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mandyjane-lifedesign · 11 months

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Find the Perfect Funeral Flowers for Every Season

The death of a loved one is incredibly difficult, and it can be hard to know how best to honour them. Many people show respect for their departed friend or family member by gifting funeral flowers during the memorial service. Whether you're hosting funeral ceremonies in summer, winter, fall, or spring, selecting the perfect floral arrangement can be daunting – especially if you want something seasonally appropriate. This blog post will review our top recommendations for finding exquisite funeral flowers suitable for any season. Seasonal Flowers for Funerals Funerals are a time to honour memories and celebrate the departed's life. Flowers create a sense of beauty and bring comfort during a difficult time. Choosing flowers based on what's in bloom during that season is a beautiful way to create meaningful arrangements for your loved one. Springtime Funeral Flowers Spring is a season of renewal and growth, making it an ideal time to celebrate the life of a loved one. Traditional funeral flower options for spring include lilies, roses, delphiniums, and daffodils, symbolising rebirth, purity, love, and new beginnings. Summer Funeral Flowers Summer's warm weather brings an abundance of blooming flowers, offering various options for funeral arrangements. Sunflowers, gladioli, dahlias, and carnations are suitable choices, symbolising happiness, love, strength, and remembrance – a fitting tribute to a loved one who brought joy to your life. Autumn Funeral Flowers With its changing seasons, autumn can be a poignant time to bid farewell. Consider chrysanthemums, gerbera daisies, or hydrangeas for autumn funeral flowers, as they represent strength, gratitude, and everlasting love – qualities that reflect the special bond you shared. Winter Funeral Flowers While winter may be associated with coldness, it has a unique beauty. For winter funeral flowers, evergreen branches, holly, or white roses are appropriate choices, symbolising eternal life, hope, and purity – a heartfelt way to honour your loved one during the colder months. Personalising Funeral Flowers While seasonal flowers are a beautiful choice for funeral arrangements, it's also essential to consider personal touches that reflect the personality and interests of your loved one. Consider incorporating these into the arrangement if they have a favourite flower or colour. Consider the Color Palette The choice of colours for funeral flowers can also be a significant consideration. White is often seen as a traditional colour for funerals, symbolising purity and innocence. However, incorporating the deceased's favourite colour or using bright hues can also be an excellent way to celebrate their vibrant life. Combining seasonal flowers with favourite colours can create a beautiful and unique tribute to your loved one. Add Personal Touches Incorporating personal items into funeral flower arrangements is another way to add a special touch. For example, if the deceased was an avid gardener, consider including their gardening tools in the arrangement. If they were passionate about music, using sheet music as part of the display can be a beautiful tribute. Consider Cultural or Religious Traditions It's essential to consider any cultural or religious traditions when choosing funeral flowers. For example, white lilies are often used in Christian funerals, while yellow and orange flowers are more common in Hindu ceremonies. Understanding these customs can help you select appropriate funeral flowers honouring your loved one's beliefs and values. Think About Location The location of the funeral can also influence your choice of funeral flowers. For example, if the service will be outdoors, consider selecting hardier flowers that can withstand heat or cold temperatures. You may have more flexibility with delicate blooms if it's an indoor ceremony. Understanding the location can ensure your chosen flowers look beautiful and fresh throughout the service. Do Your Research on Floral Arrangements Choosing funeral flowers doesn't have to be a routine affair. You can inject creativity into the process and create unique bouquets representing your loved one's personality and life story. Mix and Match Who says you have to stick to traditional flowers? You can create a stunning bouquet by mixing and matching flowers and foliage. You might combine wildflowers with classic roses or pair vibrant orchids with delicate lilies. The key is to choose flowers that harmonise well together and reflect the many facets of your loved one's life. Consider Unusual Floral Arrangements Unusual arrangements can make a profound statement. You could create a bouquet in the shape of their favourite object or a symbol that held significant meaning for them, such as a musical note, a book, or even a beloved pet. Just ensure that the final arrangement remains tasteful and respectful. Personalise with Accessories Add a personal touch by incorporating your loved one's favourite accessories into the arrangement. It could be a piece of fabric from a beloved dress, a ribbon from their favourite hat, or a pendant from a cherished necklace. This can be a beautiful way to honour their memory if done with care. This can be a beautiful way to honour their memory if done with care. Funeral flowers are a meaningful and heartfelt way to honour the memory of your loved one. Considering their personality, traditions, and location, you can create a unique bouquet that beautifully reflects their life and legacy. Don't be afraid to think outside the box and add personal touches to make the arrangement truly special - after all, it's a tribute to someone who was one of a kind. Remember to take your time and seek guidance from florists if needed, as they can help you create the perfect floral tribute for your loved one. Rest in peace. Conclusion Choosing funeral flowers is a heartfelt way to honour the memory of someone special. By selecting seasonal blooms personal touches, and respecting cultural or religious traditions, you can create a beautiful tribute that celebrates their life and brings comfort during a difficult time. Remember, there is no right or wrong way to choose funeral flowers – what matters most is that the arrangement reflects your loved one and brings comfort to mourning. So take the time to carefully consider all elements and create a beautiful bouquet that honours their unique memory. Rest in peace. Farewell for now. Read the full article

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legolasbadass · 3 years

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A Lifetime Apart [1/3]

Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug.

Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021!

Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)

Rating: T

As always, the fic can be read on AO3.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.

All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.

He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.

Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.

At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.

He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.

“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.

“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.

Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”

Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.

That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.

They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.

Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.

What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?

Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.

Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.

That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.

Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.

Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.

Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.

She knew they would separate them.

King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.

They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.

Then the dragon came.

Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.

“Dragon!”

Rúna.

Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.

Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.

No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.

Rúna.

Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.

He had lost her.

He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.

Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.

He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.

—

Khuzdul translations:

Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @mcchiberry @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

#trsb21 #tolkien reverse summer bang #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #thorin fanfic #thorin x oc #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #a lifetime apart

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

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cherry blossom | jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg15

wc: 2k (yes it is a drabble shut up)

warnings: swearing

summary: spring is blooming and so are you OR he loves the beanie you knitted for his round ass head

a/n: hello, hi, hey...is this good? idk, but i wrote it because im trying to do that again; this is based on the tebori tapioca couple because i really like them a lot...ALSO i said i would write about beanie boy and here he is :D

tebori tapioca

masterlist

Petals dipped in white are decorated in the jagged pink crawling from the root of thin strengthened stems fluttering like wisps from trees freshly bloomed to kiss at your cheeks, tilted upward toward a sky painted in streaks of voluminous clouds. You lift one hand to trace the expanse of day, finger a brush concentrated on the perfect mural, eyes zeroed to see the work of the blue plained aerial. You grasp a stray petal mid-air, charting the exposure of edges fragile and torn from the efflorescent cherry blossom, its trunk the perfect home for the boy whose head appears anywhere but the moment.

You bring the petal to trace his cheeks seeking the protrusion of his nose, effectively startling the stupor that held him captive. His eyes dance the length of your arm up to your collar, landing on your own gaze in wonder, always amazed by feelings that engulf him like licking flames. He tilts his head until the warmth of his cheek rests in the palm of your hand, cradling perfection and its questioning peep.

“Sorry,” You murmur, thumb soothing circles into pliable skin, eyes doubled in apology despite the fondness stretching the muscles of his face, tugging at the edges of his lids.

“Don’t be,” He hushes plucking the petal, blowing it into the subtle breeze that kicks at the skin of your ankles, traveling the length of your leg, ignorant to the tingle that already resides from the steady grip of a tattooed hand tracing the skin exposed from the ride up of your hoodie. “We came here to be together and I’m zoning out.”

You crook your arm into the grass, still damp from the press of morning dew, petals sticking to your palm as you push forward, Jeongguk cautiously tightening at your waist. The hand that still rests against his cheek sneakily climbs to tendrils peeking from beneath the beanie dressing his head, black knitted and all consuming, wrapping the strands of curls between nimble fingers and urging him to press his lips to your own.

“I don’t mind, I’d rather sit with you in complete silence than listen to Jimin complain about whatever it is he was complaining about today.” You speak after the first heady press, foreheads gathered in collective rest, lashes just missing with each flutter. You can barely recall the words tumbling forward, but you can count on the attentive nature of your chosen lover to keep you on track, his eyes never missing the beat of your quivering lips.

“Hmm, but i wanna give you all of my attention.” He pulls you so you’re falling, forcing you onto his lap of denim, your arms finding rest around his broad shoulders. He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, bringing light to the fabric engulfing his head of curls.

It’s a recent niche, the adornment of the extra layer, a gift from you meant to reside on the side of winter wardrobe. It dresses him well, mirror selfies and dates spent walking the string lit streets of your cozy strip not without the attention of head-on-a-swivel passersby. You don’t mind the look or the attention that you believe present without the added statement, but you often miss the ease of a hand through thick curls and the added volume on humid occasions.

“Now who’s zoning?” Jeongguk teases, nudging the underside of your chin, fingers retreating to avoid your gentle nip.

“I was just thinking about you,” Your words are spoken with lips folding inward to rest between the set of your teeth, hands tugging at the top of his hat, almost pulling it free before he swats at your offending limb tugging it back into place.

“Oh yeah?” You arch into him when a sudden gust of wind wraps around your bodies, biting at your arms left exposed by your insistence of warmth from the saturation of rays that swallow you whole, only missing direct contact by Jeongguk’s insistence that you seek refuge in the crowding branches of the beautiful earthy growth of the ascending blossom.

“Yeah, you and your beanie. Why won’t you let me see your cute ass head, you nerd?”

“Excuse me? I like the beanie, it was a gift you know.”

He’s proud of his counter, head resting against the trunk of the tree before he’s suddenly guiding you from his lap to join in the jump to his feet. You’re like jello, too long spent lounging in the thick of your bubbled comfort, nearly knocking into him out of the habit of proximity and lack of control over your physical being.

“Not only was it a gift,” He continues, clasping your hands, swinging it between you as you once more find the path riddled with abandoned flowers and the remnants of blades from grass freshly mowed, the smell still lingering with each foot forward. He brings your connected palms to press to his lips, holding them in place for a momentary hum before your nerves are tingling under the sensation and you're trying your hardest to pull away amidst squealish giggling. “It was handmade.”

You stutter, feet catching at the tip, threatening to eat concrete were it not for the quick reflexes and unbridled strength of Jeongguk’s arms. He drags you from the center of the path, the resounding tinkering of a child’s bike bell screaming to make way for the train of tasseled training wheels that are suddenly on your trail. It gives you time to recompose, Jeongguk far too busy waving in kind at each passing darling regarding him with various poked tongues and toothy grins.

“Babe, you good?” He finally returns his attention, the rough pad of his thumb coming to swipe at the hairs that fall from the folded lip of the beanie, tickling at the plains of his forehead that hold just enough sheen from the day's heat to allow the dense fibers to stick to his skin. You fight the temptation to replace his hand with your own, always happy to feel him beneath you, feening for the closeness of closed doors and your head tucked beneath his chin, fingers tracing the ever defining muscles that tease through his t-shirt.

“I’m fine...I just didn’t realize you noticed.” You shield yourself in the thick of his hoodie, tugging the sleeve to hide your eyes from his prying gaze and infectious grin. You question your own sanity when the remembrance of his attentive nature and the dreamy sigh he’d emitted upon the first snug of the thick fabric to his skull, only compliments spewing thereafter.

“That I noticed...?” You’re dim witted to the point of ignorance, though his bait works as your face slowly unsticks from the dark material eating his chest, replacing your face with the wrap of your knuckles and the avoidance of eye contact in favor of tracking a peculiar worm inching toward fresh dirt.

“Koo…” You whine, the nickname and high pitched yearning a new habit Jeongguk has taken in kind. His adoration for you only grows more with each day, your habits taking hold of him like the magnet that you are, an attraction unyielding and all consuming. Some would say that it’s a sickness, but the rapid pump of his love organ and the coos that ooz from him with the precision of a clock at your every utterance feels wholesome.

You’re home, a refuge after long days of piping tea and pounds of tapioca, waist deep in the give and take of the service industry. The only being that makes him feel like giving his all is no effort wasted, always looking for more ways to please even with your assurance that just halfway makes your heart soar into a galaxy of his own making.

So he grips you tight and reels you in, inhaling the scent of the light shampoo that laces your scalp and pretends that your whines are only an amusement, a reason for the further push of his pestering. His hands trace the peak of your shoulder blades, easing them of the tension from your bout of shyness.

“Love, why wouldn’t I notice? Why do you think I love to wear it so much?”

“Because you’re perfect,” You melt, shuffling on the balls of your feet, hands shoved into his pockets to hold steady in a world constantly rotating around you, dressed in whites and pinks, the songs of birds humming in the trees that arch above you. “But seriously, how did you know? I didn’t say anything because I don’t think it’s very good and I almost didn’t even give it to you because—”

“It’s perfect.” He cuts your words with his own followed by a kiss, much longer than the one previous, your face heating under the awareness that you’re no longer shielded by bud kissed branches in your own corner of the world. The same corner that started it all just months prior.

Your palms rest against his chest, a gentle pat urging him to part from you despite your own inward cries of the opposite. He obliges, a smile of coyness splayed along his cheeks, pushing at the scar that kisses the apples of his skin.

“What?”

“I did notice an attempt at the stitching of initials under the lip...still need some practice I see—”

“Love, that’s so mean!” Your pats previously gentle now offer as much force as you can muster, easily sending him staggering on his feet, too consumed by his own childish laughter at your rather rugged stitchwork, a poor attempt at further customization. “Ugh, I didn’t think you would notice.”

He pulls the beanie from his head, hair falling in a mess of dark curl that traces the frame of his cheeks, somehow rounder today than the chiseled jaw that you often find ingrained in your memory. You ache to take him between your palms, a smattering of kisses stored for later use when you aren’t teetering the precipice of embarrassment. A feeling of routine self indulgence that is altogether useless under the watchful eyes of the dream before you.

He delicately dips his finger into the folded hem of the hat, lengthening the elastic trim that suctions around him to keep it secure around his head. He traces the thread that just barely makes out the letters initialling his name, imagining the formation of your lips as you repeat the two syllables with the puncture and withdraw of every stitch.

It’s clear as the blue dyed sky, the vivid poke of your lips when you realize the curve of the ‘J’ is more of a divot than a definition but push on to the ‘K’. You only add the extra inches when your mind begins to overthink when in truth he’ll love anything from your hands, from your mind and the blood pumping through your veins.

It wasn’t the accidental revelation of the stitching when he pulled it from the first wash that clued him in. The fabric unfurled from its position of origin, the letters staring back, accented with the perfect attempt at a heart stitched in white.

No, he finds solace in the patch of thread missing from the edge of the shape meant to mimic the geometry of the organ itself.

It speaks true to the way he feels when he’s not with you, like his heart couldn’t possibly be whole when he’s not taking in the breathlessness of your laugh or the way you pout his name without warning.

It was the tremor in your hands as you delivered the gift wrapped in faux gold, edges of the paper curled from the lack of a package and a mind too jumbled to think of a bag. Your delivery paired with the fumble of words hushed in rushed breath was clue enough of your attempt at discretion.

It’s in these moments, hat in hand and your eyes scrutinizing the thing when you’d told him how handsome it made him look just weeks prior. He gently pinches the scrunch of your nose, forcing your eyes to his own, hat pulled back over his head.

He doesn’t miss the quirk of your lips, the hat no longer an object of disdain when it's a part of him. The day you met was the day that you made your place within him and it's in moments like these that he feels whole.

“I can’t believe you thought for a second that I wouldn’t.”

#jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fluff #jjk x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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aitarose · 4 years

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THORNS | AZULA

PAIRING: Azula x Reader x Zuko [fem]

PLOT: Though Azula always said that she’s never believed in love, she failed to stop herself from falling head over heels for her brother’s betrothed. companion piece to roses; based on these requests by anons

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, unrequited love, mutual pining, somewhat friends to lovers

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

A/N: this connects to the events that occur in roses. this piece can be read as a standalone, but roses gives more detail to the reader’s feelings and relationship with zuko

ALT. END: Blossoms | ZUKO’S POV: Roses

WRITER’S ANALYSIS: Here

MY MASTERLIST

thorns : a symbol of sinful thoughts, extreme sorrow, and hardships. when paired with a rose, denotes both pain and pleasure in the sense of love.

Year one, day one.

Azula slammed her hands onto the skin of her face, repeatedly making contact with her dry cheeks. She let out a deafening scream of anger, punching the wall next to her, leaving a dark black mark in its wake.

She’d been in her room for less than three hours and she was already going mad with boredom.

The princess huffed, plopping herself down onto the twin-sized bed that was nestled in the corner of her so-called suite.

She knew that Zuzu had done his best to give her the best commodities the Fire Nation could offer, but her former people weren’t exactly jumping to meet her pretentious living standards.

Which was actually something that Azula somewhat understood. She knew deep down that what she had done was wrong—trying to kill the Avatar, trying to kill her mom, kidnapping the nation’s children, the whole gist.

She’d done bad things, some really bad things in her past, but that’s all that it was—her past. Azula wanted to get better, she wanted to be better for not only Zuko, but for herself.

So she and her brother had devised a plan. A plan that would, in its entirety, take five years to complete.

Zuko was giving Azula half a decade to prove to him that she could be good, truly good. Which to most would seem like quite a bit of time, but for Azula, she didn’t know if it would be enough.

She wrapped her arms around herself, warming her ice cold shoulders. Azula hadn’t been alone with her thoughts for this long in a while—and if she was being honest, there was nothing that scared her more than her own mind.

“Princess?” She jumped, startled by the frail voice calling from the opposite side of her door. Azula hastily marched to the entrance, yanking it open in annoyance at whomever was bothering her chosen isolation.

Standing before her was a girl about her age, she couldn’t have been older than eighteen. She was holding a tray with various Fire Nation delicacies stacked on top of one another, steaming with heat and the kitchen’s aroma.

Azula rolled her eyes at the sight she was seeing. Of course Zuko had ordered for her to have a late dinner, he’d most likely been preoccupied with all of his new and earned Fire Lord duties.

“Come inside, peasant.” Azula gestured to the small dining table in the center of her confinement. She pulled out a chair for herself and expectantly looked at her companion with the expectation that she’d serve her.

The other girl hustled, quickly placing the princess’s meal on the placemat and taking the seat opposite to her. She laced her hands together, her fingers tapping the wood nervously.

Azula threw her palms flat on the table. “What are you doing?” She questioned, interrogating her helper, who was cowering in her seat. “Does my brother expect you to monitor my meals? What damage could I possibly do with this slob? Start a food fight in the palace?”

Her uninvited guest took a deep breath, seemingly focusing her stress and fear into the idea of feeling zen. She swallowed hard, her gaze on Azula evolving from anxiety to empathy.

“Actually,” she trailed off, her lips rising into a thin smile. She looked into Azula’s golden eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or rising anger. “The Fire Lord didn’t send me here, his advisors did.”

“The council knows that your brother has a soft spot for you.” She explained, watching as Azula slightly nodded her head along to her words. “Spirits, everyone knows that when it comes to you, he has no reason.”

“I’m only here to monitor and report your progress.” Azula scoffed at the thought of her father’s old council dictating the direction of her own life, but at least they’d sent someone she could relate to. A girl that she could actually form a conversation with.

A scowl flashed across Azula’s face as the admissions her companion had stated ran through her mind. No matter, at least she had some entertainment now.

“Do you have a name?” Azula asked pointedly as she began to pick at her meal. “Or should I just call you ‘Servant’, like I do with all of the others?”

The girl lightly laughed at the unintentional joke, finding humor in the thought of being stuck with the princess as nothing but her worker. She shook her head, smiling slightly, before responding.

“You can call me Y/N.”

Year one, day ninety-four.

“You’re late.”

Azula crossed her arms over her chest, huffing loudly as she attempted to seem angered by her new friend’s timing. She’d become well accustomed to the daily routine they’d developed over the past months.

Seeing Y/N was honestly the highlight of Azula’s day.

She’d never verbally admit that she enjoyed the kind girl’s company. That she felt refreshed by her positive and warm nature, that she relished in the judgement free outlook that Y/N had on life.

And Azula would never mentally admit to herself, that she may have developed unwanted feelings for her friend.

She always told herself that love wasn’t real. After witnessing the so-called love her mother and father had shared first hand, Azula wasn’t necessarily looking forward to potential love in her future.

No matter who she was involved with.

“Sorry about that Azula.” Y/N hustled through the doorway, her hair tangled and dusted with dirt particles. She had a large scratch on her right cheek, most likely self inflicted. Y/N was clumsy like that.

Azula let out a short laugh. Taking in the appearance of her crush. She even makes dirt look good.

“I was running on time, but then I saw this adorable booth in the market and I just had to make a stop.” Y/N rambled, waving her hands in the air in exaggeration. Her cheeks were flushed red from her sprint through town, resembling the color of a blooming rose.

“As if it matters to me.” Azula shrugged nonchalantly in her best attempt to seem as if she didn’t care about her friend’s dilemma.

As if she didn’t care about every second of her day. As if Y/N’s overall excitement wasn’t the only thing that truly kept Azula going nowadays.

Y/N brushed off Azula’s feigned disinterest as if it was nothing. It wasn’t uncommon for the princess to ignore her daily shenanigans. Most of the time, she felt as if Azula didn’t even listen to anything she said.

Which Y/N had quickly realized not even weeks into their meetings, really really hurt her. It hurt her heart that Azula didn’t care, that she didn’t matter in her eyes.

In their time together, Y/N had developed inklings of feelings for the firebender as well. Feelings that she had come to internalize and push aside.

After all, it wasn’t her job to fall in love with her client. Her job was to help Azula learn to love her own people, to help her gain the love of her people.

“Well, Azula.” Y/N stumbled towards her friend, accidentally tripping over her own feet in embarrassment. She proceeded to hold out a single flower not yet in bloom.

“This is what the vendor was selling.” She smiled warmly, letting Azula take the flower into her own hands. “It caught my eye, because it reminded me of you.”

Azula studied her gift. It was a red rose, the shade being so vibrant it could be compared to her brother’s firebending. The stem was thin, yet covered in thorns of various sizes. They prickled Azula’s fingers, puncturing her callouses.

As she gazed at the budding rose, Azula realized how fitting the gift was to her. She had never been the kind of girl who longed for bouquets and sweets, but when coming from the right person, perhaps she was.

Whilst she struggled to come up with a reply to her friend’s kindness, Y/N mentally applauded herself. She’d finally found a way to make Azula speechless.

“It’s not terrible, I suppose.” Azula threw the flower to the ground, lightly kicking it away from her with her right foot. She turned away from Y/N, not bothering to see the heartbroken look on her crush’s face.

“I’m sure that garbage was all you could afford anyways.”

Azula cringed as she heard the door close lightly. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, realizing that even while upset, Y/N would never respond to her own awfulness with anger.

She felt herself collapse, her knees buckling beneath her. Soft sobs escaped her lips, silent cries filling the hollow room.

The sorrow-filled girl looked up from her lap with tear-filled eyes. Azula could see the faint outline of the young rose beside her. As she lifted the thorn covered flower with careful hands, she saw what Y/N had meant with the gift.

That Azula was dreadful and hurtful to others on the outside, but when encouraged and supported, she could become something beautiful.

Someone that could one day be compared to the beauty that was of a blooming rose.

As she sat alone, staring at the budding rose in her palms, Azula realized that she would only be able to become that person with the help of Y/N. She was the only person that had even come close to seeing her for who she truly was.

The only person who would think of giving a gift such as this to the princess of the Fire Nation. The only person who Azula had ever come to feel true and honest love towards.

Azula had to become better. Not only for herself and Zuko—but for Y/N.

Year two, day one-hundred and six.

“Can I ask you something serious?”

Y/N rolled over to face Azula on her side, resting her elbow beneath her chin. She tilted her head while scrunching her nose in thought.

Azula was laying beside her, staring up at the dark vaulted ceiling. She’d been allowed to move back into her old bedroom at the palace with Zuko and his advisor’s permission, after they’d been informed of all of her progress with Y/N.

It was a room where Azula had never truly been comfortable in when she was younger, she used to feel so alone in the spacious and empty bedroom—but with Y/N’s company, she hadn’t felt alone in years.

“That depends,” Azula responded, crossing her arms over her chest. She frowned, taking a moment to consider what Y/N could possibly ask her. “What is this serious question that you’re deliberating?”

Y/N dropped the arm that was supporting her upper body, allowing herself to fall back onto the soft red carpet. She stretched her arms out, nearly hitting Azula in the process before mimicking her friend’s position.

She let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes tight. Her heartbeat raced in her chest, preparing herself for whatever reaction Azula could possibly have to her curiosity.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Azula nearly choked on air at the sound of Y/N’s words. She had to physically stop herself from bolting upright and leaving the room, before whipping her head around to give her crush a look of confusion.

“Love?” Azula cringed, pushing the thought of the emotion to the very depths of her mind. “That’s what you really wanted to ask me? If I’ve known love?”

The firebender could faintly see Y/N’s head nod in the darkness surrounding them. She lit a single flame from the tip of her pointer finger to get a better glimpse of Y/N’s beautiful face.

She could see the stress in her eyes—spirits, Azula could feel the anxiety rippling off of Y/N’s body in waves. She didn’t know why a question like this could possibly affect her companion in the way it was now.

She didn’t know why it was affecting her in the exact same way.

“My parents were my only example of love when I was a child.” Azula shared, trusting Y/N with the inner secrets that she’d never verbally spoken before. “My mother left before I knew she even cared for me, and my father..”

Azula trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. Y/N pursed her lips at the princess’ silence, taking her shaking hand into her own soft palm. She rubbed her fingers against Azula’s, doing her best to comfort her during her confrontation with her past trauma.

“My father was a monster.” Azula grimaced, basking in the feeling of Y/N’s touch. The feeling of being so close, yet so far from the girl she was painfully in love with. “Their love wasn’t real, and I fear I’m so similar to my father that it’ll never be real for me either.”

Y/N gasped in disbelief. “Love is for anyone, ‘Zula. You just need to believe that one day, it’ll find you when you least expect it.”

Azula shook her head, refusing to face the fact that she had her love right in front of her. Someone who would care for her and understand her throughout all of her outbreaks and dilemmas. Someone that would choose her everyday, as long as she’d let her.

“That’s unfortunate then.” Azula pried her hand from Y/N’s, shivering at the overwhelming feeling of emptiness. “Because I don’t believe in love.”

With that, Y/N was speechless. She’d expected something from Azula. Anything to affirm her suspicions that her crush was in love with her as well—but all she’d gotten in return was an answer even worse than rejection.

Azula groaned, sitting up from the floor and tucking her knees into her chest. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”

Y/N took a minute to contemplate what she had asked. Azula mentally counted down the seconds of silence that followed her out-of-character question.

“I think that I have.” Y/N pondered, lacing her own fingers together over her stomach. “But lately I’ve realized that they’ll never feel the same.”

“It’s about time that I move on, isn’t it?”

Azula barely heard the last words Y/N whispered under her breath. Her voice was so faint, it sounded like nothing but an echo in the void. She could tell that Y/N was frowning, but Azula had no idea how to make her smile.

And words couldn’t describe how much Azula loved her smile. There was nothing that she loved more to see. That bright, beaming grin and the gorgeous girl behind it—that girl always being Y/N.

Year three, day eighty-seven.

Azula stretched her arms above her head, the bright sun radiating beams of light around her. She felt a genuine grin spread across her face, brightening her features with honest happiness.

She’d just recently been given the privilege to roam the palace ground freely, and had chosen to spend every single day of the past week in the garden courtyard.

Being surrounded by the tall cherry blossom trees, the whistling birds, and the frail little turtle ducks gave Azula a sense of nostalgia that she never knew she had missed.

She used to shun the memories and longings of her past friends and family members, refusing to accept the fact that she had been the true problem in their relationship troubles. That she had caused all of their strife.

But now, with the new idea of freedom on Azula’s mind, she finally understood how terrible she’d been. How unfairly she’d treated her peers and the people who had offered her guidance. She vowed to herself to never become that person again, that monster.

“Enjoying the warm weather?” Y/N called from the entrance of the courtyard, a large picnic basket in hand.

Azula spun to face her friend, laughing at the sight of the mess Y/N had brought with her. She ran over to the girl, instantly taking a hold of the supplies she’d been lugging around with her.

Y/N smiled at Azula, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of her unprovoked helpfulness. She walked with the firebender, taking a seat in their usual spot under the largest pink tree.

She and Azula had grown in indescribable ways in the past years of knowing each other. They’d gone from nothing but strangers, to somewhat friends, and now best friends.

Azula knew in her heart that Y/N was the only person who was real in her life. The only one who knew her in a way where she didn’t automatically shy away from the boldness and arguably maniacal tendencies Azula had.

She knew that if she ever really had a chance at love, it was with Y/N.

Which was the reason why today was so special for Azula. It was the day that she was planning to finally confess and accept the undeniable love and adoration that she held for Y/N.

“I hope you brought actual food,” Azula ripped off the lid of the basket, peering inside to find all of her favorite desserts made by the kitchen staff. She stuck her hand inside, grabbing a small fruit tart covered in bright red frosting.

“This is so much better than that garbage you gave me the first day we met.”

Y/N bursted out laughing, clutching her chest as her teeth sparkled in the sunlight. She scoffed, stealing the tart out of Azula’s hand, before taking a bite of it herself.

“Sorry, your majesty.” She rolled her eyes in amusement, giggling at Azula’s reaction to her thievery. “I wasn’t exactly allowed to choose what the Princess of the Fire Nation could eat.”

Azula smirked, shooting a short line of fire towards the delicacy in Y/N’s palm, scorching the remainder of the tart and obliterating it to ashes. “Don’t steal my food.”

Y/N blew the dust off of her lap, shaking down her body before smacking Azula’s shoulder. “Well, don’t set my food on fire.”

The two girls glared at each other, refusing to break eye contact in an unspoken staring contest. Y/N struggled to match Azula’s stone cold gaze, blinking hard before being overcome with a fit of giggles.

Azula felt her cheeks flush red as her crush’s head fell into her lap. She gazed down on the hysterical girl, holding her cheeks between her hands. Before she could speak, Azula saw someone standing in the corner of her eye.

She looked up to find her Fire Lord brother shyly waving at them, one hand raised in the air while the other disappeared in the pockets of his grand robes.

Her relationship with Zuko had greatly improved since the beginning of their arrangement. While she used to loathe the sight of his scarred face, now she had grown to find comfort in it. They’d finally become the family they should’ve always been.

“Zuzu?” Azula called out, confused as to why her brother was interrupting her time with Y/N. In all the time she’d spent with Zuko, he’d never been around when Y/N was there. “What is it that you need, brother?”

Zuko shrugged, now stuffing both hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He stuttered for a moment before pointing at Y/N, who’d just now noticed the prince standing at the distance.

“I need to speak with Y/N,” Zuko slightly chuckled, biting his lip as he tried to suppress a grin. “I have some business that we need to cover, it’ll only take a second.”

Azula had never seen Y/N move so quickly. Her friend was there for one minute and then the next thing she knew, her lap was empty—barren from the feeling of warmth and belonging she’d felt seconds before.

She watched in confusion as Y/N stood before Zuko. Her brother and her crush spoke at a comfortable distance, not too close, but also not far enough. Azula wrinkled her nose in disgust as she saw him ruffle Y/N’s hair, an act that she thought was only reserved for her.

They continued conversing, their voices too faint for Azula to hear. As the ‘deliberation’ concluded, she sighed seeing Y/N turn away from Zuko—only to see him take ahold of her forearm, pulling her close to his body.

Zuko took one of Y/N’s hands in his, before finally revealing what he’d been hiding beneath his robes the entire time.

He offered Y/N a rose, a somewhat crumpled rose, but a rose nonetheless. It was a soft shade of orange, the petals oozing the same effect as Zuko’s flames. Even Azula could admit that it was beautiful, more beautiful than any flower she’d ever come across.

Azula frowned at the sight of her crush’s red cheeks. Why doesn’t Y/N have that reaction to her compliments anymore?

The princess internally gagged as Y/n reached up to wrap her arms around Zuko’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug before pressing a light kiss to his cheek. She waved a quick goodbye to him and skipped towards Azula, tripping over countless stones on her way back.

She plopped down onto the ground, delicately holding the large rose in her hands. Azula noticed the smooth stem of the flower, free of thorns and pain.

“I see you and my brother have quite a bit of explaining to do.” Azula deadpanned, dreading to hear what Y/N could possibly have to say about the kiss she shared with Zuko.

Y/N huffed out a puff of air, pushing away the loose strands of hair that were blowing around her forehead. She sat back against the cherry blossom tree, a lovestruck grin stretched across her face.

“I’d meant to tell you earlier, ‘Zula.” She explained, twiddling the rose between her fingers. “A lot earlier actually—months ago, even.”

“Zuko and I ran into each other on my way to your room one day, and we just really clicked.”

Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, not from nerves but from the love that she felt for the kind Fire Lord. “We’ve been seeing each other since then and I think it’s going really well.”

“I think I’m in love with him.”

Azula felt her heart drop in that moment. She’d been anticipating a confession for the entirety of the day, though that confession was not the one she’d had in mind.

Heartbreak was an unfamiliar feeling for Azula. Sure, she’d felt loneliness and emptiness before, but never this. She’d never known the true and utter despair of losing the one that you love to someone else. Someone that is undeniably better in every way.

Azula knew she’d never shine in comparison to Zuko in this new world—but she had thought that she was the diamond to Zuko’s rock in Y/N’s eyes.

But perhaps she was nothing more than a friend in the eyes of Y/N.

Year four, day two-hundred and two.

“I have news!” Y/N sprinted down the beach, sand flying everywhere as she giddily ran towards Azula. “Big big news that you’ll love to know!”

Azula raised an eyebrow at Y/N’s natural chaos, she’d never seen her so utterly unruly and dismantled. What could possibly cause her to act this way?

By the time she reached the seashore, Y/N was out of breath. She collapsed onto the sand, shrieking as the tide came in and brushed against her bare feet.

“Calm down, crazy! Don’t get that debris all over my new swimsuit!” Azula shouted, confused by how jumpy she was acting.

The only other time Y/N had come close to acting this way was when she and Azula had gone to see the famous play rights in the Fire Nation colonies, and ended up laughing at all of the ridiculousness they displayed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Y/N laughed, shaking the sand out of her clothes and hair. The state of being she was in reminded her of their early days together. Specifically the day Y/N had given Azula her favorite gift ever.

The budding rose covered in thorns.

“I’m just so excited.” Y/N went on and on describing her joy, her hands were waving in the air dramatically gesturing here and there to absolutely nothing. Azula wasn’t even listening to whatever she was saying, just admiring how pretty she looked in the sun.

“Take a breath, it’s not like we don’t have all day.” Azula chimed in, stopping Y/N from completely combusting with energy. She patted the seat next to her, nodding in approval as the girl she loved gladly took the spot.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azula’s waist, laying on the towel beside her. She hummed in content at the platonic gesture she was showing her friend. Azula however was racing at Y/N’s touch, confused by the intimacy of it all.

Azula shrugged off her feelings, instead choosing to trace circles over Y/N’s back. Easing the girl out of her excitement and into a state of quietness and relaxation.

Silence overtook the two girls, the only sound being the splashing waves upon the nation’s coast. Azula stared blankly at the soft currents, seeing them rise and fall over the shoreline. She wished she could come and go like them.

That way she wouldn’t have to witness first hand the love between Y/N and Zuko. The love between the girl she saw as her soulmate and her own brother.

“Zuko proposed.” Y/N whispered, an unintentional smile gracing her lips. The unconditional love she felt for him was so visible, the perfect stranger would be able to pick up on it. “And I said yes.”

Azula swallowed hard, feeling tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She let the waterworks drip down her cheeks, feeling like a run down battery with no energy left to hide her sadness.

Y/N sat up, startled by the sparse water droplets hitting the back of her neck. She gasped, concerned by Azula’s obviously helpless emotional state. She reached up, taking Azula’s face in her hands while wiping her tears away.

“What’s wrong?” She asked in concern, doing her best to comfort the crying girl. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Azula’s in an attempt to hold her close. “It’s alright, ‘Zula. You can tell me anything.”

“You know that I’m always here for you.”

In the storm of confusion and sadness that was raging in Azula’s mind, she did the one thing that she had promised herself she’d never do. She followed through with her own selfish wish of jeopardizing Zuko and Y/N’s relationship.

Y/N’s eyes opened wide in shock as Azula’s lips touched her own.

The firebender poured all of her emotions into the one-sided kiss, not realizing that Y/N was unresponsive. The latter girl was frozen in place, trying her best to process what was exactly happening in the moment.

She’d dreamt of this moment, the time where Azula would finally admit that she had feelings for her too—but she hadn’t had those dreams in years. Those dreams had ended once Azula had said that love wasn’t real.

As Azula pulled away, tears still dripping down her chin, Y/N had a look of bitterness on her face. Her normally beautiful and positive features were overcome with anger and distrust.

“Why would you do that?” She cried, her eyes turning bloodshot red. Y/N stood hastily, backing away from her friend, holding her hands in front of her to show that she didn’t want Azula following her. “You know you shouldn’t have done that.”

Azula screamed in frustration as she watched Y/N storm away back in the direction of the palace. She grabbed fist-fulls of sand, flinging them at the sea and shooting blasts of blue fire in the air.

She had perhaps ruined the best friendship she’d had in her entire life. All because she couldn’t keep her love to herself. Her true and overwhelming love for Y/N.

Year five, the last day.

“Are you prepared, Princess Azula?”

Azula stared into the mirror in front of her, seeing nothing but a coward in her reflection. She nodded absentmindedly to the servant that was serving her, doing her hair, dressing her, whatever it was that servants do.

She ordered her to leave the room, wishing to be alone for the remainder of the time she had to herself. There was a big event today, the biggest in the entire Fire Nation.

It was the wedding of the Fire Lord and his bride-to-be.

Azula would be lying to herself if she said that she hadn’t been dreading this day ever since Y/N had told her about the engagement that day on the beach—for that was the last day she’d even spoken to Y/N.

The former best friends hadn’t seen each other in months. Not because they were too busy or forgetful, but because Azula was too embarrassed to contact the girl. She was ashamed of her actions and regretted them wholeheartedly.

After all that time in the dark, Azula was shocked that she’d gotten an invitation to their ceremony. She didn’t think they’d want her present after what she’d done.

But here she was, all dolled up to watch the woman she loved marry the man she’d always been jealous of. Zuko had their mother’s love, the honor she’d always wanted, and the person she was supposed to spend her life with.

Sure his life had been nothing but hard since the minute he was born, but in the end Zuko was the better one out of the two of them. He was the one who was truly deserving of all of the power and glory that was their birthright.

Azula glared at herself in the mirror’s glass, remembering the last time she’d looked at her reflection in such a distraught mood. She shook her head at the memory, choosing instead to pull open the small drawer of her vanity.

Inside was a long and thin wooden box, locked with a golden pad. She took the necklace tucked into her dress and fit the key charm into the socket, twisting it open.

Her hands reached into the keepsake, carefully gripping the decaying rose from its hiding place.

For four years she’d had the gift, and in those four years Azula had managed to find help from the plantbenders of the swamp to discover a way to keep the rose alive.

However she’d become careless after her falling out with Y/N, forgetting completely about the flower, only remembering its existence in that very moment.

She spun the flower in her palms, wincing at the prickling feeling of the small thorns on the side. The rose still hadn’t bloomed, she’d told the plantbenders that she preferred it that way no matter their interjections.

Azula wanted to have the gift exactly how Y/N had meant it for her, it was more meaningful that way.

Fire raced up the stem of the rose, encasing the wilting petals in flames. Azula watched intensely as the flower turned to nothing more than ash and dust, all that was left was the four thorns she’d chosen to spare.

She poured the little dust she had back into the box, locking it with her necklace before taking the thorns with her and out the door. She was running on a tight schedule and wouldn’t for the life of her, miss the wedding.

The ceremony had begun beautifully. Romantic music surrounded the guests, filling their ears with the selection of tunes that Zuko and Y/N had hand picked. Orange roses erupted from the vases and archways in the courtyard, reminding Azula of her fateful picnic with Y/N.

She clutched the thorns in her palm at the thought of her, telling herself that this was always meant to happen.

Y/N deserved someone like Zuko. Someone good and loving, someone who would never turn their back on her. She was deserving of the entire world, and Azula never would’ve been able to give that to her.

She wasn’t meant to have Y/N’s love. She’d always known that, and now it was just time for her to accept it, move on, and cut her ties. Her future was nearing, and her new sister-in-law was not a part of it.

Perhaps this was a positive, a truly good thing to come from the constant struggle that she’d faced since childhood.

After all, she could finally leave her prison. Abandon her memories in replace of new ones where she wasn’t the fire princess, where she was simply Azula—just Azula.

TAGS: @practicallylivesonline @cherryskyies @shell-bells-ringding @xapham @mochminnie @lammello @bombardia

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silhouetteofacedar · 4 years

Text

Impersonal, Ch. 13

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

He doesn’t drink.

He doesn’t drink, but he sits in a shadowy corner booth at the dive bar near his apartment, a bouquet of coral roses on the table. Waiting for the woman.

He hasn’t been here in a while, and it’s not the place he would have chosen to celebrate their one month anniversary, but what it lacked in ambience it more than made up for in personal significance.

Scully had left a note on his desk that afternoon. Murphy’s Tavern, Alexandria, 7:15. XO. The shorthand endearment made him smile.

He went home after work and changed into a maroon button-down he’d forgotten he owned, one Scully admitted to fantasizing about. He bought a dozen bright peachy roses from a florist he’d passed by for years without ever entering.

He felt slightly ridiculous, entering this shitty bar in an old shirt, clutching a bunch of flowers, but he’s been in worse situations for Scully.

Fox Mulder is in love, and it’s probably written all over his face. He might as well dress to match.

He gets a glimpse of red hair through the haze and bustle of the bar, watches Scully make her way to him. She’s wearing a little shift dress and a cardigan and he aches at the sight of her. He wants to crawl across this sticky bar floor, beg her to hurt him, heal him, carry his children.

He settles for a smile.

“X-O?” Mulder says by way of greeting. “Didn’t think that was your style.”

She ignores the comment with a smile, leans down and presses a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth. They were slowly working their way towards more relaxed affection in public; they spent so much time on the job, they didn’t get much practice being a couple off the clock. She scoots into the booth next to him. “Are these for me?” she asks, reaching for the roses.

“Yeah,” Mulder replies. “Though I admit I know nothing about flowers, so I hope these are good ones. I think people usually go for red but I thought this color suited you.”

“They’re lovely, Mulder. Thank you.” She gathers the blooms to herself and inhales deeply.

“Mm, they smell wonderful,” she sighs. She glances at him shyly. “You know, Mulder, this color… it’s actually very appropriate, based off the widely-accepted meanings behind rose colors.”

“Oh?” he prompts.

She drops a hand to his leg, traces a circle around his kneecap. “Coral roses represent desire,” she murmurs.

Mulder’s heart rate increases, and he can’t think of anything clever to say. Her fingertips are slowly unraveling him.

“Mulder,” she says softly.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s skip the drinks.”

Her words are sparks, igniting a fire low in his belly.

They walk to his apartment hand in hand, enjoying the balmy spring evening. Mulder can’t take his eyes off Scully, enchanted by the shape of her mouth as she talks, the warm breeze flirting with the hem of her dress. She is, he decides, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. And she wants him, loves him.

They haven’t had sex since the termination of their arrangement; Scully had been very clear that she wanted it at some point in the near future, but needed time to adjust. Apparently, years of emotional repression can really do a number on a person, Mulder had thought wryly. He can relate.

They arrive at his apartment door, and he fumbles with his keys. “I swear I��m not nervous,” he says, nearly dropping the keyring.

Scully takes it from him, deftly unlocks the door. “It’s okay if you are,” she says, opening the door and stepping inside. “I’m a little nervous myself.”

Scully always, always knows what he needs to hear.

“At least we’ve got some practice under our belts, so to speak,” he says, following her in. He shuts the door behind them. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“Preferably naked,” Scully quips. She steps towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders and tiptoeing to reach his ear. “But you don’t need me to tell you how to fuck, do you?”

He strokes her waist, the thin fabric of her dress slipping beneath his fingers. “Maybe I like when you tell me what to do.”

She licks her lips - God, he loves when she does that - and slides her hands up to clasp behind his neck. “Make love to me,” she whispers. “As cliche as that sounds.”

Mulder can handle cliches.

He pulls her in and kisses her, sweeping a hand up her back to press her closer. She’s so warm and supple in his arms, her little hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. Their tongues tangle deliciously as they stumble further into the apartment.

Scully breaks the kiss for air. “Should… bed?” She asks, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Message received,” Mulder replies, and scoops his arms low behind her, picking her up. Scully yelps.

“Mulder, put me down, I can walk,” she protests, laughing.

He stumbles towards the bedroom. “Not for long you can,” he growls in her ear.

Scully moans, and Mulder briefly wonders if he’ll be able to carry her that far in this state. She’s kissing his neck, clawing at his hair, and he’s losing focus fast.

Luckily his apartment is small, and they make it to his bedroom without any major hiccups. He lays her down on his bed, grateful that he’d bothered to smooth his sheets and blankets down for once.

Scully pulls him down towards her, fingers caught on his collar. “Come here,” she commands.

“I intend to,” he replies, bracing himself on his forearms over her.

She rolls her eyes. “You talk too much, Mulder, anybody ever tell you that?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but Scully hauls him down to her waiting lips before he can say another word.

Scully kisses with her entire body, Mulder has learned, directing her own symphony of lips and hands and the occasional nip of teeth. He could lay here kissing her for hours, exploring the harmonies they make with their bodies. He hopes to spend a lifetime learning every note.

Eventually Mulder sits back on his heels on the bed, kneeling like a supplicant before the altar of her hips. His hands travel up her thighs, pushing the skirt of her dress up to her waist. Her skin is downy soft and so hot, he hopes he feels it burning on his fingertips for days after this.

“May I…” he asks gently, running a finger along the edge of her underwear. She shivers.

“Please,” she sighs, legs parting further at the touch.

He slowly draws her panties down, sets them aside. His fingertips brush her heated flesh and she gasps.

“Is this okay?” he asks, leaning down and ghosting a breath against her sex.

“Yes,” she sighs, and her hands pull his head down to her.

It’s different this time. He allows his eyes to close as he loses himself in the taste of her. He’s no longer afraid of not being good enough, no longer anxiously planning his next move. He’s caught in her tide, the sweet flow of her body against his mouth, and he lets himself be carried away by the swell.

She trembles on his lips, hands scrabbling in his hair. “Mulder,” she gasps, “Mulder, no more.”

He looks up at her.

“I need you here,” she says, sitting up. She undoes the first button of her dress, revealing an inch of her sternum.

Mulder scoots forward, sitting between her legs as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“Yes you are,” she agrees, unfastening the front of her dress and sliding it down her arms. “But I’m pretty damn lucky too.”

Her dress flutters to the floor, followed by his shirt and pants. Scully unhooks her bra and slowly lowers it down her arms.

Mulder cups her breasts, thumbs skimming over her nipples, and she sighs. Her head tilts back, red hair swinging off her cheeks.

“I love the way you touch me,” she says, reaching for him.

“I love touching you,” he replies, wrapping his arms around her. His bare chest is pressed against hers and his heart is so full it aches.

“I love you,” she murmurs against the skin behind his ear.

“And I love you,” he replies. “Thank you for letting me.”

She draws back, palms cupping his cheeks. “You deserve this, Mulder. You deserve us.”

Shit. Scully knows him. She knows his heart, sees exactly where he’s worn thin; then she pulls out a few patches, threads her needle, and puts him back together.

“Come here,” she says, laying back.

When he pushes into her, feels her envelop him inch by inch, he swears and shakes and feels her body tremble on his frequency. There’s no thrill quite like being inside the woman he loves and trusts more than anyone else, the woman who challenges and respects him in equal measure. The woman who tells him the truth. He is safe and loved and known; he can finally, finally let go.

Their waves crest together, their voices rising and swooping down like gulls. They lay side by side on their shore, fingers intertwined. Mulder feels salty and drowsy, flushed by the radiance of his redheaded sun.

He falls asleep to the sound of Scully’s even, deep breathing, in and out like the tide.

And when he awakes before dawn, he drifts into her sleepy arms; her gravity pulling him towards her on the bed like a moon.

The End. 🌙

#impersonal #my fic #msr #xfiles #txf fic #IT IS DONE #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS MESS #♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️#I’m so excited to write more msr

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

Text

Chosen

A cool spring breeze led the grass through a gentle, carefree dance. Azriel was sitting at the base of a large apple tree, gently cradling Elain’shead in his lap. He ran his fingers through hair, weaving in stems of the most vibrant flowers he could find, thick brown hair interwoven resembling golden vines. Her eyes were a similar shade of butterscotch and so bright they look like they’re illuminated from behind. As if anything could possibly make her any more beautiful. She was so beautiful, strong and brave.

His Elain.

She had such a peaceful expression that he tried not to move only not to disturb her, not even to take a better look at the ethereal image of her lovely face resting on his lap.

Elain enjoyed spending the days in the garden. When he asked her why she said it was because even in the middle of war, trees and flowers did not stop growing, the birds continued singing, the wind did not stop blowing. The old trees hummed ancient songs softly to her. They gave life and shelter.

As for him. His home was not this garden or the House of Wind. Home was no place he had ever set foot on. It was Elain, for only in her presence Azriel could breathe freely, only with her he could let his guard down completely, live truly, only in the warmth of her radiance he could feel himself rightly. It was her smile. He had felt her warmth radiate, melting something inside him. It was as if deep down in there had been something frozen, and the first rays of the early spring morning sun begin to thaw it out.

He may live for the next thousand years and still never deserve this. In the past, he had fought to keep his feelings at bay, because of the mating bond he believed the hand she should be holding wasn’t his. And the bittersweet reality ran down his spine, constantly reminding him she was not his to claim. Yet, he wanted her at his side forever if possible. But with the passing days, months and years, it became impossible to ignore the glances that lingered for just a few seconds too long, the brushed hands that felt like fire on scarred and sunburnt skin, and the urge to finally confront whatever had shifted between them after the war.

The sunlight lit up her fair face, making her glow in the light of the brightest star. She was embodied sunlight, full of bright and healing power slicing the dark. The darkness of his scarred memories. His hands caressed hers, which he’d placed on her stomach for comfort. Hers were so much smaller than his and they had no scars like his. He traced her angelic face, feeling the softness of her skin. Her lips, plump and sweet, were also soft to his touch. His hand stroked her forehead in a soothing rhythm, while the other hand kept mapping the angles of her face with featherlight brushes. Not in over five hundred years had he felt such love in his heart, not quite like this, and yet it took him a long time to voice it as he did not think of himself worthy of it.

“You’re peaceful.” She muttered quietly. The touch of her fingers stroking his cheek caught his attention. He turned his head toward her and stared at her for half a heartbeat. She was looking at him with wide eyes and adoration, batting her long, dark lashes a few times.

His wife was full of life and tenderness when she gazed upon him, all he ever saw was how much she loved him. Azriel nodded with an affectionate smile on his lips.

They did not need the mating bond to communicate. All it needed was one word or one look in the eye, sometimes there was nothing needed at all. It was wordless most of the time.

The dizzying scent of the blooming creamy meadowsweets and sweet oleanders lingered in the air.

“This is very blissful.” Azriel sighed with a youthful happiness that he wasn't sure he'd ever heard from himself before, leaning down slightly closer to her pointy ear and whispering softly. “staying here with you brings me joy and peace.”

She giggled, her smile stretching wide across her face. Gently, she took one of his hands and pressed a soft kiss against rough, scarred skin.

“Thank you.” His voice was suddenly thick with emotion after a few moments of silence, caressing her ear with his forefingers.

“What for exactly, shadowsinger?” She asked confused, blinking slowly.

He aspired her hair’s scent, jasmine and heathers, spring breeze and sunlight, it was heaven, to feel the light weight of her head against him, to feel her warm skin, soft as silk, to hear her peaceful breathing.

“Choosing me.” He breathed as his heartbeat quickened, baring his soul to her. And mother above knew, he loved his Elain with every scrap and fibre of his being. He thanked very single day of his existence for her.

Elain’s breath seemed to have caught in her chest at the declaration if only for a brief moment before she answered.

“I will always choose you, Az.” Elain smiled, letting her love pour into his heart. And in his heart there was no doubt of the certainty of her words. He was chosen despite the fact that she had a mate. His chest swelled with warmth and pride.

#elriel #azriel acotar #elain archeron #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acosf #elain x azriel #creative writing #writeblr #my writing #acowaf #acowar #lucien vanserra #a court of frost and starlight #a court of wings and ruin #shadowsinger #I am elriel trash #Elriel fanfiction

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bts-ficrecs · 4 years

Note

hey!! can you recommend a few series (any member)? thank you very much!

“a few” hAHAHAHA you’re really funny.

Bro, why’d u have you make ur request sooo broad 😂 i tried to reign in the crazy and failed. I decided I’m going to give you a list of series that are sitting impatiently on my to read list! Making this list makes me want to devour them all right now lol.

Feel free to go through my archive to find series that I have read, cause there are plenty of those too :”) So without further ado…

Note: please be aware several of the ongoing series are either on hiatus or discontinued or just haven’t been updated in 17392 years lol. I know some people can’t deal with that so do make sure to check if the writers are still active and/or when the last update was! And don’t pressure the writers about updates kthxbai ❤

ONGOING

Aristocrat by @itskimtaehyung

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 3/4

Summary: In which Namjoon pays you for your *ahem* services.

A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning by @therealredraven

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 4/? (discontinued)

Summary: Love comes in many shapes, but does not always have a prosperous fate. However, whereas parents might have found it, all the children can do is live in kalopsia. Forbidden yet denying the mourning of the path chosen for them by Fate.

Blood Princess by @mintchockookie

Genre: angst

Parts: 9/?

Summary: Choi Y/N is one of the most dangerous and feared members of Papa Choi gang. But she doesn’t want to be. Kim Nam Joon is the leader of the biggest gang in all South Korea and craves revenge for having his godfather being killed by Papa Choi. When their paths cross, nothing can hold them.

Untold Stories by @interludemoonchild

Genre: fluff

Parts: 8/?

Summary: A series of drabbles based on Namjoon owning a bookshop in a small town.

What Am I To You? by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: To Namjoon, she could make the salt taste like sugar on her hands. But in the end, she isn’t as sweet as he believed her to be.

COMPLETE

Best Friend!Namjoon by @lamourche

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: “I locked the keys in the car.”

Passionfruit by @joonbird

Genre: smut

Parts: 4/4

Summary: To you, matters of the heart have always been simple. You’ve always lived by three rules: you don’t do emotions, you don’t do attachment, and you don’t do love. That is, until you meet the enigma that is Kim Namjoon- a man who shakes your entire world upside down.

Piercings by @personawife

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/2 + 1 (feat. Yoongi)

Summary: “What’s that sticking through your shirt?”

Rumor Has It by @jjungkookislife

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/2 + drabble

Summary: After hearing a rumor about your best friend, it's all you can think about.

Tear by @polaritae

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: Getting the attention of your crush seems impossible. Good thing your best friend is always willing to help out!

ONGOING

Dame-De-La-Nuit by @cyphahobi

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: First night on the job turns into a week long adventure of business and pleasure. Landing business man, Kim Seokjin as your first client, turns your whole world upside down.

Evanescent by @jinletgo

Genre:angst, smut

Parts: 1/?

Summary: You’re a journalist-aspiring secretary to Kim Namjoon, the CEO of Telescope, a leading lifestyle and culture magazine. One night with a handsome and charismatic stranger ignites a passion and excitement that you didn’t know you had. When that stranger turns out to be Kim Seokjin, the print journalist of a rival magazine, the simple life you take for granted and dream career you’d been working towards are left in jeopardy…

King of Hearts by @thecozywhaleshark

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 9/10

Summary: You are a famous writer who can’t exactly show up to an event alone… so you hire an escort… his name is Jin.

The City Comes Alive by @minflix

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 1/2

Summary: Being a street performer, Kim Seokjin sees many nameless and forgettable faces each and everyday. But there is this one girl that he can’t seem to forget. Maybe it’s because his heart seems to fall in love with her a little more each time she passes him by.

COMPLETE

Aperitivo by @bangtanbetchfics

Genre: smut, feat Jungkook

Parts: 2/2

Summary: On the heels of a breakup, you fall hopelessly in lust with two pastry chefs on your vacation in Venice.

Burden by @neonlights92

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 8/8

Summary: After the death of his wife during childbirth Kim Seokjin is unable to hold his baby daughter without grief taking control. Just three weeks after the love of his life is taken from him so suddenly, Jin is expected to marry somebody new. You are foolish and have spent your whole life pining after Kim Seokjin from afar, even after he marries your best friend, Seul. But suddenly Seul is gone and you are expected to marry Jin and raise his child. You know your heart is already in it, but what about his?

Alt. Summary: A marriage to Kim Seokjin was all you ever wanted. But not at the cost of your best friend’s life.

Don’t Wanna Fall by @9uk

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 4/4

Summary: After your boyfriend breaks up with you, you are in need of company. Strangely enough, you get more company than you had initially wanted.

Alt. summary: His world revolves around wealth, power and most importantly—women. He’d spoil every one of them by his side or on his bed, with limited edition bags and expensive heels. So why is the CEO of kim corporations currently buying you a pet bunny?

In The Bleak Midwinter by @pcyheartgirlx

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 25/25 + 2 different endings

Summary: We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.

Peach Parfait by @jamaisjoons

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: You and Seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at Big Hit Academy of Culinary Arts.

The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 5/5 + drabbles

Summary: You never imagined accidentally attempting to sell your soul to the devil would lead to this…

ONGOING

Addicted by @yoongiandchiminie

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 4/?

Summary: Suga, the Stealth and Weapons guy of Bangtan meets his Soulmate with a bang. He’d grown up believing in the idea of finding the person he was destined to be with and won’t let her get away. Even if she’s addicted, he’s determined to help her. He just wants to save his Blue girl.

Choices by @btsiguess

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 4/?

Summary: You didn’t think that when you woke up this morning you were going to go out and buy a hybrid. But really, ending up with this stupid cat might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Much to both you and Yoongi’s chagrin.

Grey Area by @blushoseoks

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 13/?

Summary: And just like that, your fate was sealed - because min yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

Reputation by @mindayss

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 1/?

Summary: Min Yoongi’s got quite a reputation. As do you.

COMPLETE

Di piano e forte by @justoneday-namjoonii

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 6/6

Summary: Piano; A keyboard of cypress, played with soft and loud. Was it the ivory and onyx keys that let you escape from your reality…Or was it the man with sable hair and ivory skin.

Errantes by @cno-inbminor

Genre: fluff

Parts: 2/2 + Epilogue

Summary: Yoongi accidentally gets spiked pumpkin juice, but it’s not by alcohol. More like it was spiked by a Love Potion – Beguiling Bubbles, to be exact – and Sora may or may not have had a hand in this. The point is, she’s hoping Yoongi will never find out and she’ll be alive to take her N.E.W.T.’s.

Fragility by @writtenyoongi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: “There are a lot of fucked up things about me, you know? And there’s a lot of fucked up things that have happened. But when I’m with you all of those things, yeah they still exist but it’s like they’re a lot further away, I don’t feel as if they’re eating me alive.”

Long Time Coming by @an-exotic-writer

Genre: fluff, angst (?)

Parts: 6/6 + drabble

Summary: In which it’s been a long time coming since you’re meeting Min Yoongi once more.

Private Lessons by @baeseoul

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: “I have an idea,” Once he saw how you straightened in your seat, your gaze flaring with aggravation, he continued quickly, “For every question I get right, you tell me something about yourself.”

Skin Deep by @aquaminwrites

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 10/10

Summary: Yoongi has never—and presumably will never—like tattoos.

ONGOING

Bygones Of The Sun by @scriptaed

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/?

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the rises sun has gone into hiding- because perhaps its shadows have out-shines its own radiance.

Euphuistic by @guksthighs

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: Hoseok’s delivery of flowers does not go as planned when it starts raining and someone mysertious gives him an umbrella.

Plant A Kiss On These Tulips by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: fluff

Parts: 2/?

Summary: After your boss, Jisu–head wedding planner at Ornate Events–develops a ragweed allergy, you are put in charge of working with the florist company In Bloom. But instead of their top-notch flower arrangements, their incredibly radiant owner Jung Hoseok proves to be what catches your eye over the course of the months that follow.

Salted Caramel by @your-miss-right

Genre: fluff

Parts: 9/?

Summary: She liked him…a lot and she just wanted to get the point across. Too bad the wrong guy got it. Note to self: Check orders before writing little notes to the wrong customer!

Starfire by @readyplayerhobi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 6/?

Summary: The schism that broke the galaxy began, as it usually does, over a disagreement. The resultant civil war has raged for hundreds of years. When a ragtag group of travellers discovers something that could turn the tide of war, for good or for worse, the bonds of friendship and love will be tested.

Note: ok but basically just read all of Tali’s Hoseok series sdjfakjaf

Wall to Wall by @winetae

Genre: smut

Parts: 1/4

Summary: Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

COMPLETE

By Its Cover by @crystaljins

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 8/8

Summary: Your annoying little brother Jimin accepts a dare and summons a demon into your living room. There are multiple problems with this. 1) Demons are the most hated species on earth. 2) That demon happens to be Jung Hoseok, the most popular guy on campus 3) The fact that Jung Hoseok is a demon is his biggest secret and 4) Jung Hoseok hates your guts. You’re in for a wild ride.

Life in the Fast Lane by @sugaxjpg

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 1/3

Summary: Hoseok was not someone who expected to find love, even less under the conditions he met you—bleeding to death in an alley, unable to go to an hospital without being recognized by the ones who did such thing to him. Though, he would soon learn that the best things in life are the unplanned, kind ones. Especially the kind ones.

The Black Book by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: smut

Parts: 9/-- (discontinued)

Summary: Being personal assistant involves doing a lot of different tasks for your boss Jung Hoseok–including setting up his rendezvous with his black book clientele.

The Gentlemen’s Club by @brookelegend

Genre: smut

Parts: 15/15 + Epilogue + author’s note + drabbles

Summary: You’ve been in a dating drought, more specifically, a sex drought. Your best friend has the perfect remedy for your problem: The Gentlemen’s Club.

ONGOING

Contraband by @leadermon

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 11/?

Summary: If you had known what you had known now, would you have gone? If you knew who you would meet, the boy with the bright orange hair, and how getting wrapped up in him would tear all your brother had built to the ground, would you have gone?

Crossroads by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 4/?

Summary: You summon Park Jimin, the crossroads demon who rather than taking your soul and granting you wish, wants to become an extremely annoying life companion.

induratize by @hobiwonder

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 5/?

Summary: Prince Jimin had grown up despising people from your empire and vice versa. When your father weds you to the crowned Prince of Haelyra, your kingdom’s sworn enemies, as a form of alliance to fight a greater evil, you struggle to make sense of your new life as the future Queen to be and deal with a husband who cannot stand you.

Jealousy Games by @avveh

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/?

Summary: You decide to play a game of push and pull with your ex Jungkook, bringing Jimin along for the ride.

COMPLETE

Handyman by @drquinzelharleen

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 5/5

Summary: Jimin is your landlord’s son. After one stressful day he comes to fix your shower for you. You find yourself constantly thinking about him. Could he be the perfect submissive?

I’ll Never Be Her by @anon-luv

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 5/5 + Epilogue + drabbles

Summary: You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his. Jimin was the love of your life, your night in shining armor when she wasn’t around. She was his ex girlfriend, his first love, actually she was his many firsts and she kept coming back. He had warned you she was his weakness, but you didn’t listen, because to you having him even if it was only partially was better than not having him at all. At least for now.

Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 7/7 + Epilogue

Summary: Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.

Nine One One by @yminie

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: When murder and crime threaten the city of Seoul, there’s a team in place to help keep the public safe, but just what do you do when all your training is to help others, and the one that needs help is actually you?

Limerence by @jiminscenarios

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 14/14 + Epilogue

Summary: He was a coldhearted asshole and the leader of South Korea’s most wanted gang, whereas she was an innocent and kind college student. They were polar opposites, yet he was so infatuated with her. But opposites are supposed to attract after all, aren’t they?

Love Yourself Trilogy by @threeletterslife

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 3/3

Summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda… but when life throws you curveballs, it is what it fucking is.

ONGOING

Begin Again by @writtenyoongi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 4/?

Summary: Things had been tough since your divorce from yoongi, you were still heartbroken over losing him whilst trying to balance being a single mother and providing the best you could for your daughter. When Kim Taehyung enters your life you start to learn how to love again, but the beautiful man is not without his own source of heartbreak.

The Client by @jungkookiebus

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: Your services applied to many types of people and you were good at what you did, delivering sexual fantasies. This particular client happens to be your personal favorite for more reasons than one.

Van Gogh by @btsjeonjazz

Genre: smut

Parts: 1/?

Summary: Who would have guessed that Kim Taehyung, honorable student and your tutor, had some dark secrets?

V2 by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 9/12

Summary: This series is reader-insert revolving around Taehyung and his long-term surreptitious relationship with Y/N.

When You Least Expect It by @johobi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 12/15 + drabble

Summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

COMPLETE

Change by @junghelioseok

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 9/9 + Epilogue

Summary: A kind, handsome stranger makes you question your deteriorating relationship.

One Good Purr (Deserves Another) by @jinpire

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 4/4

Summary: Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to visit Taehyung just before your heat. (Or to ask if his best friend was available.)

Summer Love by @analovegirl

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: It was Summer when he lost his whole world, his family and his identity. And it’s summer again when he comes across the girl he swore was his enemy. Join Taehyung, as he tries to find his true identity– as a human and as a merman, along with the mystery of his parent’s demise.

The Chrysanthemum Effect by @rosaetae

Genre: angst

Parts: 10/10 + Epilogue

Summary: Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it’s already everything you need to move on. How do you move on from things if you’re not willing to accept them?

Yarn by @dreamhimcloser

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: The mere idea that someone will kiss you while you slept made you shiver with disgust, but your educators promised you time and time again that this is exactly how you reach true love.

ONGOING

Block Party by @minlucent

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: Moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake.

Employee Perks by @chiminiemoans

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 3/?

Summary: Sure, the employee perks at your job were bonuses, life insurance, sick leave, health benefits etc. etc., but the best employee perk of all was working with a man known as Jeon Jungkook.

In Debt by @ichirakukpop

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 2/?

Summary: All your life you’ve been taken care of by your rich father and his money, but when a someone named Jungkook barges into your home demanding for his money back, your life is turned upside down.

Serendipity by @rohobi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 10/13

Summary: The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. After forgetting to click out of his pornhub incognito tab last night, you find yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook at 3am watching the rest of it.

COMPLETE

Anima Meaology by @arckook

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 4/4 + Epilogue

Summary: Your best friend was never supposed to know that his name was on your wrist.

Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 6/6 + drabbles + spinoff oneshot

Summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely.

Goldilocks by @perpetually-jungshook

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 10/10 + drabble

Summary: After getting evicted, your two best friends Jimin and Taehyung offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Needless to say, with a part time job and a mountain of student debt, that’s not happening any time soon. Eventually, they DO become really fond of having you around, helping with chores and even splitting rent. So when you come home one day to find someone has been sleeping in your couch-bed, well… it’s something you won’t take lightly.

Oath by @bangtan-yeonghon

Genre: angst

Parts: 33/33

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

Watch Me Babygirl by @lunarimagines

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 20/20

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

Will You? by @jungee

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 2/2

Summary: Jungkook + you = prom dates??

ONGOING

Bangtan Crossing by @mintedmango

Genre: fluff

Parts: 4/?

Summary: You step off the train in the quiet of dusk with a relieved sigh, just looking at the awakening of some stars and the bottoms of trees of this countryside town in awe. It was so different from the city, so dark at night, not lit up by thousands of street lamps and buildings turned on in the wee hours of the evening.

Lifeline by @forgottenpasta

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 6/?

Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?

Lueur De Lune by faery_kth (AO3)

Genre: fluff

Parts: 5/?

Summary: Your recent move has caused a lot of stress and you decide to take a stroll by the little lake behind your house only to find the moon and her fallen star.

Over the Moon by @threeletterslife

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 6/8

Summary: You feel isolated in the vast American country with no one but your older brother and your six rowdy friends to keep you company. But when they disappear without a trace, you’re left with nothing. Nothing until you become dragged into the world of the mob. The mafia world promises glory, fame and big bucks. But that comes with backstabbing, pain, regret and vengeance behind the veils. You’re not ready for that alone. Are you?

Potions, Magic, And Otherworldly Charmers by agentlemanshat (AO3)

Genre: fluff

Parts: 3/7

Summary: Have you ever imagined Namjoon as a high-end witch? Jungkook as a werewolf or Jimin as a merman? And a magical world full of possibilities? Well, look no further! Because here is where it happens.

Twisted Tails by @kmseokjins

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 4/?

Summary: After the death of your older sister, you're suddenly entrusted with her two hybrids. Who knew that following your sister's wishes would eventually turn your life upside down.

Void by @btssavedmylifeblr

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 6/?

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

COMPLETE

A Fairy Tale’s End by @bangtan-dreamland

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 8/8 + Epilogue

Summary: You wanted, for once, to be someone important, someone needed- to be wanted and appreciated, to love and be loved. Well, you should be careful what you wish for.

College by @btslibrary

Genre: smut

Parts: 7/7

Summary: A 7-part BTS smut series.

Hybrid House by @hollyhomburg

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3 + Epilogue

Summary: To Seokjin, Home consists of his human partners Namjoon and Hoseok as well as their Hybrids; the pups- named Taehyung and Jimin, their black cat- called Yoongi, and their foxboy- called Jungkook. Together they have the happiest family possible, everyone loves everyone equally. So what happens when Namjoon finds you? A cat hybrid, beaten close to death left alone in an alleyway on the coldest night of the year? He takes you home, shows you his family, and together they teach you what love can be like.

congratulations you made it to the end....lol. enjoy all these fics and give the authors lots of love, okay? 🧡

#bts fan fic #bts fic recs #namjoon fluff #jungkook fluff #yoongi fluff #taehyung fluff #seokjin fluff #hoseok fluff #jimin fluff #g recs #g replies #anon

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theladyofdeath · 5 years

Text

Rags & Riches {5}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: Oh snap.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

It had been a week since Cassian had managed to get Nesta back to her room unseen. She had woken with a pounding headache with her dusty shoes removed and placed neatly beside her bed. She had still been in her gown, but she was tucked in snugly.

However, she did notice that she had been missing her bracelet and assumed she had lost it somewhere in her drunken endeavors. She tried not to feel too disappointed, considering who had gifted it to her, but it was her own fault.

Nonetheless, the stableboy had taken care of her, even though Nesta only remembered glimpses of their night out at the tavern.

Yet, she had purposely been avoiding him at all costs. Not that she went to the stables often.

When carriages were drawn, she waited indoors until it was pulled up front, ready to be loaded. She did not take Marigold for any rides, unless she was one hundred percent certain Edward was in the stables, not Cassian.

Perhaps it was petty, but she could not face him, not after what she had remembered.

She knew she had drunk far too much, had confessed far too much. She was even certain that, at one point, she had called him handsome.

She had called the stableboy handsome.

And he had taken care of her.

Nesta pushed the thoughts from her mind as she chose an unread book from the master library and trailed through the house.

“Miss Nesta! I have been looking everywhere for you.”

She froze, looking over her shoulder to find Alis trailing after her down the long hallway. “Yes?”

“You have received a letter, my Lady. Also, your father will be leaving this evening, after supper, for his journey north. He wishes you all to have a lovely dinner together in the main dining hall, promptly at six.”

“Thank you,” Nesta said, taking the letter from their maid.

Alis curtsied. “Good day, Miss.”

“Good day, Alis.”

The moment Alis had disappeared around the corner, Nesta broke the seal and unfolded the letter. It was in that old familiar handwriting, the same handwriting she had seen all too often.

My dearest Nesta,

I hope you do not think too poorly of me. You will always have a piece of my heart, more so than my betrothed could ever have. Could we meet soon? I surely hope so.

Nesta was fuming.

He still wanted to meet? After he had led her to believe he would propose, then introduced her to his new fiance? Ha! Absolutely not. Tomas was an even greater fool than she thought to have written her such a thing.

“You look angrier than usual.”

Nesta’s head jerked up to find her youngest sister leaning against the railing at the end of the hall, overlooking the main entrance. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Of course not,” Feyre said, simply. “You were too busy reading whatever that is in your hand.”

Nesta quickly crumpled up the paper in her hand. “It’s garbage.”

“Hmmm,” Feyre said, then brushed it aside. “Excited for our big dinner with papa before he heads up north?”

Isaiah Archeron’s trip to the northern territory was his longest business trip of the year. This year, it was crucial, as they were running low on funds. He typically stayed just under a month, leaving the girls alone with Alis.

Now that they were old enough to raise themselves.

Or something like that.

“I suppose,” Nesta said, Feyre making her way toward her. “I am certain we will be eating a pork roast since it’s papa’s favorite.”

Nesta was not a fan of pork roast.

The two went into the library and sat next to the windows where they could see Elain hovering over her garden.

“Has she been acting strange lately to you?” Feyre asked.

Nesta took a moment to sort her words. Yes, she had, but Nesta wasn’t going to mention it. “I am not certain she is fond of Lord Lucien.”

“I don’t know why,” Feyre began. “He is handsome and kind. Out of all of us, Elain had always been the most excited to marry. At least, that is how it seemed. And, I thought father had chosen the perfect match for her with Lucien.”

Nesta agreed. “She hasn’t said a word about him. I would have thought she would be bouncing off the walls, already making wedding preparations.”

Feyre chuckled, looking out the window at her sister. “Perhaps she’s just nervous. Once Lucien asks for her hand, her entire life will change.”

Nesta mumbled her agreement, but couldn’t take her eyes away from where Elain sat on her knees, plating her newest seeds to some plant Nesta had never heard of.

She wore a dress, although it was hiked up to her knees. It was the only time she was unladylike - when Elain was in her garden. Yet, she still made it all look graceful.

“All I know is out of the three of us, Elain deserves to be happy.”

Nesta looked at her youngest sister and met her eyes, their mother’s eyes, the eyes identical to her own.

And she couldn’t agree more.

~~~~~

Elain loved her garden.

It wasn’t the sunniest of days, but Elain still thought it a great day to plant her chocolate cosmos. She had been waiting for her seeds to be delivered, and once Alis had announced that they’d arrived, she couldn’t wait any longer.

Besides, she loved the peace and quiet being outside in her garden brought. It was just her, and sometimes Alis. Her sisters didn’t find the same appreciation in gardening that she did, which was fine. It was Elain’s thing.

She stood, once her planning was done, and dusted off her hands. She admired the plants that were already sprouting stems above the top layer of dirt and took a deep breath. A few flowers had even begun to bloom, and she found herself awfully proud.

Her garden allowed her to display her talents. She brought life from seeds, created something from nothing.

Once her hands were clean enough, she pulled the note she kept tucked into her dress pocket. After unfolding it, she looked at the simple signature and couldn’t stop her grin.

El,

I watched you in your garden today. You look cute with dirt smudged against your cheek. In my dreams, we live in the countryside and you have your dream garden. You grow flowers, and vegetables, and I always tell you how amazing you are at it.

Which you are. Incredible.

But you are incredible at everything. Surely you know that.

I miss you.

I love you.

I can’t wait to sneak a kiss goodnight.

The note had been pushed beneath her bedroom door in the middle of the night. She awoke at dawn to find it sitting against the wooden floorboards, and found her soul lightening at its words. As expected, they had not seen much of each other since their night together. Their wonderful, amazing night together. Elain had fallen asleep thinking about it every night since. His hands against her skin, the way his breath felt against her neck as he pushed himself inside of her. Every now and then, she caught his eye and blushed, wildly, only earning a small grin in return.

They had to be careful.

But it was so damn hard.

She loved him.

And he loved her.

So why couldn’t they be together?

Then there was Lord Lucien.

He had written to her twice within the last week and she had felt obligated to send a reply, although her heart was not in it. She felt guilty, horribly guilty. He was so kind, so deserving of a woman who found him charming and worthy.

It wasn’t that Elain did not find him charming nor worthy, it was just that someone else had already captured her heart. Then again, she knew that she could not marry Azriel. She knew that she was meant to marry Lucien, was supposed to marry Lucien, would be a great match for Lucien. And, more so, Lucien would be a great match for anyone. He was kind, gentle, handsome, wealthy.

He was everything she was supposed to want.

Everything she was told that she should have wanted.

But everything she wanted was in a man that she would never be able to have.

And at that thought, she slowly folded up the note and put it back in her dress pocket.

~~~~~

Nesta was right.

Supper’s main course had been pork roast.

The four of them ate in silence, unsure of how to fill it. It was always that way when they chose to eat as a family, which was few and far between since their mother had passed. Yet, Isaac thought it necessary, especially before he left for a period of time.

Three butlers stood against the walls, silent after serving their course, waiting in case one of them needed anything. Two of them, Feyre recognized. The young, dark haired one. Azriel, she believed, was his name. And Anthony, who had been around since Feyre was a little girl.

Then there was a third, who Feyre thought she had seen in the stables. After stirring her mashed potatoes and gravy for the tenth time, she looked to the young man and asked, “Aren’t you the stableboy?”

“Feyre,” Isaac chastised.

The man simply smiled politely and nodded his head. “Yes, Lady Feyre. Oliver was feeling unwell this afternoon, so I offered to take his spot during mealtime, just until he was feeling better.”

“That was kind of you,” Elain smiled.

Feyre and Isaac agreed, although Nesta said nothing, staring at her pork roast.

“Have you heard more from Lord Rhysand?”

It took Feyre a moment to realize that Elain had been speaking to her. She cleared her throat, “Yes. He wrote just yesterday, in fact.”

“Ah,” Isaac smiled, setting down his fork. “And what did he write?”

“That he hopes to visit soon,” Feyre said, “in which I replied that he shouldn’t.”

Isaac stared as Nesta snorted. “Feyre, that is rude. You should write him again, inviting him to call.”

“Why?” Feyre asked, completely forgetting about her food. “He is selfish and wants me as a wife because I am beautiful.”

“Conceited, much?” Nesta mumbled.

Feyre ignored her, continuing to stare at her father. “He has not even asked you for my hand so I owe him nothing.”

“He is a Lord,” Isaac shot back.

“He is insufferable,” Feyre snapped, taking a large bite of potatoes. “And he can kiss my-”

“Feyre,” Isaac scolded.

“Hand,” Feyre finished, staring at her father. “He can kiss my...hand.”

Nesta snorted, but remained quiet.

“Well, I talked to Lord Rhysand and thought he was quite lovely,” Elain chimed.

“And what of Lord Lucien?” Feyre beamed. “Have you heard from him?”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink as she hesitated. “Yes. He has written twice since the ball.”

“And?” Nesta asked, as Feyre stuffed her mouth with more mashed potatoes.

“And,” Elain began, glancing toward the butler against the wall before continuing, “he is excited to visit us here again soon.”

“Any mention of a proposal?” Feyre asked, mouth full.

“Feyre, do not talk with food in your mouth,” Isaac scolded. “You know better.”

Elain cleared her throat. “No. Not yet.”

“Shocking,” Nesta said, picking at her food without really eating it. “I would have thought he’d be outside on one knee waiting for you to accept after he charmed you at the ball.”

Elain’s cheeks reddened further, but she said nothing.

Isaac cleared his throat, having already cleared his plate. “As you girls know, I will be leaving tonight. I should not be gone any longer than four weeks. Although, if I am, it means that business is booming and I cannot leave. In that case, I will write. Edward will be joining me.”

Nesta’s eyes shot to the stableboy, then back to Isaiah. “Well, we wish you luck and look forward to your return, papa.”

Feyre and Elain chimed in their agreements before resuming their meal.

“At what time do you leave?” Nesta asked.

“When we are finished here,” Isaac proclaimed. “Alis will watch over you, of course. However, you are all women now and can look after yourselves, no doubt. I expect you to write often, especially if anything goes amiss.”

Feyre grinned, finishing off her plate. “I assure you, we will be fine.”

Indeed, they were used to being stuck at the manor. They had not left much during the last few years, since their mother’s passing.

Isaac smiled and took a look at his three daughters. “I know. I have raised you well.”

Feyre smiled, although she had to admit that her heart wasn’t in it. Everything had been off since their mother died. As she looked at her sisters, she could feel it. They were both hiding something, although she had no idea what. Nor did she care to find out, since she was hiding a secret of her own. She couldn’t wait until her father left so that she could go into town and play cards with the locals.

Once they were done, they all rose from the table and saw Isaac outside, where Edward was waiting with a packed carriage.

Isaac kissed each of his daughters goodbye before he closed himself inside and was off, nothing more than a shadow being erased by the growing distance.

~~~~~

“You have a girl, don’t you?”

Azriel froze where he sat atop his bed. “What?”

Cassian nodded to the pen and paper in his lap. “You’re writing to someone often. I assume it’s a woman.”

“Ah,” Azriel chuckled, glancing down at the ‘E’ written on his otherwise blank sheet of paper. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“A fling?” Cassian asked, kicking off his muddy boots and plopping down on his cot. “Or someone you intend to marry?”

Azriel took a moment to think about it before responding to his roommate. “She is the love of my life.”

“Congrats, mate,” Cassian said, wholeheartedly. He had grown to like Azriel within the recent weeks, since they had become roommates in the servant wing. Azriel was quiet, but he was kind and held no judgement. Cassian tried his best to be the same toward him.

“What about you?” Azriel asked. “Is there a girl for you?”

Cassian chuckled and shook his head. “No. Just my mother and sister back home. I write to them often, although i haven’t heard from them yet this week.”

“Oh?” Asked Azriel. “How old is your sister? Where do they live?”

“An hour’s ride south,” Cassian began. “I grew up in a small village there. My sister just turned seventeen. She has her eye on one of the local farmer’s sons. Although, if you ask me, he’s not worthy of her one bit.”

Azriel chuckled. “No? Why not?”

“I knew the guy, growing up,” Cassian explained. “I know too much about him, if you know what I mean. He’s been with too many women. Loves himself too much.”

“And your sister?”

“Kind,” Cassian explained. “But can take care of herself. Stubborn, just like my mother. Has very strong opinions, which many think women shouldn’t have, but I beg to differ. I grew up in a home full of strong-willed women, and wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“What about your dad?” Azriel asked, writing on his sheet of paper as he spoke.

Cassian took a moment to answer, realizing he and his roommate had never had a truly deep conversation before. “He left when my sister was young. He was a prick, horrible to my mother. I was eight when he left, but I was glad.”

Azriel nodded, but didn’t reply.

Cassian watched as Azriel wrote his letter to his lover. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Azriel laughed, short and quiet.

“Your family?”

Azriel took such a long time to reply that Cassian almost thought he hadn’t heard.

“I was abandoned as a child, adopted by an older couple. Diana and Renald. Diana was kind, but she was terrified of Renald. As was I.” Azriel talked slow, as if finding it difficult to remember. “He was an ass. He instantly knew I was different, knew of where I had…” Azriel paused, as if having trouble finding the words. “Come from. He treated me the worst. Partly because of my background, I assumed, and partly because I was the only other male. He...abused me. Often. And I ran away the moment I could, promising Diana that I would earn enough to get her free of Renald someday. That I am still working on. But I shall get there, soon. Diana writes to me often.”

Cassian cursed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Azriel shrugged, not taking his eyes off the letter he was writing. “That’s life.”

Cassian supposed so. Although if that was life, he was certain that life was not fair. He thought to Lady Nesta, when he had escorted her the week before. She had given herself to a man who thought nothing of her, then left her completely alone in their holier than thou circle. Cassian firmly believed that life was not fair, and only they had the power to change such a thing.

“Do you enjoy working here?” Cassian asked.

Azriel took a moment to think. “I would not trade this experience for the world.”

Cassian nodded, remembering his night a week before with the Lady Nesta.

“The Archeron sisters are an interesting trio, aren’t they?”

Cassian swore Azriel tensed, but then his roommate nodded.

“Yes,” Azriel said, quietly, folding his sheet of paper into a neat square. “They are.”

~~~~~

Feyre tugged on her trousers and waistcoat before tucking her long hair into a newsboy hat. The boots in the bottom of the chest at the foot of her bed slipped on easily.

After one last look in the mirror, Feyre stuck her head out of her door to make sure the halls were clear. Once she decided it was safe, she hurried down the hall and down the main stairway. Once she had reached the floor, she tiptoed into the sitting room, toward a side window, where she could slip out and easily reach the ground, knowing to keep it cracked so that she could get back in later.

But she didn’t open it. Just as she was about to, she froze.

Just outside was Elain, hurrying away with a tall, dark haired man, hand in hand.

She was smiling.

It wasn’t until the man turned to look down at Elain that Feyre recognized him.

Before Feyre could fully process what she was seeing, she was running back up the staircase, straight to her eldest sister’s room.

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red @littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @queenofillea1 @mynewdreamwasyou @levivlio @hellolenas @burritowithfeels @that-other-pineapple @girl-who-reads-the-books @raghad-50725 @musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld @negativenesta

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #elriel #nessian #feysand #r&r #tara writes

227 notes · View notes

spell-cleaver · 4 years

Note

Vader picked up the toy, fear trickling in his chest as the pieces slowly fell together in his mind. Luke was nowhere to be found... And his son - warmth bloomed in him at the mere thought - was no longer afraid of him, so it made no sense for him to run away... They had taken him. That was the only explanation. The toy was torn apart and fell to the floor as panic overwhelmed Vader completely, all at once, like a wave. Luke was *gone.*

Previous parts on the masterpost here!

Vader picked up the toy, fear trickling in his chest as the pieces slowly fell together in his mind. Luke was nowhere to be found... And his son—warmth bloomed in him at the mere thought—was no longer afraid of him, so it made no sense for him to run away...

They had taken him. That was the only explanation.

The toy was torn apart and fell to the floor as panic overwhelmed Vader completely, all at once, like a wave.

Luke was gone.

There was a rumbling noise, a tearing, and feathers burst around the room, spinning in dizzying patterns, as the bed and mattress exploded under his rage. The shower of white flickered, eddied with the currents of the Force, but then—

The leather of his gloves creaked with how hard he clenched his fists but no. He reined himself in. This was Luke's bedroom, the one he'd chosen, full of his beloved toys—the ones which didn't stink of poison and subterfuge. He would not destroy it. He would not destroy it.

Not when everything else was already destroyed.

Luke was gone.

He marched out of there, a whirlwind in flesh and metal, a single, driving arrow. He pawed at the bond they'd only just started to develop but it was weak; nothing could get through. It was stretched thin and distant, so taut it tugged on his heart painfully, and he wanted to roar.

He did.

His anguish echoed around the lake house, the birds who'd been singing with the morning startled out of their perches. Luke had gone to bed happy last night, after Vader had reassured him that he would always be safe with him; he had been content. But when Vader had gone to find him that morning, when he hadn't turned up for training...

He was gone.

The room was empty. Luke's Noghri guards were found unconscious outside, and when Vader examined their mind, they were... they bore the marks of a skilled, brutal mental invasion. Force-sensitive, then.

They bore the marks of an attack by an Inquisitor.

Of course the remaining Inquisitors were with Palpatine; they knew that already. Of course he hadn't stopped sending people after Luke.

Of course Naboo, with the lower security than on Coruscant, despite the utmost secrecy with which they'd conducted their visit, was not as safe for him.

And now he was gone.

Sabé... Sabé had insisted they come here. Sabé had put Luke at risk, despite his objections, despite his points about the danger, she had put Luke in the line of fire—

And Luke had been so, so happy because of it.

Vader deflated, then roared again, something collapsing in his chest. Because he knew that he was so selfish that if he could turn back time, if he could stop them from ever coming to Naboo, kept Luke cooped up in the Palace... he wouldn't have.

Luke had been so happy here—Vader had been so happy here.

Luke had accepted him as a father here.

Luke, Vader vowed to himself, would not see his end this way.

"Sabé!" he bellowed, and some of the Noghri guards who were still on duty sprang to attention at the razor edge in his voice. He could sense their minds, on the floors below, and resisted the urge to unleash his wrath on them; they had been meant to protect Luke. They had been meant to keep this from happening.

They had failed.

Sabé came rushing up the stairs to this floor, emerging onto the landing—this delicate, elegant, airy landing, with the flowers trembling in their vases and the thin patterned rug rippling underfoot as he desperately tried to suppress his fury—with a look in her eye. "What is it? Ahsoka says that Luke was late—"

"Luke," Vader growled, "is gone."

Sabé froze.

"What?" she uttered. She looked like she'd had the world ripped out from under her; like she was floating, dead in space, with no gravity well to anchor her.

"I found... a toy, in his room. Its fur was poisoned. I have never seen that toy before. And his Noghri guards were attacked and disabled."

Sabé put a hand over her mouth. She swallowed, and said, thickly, "And... Luke...?"

"Not a trace."

She sucked in a sharp breath, gaze catching on the corridor towards Luke's room. She started towards it—

"Do not. It is not in any state that will be beneficial to our enquiries."

She glanced back at him knowingly—sympathetically—like she knew exactly what that meant.

"Someone should tell Ahsoka," she said distantly, but she narrowed her eyes; he could already see the cogs working in her brain, her hands starting to twitch as she made gestures with the lilt of her thought, ideas starting to spark.

"Someone," Vader said, "should find Luke."

A ship had gone by in the night. Quiet as a whisper, it had deposited someone, then it had returned to pick someone—multiple people—up, and vanished. Sabé contacted the government in Theed with the utmost secrecy to find if they had any records where such a ship could have come from or gone. Ahsoka meditated and searched the Force for answers, leading search parties all over the place, contacting contacts all around this area of space.

Vader paced and panicked.

"Where would Palpatine have a base?" Sabé drilled him at one point. "Are there any planets or stations you know of that he would have turned to, that would have supported him over you? Any bases?"

"If there were," Vader snapped, "then keeping them secret from me would be precisely the point. The apprentice is always fated to rise up against the master; he would have been prepared, so he could outwit me."

"Which he might have done now. With Luke."

"He has not!" he roared.

Ahsoka cut in, "What about places strong with the dark side? Do you know of those?"

Vader paused. "What?"

"Places strong with the dark side. Like... Malachor, or somewhere where the energies are at their most intense. He would be at his strongest there, and most likely to come back."

And then Vader froze.

He knew.

Where would Palpatine go to be resurrected? What place, what planet, would be ideal for that; what building could have been designed to channel the dark side so perfectly?

He had spent his time hoping for resurrection, once.

He had built a castle on a planet he thought would have made it possible.

He had failed. But that place had remained his base—his base, under the careful watch of the Emperor's red guards and Vaneé, the Emperor's servant-spy—until...

Until Palpatine had died.

Until he'd had to stay with Luke.

And in his absence... had Palpatine...?

Of course he had.

"I received an intruder alert at my castle on Mustafar several months ago," Vader said. "The security alarms had been triggered. I assumed it was the native Mustafarians launching another assault—it is not uncommon for them to do that—and dismissed it." He gritted his teeth. "The castle was... built to channel the dark side energies on the planet, particularly to bridge the gap between the living and the dead. I can imagine he encouraged it to be built this way with this purpose in mind; he... had already kidnapped Luke, when I was trying."

"Who were you trying to resurrect?" Ahsoka asked warily, but Sabé just gave him a disgusted look.

Vader did not look away. "I believe they have taken him there."

There was no argument from the women. He clenched his fists.

He had lost everything on Mustafar. His health. His brother. His wife.

Now, he vowed, he would not lose his son, too.

Send me the first sentence of a scene from this AU and I might continue it!

Beginning | Previous | Next

#luke palpatine #the heir #my writing #random words on a page #darth vader #sabé #ahsoka tano

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darkwritingsnshit · 4 years

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Things Change

Warnings: This will turn into a dark fic, not sure when but it’s coming. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, kidnapping, drug mention, noncon, asshole characters.

This is a Loki fic based on a blurb that came to mind after reading some prompts.

This is what I began with: “Tears cleaned stripes down your face, the blood giving way to saltwater. It blurred your eyes, blinking furiously to clear your eyes but still everything was tinged red. Between the blood pouring from your temple and a lacerated kidney you could hardly stand, steeling yourself against the waves of nausea and trembles in your legs.

“You used to be more fun.” Towering over your crouched form he chastised you. “When we were children you would have never pulled a stunt like this, you used to worship me. What changed princess?” His words were like venom dripping from his lips.

“You did, asshole.” You managed from your doubled over position on the floor, clinging to the wall for whatever balance you had left. “You changed everything.”

And it has developed from there.

Flowers had begun to bloom bright across the lavender fields, an afternoon sun slanting across the grass in a shimmering hue. Hummingbirds hovered between branches of fruit trees while fish splashed from the river, gurgling as the wind swished through the trees. Years of being surrounded by others eventually gave way to finding solace in nature where you belonged.

Vanaheimr was refreshing from Asgard, a near opposite in feel and looks. Where Asgard based communities around buildings or monument, Vanaheimr was ethereal and nature oriented. The Vanir moved with nature, the forests the waters, the peoples woven into the earth around them. It was where you had decided to call home for the last decade or so, energy from the very air itself soothing the years away.

Millenia came and went as you grew, though the past shaped your future more than you could remember. An old war took parents you couldn’t picture, leaving you a ward of Odin’s council to split your time between the halls of Vanahmeimr with Freyja and Asgard with the Allmother. It was quite a contrast.

A year in Asgard was busy, two live in brothers darting in and out of the palace at all hours, royalty and ballgowns, feasts and speeches, it truly was the pinnacle of the nine realms. You learned a lot, training hard with Thor and Loki, learning magics with Frigga, though when you tried to practice with Loki, he would always show you up or knock you down.

Time in Vanaheimr was far more relaxed, always soothing frayed nerves from the fast-paced living of Asgard, a much-needed reconnection with the elements and cool earth. Healing, learning, wisdom came from the earth and water, the sky, the winds if you listened, studies guided by Freyja and Vanir elders, magics ebbing and flowing with the changing world around you.

Though Vanaheimr was your home, you had chosen to live at the palace for years after your adolescence. The palace halls continued to be a circus ground, though the longer you stayed, the dimmer the gold seemed in the torchlight, Years in the golden halls of Asgard’s palace wore longer as they passed; growing up in the halls made them seem smaller now, the company of the court more abrasive. Decades of walking down the same guild staircases made you ache for home, the energetic conversations of warriors traipsing through the halls a buzz over the always echoing stone.

Truly when Frigga passed, you saw a shift in Asgard, a shift in her family. Thor and Loki killed Malekith quickly, recaptured the aether and sent the girl away as a darkness settled over the palace. The woman who raised you was gone, your teacher, confidant, and reasons for staying in the palace you had become so disillusioned with were gone. The brothers you had grown up with seemed broken by grief and anger, blinded by their own and Odin’s rage, the Allfather himself seemed set on making war with someone, so desperate to blame anyone for his wife’s death.

Vanaheimr was the balm on your wounds, finally able to grieve and find peace, you settled into the small home you had left years earlier, put down roots and began to grow.

Half a century gone in the blink of an eye, time always sifting by like the waters of the rivers, though days, months, years, didn’t mean much to the Vanir. Still there were parts of Asgard that lived with you.

If you went your entire life without seeing it, you would recognize it still, the bright flash of the Bifrost blinding the world before restoring the colors around you. You could hear it, the beating of hooves, feel their vibrations shaking the ground, feeling scent and energies, recognizing old friends from a lifetime ago.

Somehow Fandral never changed, years between his last appearance in your life he looked the same, blonde hair tousling in the wind, sly smile turning up the corners of his mouth. Loki however, looked little like your memory, even from a distance. His hoofbeats heavier, energy overpowering, even his magics had a different frequency as the pair rode closer on horseback, slowing to approach your home, walking up to where you stood before the door.

In a single motion Fandral slid off his horse into an exaggerated bow where you stood; your hands dirty from the garden, clothes torn from working with the earth all day.

“My dearest princess, and oldest friend,” Fandral began before standing and taking your dirty hand in his, “our princes and king of Asgard are hosting a feast to commemorate and honor your late mother.” He gestured grandly to Loki upon finishing his unspoken proposal.

Meeting his eye, you saw both the little boy you grew up with and something else, something that you didn’t recognize, something that scared you. Loki blinked and dismounted, coming to stand with you and Fandral before your front door.

“Would you like to come in?” You stepped backward, reaching for the door, but Loki stopped you with a raised hand.

“I’m afraid we’ll be unable to stay, no matter how much I may want to.” His voice was deeper, his hair longer, he couldn’t be taller, could he? Half a century meant almost nothing to any of you, though you could see that Loki had changed.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been at court,” he continued, “my family and I have missed your calming presence. It’s been a long time since our mother passed, but now my father, Thor and I have decided it’s time to honor her.” Loki stood close, looking at you carefully. “You should be there. She loved you as much as she did Thor and I, you know it well.” He stepped back slowly, dropping your hand and remounting his horse, eyes still on yours. “Two moons, and we’ll all be together again.”

With a few hoofbeats and a flash they disappeared again.

#My writing #my works #dark writings #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader

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scarletravenswood · 5 years

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All About Eostre

The Pagan Goddess of Dawn 🌤️

youtube

Eostre is the Germanic goddess of dawn who is celebrated during the Spring Equinox. On the old Germanic calendar, the equivalent month to April was called “Ōstarmānod” – or Easter-month. As a holiday, Easter predates Christianity and was originally the name for Spring Equinox celebrations.

Most of the symbolism around this holiday actually comes from the pre-christian Pagan celebrations of the Spring Equinox. For example, we paint Easter eggs with bright colors at this time of year. The bright colors are a reflection of the spring flowers blooming and egg itself may be linked to chickens’ return to laying after the long winter months where chicken’s lay very few, if any, eggs. The Easter rabbit symbolizes fertility. We all know that bunnies get pretty busy if you know what I mean ;) so they are a perfect animal to symbolically represent the fertility of springtime.

Returning to the topic of Eostre, the evidence for her as an actual goddess people worshipped is a bit uncertain. She’s mentioned in the writings of an 8th century monk known as Venerable Bede, who reported that pagan Anglo-Saxons in medieval Northumbria held festivals in her honor during the month of April. Other than this text, we don’t have much information about how she was honored by the Pagans. Whether Eostre was really worshipped as a goddess or not, by the 19th century she had become an important part of German culture and she was added into German literature, paintings, and folklore.

Jacob Grimm, one of the two Brothers Grimm, wrote “Esotre seems therefore to have been the divinity of the radiant dawn, of upspringing light, a spectacle that brings joy and blessing, whose meaning could be easily adapted by the resurrection-day of the Christian's God." It makes sense that the chosen date to represent the rebirth of Jesus was based around a time(the Spring Equinox) that was already being celebrated for light and life.

In describing German Pagan traditions, Jacob mentions “Bonfires were lit at Easter and water drawn on the Easter morning is, like that at Christmas, holy and healing - here also heathen notions seems to have grafted themselves on great Christian festivals. Maidens clothed in white, who at Easter, at the season of returning spring, show themselves in clefts of the rock and on mountains, are suggestive of the ancient goddess.”

By reviewing his writings about German Pagan traditions, we can derive a few ideas on how we as modern pagans can celebrate the Goddess Eostre for the Spring Equinox. For example, In terms of ritual wear for the Spring Equinox I plan on wearing a simple white dress and creating a crown out of local spring flowers. As Eostre is the Goddess of the Dawn, I plan to wake up early on the morning of the Equinox to greet the new day. As Jacob Grimm attests to the healing power of Equinox water, I plan on collecting morning dew from the local grasses & flowers and putting it in a jar to place on my Ostara altar as an offering to the Goddess Eostre.

To me Pagan reconstructionism is figuring out how to stay true to the ideas and traditions behind the ancient rituals and festivals even if we can’t celebrate them exactly as our Pagan ancestors would have done. We really don’t know that much about the Goddess Esotre and how the Pagans celebrated her, so the best thing to do is collect the information we do have and stay true to the underlying spirit of the traditions to best of our ability.

I’ll be doing a video next week on making an altar for the pagan holiday Ostara, so stay tuned. Will you be celebrating the Spring Equinox this year? Share your Equinox plans in the comments! 🌸

#ostara #eostre #pagan #paganism #Wheel of the Year #wicca #wiccan #witch #witchcraft #baby witch #babywitch #spring equinox #witchblr

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bangtanscenery · 4 years

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May Flowers Teaser Masterlist

As the showers settle, seeds bloom into flowers and love flows through the air. Come May, and the flowers colour the fields and the sun gives warm rays of joy.

Introducing the second part of our two-part collaborative project: April Showers Bring May Flowers.

At the end of this month, you’ll find stories that’ll bloom warm feelings. Want to know more? Check under the cut to see what may come during our May Flowers.

- @heyitsmeee2

After you graduated from college, you forgot all about Seokjin. That is, until he shows up at your high-school reunion. Will you two mend past conflicts or will you stay enemies?

- @httpangelicjimin

After finishing college, you finally get the chance to fulfill your childhood dream of opening your own restaurant with your best friend. The only difference is that in this one, you’ll actually have real food, instead of imaginary. Everything was going smoothly until you meet Seokjin. He may be one of the best cookers of whose food you had the pleasure to try, but his attitude… Oh dear, his attitude is deal-breaker.

- @bts-poetry

Growing up together, Seokjin had never thought that he'd end up falling for his best friend. He wasn't even sure if his friend was gay, all he knew was that he was madly in love with him. What happens when he finally musters up the courage to confess his feeling?

- @randomkoalablog

Sometimes you have to work a little harder to rebuild what was broken.

- @kitsutaes

your brother tricked you. just go with it, he said. it’ll be fine, he said. you were fine taking care of his kids, but not with min yoongi.

- @thebiasrekkers

Everything always comes full circle. A soul falls into the ether, hoping to be reborn in the next cycle. If a desire is strong enough, it can manifest across space and time. Two souls reunite and are given a second chance, hoping that their love will be rekindled even stronger than it was before.

- @moccahobi

Hoseok had always been big on supporting his friends. Thus it came as no surprise that he ended up spending his free time at Namjoon's latest business venture: a little dessert cafe. He didn't expect to fall for the cute barista who always worked when he was there though.

- @boywivlove

Reader has moved back with her parents in her small hometown; after her life hasn't turned out the way she had hoped, and dealing with bouts of depressive thoughts. When she runs into an old friend from school, can he help her through her low point to see the sunlight after the storm?

- @namluve

After waking up and discovering that Hoseok is well and alive, the two of you have to figure out why the timer on your wrists says zero. In midst of it all, the two of you have to plan your upcoming wedding, dealing with family members and friends. You and Hoseok take on the challenge and grow stronger together.

- @spicykoreantatertots

Kim Namjoon, suspected leader of a drug ring and your recently discovered soulmate, has been arrested for the murder of two people. It's up to you and three of his friends to prove his innocence and free him from his wrongful imprisonment.

- @thebiasrekkers

Blind, but not broken - Namjoon has learned to live with his new ailment. He went on to continue working for the UK based firm. One day when meeting a new client - he is disturbed by the streams of light filtering in his vision. Then he hears a familiar voice.

- @joonsrack

You really want to leave a post-it behind saying something like: 'Going on a road trip with Namjoon, don't know when we'll be back.' But you're an adult, you're not petty. Except you totally are.

- @thebiasrekkers

Jimin's curse is broken, allowing him to return to his own time. But there is a sense of emptiness that lingers inside of him as he readjusts to his former life. Just as things start to make sense again, he's greeted by a face he's longed to see once more.

- @moonmintrails

The time had come for the seventh sun to rise. For the seventh and last color in line to have its cycle. As one indigo supernova signified the coming of a purple nebula, you and Taehyung spent the remaining of your last day together creating something of your own. If it comes into fruition can only be known years in the future. A decade after you found someone unlike anyone. Truly one of a kind. Someone with a destiny they couldn’t outrun. It has been 10 years since the birth of a purple sun.

- @luxekook

every sunday, the farmers’ market took place in the center of town. vendors from near and far traveled to sell their crafts, their produce, their teas. as the local florist, you figured that running a booth each weekend would boost your business and bring in new clients. at least, those were your reasons in the beginning. but, now? now, you returned each and every sunday just for the handsome blacksmith who set up his handcrafted jewelry booth next to yours.

- @ddaenysus

the truth was out, there was no way for him to keep you away, he was your soulmate. as jungkook comes to terms with everything, he decides to help you recover your memories; taking you home and trying to recreate all of the most important events of your previous relationship.

- @bangtan-dreamland

Three months of adventure, three months of friendship, of romance, of love found and then lost. They aren't about to let it end like that, not when their happy ending was just in reach- and if the curtain falls too early? Then they're ready to push past any obstacle in place.

Dreams have a funny way of toeing the line between fantasy and reality. Three months before one of the happiest days of your life, your graduation, you find yourself into a mysterious bookstore called 'The Magic Shop', setting off events that lead you on a rollercoaster ride. Seven men arrive into your life- and they're determined to stay, for good this time.

- @thebiasrekkers

After the first encounter with an Agent of Hell, the truth comes out about the world around her. Now Hobi strives to show her that, even if she is one of the chosen few, his love for her is real. Jimin also struggles to help Saoirse find the worth in her existence after losing her best friend to the darkness. While at Tenebrarum, Layla continues to confound the Devil - and he's not exactly sure how to deal with it.

- @2dreamcatcher8

As it turns out, a little will and a lot of love were all it took for (Y/N)'s bad day to become monumentally better. [Alternatively: The maknae line is very excited, the others just want to sleep, and there is an amusement park involved. Needless to say, chaos ensues.]

#bangtanscenerycollab #april showers bring may flowers #collab event #spring collab #network collab

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yukippe · 4 years

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flowers so very delicate

@pjofemslashweek day 2: au (soulmates) | read on ao3 | word count: 3.1k

new rome is a city of flowers.

the myth says that people were once two sided. that they were whole. that zeus took them and tore them in half, full of jealousy. myths, of course, are all based in truth.

all mortals might have other halves, but it is when the children and chosen of the gods share souls that are able to find their soulmates. when two soulmates touch; flowers bloom. in new rome, a city of the gods favoured, the streets are full of colour and petals.

reyna grows up in a family blessed by bellona. her and her older sister are the goddesses children, but her family has always been favoured. flowers are not unheard of and prized, but they are also hidden. a soulmate could be a weakness, a soulmate is unheard of for mortals that do not know of the gods. when she and her sister escape and find themselves on circe’s island a scarce handful of the women have flowers. those that do keep them on display.

when the men take over the island, reyna thinks very little of flowers and thinks much more of trying to escape.

it’s in the after, when she finally settles in new rome, that she thinks of soulmates.

not everyone in new rome has a soulmate, after all not everyone falls in love or stays in new rome. most people in new rome have a soulmate.

reyna comes to new rome alone with flora free arms, and no one minds. she meets jason when they’re both twelve and she starts to know she’s in the right place as he laughs with her and fights with her and somehow they both know to very carefully avoid skin to skin contact. soulmates are something special. what she has with jason is special - he’s her best friend. and neither of them want to know if being best friends isn’t enough.

they go to the movie theatre in the city and carefully separate the popcorn into the extra bag they asked for, they go to the cafe and they never grab the others drink first to pass it to them, when they spar the winner doesn’t pull the other onto their feet. reyna knows the legion and the city thinks the two of them are being silly, that they should just touch and the flowers will be there waiting.

but reyna’s lost more than she should. and all jason knows is the legion. neither of them are ready to risk it. so they shove each other in the winter when they are bundled up in layers, and keep space between each other when they sit and watch the sunset.

they make it two years. at fourteen reyna falls off scipio and jason saves her. it should’ve been a moment of relief, instead they both freeze at the sight of their still empty skin. jason finds reyna after the mess of it all.

“i don’t care if we aren’t soulmates,” jason says, sitting next to her on reyna’s bunk.

“i do,” reyna tells him. she hasn’t met his eyes since he held her and nothing showed on their skin. now, she turns her head to meet his gaze. “i care that we aren’t soulmates. but, you’re still my best friend. and you aren’t going to stop being my best friend just because we aren’t separate halves. your girlfriend can be your second half, or something.”

jason opens his palm to her and she takes it. he smiles at her and she smiles back. “well,” jason says. “i can hug you now.” and then he throws his arms around her and they fall of reyna’s bed and reyna doesn’t even mind that much that their arms aren’t covered in flowers. instead, she laughs and laughs and squeezes jason tight.

after that, if they’re within two feet of each other some part of them is touching the other. when people ask reyna ignores them, jason smiles with his too sharp teeth and claims they’re making up for the two years of their friendship when they always kept apart.

they aren’t soulmates, their connection isn’t enough for vines to grow around their limbs, or for sunflowers to sneak across their faces, or for bluebells to be found hiding between their fingers as they hold hands. reyna cares, but only because she cares about jason. reyna doesn’t mourn a half she’s still going to find, instead she teases jason about who’ll be brave enough to come close to the wolf boy.

and then she meets venus in charleston and the words she hears swim around in her head, promising a life so barren no child of ceres could heal it. no demigod will heal your soul. she will never know her other half. reyna will never be blessed with the sight of her flowers on another’s skin. her touch will never cause life to bloom. she takes venus’s words and she buries them in the half of her soul she will never know how to fill. reyna might live her life without a soulmate, but no one else has to know that but her.

reyna sees soulmates find each other more times that she can remember. new rome is a garden of souls finding their missing half. reyna tells herself half of a soul isn’t soulless.

by the time they give her praetor there a few members of the legion her age that are never seen with flowers. reyna thinks of the women on circe’s island and she does not cover her arms. she is not lesser without a soulmate to be found.

she drives the legion forward, she hugs her friends and doesn’t ache for petals she will never know. she rides scipio and from the sky she can’t see the gardens growing on skin. she takes care of those she loves and she is reyna avila ramirez arellano. no one mentions that she has not found anyone. she is 16 and she has time, in their eyes. more importantly, reyna makes herself into the perfect praetor.

and then jason grace goes missing.

even perfect praetor’s are not able to rule alone. she does her best. she does everything right. reyna dodges octavian's touch, even though she’s felt his slimy fingers on her arm before. he wants to fill a space that belongs to her best friend, the boy who could’ve been her soulmate. soulmate praetors are a dream in the eyes of many. reyna couldn’t care less.

instead of wallowing she searches for jason. and after months of looking, percy jackson arrives as a saving grace. part of her would prefer the grace she knows, percy jackson comes with faded flowers he traces everytime his eyes catch them. he is a mystery and reyna has no idea how to solve him, nor the time to try. instead she watches him leave on a quest and breathes easier when he comes back.

someone who has already met their soulmate taking the place of praetor eases reyna’s worries. reyna doesn’t need to feel bad about not being his soulmate if he already has one.

except it can’t be that easy.

there’s a war. there’s seven to answer the call, and only six to come home. reyna finds herself with a new praetor by her side and her best friend across the country on a semi-permanent basis and he doesn’t even remember her well.

reyna’s been having a very bad year. but she lives with it. she adjusts. she hugs frank and laughs when he asks if it’s true that she and jason are secretly soulmates, and then he helps her set that rumour to rest.

there are meetings with camp half blood and jason becomes a liaison, and when he visits camp jupiter again they watch the sunset. it’s another sunset of so, so many for reyna. but she watches jason’s face more than the sun as it drifts down through the sky, because it’s the first for him.

reyna and frank raise the ages of when demigods start their service and lower the number of years needed significantly. she goes to a game of capture the flag and is thoroughly surprised when the greeks beat her team of romans. she shakes the hands of all of piper’s siblings as piper watches hopefully, she is patted on the back slightly aggressively by the children of ares and she gets pulled into a very awkward group hug by a cabin lead by two almost identical boys with mischievous smiles.

flowers never sprout. reyna lets it go, she’s had time to learn to let it go and learn to not care and she’s gotten very, very good at it.

what she cares about is being happy, now. and she has that. She’s had that since she first found camp jupiter and the son of the camp’s namesake welcomed her with a smile better fit for a wolf.

and then, reyna starts to grow up. at seventeen she surprises two camps and a hidden city and chooses to go to a university other than the university of new rome. she goes to fucking harvard.

“harvard?” frank asks her as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

“yeah,” reyna says smirking. “fucking harvard. being the mayor of a small town looks really good on college apps, i think. and i’m getting the legion to bankroll it. imperial gold is a lot more in mortal currency.”

“okay,” frank says. “but like, did you do high school? Because i haven’t really been doing high school since before i got here.”

reyna laughs at that. she puts her bags back down and pulls out her phone to text frank some links he really should’ve had, “i do night school and online school. the entire legion should be? I guess you can go bother them all to start while i’m at harvard.”

frank shakes his head, but then he pulls a hat out from behind his back and reyna starts laughing again. it’s maroon and in big lettering on the front it has the harvard logo. reyna asks him where he got it, but he pays her no mind. he puts it on her head and pulls it down too far in front of her eyes. before jumping back out of her range. “well, i guess you’re going to harvard. stay away from frat parties!” he smiles at her and reyna rolls her eyes at him and pulls him in for a hug. flowers don’t grow, but reyna doesn’t need them to know that frank was the best co praetor she could’ve asked for.

and then he walks her to the bus and she sits at the back of a bus no one else gets onto. it stops in new rome and no one ever gets on or leaves, reyna doesn’t know why but she’s always like the idea of how confused the bus driver must be. she certainly startled him when she stepped on and paid her fare, and reyna smiles at the driver when he makes eye contact with her in his rearview mirror. he doesn’t make eye contact with her again for the rest of the trip, not even after other passengers filter on.

harvard, for the most part, is easier than being praetor and (probably being the only roman demigod) doing high school. her classmates are mostly awful and reyna would like to show some of her professors why monsters fear her name almost as much as percy jackson’s, but she shows restraint. all those years with octavian finally come in useful.

no one at harvard has flowers that came from their other halves' touch. reyna thinks there are one or two greek demigods also on campus, but she doesn’t see the telltale flowers anywhere. so either they’re very good at avoiding her gaze or the other demigods at harvard are also bloom free.

it’s nice. she gets to laugh at her own jokes and she goes on dates with girls that aren’t watching for petals as their fingers brush and none of the friends she makes try for touch too much or too little. reyna can’t remember the last time that skin contact didn’t mean something. she entertains getting a tattoo of a dead plant on her shoulder, but she lets her roommate talk her out of it pretty quickly.

when she goes back to new rome for the summer in the tiny apartment she gets for her service as praetor she teases her friends who are stuck in summer school because they never thought about high school until frank made a big fancy assembly after reyna left in september. frank and leila have grand plans for high school education - even though neither of them have finished high school yet - and reyna sees construction ongoing for a school behind one of her favourite parks. it makes her smile.

there’s a reunion for the seven and company when reyna’s in town, leo makes a crack about how she’s been missing longer than he was and reyna’s eyes soften as she she’s the red camellias and hyacinth jason’s touch leaves on leo as he puts his arm over leo’s shoulder. they weren’t there until after leo came back from death, but no one knows why. then, leo tugs piper close and reyna is properly surprised when she sees geraniums and asters grow on piper’s arm. (later she will find piper and get the story out of her. once she has the story she’ll go to hug jason and tell him how happy she is for them all)

she’s forgotten the way it feels to be around soulmates. but there’s frank and hazel who are as free of flora as reyna remembers, like her. nico covers the flowers of the boy he’s been seeing he’s trying to keep a secret from her she thinks he’s worried she’ll threated the mystery boy. he’s not wrong) and percy and annabeth will never be found without each others jasmine, thyme and chrysanthemums. reyna finds it hurts less, even knowing that it’s likely one day frank and hazel will find flowers too.

reyna has a life where no one knows of souls that make their mark with blossoms.

reyna joins the harvard climbing team her second year for kicks and also out of spite. she goes to her program’s societies events and has been known to drop by the chess club to and make the members cry. she’s involved. but, as dakota had pointed it out with far too much glee, she’s not on any sort of athletic team or club.

so she picks up climbing. if she’s going to fucking harvard she might as well join the fucking harvard team.

later, dakota will say she owes him. reyna will offer to spar him for credit when he mentions it and he’ll back off.

in reyna’s second year when she joins the climbing team, a first year named zia rashid joins too. zia’s originally from egypt, but she did high school in brooklyn where she was staying with family friends. she’s majoring in history and has a minor in earth sciences and is planning to do her masters in archaeology. she’s a little addicted to smoothies and reyna is going to fall off the climbing wall one day because of her.

their friends, really, just friends. they spot each other on the wall and zia is one of reyna’s few friends at harvard that knows she was the “mayor” of a “small town”. reyna really, really wants to go out with her.

they’re getting lunch together after they leave the gym when reyna finally gets up the nerve to ask her out. she’d been teasing zia for ordering a smoothie even though she’d had one as they walked over to the cafe.

“uh,” reyna laughs as she watches zia’s mouth maybe a little too closely. “how many smoothies is that today?”

zia sighs at her, “well i didn’t know we were coming here. the restaurant next door - i wouldn’t have ordered a smoothie there. but this place is my favourite.”

reyna raises an eyebrow, “you didn’t give me a number.”

zia pulls her straw out of her mouth and sighs. “here try this,” she says. “it’s the best thing you’ll ever taste. try it!” she starts waggling the drink at reyna and reyna grabs it when zia’s smile turns soft and teasing.

she tries it. “okay,” reyna says, still holding onto the drink. “maybe you have a point.”

zia gives her a knowing look and then reaches for her drink back, but reyna moves it out of zia’s reach. zia’s mouth drops open, “i. you.”

“i like it,” reyna says with a shrug. and then she steals herself and goes for it. “let me take you on a date and get you another one.”

the hand zia had in the air that was trying to get her drink back freezes. for a moment, reyna worries she read their quiet moments and late night perfect grammar text chains wrong. the hand drops to her side, though, and zia’s face turns warm. “yeah,” zia says. she pushes her hair back behind her ear and reyna thinks she just got a hint at one of zia’s little gestures she’d been curious about. “yeah, that sounds good.”

for a few moments they just smile at each other across the table. eventually, their hands find each other under the table and reyna gives zia her drink back. in those few moments though, reyna is reminded of sunsets with jason and nights with nico after shadow jumping across the ocean and horseback rides with hazel and calls with her sister.

they don’t let go of each other’s hands until they have to pay. all reyna can see is zia’s eyes and they wander out from the cafe bumping into each others sides and reyna can’t remember the last time she was this close to someone.

zia pulls reyna down to a bench and reyna bumps into zia softly, her heartbeat faster than normal in her ears, but it doesn’t sound like it’s racing. nothing needs to be a race with zia. reyna brings their linked hands up to her mouth to kiss when she sees it.

she’s never seen roses bloom when soulmates touch before. she could’ve sworn she’d bumped into zia before in some way that would’ve had their skin touch, but reyna had grown used to being kept apart and carefully not getting close enough to be disappointed.

zia’s eyes are wide and reyna’s mostly confused as to how she didn’t know.

“i haven’t seen you in any nome, though,” zia says.

“um,” reyna says. and then she realizes what nome means as she remembers a story from percy and annabeth about magic and a different pantheon. “oh. that’s because i’m roman.”

zia blinks, and then understanding flashes through her eyes, reyna giggles lightly and zia squeezes their still linked hands. “we both have long stories to tell, i think,” zia says.

they share them. soulmates are not unique to the children and blessed of the greek and roman gods, reyna finds. and as she listens to zia’s stories she knows she would’ve found zia with or without the roses on their palms.

#pjofemslashweek2020 #hoo #tkc #arellashid #reyna avila ramirez arellano #zia rashid #rey's writering #i literally just finished this i kno its late whoops...#i literally picked this day theme just so i could write this fic and i was still late

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