leaves frozen in ice

anonymous asked:

Could you please write a Drabble either for the one where Lexa gets cold or the one where she needs to try and a lot of clothes for an Arcadian celebration?

Clarke shifts from foot to foot, lip caught between her teeth.

They’re both not saying what they’re clearly both thinking.

Keep reading

Ice and Thorns

For @hypertomboi


He had everything he wanted; power, money, food that only a peasant can dream of, a mighty castle that stood proud and tall, and blessed with looks that would make any young maiden’s heart throb. But was he happy? No.

His heart was as cold as ice, his touch would leave you frozen in place, his voice was booming and demanding. He was the King of Winterfell after all… His lands were nothing but miles of snow. It’d freezing during the day, and unforgiving at night. His villages would suffer from the lack of food, some to the point of running away.

Surrounding his icy domain were three other kingdoms; Flora, Solaris, and Autompne. Their kingdoms were pleasant, with food to be plentiful and filled to the brim with joy and contentment. The king was envious, it only hardened his cold heart even more. His citizens were fully convinced it’d only get worse and worse.

Until one day, the king decided to ride his best horse through the woods…

Oh, stop writing about us
as though we 
are opposing elements 
that found a way to make it work 

You are not fire
and I am not ice

I am a person
with feelings
and a heart
that can break.

But you forgot that,
so we’ll play it your way

You can be the fire 
that went out in the night,
taking all the warmth
and leaving nothing behind

So I am left frozen,
forever ice 

But at least this way
the cold remains
to numb the pain
of this heartbreak

—  I hate you and your poetry about me || O.L.
Where it is

The satisfaction of holding
stars in my hands
and knowing my shroud is warm
with universes.

A pinprick reminder;
goose bumps rippling and rising each time
your name flows into

                  (No. Let me start over.)

Adrenaline flooding through the
caverns and tight spaces of the circulatory
system; pupils expanding into
dark blots in a starry patch of sky.

Irises capturing the storms of Neptune
and the chases of Jupiter. The polar ice caps melting
whenever you leave me standing frozen in place.
I am a planet drowning, but my heart still beats.

                      (I think I have it.)

Wild wheat slapping against open skin. The taste
of seasons, autumn flavor masking the hint of
summer’s death. Locusts swarming for days,
settling on a patch of warm sunflowers.

The incredibly human filtering through nature. Winds
screaming through ruins in climax; a crane crooning a lullaby
to the quiet night—
the only sound you’ll ever rouse out of it.

                         (Almost done.)

The cries of a string bass, mourning the loss of innocence
in a used cello. Cellular structures
bending and twisting the fabrics of what was
into what is; the symphony of atoms. A pebble

among pebbles among rocks and trash on a beach
that houses weathered stone and whispering dune.
It is the spice that keeps me beating
heart eyes for a galaxy. Home.

–”Where there is love, there is life.” Mahatma Gandhi 


frozen leaves by h g
Via Flickr: