yOOO I SAW YOU WERE DOING REQUESTS AND I WAS WATCHING SAY YES TO THE DRESS AND I WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU WOULD DO AN IMAGINE WHERE DRACO GOES DRESS SHOPPING WITH YOU?!
Word count: 866
A/N: so sorry if this sux
“Draco, you know the groom doesn’t generally come to these things, right?” You asked as you walked hand in hand with your fiancé Draco Malfoy.
He shook his head in disregard. “I don’t care. You need someone to go with you. And all that ‘bad luck’ crap is bullshit.” You just shook your head with a small smile, knowing Draco wouldn’t let you go all alone.
Today you were going wedding dress shopping. Since most of your family is sick and your best friend had a family emergency at the last minute, you had planned to try on dresses alone. But Draco wouldn’t let you. He knew how excited you were deep down to find your wedding gown, and he didn’t want you to be by yourself. Something about it made your heart swell, but also made your roll your eyes, seeing as Draco was the most stubborn person you know.
You sneaked a glance at him as he walked. His hand was still tight in yours and he was gazing around curiously. He began to hum mindlessly. A wide smile broke out across your face. You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone more perfect.
As you approached the bridal shop, you started to fee a bit nervous. What if Draco didn’t like any of the dresses? You shook the thought from your head, reminding yourself Draco would find anything pretty on you. You got set up with a bridal consultant named Pippa, who led you into a room full of ivory racks.
There were hundreds of dresses, and you had no idea where to look. “Merlin”, you heard Draco mutter behind you. Pippa instructed you to pick out some gowns you like and meet her in the dressing room.
“Draco, go sit. I’ll be out soon and you can give me your input.” You smiled as he nodded and kissed your forehead gently. You quickly made your way through the racks, selecting a variety of colors and styles. To be honest, you really had no idea what you wanted yet, you just figured you’d know when you tried it on.
With Pippa’s help, you slid on your first dress. It was a creek colored fit and flare gown with a sweetheart neckline and a long train. It was glittery near the neckline and exaggerated your curves. As pretty as it made you look, you weren’t completely sure. You needed some input from Draco, though you weren’t sure it would be very helpful.
You felt butterflies in your tummy as you stepped out to where Draco was sitting. Momentarily forgetting to lift the train as you walked you nearly fell flat on your face. Your fiancé pretended not to notice and focused only on you. You nervously tried to read his facial expression as you stood in front of him, but you couldn’t. He was expressionless.
Finally, he spoke. “Y/N. You look-” his voice cut off momentarily, which worried you. “-absolutely gorgeous.” He ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words. After all this time, four years of dating, he still had this affect on you. He still made you feel like it was your first date. And you loved him more than anything for it.
When you didn’t say anything, he spoke again. “Do you love it?” He asked, looking you in the eyes. You swallowed hard and gazed into the mirror in front of you. It was true that you looked very nice, but you just didn’t feel like you had imagined. Something was missing, but you couldn’t figure out what. “I- yes. It’s great, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t think this is it, Dray. Is that ok?” He just gave you a reassuring smirk, saying, “of course baby, this is about you.”
How had you gotten this lucky. Next, Pippa pulled a large dress off the rack that you remembered picking out. It was a ball gown style, your favorite as a young girl. She helped you get the large train and fabric on and something clicked within you. The dress was pure white, slightly puffy, had a lace torso and a sweetheart neckline. It just felt… perfect to you.
Not being able to form words, you simply gave a nod to Pippa, who opened the door and led the way to your fiancé. He had been talking to an employee when his voice went dead silent. You watched as his eyes ran over you and the dress, the smile on his face getting bigger every moment.
This time, you spoke before him. “Dray. This is it. This is my dress.” He just nodded. “I know, love. I know.” And suddenly you were sobbing, and he was holding you, and even Pippa got a little testy eyed. This dress just somehow felt right, like it was made for you, for the both of you.
He broke the noise by making a comment about how the dress was only slightly whiter than his hair, making everyone let out a little laugh. Suddenly, the world felt in balance. You were going to marry the man you love in the dress of your dreams.
Girls should care about ball gowns, their hairstyles, princesses, their appearance, and getting married.
*talk about fashion, celebrities, reality tv*
why are girls so vapid? Why don't they care about anything besides looking hot? You don't deserve jobs, equal pay, or equal attention in educational spaces. You don't deserve to be heard because your opinions are meaningless.
*talk about sexism, feminism, politics that affect their lives, things they have experienced. Vote, read, and share their opinions*
you bitches need to shut up and go back to fashion. It's all you know. Why do we even let them vote? They have no idea what they're talking about.
New Life In New Lives (Hercules Mulligan x Reader)
“I don’t care what he said, it doesn’t mean jack squat” self conscious reader x Herc + “Sweet Hercules smut please? Where reader is a lil sad and Herc cheers her up by showing her how amazing she is *wink wink wink* you get what im saying? I love your blog. Grade A <3. ”
These were so much fun to write! Sorry I couldn’t make full on smut, the story was already so long and I couldn’t make it any longer but I hinted at it for you. If you can’t tell, I got a bit carried away. Enjoy!
A wail rang out in the halls of your once dead-silent house. Your eyelids quickly flipped open, as you began kicking off your sheets and rolling off the bed.
“What’s that, the third time so far?” Hercules grumbled, still snuggled under the sheets next to you.
“She’s just a baby, Herc. You can’t possibly blame her.” You said as you swung your legs off the bed.
Hercules placed his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.
“Relax, I’ll get her.” He said as he gently pulled you back into the bed and rolled out.
He stood up, turned and smiled at you.
“Anything for you.”
You grinned as he stumbled out of the room to the nursery.
You laid down and recalled the past year or so with Hercules. You had fallen in love with him mere months before he had to be sent to war. He was your family’s tailor, sewing all of your family members garments: everything from evening ballgowns to bath robes. He had no clue who you were; he only knew you by your sizes and fabric preferences. But you knew all too well who he was.
You could recall your crush on him that had formed years ago when he began working for your family. Being the churlish young girl that you were, you would peek at him from behind the doorframe, or even go so far as to hide in the closet of fabrics and thread, all so you could stare at him as he meticulously worked on his projects. Always focused and never idle, you sometimes giggled at the sight of a very large, handsome man pouring his heart and soul into the pink, frilly dresses he made for your little sisters.
Then, one day he requested you come down for some new sizing. A gown had to be made for your debutante ball, and for whatever reason, Hercules wanted to measure you himself. You had just taken a bath, and dressed in nothing but underwear covered by a soft robe. You had never been so nervous. After two soft knocks, his door opened, and he invited you in. You remained silent as he instructed you to stand up straight and remove your robe. You quickly obliged, releasing your grip on the silk and letting it fall to your ankles. He then began to circle you, eyes bathing in every detail. He grabbed a note pad off of his desk and scribbled onto it before taking his tape measure wrap it around your waist.
“So tell me, (Y/N),” he suddenly inquired, breaking the silence. “Why have you been hiding in my fabrics closet?”
You felt your cheeks burn with a bright red blush. You had no idea that he had any clue of your hideout.
“I…. Uh….” You stammered as Hercules let the tape measure slip off of you, and prepared to measure your chest.
“Like watching me work?” He suggested as he looped the ruler around your bust.
“Yes.” You quickly replied, thankful for his guess that made you seem like less of a creep.
“Are you sure?” He had asked, looking right into your eyes with his big, brown ones and tightening the ruler around your chest.
And the rest was history. You two fell madly in love, making every possible excuse to see each other. You went so far as to deliberately tear up your own clothes so you could bring them to him to mend. He purposefully messed up his sizing, and always asked for you to come down and see him for corrections. You were intimate every change you had. From holding hands under a table or soft kisses when no one was around, to him sneaking up to your room late at night and passionately making love. Your affections were in secret, but you did not mind.
Then everything changed.
“You what?!?” You had screamed at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
“(Y/N),” he began, trying to defend himself. “I can’t be a tailor forever. I want to be an important part of history.”
“So you’re going to go out there because martyrdom is more attractive than a life with me?!”
“(Y/N), you know that’s not what I meant…”
You two argued for the remaining few weeks. Then, he left.
You had never felt so empty.
But that emptiness was filled very soon. You found out that you were pregnant.
All that followed after was a blur. You quickly wrote Hercules, frantic, upset and confused. He wrote only two words back.
Your parents, though disapproving of the marriage, still allowed you to marry Hercules. Having a daughter married to someone a few classes below the family was more honorable than having an unmarried daughter with children. Marriage papers were promptly sent to Hercules, and he signed them. The night he returned, you eloped. By that time your belly was noticeably swollen with child.
You heard the door swing open again, snapping you out of your moments of recollection.
“(Y/N), she’s hungry. And I can’t really help with that.” Hercules mumbled as he crawled back into bed, defeated. The baby continued to wail in the background.
You gathered up the strength in your tired body and pushed yourself off the bed, steadying yourself on the floor. You padded out of the room as you glanced back at your husband, collapsed back onto his side of the bed, probably already asleep. You followed the cries down the hall until you finally reached the nursery, where your little girl was red-faced and sobbing with hunger.
“Good morning, my love.” You whispered as you reached down into the crib and gently lifted her up. Her screams subsided when you rested her against you. You let your shoulder slide out of your nightgown, and lowered her to your breast, where she instantly attached to you and began suckling.
You sighed with relief as her tears quickly came to a stop, and gently kissed the top of her head as she happily nursed.
Lifting your head up again, you caught a glance of yourself in the mirror. You sighed in disappointment. You hated your new look. With the pregnancy came putting on many pounds, hips widening, stomach stretching out, thighs becoming fatter, and breasts swollen with milk. You had expected your weight to drop after you had given birth; but unfortunately it stayed.
Suddenly, your baby detached from you, content. You smiled as you kissed the top of her head once more as you swaddled her back into her blanket and placed her into her cradle. She was babbling and her feet were kicking against the wrap, full of energy and ready to play.
“Shhhh…. little one. We must sleep now.” You cooed.
She continued to wriggle on the crib mattress. You began to gently rock the crib, attempting to coax her into sleep.
Sleep my love, and peace attend thee
All through the night;
Guardian angels God will lend thee,
All through the night,
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber steeping,
I my loving vigil keeping,
All through the night.
Her eyelids fluttered as both your singing and gentle swaying pulled her back into a sleepy state.
Angels watching ever round thee,
All through the night,
In thy slumbers close surround thee,
All through the night,
They should of all fears disarm thee,
No forebodings should alarm thee,
They will let no peril harm thee,
All through the night.
As you finished your last line, she was fast asleep, still tightly swaddled and her thumb in her mouth.
“Goodnight, my little angel,” you breathed as you turned to exit the room.
But your eye caught the mirror once more. You couldn’t help but stop and turn to face it, crest fallen. Your hands grabbed the stubborn fat surrounding your abdomen.
You eyes the largeness of your hips, and your cushiony thighs that lay beneath them.
You remembered the days when Hercules would make excuses to slip his hands and tape measure around your skinny, youthful, near-perfect frame. Back when your body was tight and glowing with health.
And now here you were, chubby after only a few months, throwing away your wonderful body for good. Your father hadn’t had the mixed words to say either, ever since he saw you after the pregnancy.
“Who knew Hercules would turn you into such an ugly cow of a daughter.” He laughed, crushing your spirit.
You weren’t used to this. You weren’t used to being so…so… ugly.
You stopped angrily grabbing at yourself when you heard someone approach the doorframe.
“My love, why are you still up?” Hercules asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“I was just…thinking.”
“Well come back to bed. Lay with me.” He persuaded.
“Hercules….does this, bother you?”
He raised his eyebrows in confusion.
“This, new figure.” You explained as you turned back to face the mirror, hands groping your newly formed love-handles.
“Of course not.” He replied as he sauntered over to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his chest.
“It’s just…so different.” You whimpered, falling back into him.
“I barely notice it.”
“Well my father sa-”
“I don’t care what he said, it doesn’t mean jack squat. Do you really think it means anything to me? Come, look over here,” Hercules said as he gently pulled you away from the mirror, and directed your attention to the cradle.
Your baby girl was asleep, her chest falling up and down lightly, still sucking at her thumb. A few strands of hair delicately rested on her forehead.
“You made her. Isn’t that astounding?” He said, eyes filled with pride.
“And why should I care if you’ve gained a few pounds? You’ve given me the greatest gift I could have ever received. And you’re still as intelligent, witty, and gorgeous as ever.” He continued.
You looked up at him and smiled. He could always make you feel better.
“Besides, there’s more to love now.” He claimed as his hand playfully squeezed your ass.
You squeaked and slapped him away as he chuckled.
“Not in front of the baby!” You harshly whispered.
“I was just trying to prove my point.” He shrugged, grinning.
You turned your attention back to the crib. She was absolutely wonderful. Hercules was absolutely wonderful. There was so much love in your life, why let yourself be miserable at a single comment from your father? Hercules was right. As he always was.
You felt him grab your hand, and begin to gently tug you out of the nursery, and back into the bedroom.
“I love you so much,” you sighed as you approached the bed.
“What, you’re not going to say it back?” You asked.
“No,” he responded grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into him with a soft, gentle kiss. The kiss was followed by another, until he began making a trail down to your neck. His hands expertly began slipping your night gown off.
I’ve been working late so catching up with prompts now! ;;
Day 4 “Romeo, Romeo…”
“I think this is a bad idea, Nino,”Adrien sighed,running his hand through messy golden locks.
“Stop being such a party-pooper, man,” his friend replied, slipping a peacock blue mask over his eyes.“You want to get over Rose, right? The most beautiful women in Paris will be at this ball tonight. It’s the best place for you to be!”
“We’re going to be spotted,” Adrien warned his friends, shifting the heavy drum from one arm to another. “Why are we walking into the lion’s den?”
“Relax, lover boy,” Nino grinned. “It’s a masked ball! No one will be able to tell it’s you. Let’s roll.”
Adrien sighed again, and pulled on his own black leather mask with pointed ears.
The banquet hall was full of young girls in their finest gowns, but Adrien noticed one, not dancing, but sitting alone at a nearby table.Her robe was dusty pink and modest, and her mask lay in pieces on the wooden table.
“Is this seat taken?”he asked huskily, suddenly taken aback by the big blue eyes now watching him.
“Go ahead,” she waved, before returning to her mask, trying to fashion the pink flowers back together.
“What happened?” Adrien asked, motioning to the mess.
“A jealous classmate,” she remarked.
“I see,” he nodded. “I can understand her jealously, though. You are the prettiest girl here. In fact, I would like to thank her for breaking the mask, because now I am able to see your face.”
“Oh?” the girl laughed at his forwardness.She held out her hand, and he brought it to his lips in a kiss.
“May I know your name?”she asked.
“It is a secret, Mademoiselle,” he said, tapping his black mask. “Call me Chat Noir for now.”
“Very well, Chat Noir,” she smirked. “I am Marinette.”
“Marinette,” he repeated. “Would you like to dance?”
And so they spent most of night in each other’s arms, though on every third dance, Chat Noir had to give way to another, so as not to raise any eyebrows. He was delighted when each time, Marinette would return to him, her favoured dance partner.
The night too soon came to an end, and Nino was jostling him. “We need to go,” he hissed. “I think Nathaniel has noticed us.”
The blonde nodded, and searched for Marinette. He wanted to say goodbye, but she was pulled away by a woman he assumed was her mother.
“Do you know who that is?” Adrien asked Nino, as they made their escape.
His friend glanced back. “That’s the only daughter of Lord Dupain. Marinette, I think.”
Marinette could still feel the blush on her cheeks as she brushed her hair for bed. She had danced all night with a complete stranger, mere hours after her mother had told her that Theo wished to take her hand in marriage. He was much older than her, but her mother thought it a good match. Marinette had asked for some time to think about it, but even now she knew her answer. If she had to marry, she would much rather it was the blonde-haired boy with the green eyes that she had met at the masked ball.
Marinette wandered out to her balcony, hoping that the night air would cool her cheeks. She gave a frustrated sigh, wishing she had acquired the boy’s real name.
“Chat Noir!” she exclaimed to the sky, placing her hand against her cheek. “What use is that?”
“You called, princess?” a voice called from below, and Marinette jumped with fright. She peered down, and was just able to make out a boy all in black, with golden hair.
“What are you doing here?” she squeaked, her fingernails digging into the marble of her balcony. “How did you find me?”
“I flew over these walls with the light wings of love. Stone walls can’t keep love out.”*
Marinette giggled at this. “Are you here to tell me your real name, Chat Noir?”
“Alas, princess, you cannot love a rogue with a name such as mine.”
*real line Romeo uses. They are both romantic saps
Happy Holidays to @sarcasticsardothien from your DHS secret santa! So this is 10 million years late, and I apologize profusely! I feel so bad, i just kept having unfortunate things pop up that prevented me from writing. So i figured I would make this a New Years thing for you instead, so happy New Years! May it be amazing and wonderful as you are! <3 You said you love Rowaelin (same) so here is my fanfiction I wrote just for your beautiful self! Let me know what you think! Both you and all my wonderful followers!
Terrasen was wild and ruthless, no one could deny
it. The land stretched out into mountains, covered in forests with massive
trees and vast caves. The screeches of eagles and hawks, and the occasion
scream of panther was all that broke the air. The snow on the mountain tops had
spread to the valleys, blanketing everything in a layer of white. Glimpses of
grey peaks and dark green pines stood out in the infinite wilderness, the rest
remained hidden from the eye. If you just scanned the landscape, it was easy to
miss the two small cabins burrowed between the alps; almost invisible because
of the recent silver and white covering. The occupants had watched the flakes
floating from the sky the night before, though soon even the moon had been
blotted out as a curtain of clouds and snow was pulled shut over the universe.
Aelin stood in a little patch of level ground on the
side of one of the mountains, squinting at the new rays of sun cresting over a
cliff. Her breath came out in steam, the warmth of her magic thrummed in her
veins. Winter wasn’t made for her, the cold and her heat were in a constant
battle of wills. While summer fires let her magic flow freely, if she wanted to
partake in the wonderland before her she had to stifle her magic. Even now she
could feel it beneath her skin, ebbing and flowing within her. When she had
been a little girl it hadn’t been near as hard, though she was never on edge as
she was now. Her magical well had grown, and she felt as if she were constantly
on the verge of using it. Their lives were anything but calm, and being on
alert at all times had taken its toll on her and her court. The magic wielders
felt drained by the energy their magic was using, attached to their emotions it
rarely settled and was always building as if to attack or defend. Those without
magic were just as antsy, tired from the strain of simply surviving. That was
why when the fighting ceased for a bit and there was nothing to be done but
wait until the war resumed, it wasn’t hard to be convinced that they all needed
to get away from the still partially destroyed castle and the duties that
accompanied it. Aelin hated that when she thought of her home now she thought
of war and shackles, irons that she could never throw off. War, courtesans,
Dukes and Ladies, councils, meetings, plans, the list of her weights were
endless. Each one a link in the chain that bound her to her crown.
Aelin broke out of her reverie and scanned the area.
Straight up the slope, hidden amongst
the trees she could just make out Rowan’s form. Just as she was built for heat,
roaring flames, green grasses and rising golden hills, Rowan was made for this.
Lately she had begun to wonder if he belonged here more than she did. Cold
intensity, icy power, things that made shivers crawl down your spine. That was
Rowan. Seeing him now, it looked as if he had been born of the landscape. His silver
hair was long enough to fit back into a pony tail, the color fitting in yet
different than the blinding white of the snow around him. He was staring at her
now, and Aelin was struck mute by the picture. His skin, now pale from the lack
of sun, outlined against the black trees, strands of his silver hair lifting
slightly at a breeze surely of his own making, the green of his eyes standing
out from the snow yet blending into the needles of the pines. He studied her
for a moment before a wicked grin touched his features, and he moved with a
grace someone shouldn’t possess in deep snow; going further up the mountain
towards a cliff jetting out towards their hidden valley. Aelin could feel his
glee from where she stood. As she watched his back disappear, she briefly felt
a wind whip around her. Goose bumps raised on her arm as she caught his
familiar scent before the breeze followed him up the mountain. An icy caress
from her carranam.
Aelin’s sharp fae ears flicked as laugher lit up the
area. Turning away from Rowan’s now invisible figure, she moved hesitantly to
peer over the hill of the mountain. Below, just outside the cabins, Aedion,
Ren, Lysandra, Evangeline and Elide were clumsily making their way through the
snow. Aelin felt a moment of peace at the image, and stood still as she
observed their rare happiness. Barking rang out as Fleetfoot leaped besides
Evangeline, who was trying her best to walk in the ocean of snow while still flinging
snow balls at Lysandra. Lysandra was clearly taking advantage of her young
ward, shifting between a white wolf, a snowy owl, and herself. She flung herself at the almost teenaged girl,
before retreating into a tree, only to return as wolf that nipped at her heels.
The two of them didn’t get to spend much time together of late, as Lys was
constantly by Aelin’s side. Aelin valued her friendship more than all of her
gowns and jewels combined, without Lysandra’s companionship the halls of the
castle would have felt colder and more foreign than they already did.
Hearing the whistle of a sharp wind, Aelin looked
back up the mountain once more. Her own breath caught in her throat as she saw
Rowan had made it the cliffs edge. He stood with his arms lifted slightly away
from his sides, his eyes closed. Wind had caught up loose snow, it swirled in
all directions around him, waiting for his command. His face was turned skywards,
she could see his power lift his hair, the snow floating around him in twirls
and circles. He looked like a god come to life, as if though he had come down
from the heavens with the snow to rule in the winter. A hawk screeched in the
distance, his eyes opened, a small smile touching his mouth as if he had just
been told a secret. Aelin couldn’t imagine anyone looking freer than he did in that
moment. Looking at him made her feel restless and content, liberated yet even
more aware of her burdens. Her invisible chains tugged on her heart again, and
brought her elation back to her chest where it constricted her.
The unspoken thought of her burdens caused Aelin to
turn her gaze towards Ren, Aedion, and Elide with the usual flash of pain.
Terrasen’s children. Some of the only ones to have survived. She knew she wasn’t
responsible for their heart ache, but when people you love hurt and experience
loss, you have a way of feeling like you should have prevented it somehow. She
watched with a mixture of sadness, relief, and joy as the three of them
interacted. Elide, who had joined them only two weeks before, had the aura of a
person who maintained a sense of innocence despite extreme trials and pain. She
was attempting to get the other two to build a snow man, at least that’s what
Aelin assumed they were doing. In reality Elide was lumping snow together,
Aedion was preventing progress by teasing and “accidentally” knocking down any
of Elide’s work. Ren stood there, just staring at them skeptically as Elide and
Aedion tossed mocking words his way until he gave in with a smile and joined in
their light banter; though refusing to join in the snow man making. He always seemed
to insist on remaining aloof and distant from them all in small ways.
Aelin sucked in a shuttering breath. They looked so
happy. Actually care free for the first time since they were children really. Even
Ren, who was the most open about his bitterness and anger, had a lighter step
and was simply looking at the others with cynical curiosity rather than his
usual glare of malice.
If only it could remain this way. The war wasn’t
going well…but she guessed it could be worse. Though, it really could be going
better as well. It was hard not to look at it that way. Aelin glanced down back
to herself, and felt disappoint run down her body. About three feet in every
direction around her was cleared of snow. The rocks and grass beneath her feet
were brown and muddy. It seemed that the Terrasen snow didn’t agree with her
fae powers. This would be an adequate analogy for how her life was going she
She was so tired, but there was no end in sight.
Unless that end was a death by valg demons, in which case there was a high
possibility that would happen within the next year. Aelin sighed and tried to
calm the pulsing in her blood. She was always on alert, always strung out,
always preparing herself. She wanted to
be happy along with the rest of her court, but all she could feel were fleeting
feelings of joy before the dead weight in her chest brought her back to reality.
There was still so much to be done and so many were looking to her to
accomplish it. How could she lead a nation and win a war against worlds, when
she didn’t even feel at home in her own country? Her turquoise eyes fell again
to the mushy ground beneath her boots, and she was surprised to find those same
eyes filling with tears. She missed her parents more than anything. Her mother
always helped her play in the snow despite her heat, she knew how to quell the
fire within her. Now it just felt like she waiting to be burned from the inside
out, a loan coal in a land of ice.
A snap of wind raced past her and she immediately
looked up. Rowan had left the cliff side and was standing about 20 paces in
front of her. Wind whipped his hair and clothes, his eyes didn’t leave her
face. It was if he was peering into her soul, looking at her like she was the
only one left in the world. She knew he could feel and hear her thoughts even
from this distance. Aelin gulped and looked away, when she turned back her eyes
spoke. “Can I ever belong, ever be happy
again? With everything I lost? Everything I will probably end up losing?” Rowan cocked his head, his eyes searching.
“Fireheart…” She saw pain in his eyes. Every beat of Aelin’s
heart felt laced with needles and bruises.
Aelin released a shuddering breath when she felt
snow brush her feet. Looking down, she saw her patch of dirt had once again
been covered with snow. Moving snow. Furrowing her brow, she looked up at Rowan
to see he had moved even closer, his face lifted to the wind and his eyes to
her. Aelin was unprepared for the gust of wind that came from behind her,
rushing up from the depths of the valley below them. Her coat and her hair were
pulled skyward, and she gasped as she saw what Rowan’s wind took with it. It
flew to the trees and pulled every last snowflake from its branches, they took
into the sunrise like a million birds. Below, Aelin could hear the cries of the
others as the world around them filled with blustering snow. Aelin lost her
breath as she once again looked down at her court. She could barely make out
their shapes through the rain of silver. Evangeline and Lysandra ran with their
arms outstretched, the icy wind blowing thousands of snowflakes to their faces
and above their heads, an army of white from the heavens. Aedion had his mouth
open, laughter spilling out as he shoved Fleetfoot away. His eyes wide, he
turned to Elide who was stumbling awkwardly in a circle, unable to move very
far because of the deep snow and her club foot. Rushing forward, Aedion lifted
her by the pits of her arms, twirling her gently in a circle as she laughed and
squealed. Arms up lifted, her face skyward, she looked like she was embracing
the world. Ren stood silently, his hands open at his sides. He just started up
into the mountains, watching the patterns of snow fall and rise with the wind,
an unreadable expression on his face. When Elide and Evangeline squealed, Aelin
could have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth upturn.
The lump in Aelin’s throat grew and she slowly
turned away. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw so much pure joy in
one place. She startled when she saw Rowan had come over closer, she could
almost touch him. She gave him a small smile and gestured to the people below
them, “Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding coarse and strange in the cold,
harsh wind. Rowan just continued to move towards her, and the wind around them
changed. The closer he got, the warmer it became. Less biting, stiff, and cold,
rather more alive. The whirls of snow encased them, creating a cocoon of flakes
blocking them from the rest of the world. Aelin’s coat lifted around her waist,
her hair began to float in the air. Her golden splattered eyes watered, and
each breath felt new. The air around her seemed to scream with something akin
to electricity. She tried to withhold her magic as he moved closer, she could
feel it moving within her as her emotions soared to a crescendo.
Soon even the
rising sun was hidden by the wall of snow that spiraled around her and Rowan,
moved by his wind which was now mixed with a cold that sent shivers down her
spine and a heat that made her cheeks turn red. She should be astonished by
what was around her, but somehow she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. His
own had never left hers for even a second, and the green hues of his eyes were
now only a foot away, the fog of their breath mixing. She couldn’t read what
was in his eyes, not because it was hidden, but because it was so vast. She saw
hurt and pain that matched her own, but she also saw love and passion, manic
desire, and a something that almost willed her to understand. “You,” his soul screamed, “Are not alone”. He didn’t tell her to forget her fears, or
that they were unfounded or that she wasn’t allowed to dwell on them. No, it
was if he had walked into her terror and grabbed a hold of her, rooted her,
braced her. Took her emotions and ran them throw his heart like a sword,
feeling every painful heart beat and wished them gone with each matching beat
of his own.
Aelin’s skin was on fire, but it did not burn. She felt
every twitch of hair, every caress of wind, every snowflake that brushed her
cheeks. There were only inches between them now, and she moved to cup his face
but was stopped short. Her hand was encased in flame, her magic unknowingly
having unfolded when she felt her soul joined by another in the darkness that
surrounded her every day. She stared at her hand, and for a second was afraid
that it would melt the snow flying around her still. Yet Rowan’s wind held
fast, and it continued on around her. She looked up into his face as he joined
his hand in hers. The flame did not burn him, rather it looked to unthaw him as
the heat traveled up his arm and into his face. The paleness of his skin become
less sharp, a slight blush filling his cheeks. It was if her heat had melted
away the cold, dead, sharp exterior and revealed instead a living, gentle
intensity that for mere moments stopped her heart completely.
Her eyes widened as white flame flew between them,
so bright that it looked colorless. The snow reflected it back, glowing like
small orbs of light embracing and protecting them. The fire came up from the
earth and tenderly wrapped around them, binding them together in something that
she understood completely and yet not at all. Where her hand grasped his as his
soul clung to hers, she could feel his heart beat and the breath in his lungs.
Her self-blame and guilt melted from her and was chased away by his wind. A
sort of frantic contentment took its place. It wasn’t still or peaceful, but it
was fast and all powerful.
They remained still in their wall of magic, fire and
ice meeting together in a beautiful embrace. Neither one destroyed, remaining separate
yet together, both combining but each one not erased. Rowan’s forehead moved down to meet her own,
and something in her core purred and unfolded in a wave of relief she didn’t
know she needed. Tears fell from her face and hissed into her fire, steam being
whipped into the whirling cloud of glowing snow.
“Fireheart,” he whispered out loud, his voice a
shout in the void as his other arm came around to pull her close to him, and
she felt cold and hot at the same time. He bent his head lower but didn’t have
to go farther as she rushed up to meet him, their lips touching in a way that felt
as if it were the final step to a plan that was written into their beings. For
a few moments, as his kiss swept through her and she felt his cold breath fill
her mouth, it was if the universe paused. She felt his blood, his magic, his
hopes and dreams, his pain. She knew she would never be alone, if the darkness
came to overtake she would have his wind to hold her. She could fling herself
into another realm, and there he would be to fall with her into oblivion.
They broke away with a sigh and the cloud of snow
vanished to fall around them gently. A small candle of a flame was still
between them, tying them together, a visible sign of their bond. As Aelin
pulled back and looked into his face, a tingle of happiness ran through her.
She had almost forgotten what that felt like, happiness. She knew now…knew what
it truly felt like. She reached up and ran her hand down the tattoo on his
cheek, his eyes still searching her, trying hear her soul’s whispers. She never
thought she would know this, know this so much that there was no ounce of doubt
in her. The fire and wind had driven out all doubt, instead replacing it with a
single feeling that moved from her heart into her finger tips.
Feeling her emotion, his face changed to a question.
Aelin smiled through the pain, happiness intermingling with the fear and the
sadness, and all of it was overridden by this singular emotion. And she knew
that she could find small moments like this for the rest of her life, no matter
how short it may be. Moments where happiness and fear and anger weren’t at a
battle of wills, instead they embraced and worked together under one emotional
that moved with a power greater than all those feelings combined. Nothing felt forced, no nervousness clutched
her heart as she looked into the green of his soul and said in a clear voice
that range out in the silence like a bell, “I love you”.
Trumpet versus Flare, Ball gown versus Straight/Column/Sheath; A-line versus Mermaid, Backless wedding dress or Wedding dress with a back; waistlines, sleeves, no sleeves, halter neckline, cross-back neckline, or sweetheart neckline.
All the types of words running through your mind as your eyes strain themselves while staring at the laptop screen, scanning through multiple dresses. From the moment a young girl lays eyes on a wedding dress, they plan their wedding instantly, from the dress to the flowers, even to the man they will marry, so they imagine.
Your wedding day —like every other girl— was planned from the age of five, so you thought. You had intended to have an adorable wedding, not too big not to small, your dress would be white with lace, you’d have a long train, and beautiful dawn-tinted roses in your hand — You also had planned to be marrying a Prince— so you would actually be considered a princess.Of course, the ideas jotted down at the age of five is not how your wedding is going to be. You grew out of the pinkish roses phase, and the idea of dancing around barefoot on a beach on your wedding night with lit lanterns lighting up the night sky.
You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your mind focused on the many wedding dresses on the screen. To say the least, you feel as though you will never find the accurate dress that will suit everybody’s wants and apparent needs. Your wedding is not just your wedding.Of course, at the end of the day, you are the one getting married, but you are not the main one with an opinion. You have an overbearing mother who is determined to make sure she — you — get the wedding of her —your— dreams.
With great frustration you run your hand through your hair, letting out a heavy huff. Looking for the dress you will get married in is meant to be one of the best experiences, but it feels more like a chore than an experience you want to cherish. Of all the dresses you have been compelled to try on, there has not been one that has been approved or cherished as ‘the dress’ they have all been disregarded and shoved to the side.
“I looked at my tux today, it was nice, erm, I’m sure yeh’ll approve of it. Hopefully,” your soon to be husband cheerfully announces as he walks down the stairs, his eyes glued to his phone, “got the lads matchin’ ones, they gotta see ‘em when they get back.” He continues, sounding as if he quite appreciates his share of the wedding planning. Since you went wedding dress shopping for the day and he was being a sulky, whiny baby because his schedule was clear for the entire day, you encouraged him to find the tux he wanted and to get his groomsmen sorted out at the same time. It was a win-win situation, he gets something to do on his day off, and you get to put the burden on him for all the tuxedo problems.
“You’ll just have to go in and make sure the colour is correct to match whatever it is it needs to match, I dunno, somethin’ about somethin’ about flowers, and somethin’ else.” He continues not sounding too confident in what he is trying to explain, you can only assume it was a woman that helped with his tux and wants to make sure he picked the right colours.
“Okay, sounds good.” You hum, closing down another page of bridal dresses and scanning through another that was sent to you by your Maid Of Honor.
“Oh, I forgot, I got some call about china patterns or somethin’ and I am not sure what that is about, also got a call about cake testing, I hope I am a part of that.” He declares while walking into the kitchen, “Please tell me the cake isn’t going to be some cake full of berries or soemthin’ I once went to a wedding the cake was full of fruit and I don’t want that.” He babbles on, seeming rather enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, meanwhile you contemplate burying your face into the pillows and crawling under a rock and hiding from the world for a few days.
“No, the cake will not have fruit, yes you are a part of the testing, you are also the one in charge of the alcohol, hell, you can be in charge of the dress because I have had enough.” You mutter, tapping your fingers against the table out of frustration.
Niall turns to look at you, his eyes beaming over at you while you pout at the screen, wishing the dress would just pop out at you. “I thought yeh found a dress you liked?”
“I did, but mother-Zilla, is picky. I am meant to be the bridezilla and instead, we have mother-zilla taking over the damn show, she might as well be the one to get married. We are just the entourage.” You huff, your eyes leaving the screen and looking over at your soon to be husband who is standing rather cluelessly.
“I uhm, oh.. okay.. why don’t you just tell her to calm down?”
“If it was that easy I would have. Here, you pick a damn dress, I don’t even care.” You mumble, gesturing to the screen of dresses,
“I can’t do this.” You continue. You just want a nice dress that will satisfy you and everyone else, that is all.
“C'mon, just ignore her, show me the dress you liked.” he encourages, probably having no clue on what the hell he is meant to say in this situation, after all, this is the first time he has even had to look at wedding dresses.
“No, pick a dress. I can’t, I don’t want too. I am done.” You shake your head stubbornly, having no desire to pick a dress. Right now, you don’t even care if he picks the ugliest dress he could possibly find. “Screw it, why can’t we just secretly get married, just the two of us? No problems.” You question, the idea of a secret wedding suddenly sparking your interest.
With an adorable laugh, he graciously shoots down your idea, reminding you of all the times you have described to him in great detail what you want in your wedding.
“Fine, let’s see how good you are at wedding dress shopping. Strapless neckline? thin strapped neckline? tight fitted: sheath or raglan? loose fitted: kimono or bell sleeve?” The words roll off your tongue and he stares at you as if you have spoken a new language.
“I dunno what the fuck you just said, but I say a pretty white dress.” He smiles, causing you to roll your eyes.
What a typical answer. If only it was that simple and easy.
“Can you please, maybe consider the secret wedding? It would be cheaper, and you wouldn’t have to wear a penguin suit, as you like to call them.” You beam, trying to work your charm on him and coaxing him into agreeing to a sudden and private wedding for just the two of you, “We would still get the honeymoon, but I mean it would just be me and you, and probably a bouquet of flowers. We could get married on a beach, lake, river, anywhere, nothing fancy-” you begin, slowly getting carried away at the thought of a secret wedding that is extremely low key.
“No, you will regret it if I let you have a secret wedding. How about you let yeh mother pick a dress and then you pick a dress and you wear both of them, like one for the ceremony and one for the after party?” He suggests, sparking a decent idea that gives you and your mother both something that you both want. “But, if you do that, that means we get two cakes because who doesn’t want two cakes at their wedding?” He smiles cutely, lightening the mood as he closes the laptop screen. “Now come on, enough wedding planning for the day, let’s do somethin’ fun.”
“Golfing, c'mon.” He gently tugs at your arm, pulling you from the chair like an eager child excited to go to the park.
Request: *anon* maybe something with kg3??? where the reader doesn’t rly support what he’s doing with the colonies and such but they meet him at like a ball or smth and they’re like. super endeared but like also kinda mad at him but w/E– fluffy stuff and kissing and junk. only if you want to!!
Pronouns Used: She/Her
Writer’s Note: I kind of took my own spin on this and didn’t mention some of the stuff that you asked for (it was getting really long) so if you want a sequel to this to continue upon what you mentioned in your first ask, we can write that for you. I’m very sorry that it took so long to write; but I do hope that you like it! - Mod BJ
You’ve been to balls before, but nothing like this.
The room is stunning. It’s cavernous, and the sounds of the orchestra and laughter echo throughout the room, filling the large space with energy. Every guest’s attire is far more extravagant than anything you’ve seen before, and suddenly you feel a little underdressed. The incredible detail in every aspect of the ball just screams of wealth, and although you disapprove of the king’s spending habits, you can’t help but look forward to indulging yourself just this once.
Prince Jungkook was getting ready for the ball in his kingdom. He was at the coming age that he needs to find a suitable bride and become the next king before his father’s retirement. He really didn’t want attend the ball at all but since it was held for him and there was people already heading inside to the castle. He wants to retreat to his room but his royal adviser was keeping his eye on the prince. He was done with his outfit preparations and decided that he has no choice but attend to this boring party that was happening in his home. He climbed down the stairs and was greeted with an announcement from his father welcoming the guests.
Moments passed and he was getting more bored after each dance with a maiden and giving his thanks to each guest that was there. He quietly slipped away to the outside balcony to get some air to breath. As he leans against the balcony edge he starts to hum a song that was helping him relax until he was started by a pair of hands that grabbed and pulled him back. Jungkook turned and noticed that his 5 friends came to see him.
“Geez, guys. Give me a heart attack,” replied the prince.
“Hey it was Hoseok’s idea,” Yoongi laughed.
“At least he feels better now”, pointed out Hoseok.
“Thanks guys i kinda need that. Tonight is very boring and i cant wait for it to be over”, Jungkook tells his friends.
Jimin questions the prince, “I don’t blame you. It sounds very hard to find a bride. Especially if you have no idea what the girl is even like.
“Don’t remind me”, Jungkook pointed out.
All of the boys leaned against the rail of the balcony and stared to talk more about the prince’s future. Until one of them noticed that one of their friends is missing of the seven members. He looks around a noticed that Namjoon is missing.
“Does anyone know where is Namjoom? I don’t see him.” Taehyung asks is friends.
“He said that he gonna be late. I think he said that he had to do something before he got here”, Jin answered.
After he said that and mall carriage pulled up to the castle and all of the boys watched it as it came to a stop.
“That could be him,” said Jimin. They watched and saw their friend, and all agreed to go back the party to find him. The six boys all walk back in joking with each other.
Namjoon came out of the carriage and helped out a young lady wearing the most beautiful gown the boys have ever seen. She had a small tiara that was placed on her head. Along with her gown was a pair of two glass slippers on her feet that were a gift from her mother. The girl was so nervous that she was ready to turn back home.
“Are you sure this is alright? I feel so out of place. I really don’t belong here Namjoon”, questions Y/N.
“Are you kidding me? This is the one chance for you to go to the ball. I know you hate your step mother but she has no right to forbid you to tonight. Your father gave me the responsibility to look after you at all costs.There is no way you are going to miss this,” Namjoon tells Y/N. “Even though i can’t be with you all the time and that i’m always working in the castle as a assistant captain of the guard. You are like my sister and i want to give you the best while i’m still around. So lets enjoy tonight. I promise that you will be home before this night is over.”
“Isn’t the Prince a friend of yours? Is this safe for all of this? What if we get caught? What if stepmother catches me and—”
“OK, hold up girl. Just relax and bend the rules tonight,” he stops her at her questions and escorts her to the castle doors.
The doors open and relieved the inside if the castle covered with bright and elegant decorations. Y/N was in awe that she didn’t even noticed that the entire hall was staring at her. Namjoon tells her that everyone was staring at her and she brought herself back into reality and blushed. She was so embarrassed that she wanted to hid.
“This is so embarrassing? Can we go?”, asked Y/N.
“We just got here.Let me introduce you to my–” as he started to look for his friends the captain of the guards came up to the boy and asked him to help with the security. Namjoon frowned and look at Y/N with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, he tells her.
“It fine. Go do what you have to do. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t forget me. She gives him her answer and and kisses him on the cheek.
“I’ll hurry back”, he looks at her one more time and went to look at his work that was cut out for him.
Y/N looks around a sees that she is alone. As she walks though the ball room with her head down. She is asked by a young man to a dance. She nervously accepts and slowly looks up at the man. She is shocked by that man’s appearance and his identity. The man was the Prince Jungkook. She froze when she placed her hand in his and he lead her to the dance floor. He bows and she returns her to him. They started to dance and sway with the music. Y/n keeps hers eyes on the prince and he smirks and tries to have a conversation with her.
“I don’t think I ever met you before. Are you from a distance kingdom?, he asks her.
“No, actually. I live near by.” She answers him and tries to keep her nerves in control.
“Oh, really? To be honest you are the most beautiful maiden i have seen tonight. No one has caught my attention until you came through the doors.
“Is that a pick up line? Because it was pretty straight forward.”
Jungkook laughed at her response. He was very smitten by her. “If it was. I hoped it worked.”
She giggled again. “It certainly did.
They were so lost in their own world that they forgot about the rest of the guests. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other and ignored the entire world. Lampoon came back into the room and he stared to look for Y/N. He keeps turning his head back and forth until he see his two friends dancing in the center of the room.
“Well. I didn’t see that one coming.” Namjoon smiles, crosses his arms on his chest and watch his two best friends enjoying their night. He was brought back when an arm touched his. It was Jin. He looks at his friends and exchanges greetings with them.
“Where have you been? You are late man?”, asked Yoongi.
Namjoon laughs. “I had some things to attend to before and when I got here.” He turns back to his focus on the dance floor. But noticed that the two love birds were gone. “Where did they go?”, he wondered.
“Man you work non stop,” Hosoke gave his thought out loud. “Can never catch a break. Even at a party.”
“I accepted this job and it is my responsibility to do this.” All the men laughed and headed towards to a table full of drinks and food. As they got there they heard three women complaining very loudly.
“I cant believe he didn’t even look at me. I wore this dress especially for him. This is terrible,” said one jealous girl.
“Why did he pick her out of all people? He should be with me not her!” The other cried out her anger.
“Mind yourself girls. There is still time that you can get his attention. We just need to work harder,” said their mother. “You need to get his attention at all costs. Once he takes his eyes of that tramp you run in and soak all of his attention.”
Namjoon recognized the voices. It was Y/N’s stepmother and her daughters. They made his body very stiff that he knew he had to find Y/N before her stepmother sees her. He tells his friends that he need to go make his rounds once more. He excuses himself and began to look for his childhood friend.
Jungkook lead Y/N to the outside fountain of the royal garden. He lets go of her hand and turns to hides his blush from her. She turns to from her blush and shyness. He was very drawn to this maiden that he felt like he might have found the girl of his dreams. He is willing to have her become his if she is willing to be with him. He turned back to her and saw her look very beautiful form the moon light reflecting on her and her eyes. He walked towards her very slowly and grabs her hands and kissed both of them.
“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I never been drawn to anyone like this at all. I cant hold myself back. You are like a dream. And if this were a dream i don’t ever want to wake up at all,” the prince confessed.
“Neither do I. This is just like a fairy tale. I also never met anyone who makes my heart beat very quickly. Especially when is next to me,” Y/N replied to the prince.
They slowly brought their lips very close and they finally reached to each other. During the kiss Namjoon watched from afar and smiled. He walks backwards to give his friends some privacy. As the two new lovers released their lips for air they looked at each other with darling eyes of love. They stayed in garden dancing to the music from the ball and gazing in each others eyes. The prince was about to open his mouth to ask the girl a question the a loud bell announced the time. It was midnight and the girl’s face changed into a emotion of horror.
“I have to go. I’m sorry,” Y/N picked up her dress and rushed towards the doors that lead to the ball room.
“Wait! Why? Why you must leave?”, questioned the prince. He chased after the girl trying to keep up with her. “I don’t know your name.”
As he saw her already inside the ballroom he was blocked by the stepsister and several other female guest. They all gathered around him making it very difficult to look for his new love. He tried to excuse himself but they only crowded around him even more. Making him loose his view of the mystery girl.
Y/N ran and found Namjoon by himself. “I have to go! It’s already midnight!” She grabs his hand and they leave to the nearest door with the carriage waiting for them. They ran as fast as they can and Y/N loses her slipper. Namjoon tries to go back for it but Y/N tells him that they don’t have time at all to go get it. The reach to the carriage and he helps her get inside and had the horses rush home as soon as possible.
Jungkook finally escaped form the other girls and turns his head to see his mystery girl. He doesn’t see her and realized it was to late. She was gone. He walks back towards his entrance and notices a glass slipper before him. He picks it up and remembers that his girl was wearing it. He vows that he will find even if doesn’t. He enters back into the castle and finds his friends. He asks them to come into his study for a private meeting. He tells them the news that he found the girl that he wants to marry.
“Congratulations, Your Highness,” Jin is the first one welcome the news. “Where is the lucky girl?”
“She got away. All i have from her is this,” He answers and shows the boys the crystal heel. “I’ll find her. Even if every woman has to try it.”
“That is going to take forever,” Hosoke mentioned. “Are you sure you are willing to do this?
“I am. I never felt this way towards any one at all before. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“What her name?” asked Taehyung.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask her. We were so caught up with each other that i forgot to ask her.
“Well i can say that this will take a long time to find the girl, but sign me up”, Jimin gave his agreement to find the girl. The rest of the men agreed to this quest.
The prince thanks his friends and then he realized that one of his 6 friends was missing. Where’s Namjoon? I wanted him to hear the news.
As soon Y/N reached back to her home and her small room in the kitchen. Namjoon helped her catch her breath and they were both thankful that the step-family wasn’t there before them. They both looked at each other and stared to laugh at their most daring night against time. Y/N decided to change and Namjoom helped her with the back buttons and stepped out of the for her from her dress. As soon she was back in her normal attire she had her friend comeback in. She his the dress, tiara, and the remaining shoe in a box below the wooden floor out of sight from the family. She made him some tea and they began to talk about the evening. Namjoon got brave and asked her about her moment with the prince. As soon she heard him her face grew very red. He smiled and asks her is she going to see him again.
“I’m not sure. We are from different worlds and he belongs with a princess not me” confessed her thoughts about her encounter with the prince.
“Are you kidding me? I been guarding that man for a very long time and became very acquainted with him and i never seen him have that expression to anyone at all. I he didn’t kiss you because he is not in love with you than there is something wrong with the both of you” Namjoon gave her his complete honest thoughts about this new relationship. He wants the best for them both and is happy and approves the idea of this relationship.
“Your right. I understand”, Y/N agrees with her friend. “But how do i tell him though. He probably wont remember me with out the dress and look like a princess.”
“We will find a way. I don’t know yet but we will. I’ll think of something. i’m sorry that i couldn’t get your slipper. I’ll see if i can find it when i return back there.” The man finishes his tea.
“it’s fine. If you do find it just keep it hidden until i see you again. there is no worry.”
Namjoom got up and ready to leave to the castle once again.He hugs Y/N and bid her good night. As soon he was gone a few moment later her stepmother and the stepsisters came in to the house demanding for Y/N. Y/N rushed to help them get out of their evening dresses and into bed. They bragged and lied about their time at the ball and that the prince danced with them.Y/n stayed quiet and hummed a romantic tune. As soon women were in their rooms Y/n went to her small room and replayed the memory of the night. She smiled and wished to her self to see the prince one more time.
Namjoon got back to the castle and went to rest in his quarters with the rest of the guards.As he entered a the adviser welcomed him back and informed him to see the prince in the royal study. He walks towards the study wondering what his friends might need form him. He opened the door and sees all of his friends were in there discussing about a plan.
“What is going on?, he asked.
They all grin and Jin breaks the silence.
“Princey boy believes he met the right girl tonight.”
“Really? That’s great,” Namjoon smiles and remembers what he seen earlier and how Y/n reacted when he asked her. “Any idea what her name is?”
“That’s the major problem right now. He didn’t even ask her,” Taehyung answered.
“I was about to. Before i even got the chance she ran and disappeared.” The prince gave his answer and looked down in his hands with the only clue that he has of her.
Namjoon follows the prince’s head and notices the familiar object. It was Y/N’s missing slipper. I wanted to tell his friend the who the owner of it until the door of the study was busted open. The King’s grand duke came in telling the prince that the king request to see him and his friends in the throne room. All of the boys departed the room and followed the duke. As they walked though the halls they noticed the ball was over and the servants were almost done cleaning the room. The men reached the throne room and made their respected bow the king. Jungkook is the first one up to see his father and the rest followed suite.
“My son. I hoped you had a nice time at the ball. Have you found a suitable bride from it all?” the king asks his son.
“I found a girl that i was attracted to, father. She might be the one. If she is willing to have me. This is the only clue i have of her. I request that you let me look for her”, the prince informs his father about his night and his quest he desires.
The king smiles and looks at his son. He get off from his throne and walks to his him. “Your mother would be very proud of you. She would be very proud that you are willing to find someone that will love you.” The kings hugs his son and looks at the prince’s friends. “I hope you boys are going along with him because he is going to need his friends.”
The six men looked back at eh king a smiled. “There is no way we would let him go alone,” said Yoongi.
HI it is Admin DJ. I wanted to say thank you for reading my first sceanrio “Heaven’s Light with over a 50 notes of reblogs and likes. I’m sorry im not really active but i’m trying as much as i can. I hope you enjoy this one as well. There will be a second part soon. Also i’m willing to do requests if intrested.
Dinner in Asgard was an extremely rare occurrence. However, once Frigga had heard one of her sons having a lady in his presence, she was quick to persuade Odin to let her visit, as she may of been the new queen of Asgard.
You both arrived that evening, you being drunk in by the beautiful views of Asgard, so much that Thor had to take you though the City by foot to see everything, as well as supporting you so you didn’t crash into anything. When almost at the Castle, you came in contact with one of Thor’s old friends, one who appeared to be particularly good looking. Thor did not miss the wink he sent you, as he introduced you. When he reached out to kiss your hand, Thor took it, saying you would be late.
He took you through the entrance of the Castle, keeping a firm grip on your hand. After a moment, you tried to pull out of his strong grasp, trying to string a sentence together in front of him.
“Thor, what’s wrong?” You say, making him loose concentration for a moment, pulling out of his grasp. The god sighs, walking towards you, holding both your small hands in his larger ones.
“I do not wish for you to fall for anyone but me. I have very strong feelings towards you, Lady (Y/N.)” He sighs, resting his head on top of yours. You giggled slightly, knowing his jealousy wouldn’t make you love him any less.
Steve Rogers -
You and Steve had gone out dancing. Not at a club, as you would usually go with Natasha, but instead, Steve had choose to take you to a ball dancing type place, knowing he would be able to teach you something, instead of you teaching him.
Both of you were having a really good time, you wearing a long ball gown, him wearing a very strapping suit. The night was full of giggles and laughter, the occasional stepping on a foot. Until, the band announced it was time for a dance with someone you had not attended with. Rolling your eyes, you let off Steve with another girl, deciding your best attempt would be to sit this one out, until a young man came up to you, offering a dance.
From where he was, Steve could see you giggling to this man’s comments, his hands trailing a little further than your waist. Sightly annoyed, he bade goodbye to his dance partner, coming over to take you for another dance. You couldn’t help but see the slightly cross lines on his face. Knowing what he would be upset about, you leaned forward, kissing his lips gently.
“There’s no point getting jealous, remember? I love you.” You murmur to him. Smiling, he pulls you into a hug, still swaying gently, knowing with some confidence you would never leave him.
Tony Stark -
As the girlfriend of Tony, meetings with other Billionaires and ‘Business Boys’ was not a rare occurrence. On this particular night in question, you were having dinner with several rich entrepreneurs, one of which was extremely good looking.
Throughout the night, you were constantly talking to him, laughing at many of the jokes he made, from his many travels. What you never noticed, was Tony lingering, not listening to the conversation he was meant to be having, instead, watching the man, who was reaching out to touch your arm. He distinctly heard him saying he’d love to take you on one of his travels one day. That, was when Tony broke. He sighed, walking over to you, and murmuring for you to follow him. Rolling your eyes, you did so, following him into the hallway.
“What was that about?” He said, folding his arms, and raising his eyebrows. You know not to take him too serious, and begin to giggle at his response, mocking his raised eyebrows.
“Why? Your jealous?” You smirk, leaning your arms by your side. Tony growls, walking towards you, pressing you against the wall in a heated kiss, his hands grasping the sides of your face. When he eventually pulls away, he murmurs in a low voice.
“Your mine. Don’t forget it.”
Bruce Banner -
Tony had recently asked you down to the Workshop, to help him work on his suits. Seeing as you were one of the smartest, residing in the Tower, and this was Tony Stark, you couldn’t refuse.
Bruce Banner, on the other hand, was starting to get cross, with how close you were both growing. You began to constantly come back from the Workshop, later than you said, and he began to fear the worst. If you and Tony were kissing behind his back, it would be better to say.
You saw him lying in bed one day, wide awake. Sighing, you came to join him, lying next to him, but using one of his arms to wrap around yourself. He raised his eyebrows, before you rested one of your hands on his chest, beginning to talk to him for a while.
“Y'know, just because I talk to Tony, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” You whisper, resting your head on his chest. His soft heartbeats could be heard, as he gently leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“Sorry…” He murmured, keeping his grip tighter on you. The jealous feeling still lingered in him, but your reassurance seemed to cure him carefully.
“What were you doing?” Loki asked, as you came into Stark Tower, shopping bags in one hand, a drink in the other. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing these endless questions were inevitable.
Ever since you had been flirted at, when out with your boyfriend, Loki, he had been unusually sensitive and protective of where you were going, who with, and what time you would be back. To put it in simpler terms, he was getting jealous, that you were spending more time with other people, and not with him. You carefully stepped forward to the God, placing your hands on his chest, before looking down to where you had placed them.
“If there is a heart in here, which I hope their is, then it should know that I love you, and only you.” Taking a long sigh, you leaned up, pressing your lips to Loki, in a soft form of comfort. After pulling away carefully, he raised his eyebrows, before leaning back in, kissing your lips more firmly.
“I might need more convincing.” He murmurs, resting his forehead on yours.
"You are too old, children," said Aslan, "and you must begin to come close to your own world now." – The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Ok let’s talk about the ending of the Chronicles of Narnia.
Let’s talk about the all-round, screwed-up mess of a conclusion for the
Pevensie children. A conclusion that actually had so much potential but was never
given enough focus to even touch the surface
of what the deaths of these children meant.
Let’s talk about how The Last Battle ends with the Pevensie’s
returning to Narnia forever. They don’t care
that they’ve died in our world because they get to stay in Narnia. Narnia. Forever. And from their happiness it’s
clear that Narnia is all they’ve wanted. Narnia and home and their lives there.
That’s all. That’s it.
Except…Except Aslan told
them to return to this world. Hell, more than told them. He ripped them out of
Narnia by force and thrust them back through the wardrobe, while their other grown-up
lives fell away and they were left clinging to memories in their shaking hands
because they had nothing else left.
So these shell-shocked, grieving
children-who-were-not-children desperately reassembled the remains of their old
lives. With crying. With swearing. With nightmares and loneliness and despair. Until
Aslan yanked them back to Narnia again to show them their fallen, broken land.
Show them hollowed pieces of their old palace. He didn’t even tell them what
had happened to Narnia. He made them figure out alone – slowly and torturously –
that the ruins they stood in were their old home. That every one of their friends was dead. That everything they’d built
and fought for and bled for and achieved was gone.
Then Aslan exiles these children back to “That other place.
England.” again and explicitly tells them they’re too old for Narnia now and they need to find him in their own world. He tells them not to cling to Narnia, not to remain lost in the past but make
their own lives in our world. They’re staying here permanently, here’s where they belong and will grow up for good.
But a couple of years after Lucy and Edmund place that
framed picture back on the wall, Aslan kills them and returns them to Narnia forever.
Imagine it. Just for a minute. Imagine these 4 children
recovering from their loss. Years of acclimatizing to
this world. Years of adjusting to being adults in children’s bodies. Years to
figure out their place here. (If there’s a place for them here). Years to carve out these lives Aslan so blithely
told them to build. Maybe they’d just reached the point where they were able to put down roots. When their peers
were catching up with them. When their minds of adults, minds of
twenty-something, almost, almost matched
And then the lion took it all away, and took them back to the
place they never asked to leave in the
Screw you Aslan. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to
shuttle them between worlds, rip away one life, order them to build another,
then destroy that one too. If you really wanted the Pevensie children to live
in our world –properly live – then you
wouldn’t have destroyed those lives as they finally began.
And of course you have Susan. Susan the one Pevensie who
truly completely builds a life in our world. Who goes to parties and makes friends and travels and dates and talks of this world as
something permanent. In Narnia she
was the queen who held court at Cair Paravel, seeing suitors from every land. In England she tries to find that. She wears nylon and lipstick because gowns
and crowns aren’t sold in London shops. She flirts with young men because there
are no princes for a normal girl. She goes to parties because there aren’t any balls
in living rooms.
She has a life. The others may have thought it shallow and
frivolous, but she built it. Unlike her
siblings – talking of Narnia, remembering Narnia, dreaming of Narnia – she becomes
part of this world again.
Just like Aslan told her to.
And yes Aslan didn’t just
tell her to build a new life. He told her to find him again, seek him out
in England as she knew him in Narnia. Susan Pevensie doesn’t do that.
But then, why should she? Aslan gave her a life and ripped
it away. Then he showed her everything she lost. (That her kingdom had fallen, that
her palace was rotting stone, that her friends were gone) He told her to make
So she did.
But she won’t depend on him again. Why should she build
her new life around a force that can never
be trusted? Why should Aslan be the foundation of her world when he can pull
out from under her at any hour? Why should she make the same mistake
(And she’s right, because her siblings build their lives
around Aslan and look where it gets them – bodies broken across the train-tracks;
skin mutilated beyond recognition, never allowed to live the lives Aslan told
And Susan suffers for that decision. Oh god does she suffer.
Identifying the bodies of her brothers and sister and parents and cousin and
friends? Living utterly alone in the world? That
is suffering. It would have been easier not
to build a new life. To be like her siblings and keep Aslan as the centre
of her world. To have just waited to go return to Narnia.
But she didn’t. Because Aslan’s instructions never made
sense and the best the Pevensies could do was guess. Do we rebuild or are we meant
to mourn Narnia forever? Susan Pevensie did the best with what orders she
had. And she chose wrong.
And because of that she didn’t fit into Aslan’s design. She
didn’t return to her old world and obediently but half-heartedly rebuild a new
life, always clinging to him and to Narnia so when she lost that new life too
it didn’t matter because it wasn’t worth
anything anyway. No. She rebuilt – properly, completely, without the great
lion – and she couldn’t be dragged back anymore.
And she suffered for that but you know what? Susan Pevensie
had a life. She had a world. She wasn’t cut short before she grew up. (Again.) She
had the life her siblings never got. And the crappiest thing of all is Aslan
was the one who told her to build that life in the first place.
Berthe Morisot’s family (53) Paule, model and pupil Paule Gobillard was the eldest daughter of
Théodore Gobillard and Yves Morisot, Berthes eldest sister. From time to time Paule sat for her aunt. but Paule too aspired to become a painter. Morisot taught her to paint and once in a while even the great Renoir coached.
Berthe Morisot, Jeune fille avec un chien (Young Girl with a Dog), 1887. Oil on canvas, 78,8 x 60,1 cm. Armand Hammer Museum of Art, Los Angeles Berthe Morisot, Portrait de (of) Paule Gobillard, 1884. Oil on canvas, 73 x 60 cm. Private collection Berthe Morisot, Paule Gobillard en robe de bal (Paule Gobillard in her Ball Gown), 1887. Oil on canvas, 73 x 60 cm. Private collection Berthe Morisot, Paule Gobillard dessinant (Paule Gobillard Drawing), 1886. Pastel on canvas, 73 x 60 cm. Private collection
Request: Omg I got this idea where the reader is a princess and Loki sees her at a fancy event and starts courting her. But she doesn’t know who he is.
A/N - Sorry for the abrupt ending, I’ve been finding it hard to make time to write. Hopefully I’ll sort out a schedule for myself soon, lots of love- Jamie <3
Loki’s green eyes danced around the ballroom with distaste, he’d rather be anywhere than here, even with those damned Avengers. Grunting out a sigh Loki leaned on the bar and ordered another drink, soon enough he’d leave the event; the only reason he even attended was because Frigga had begged him. Out of the corner of his viridescent eyes Loki noticed a girl eye him up, ‘Not another’, he thought grumpily.
As the girl finally approached him the god of mischief downed the rest of his drink, “I’m not interested”, he growled turning around and rushing off. Unfortunately he didn’t look where he was going before hand, when he noticed the young lady in the beautiful ball gown, it was too late.
The glass of wine you were clutching in your hand was sent flying into your expensive dress, the cold liquid seeped further into the material making you gasp. The two guards at your side leapt into action, they drew their weapons and pointed them at Loki who merely sneered disdain. You waited for the man to offer you an apology but he remained silent, “Well?”, you asked him, in hopes that it would prompt a response from him.
“You should’ve moved out of the way”, Loki stated simply. At this remark the guards moved closer to the god but with a slight wave of your hand, they stopped and their weapons were concealed. “I beg your pardon?”, you questioned him once again.
A mischievous smirk ruptured across his face, “You are pardoned”.
A genuine smile formed on your face, although it was only small it was definitely present, he was the first male of the evening to speak to you in such a manner.
“You should let us arrest him for giving such disrespect to you, your highness”, one of your guards spoke loudly, his hand gripped on the hilt of his sword. At the mention of the royal title, Loki’s ears pricked. “Who are you?”, you politely said.
“I am Loki of Asgard”, the dark-haired man declared, “And you are?”, he finished his sentence with a charming smile, only now taking in your beauty. “My name is Princess (Y/N), First of Her Name”, you curtsied to the man. Loki reached out slowly, he let his hand dangle in the air before you placed yours into his large, cold palm, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance princess”, he bowed whilst kissing your hand. You giggled as he rose, “You may call me (Y/N), Loki”.
“I am sorry for ruining you dress (Y/N)”, he apologised, you smiled in return. “It’s alright, that was the most interesting thing to happen tonight”, you brushed at the wine stain on your dress. “I think meeting me will be”, Loki grinned making you laugh. “We will see”, you replied. Loki’s green eyes looked around the room observantly and an idea sprang to his mind, “Would you care to dance?”.
Little did you know that accepting Loki’s small invitation would eventually lead to greater things…
It was as though all his nervousness had been transferred across the table. Your entire body is on fire but, only this time, not from his gaze. You know he is giving you all the power, and you hate it. If you deny him, Aria will probably hate you for the rest of your life. You just can’t trust yourself around her father. “Is not as easy as it sounds, Taron.”
Summary: You and Taron have been divorced for four years, but your daughter’s desire to spend a week with the two of you brings up a number of unresolved issues.
Lost Queens is an accessory boutique designed to make women feel like royalty while promoting sisterhood. We also present examples of Black excellence and display the strength, magic and divinity of women through beautiful photo stories.
Every month, we release unique collections with captivating pieces named after Black women we call Muses, such as Angela Davis, Eartha Kitt and Maya Angelou, to name a few. These women have inspired us at one point in our lives and it is our hope that the wearer can take some of that energy and go out into their daily lives feeling beautiful. Our motto is that every woman should feel powerful beyond measure and we take great care to project this message through our social media and branding.
The best part about us is that we are engaged in our community and we take special care to give back. Proceeds from each collection benefit social issues such as domestic violence, police brutality and currently helping a college student complete their degree abroad.
For this photo story below, Lost Queens studied pages of an incredible book called “Vintage Black Glamour” by Nichelle Gainer. The book curated tons of photographs featuring both known and underrepresented classic celebrities and public figures celebrating their excellence and it simply captivated us. With Women’s History Month this month, we thought it would be appropriate to honor the Queens that have gone before us.
The founder dollfaced-killa really strived to put together a concept that bridged the gap between that time period and today. We wanted to celebrate classic, timeless beauty but in a way that was relevant to our life stories. And honey, we’re diverse, young and hot. We want to celebrate our bodies and our beauty. We’re not really rocking ball gowns on a Tuesday afternoon.
i’ve been watching loads of history documentaries today - don’t ask why and i got the inspiration to write this. it’s meant to be set in a patriarchal era so apologies for the slightly demeaning events that take place. and yep, val and maks are meant to be nonidentical twins in this piece