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ann-writes-universes · 3 months

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The Jeweler (AzrielxReader)

A/N: Missed you guys <3 Not my best but its cutie.

EDIT (Jan 23.2024): Forgot to add the tag list, srry guys :,) <33333

W.C: 1.3k

Warnings: Slight mentions of smut. Angst?

Winter in Velaris was truly a marvel. As the solstice approached decorations and lights littered the buildings of The Rainbow, and the streets bustled with life as city goers made last minute preparations.

From the frost coated glass of your apartment you watched as families scurried out of the cold, and lonesome travelers slowed by shop windows to take a peek inside. From its place on the wall your clock struck seven and you tore your eyes away from the scene below. If you listened closely enough you could hear as the jeweler, Mr. Krazinski, downstairs, closed up shop for the evening and began to head home for the weekend. As he went about his Friday evening routine- you too began your own. The tea you had been nursing (now cold) was discarded and a bath was drawn full of lavender and other frilly things an herbalist nymph had convinced you to buy earlier in the day. In no time, the pale blue tiles of your bathroom were slick and steam was rolling out from beneath the door- spilling into your hall. In the living room you lit candles, cedar and pine. The fae lights bobbing on your wall were extinguished, only the crackling fireplace radiated light now. The clock struck eight then, and you moseyed towards the bath. You’d take your time there- worship yourself and make sure every inch was perfect. He’d be there by eleven after all. By the time the clock struck nine the bath had drained, bits of lavender and other botanicals slowly drying to the bottom of your tub. You had pulled out your fineries. Lotions, perfumes, wine. At ten you were dressed, a deep emerald number- frilled with lace. Here was the winter solstice tree, lit for the occasion and you standing before it. With only half an hour left you downed your glass of wine, curled up in a chair facing the door. Eleven strikes and the locks begin to turn. Within moments your small doorframe is crowded by seven feet of illyrian muscle and wing. He’s dressed simply this week- dark trousers and a thick cable knit sweater. His wings are pulled tight, remnants

of snow melting off their taloned tips.

“Right on time, Shadowsinger.” You purred, trailing the rim of your glass with your scarlet red finger tip. He hummed his reply, stepping into the threshold of your home and firmly relocking the door behind him- a habit he had when he stayed here. You had always found it quite charming- him locking the door as if the most dangerous creature in Velaris would not be curled up in your sheets within the hour.

“Am I ever late, Jeweler?”

You audibly chuckled then,a noise that had a smile tugging at the Illyiran’s lips as he settled into the couch. Jeweler was a name he had been fondly calling you for years now, ever since he found out where you resided.

“I suppose not.”

He was looking at you then, dragging his eyes back and forth across your frame and the bits of exposed skin. If you had been naive you would have thought it was the surmounting heat of the fire making him shift in his seat. But naive you were not. You placed your wine glass on the floor as you stood and sauntered over to where he sat. Azriel placed his hands on your hips and with one firm tug you were in his lap. He chuckled as you stumbled forward- a flailing thing compared to the elegance with once you just moved. Strong arms enveloped you and the room around you seemed to fade. The troubles of the week melted away as the shadowsinger kissed his way down your neck, across your collar, and down, down, down…

You had lived a long time and experienced many things but the way Azriel made you feel was different than anything you had encountered before. With a stroke of his fingers he had you writhing and moaning gutturally, falling blissfully further away from the world around you. By the time the two of you were spent, the fire had reduced itself to cinders in the hearth. Outside- a blizzard was well into forming, snow pushing its way past the glamors which kept Velaris safe from any real damage.

You lay splayed across the rug before the fire- an afghan he had grabbed slung across your forms. Above your heads, strong cedar beams supported the ceiling. If you squinted, spiders had made homes in the corners and were scurrying dutifully across the wood.

“Sometimes I think about staying here for good.” Azriel mumbled from beside you, his voice halting the soft circles he had been tracing into the bare skin of your side. You let out an airy chuckle at his statement and turned your head to face him.

“So why don’t you?” A question you knew the answer too. One he knew the answer too as well.

He seemed to mull over your words for a moment anyhow before stating, “Because Jeweler, if I saw you everyday- im afraid it would change my life.”

You stared at him for a moment, holding his hardened gaze. He seemed serious- deathly so. But he was not, and you knew that much. Keeping the thought at hand you laughed once more and teasingly shoved at his bare chest as you stood from the floor.

“Of course it would, Shadowsinger. You would be reminded of Mr. Krazinski’s sales everyday instead of every Friday evening.”

Azriel audibly groaned as you pranced towards the bathroom to fetch a robe. When you returned to the living room he was tugging on his pants.

“Why dont you let me take you out to eat next week?” Azriel offered as he slipped his sweater back on. A boot following not far behind it. Leaning in the doorframe of the hallway you smiled tightly but only offered him a shrug.

“You know where I stand on dates, Azriel.”

“Then don't call it a date.” He shot, frustrated that you would not cave.

From across the room you searched his eyes, tried desperately to find something that would make you change your mind- and you… couldn't. You see, you knew who Azriel was. You had known him for the past two decades- and your bed had seen him through some very tumultuous parts of his life. Several times over the years he had tried to take it further than pleasure, but your answer had always been no. There was no denying he was an attractive male, witty, incredible in bed, and even charming when he chose to be- but most of all he was the Spymaster of Rhysand’s Court. A master of deception and torture. You lived above a jeweler, taught nighttime pottery classes, and drank chai tea. His was not a life you could keep up with. And yours was one he would tire of quickly. To go on a date with Azriel would be to open a door that you were not sure you could step through- terrified of what lay on the other side.

“Im Sorry, Azriel. You know I-” Before you could finish he smiled tightly and nodded.

“You cant. I know.” He tugged his jacket on as he spoke and headed towards the door. He did not say goodbye as he left, merely shut the door and locked it behind him. Listening to him clunk down the tiny staircase ached every week- but this one especially so. Yet again he had confronted you with a reality you could very well possess but simply could not yet face. Flopping down onto your couch you poured the last of your long forgotten wine and stared as the liquid swirled in your glass.

He would return next week- inevitably to ask you out yet again. And maybe it was the last of the wine souring your brain as you tossed it back- but as you curled into your bed that night, you thought that maybe next week- just maybe… you would say yes.

TAGS:

@brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @younxii @momlo @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @highladyofillyria @crimsonandwhiteprincess @purplevitagen @isthataknuck

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atelierlili · 21 days

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In-Panem/Not Reaped Everlark AUs

Got asked to give some fanfic recommendations for In-Panem/Not Reaped Everlark AUs so here we are. Most of them (if not all of them) are gonna be fluffy and happy tbh because i can't take my pookies being hurt ):

Completed:

A New Path (138k words) by Endlessnightlock

The day after aging out of the Reaping, Katniss crosses paths with Peeta. She thanks him for the bread and to her surprise, a tentative friendship begins.

One of my favourites. I love the direction the author took with this story. Always made me want more!

Go Slow, Peeta (20k words) by Oakfarmer

The era of the Hunger Games has come to an end. How Everlark slowly happened anyway.

This was the one that started it all for me. Short, simple and to the point! A classic in my opinion.

Nothing Owed for a Gift (10k words) by orphaned account

Lately, Merchants have taken to flirting with unwitting Seam folk as a joke, sometimes going so far as to ask them out on a date. I've even heard of a couple instances of a Merchant asking someone from the Seam to marry them, and then laughing hysterically when the poor recipient says 'yes'. So, when Peeta Mellark approaches me after the reaping, red with nerves and pushing his lips together as if he's trying very hard not to do something like laugh, I'm immediately wary. Peeta can't possibly be asking me to marry him for real. ... right?

Urgh. Literally one of my favourite one-shots.

Inevitability (44k words) by Xerxia

What if? What if Peeta and Prim hadn't been reaped?

Definitely not the fluffiest fics in the list, but Katniss absolutely SHINES here. And Peeta stays very true to his character as well. Absolutely worth the read.

It Takes A District (55k words) by MTK4FUN

Thinking her mother is dying, Katniss Everdeen marries Peeta Mellark to keep her sister out of the Community Home.

I love this fic. I don't know what it is, but there's something about it that makes it standout on its own.

Katniss Everdeen Is Not A Stalker (241k words) by MegaAuLover

Katniss as a little problem, she can't stop looking through Peeta's window, trying to find a way to pay her boy with the bread back but as time goes on she realizes she wants more. But there is a problem the District is flooded with Peacekeepers and everyone faces danger as the Capitol tightens its reigns on the district. Can love bloom in the middle of adversity? Or will it shrivel in the face of surmounting danger?

This is the one. Easily one of the bestest AUs imo. Very long read- but I will be naming my first born after the squirrel. The Everlark relationship here is A+++.

Incomplete/Ongoing:

( I know its weird to recommend incomplete fics, some these ones are legitimately my favourite fics and think are still worth the read.)

Cavedweller (79k words) by Jennajuicebox (last update: 2021-01-25)

Her mother once told her she was brave. A word Katniss wouldn't have chosen for herself. Brave implies that you run headlong into the scary unknown. Brave implies you face the things that want you dead. It dredges up thoughts of conquering armies and swords raised over head. Katniss isn't brave. As much as she would never admit it to herself she is scared out of her wits. She is staring into a gaping chasm, waiting for it to swallow her whole.

I love AUs that explore Katniss otherside of the family so much. As always, the Everlark development here is absolutely heartwarming and delicious. 10/10

On the Threshold ( 97k words) by ghtlovesthg (last update: 2020-06-26)

Nineteen and free from the Reapings forever, Katniss finds a token on her doorstep commemorating her passage over the threshold of adulthood. Discovering the identity of the sender will start Katniss on a road that leads toward life's other milestones.

This is exactly how I envisioned Everlark would get together had it not been for the Reapings. So so so so good. There is just enough here to be satisfied that the fic is unfinished ; w;

hope you find something you like! I always have more if you want more to sink your teeth into <3 Happy readings!

@heartforeyes @the-tiny-fangirl

#everlark #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #these are just a few I have sitting around in my bookmarks.#I know I have a few that I haven't added because I forgot ;Q:

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writingquestionsanswered · 12 days

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I was wondering, why does it feel like I can't write good original fiction or original characters, but my fanfiction is great (imo anyway, which I never feel for my original fiction)? In some senses, I get it, like I feel I really know the characters in other people's fiction after seeing them through their story, but like....ugh. It's really frustrating. Do I just not understand how to develop an original character? Am I overcomplicating things?

Fan-Fiction: Struggling with Writing Original Fiction Characters

All of the above... ♥

So, yes, you're probably overcomplicating things a bit, but also it actually is hard for a lot of writers to make the switch between writing canon characters and developing their own original characters. In other words, what you're experiencing isn't unusual and it's absolutely surmountable. :)

One of the things I love about fan-fiction for newer writers is it allows you to focus fully on the mechanics of writing without having to divert effort toward things like world building and character development. The problem with that, though, is once you make the switch from writing fan-fiction to writing original fiction, you might find that your world building and character development skills are lagging behind. It sounds like this might be the situation in your case.

This is why I think it's a great idea to experiment with writing OCs, or in other words "original characters" as part of your fan-fiction. You don't even have to post these stories if you don't want to--write them for yourself, for practice. But, creating an original character to join your favorite canon characters is a great way to get practice in character creation and development while still within the comfy zone of your fan-fiction. Just by virtue of having to exist in the canon world, you have a little bit of a template to follow as far as who this character can be and what they can do. But, you have some freedom with things like back story, internal conflict, and character arc. Writing OCs in fan-fiction helps you hone those skills and learn to create characters you love without tossing yourself into the deep end.

And, if you need practice with setting development/world building, you can do that within fan-fiction, too. Try moving the canon characters into a new time, world, or situation. For example, what if the characters of The Hunger Games were survivors of a modern day shipwreck in the South Pacific? Or, what if the characters from ACOTAR lived in a Dune-like world, with different planets and starships and great houses? In this scenario, you can focus more on world building and plot without having to worry as much about character design and development.

So... no matter what, the reality is you'll just have to be patient with yourself. Whether you choose to hone your character development skills through writing fan-fiction OCs, or whether you keep at it with original fiction characters, it's going to take some time for you to develop those skills. It will be frustrating because you'll know that these characters aren't hitting the mark you want them to, but that's also good, because knowing they're falling short means you can try to figure out why and what you can do to fix it.

And, if you need additional help, you can always visit my Character Development master list of posts.

I hope that helps!

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five-rivers · 6 days

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Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 6

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Well,” said Danny. “That sucked a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Daniel.”

“It’s just… What even was the plan there?” he asked the ceiling over the couch. “What were they doing? Did they think I wouldn’t notice if they just switched out while I was sleeping? Were they going to run the entirety of their council through while trying to distract me with stuff? Why did they even want to do that instead of just picking two of them?”

“I believe they wished to escape any specific, personal responsibility for you,” said Clockwork.

“Typical,” said Danny. “Are any of these people going to not lie to me?”

“I could not say. May I offer you some lunch?”

“Yeah.” Danny rolled off the couch. “What’ve you got?”

“Grilled cheese and soup,” said Clockwork. “I also have apples.”

“That sounds good. I’m, um, I’m not going back out right away. I can wait until morning, right?”

“As I said, you can wait here for as long as you want.”

Danny nodded. “It’s just… I don’t know, it’s just occurred to me that I don’t really know what else is here. Like, I’ve been in this room, and the kitchen, and my bedroom and bathroom, but not anywhere else here. If there is anywhere else. Did you decorate this place?”

Clockwork sighed. “I asked a friend for help,” he admitted. “They have an interesting sense of humor.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Danny, nodding.

“I don’t suppose you would like a tour after lunch?” There was a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, that sounds like it’d be nice.”

There actually wasn’t that much to the little house beyond what Danny had already seen. There was a little workshop, a formal dining room (currently set up for tea), another bathroom, and a small bedroom that looked as if it had never been slept in.

“Do you need to sleep?” asked Danny.

“Only once in a great while. I will not need to do so for quite some time.”

“What do you do in the workshop?”

“I have an interest in repairing clocks. The workshop is there to give me something to do while you are away.”

“That makes sense,” said Danny, trying to muffle a yawn that slipped out with his words.

“You’ve had a trying day. Why don’t you take a nap? I will wake you for dinner.”

“Is that really alright?” asked Danny. “I feel bad, leaving you just sort of stuck here by yourself.”

Clockwork shrugged. “It is no imposition on me. You could also avail yourself of one of the books in the library, or one of the ones you brought back from Jasmine’s.”

“Didn’t I leave those there?”

“They were presented to you as yours. As such, they now are. Of course, you also retain the things the Observants gifted you.”

“Including the video games?” asked Danny.

“Including those, yes.”

“Huh. I’m not secretly an Observant, am I? I know you said my appearance was changed, but I don’t think I could handle going from this to being an Observant.”

“I cannot tell you that, Daniel.”

“Right. The rules. Bleh. Bet the Observants made them to give themselves an advantage. They even put themselves on top of the list! Losers.”

Clockwork patted Danny’s shoulder. “That they did.”

Danny nodded, then started yawning again. He blinked hard and looked around the little workshop. “Maybe I could just watch you or something? I need an actual break from thinking after Jazz and the Observants.”

Clockwork nodded. “As you would.”

Dinner, naturally, was great. Breakfast was good, too, but Danny felt as if he wasn’t fully appreciating it on account of the massive weight of having to choose the next person to spend who-knows-how-long with while having nothing more than a single, mostly empty, piece of paper to learn about them.

“What if they all suck?” asked Danny.

“I thought you liked Jasmine,” said Clockwork as he handed over a cheese omelet with sausages.

“I liked her, but she was lying to me. I don’t like that.”

“A reasonable enough objection. However, a lack of honesty can be surmounted more easily than a lack of trust.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” complained Danny.

“For example, I am being less than honest with you by refusing to tell you certain things, but you still trust me more than the Observants.”

“Not telling me stuff is different than lying to me.”

“And yet, the English language does include the phrase ‘lie of omission.’”

“It's still different.”

“And you also trust Jasmine more than the Observants.”

“That's true,” said Danny. “But that's also partially because she sucks so much at lying. Maybe it's just that young people are bad at lying. But I feel like I'm better at lying, and I'm younger than Jazz, right? Otherwise she couldn't adopt me.”

“That is the generally accepted way of things.”

“Hm,” said Danny. “Maybe I'll do something closer to the middle. But not exactly the middle! That's what they'd want me to do.”

“I suspect the Observants expected you to simply go from the top of the list and be dazzled by their apparent wealth.”

“Yeah, probably. Still, it’s kind of funny to joke about. Like the brain thing with Jazz. But if I’m going to basically pick who I’m going with based on zero information, I might as well have the funniest reason possible for who I pick. Like, maybe I should pick this guy with a really weird name.

“Weird how?”

“He's got a bunch of them. Vladimir ‘Vlad’ Masters-Plasmius, Ceo Mastersoft, Ceo Vladco, Ceo– Wait, these are his job titles, aren't they?” He squinted at the page. “Who does this?

“Vlad Masters-Plasmius, presumably. But I believe that among his titles you have missed the name of the second person under that entry.”

“Really?” He ran his finger down the list. “Huh, yeah, this last one is separated out by a semicolon, I didn’t notice that. The Dairy King. Is that like the restaurant?”

“You will have to ask them when you see them,” said Clockwork.

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I guess so. It’d make these interests make more sense. You’d have to be pretty business savvy to run all those restaurants.”

“You don’t think the person who listed all their CEO titles is business savvy or interested in business?”

“Not if he lists it like that. That’s definitely overcompensating. Like, it’s way too, uh, what’s the world.” He whirled his fork in the air. “Boastful. People who have real skills don’t need to brag that much.”

“People from any level of skill may find occasion to brag.”

“Well, yeah, but not that much. Right? Vlad’s probably the football guy.”

“Again, you will have to find out when you join them. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Danny picked up his plate and put it in the sink.

“And you want to visit Vladimir and the Dairy King?”

“Yeah. The others sound more normal, so I’ll save them for later. Better to get all the really strange ones out of the way, right?”

“That is, again, your own choice.”

“I knew you’d say that,” he said. He spread out his arms. “Take me away, then.”

The portal whirled into being around him and deposited him in a green and gold atrium. It had a passing similarity to the Observant’s foyer, but was more colorful. It also had more football in it. Like, literally it had more football in it, in the form of several footballs in glass cases.

Maybe ‘Plasmius’ or ‘Masters’ or some other part of this guy’s name had something to do with football. At least a football Obsession would be… well… it would be something.

Yeah.

“Daniel!” said a tall, silver-haired man, spreading his arms in welcome. He wore a slick suit. “It’s so good to see you. I am Vlad Masters-Plasmius, your godfather.”

“Oh, hi,” said Danny. He looked around. “Isn’t there supposed to be another one of you? The Dairy King?”

“Ah, yes,” said Vlad, looking to the side. “My grandfather. He will certainly join us shortly. Normally, it would just be me here, but I must confess that I am not what you would call a great cook. I can avoid poisoning myself, but my grandfather is much better, and he’s agreed to help.”

“That’s nice of him,” said Danny, deciding to close the rest of the distance between himself and Vlad. “So, is the football stuff yours or his?”

“Mine. I’m something of a fan of the Packers.”

“That’s Green Bay’s team, right?” asked Danny, trying to bring a fuzzy memory into focus.

“It is! Are you interested in football?”

Danny shrugged. “I’ve not seen any games that I remember.”

“Something we’ll have to remedy. I have my favorite games recorded, and a theater to watch them in. It isn’t the same as seeing them live, but it will give you an idea of their flavor.” He patted Danny’s shoulder and guided him towards a staircase. “Come, now, I have much to show you. I’m sure you’re wondering how I came to be so wealthy.”

“Not really,” said Danny. “The last place I was at was bigger.”

“Pardon.”

“Also, you’re like the CEO of a dozen companies, and your grandfather is the Dairy King. Like the restaurant. You probably inherited a bunch, then went to school for business or something and made investments.”

“Ah, I see. I didn’t realize you were… so aware of the normal progression of such things.”

“What I’m really interested in is how you know me, seeing as I’m a ghost and you’re human. You said you’re my godfather. So… How did that happen? Did you know me when I was alive? Did you know my actual parents?”

“When you were alive?” asked Vlad with raised eyebrows. “My dear boy, did no one tell you? You are alive. You’re a half ghost, just like me.”

“People did tell me, I’m just not sure that I– Wait, you, too?”

“Indeed. You and I are the only ones to die in… that specific way.” He stopped walking and looked away from Danny. “Forgive me. It is difficult for me to speak of it, even now.” He shook himself and continued on, down the hall. “As for your parents, well… They are no longer with us, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” said Danny. “I guess that makes some sense, with this trial thing and all.” In the abstract, though, it was better than them being abusive or something. In the abstract. “Did I have any other, um, family? Other than you?”

“You have two sisters. One older, one younger. Rather fiery, both of them. But the younger has her own arrangements, and the elder is old enough, and human enough, that this process isn’t necessary for her.”

“Is the older one named Jazz?”

“You’ve met her already? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that she would try to get custody of you. She is very protective of you, but it is often at her own detriment.”

“What do you mean?” asked Danny, a little offended.

“She isn’t ready for the responsibility,” said Vlad. “Oh, I suspect she would happily and willingly take you on, and she is better than certain… other options, but she doesn’t have the life - or death - experience to do so without a great deal of personal sacrifice. Meanwhile, I am well established in both worlds. She need not sacrifice what remains of her own childhood. Ah, and here is your room.”

Vlad opened the door, showing Danny a room that bore a striking resemblance to his room in Jazz’s house. It was bigger, and it had a computer and a shelf of video games next to the shelf of rocket models, and the space theme wasn’t quite as pronounced or as detailed, but it was there.

Vlad probably did know him, then. And Danny hadn’t detected any lies. On the other hand, he probably was just better at lying, all things considered. A CEO would have to be.

He’d withhold judgment until he’d met the Dairy King. But for now… this didn’t seem too bad.

“If you would like, you can stay here and familiarize yourself with your lodgings, we can take a tour, or we can go ahead to my training room. I’ve made it large enough to maneuver comfortably in and accomplish some sparring, among other things. Perhaps we can explore your abilities, or… considering your prior comments… show you how to take your human form?”

Danny felt himself start to levitate slightly in excitement. “You can do that? Really?”

“I can at least give you some pointers. I’m the only one who knows how it feels to transform from human to ghost. So, can I assume that is your choice?”

“Yeah!” said Danny. “If that’s really something I can do, I want to know how to do it.” Also, this was a nice change from telling him nothing (Clockwork), lying to him (Jazz), or being the Observants (the Observants).

“Very well,” said Vlad, turning back into the hallway. “I keep my paranormal endeavors below ground. I entertain here quite frequently, and it wouldn’t do for random humans to come across some of the things I keep in my lab.”

Danny stilled. “Lab?” he asked.

“Yes, before I was a businessman, I was a man of science, and being as unique as we are, the only way to know anything about our own bodies and abilities is to discover it for ourselves.”

“Right,” said Danny, walking quickly to catch up, “that makes sense. But, um, your training room is in the lab?”

“They’re connected, for ease of measurement. The better to know exactly how strong our ectoblasts are, or how many wavelengths of light we are invisible to.”

Danny nodded. Again, that made sense. However…

“Is there a way to get there without going through the lab?”

“I don’t–” started Vlad, giving Danny a confused look. “No, I’m afraid not. In the past we might have phased through the walls, but the rules of this trial render them quite impenetrable. Why do you ask?”

“I just…” Danny shrugged. “Jazz said I died in a lab accident. And even without that…”

Vlad frowned. “I assure you, my lab has the best safety precautions money can buy and my ingenuity can produce. However, as I said, we do not have to begin with testing our powers. Could I perhaps interest you in a documentary on the greatest football team of all time?”

“I…” Danny really did want to learn how to transform. On the other hand… Maybe it was stupid, and maybe he’d been half joking about mad science labs the whole time he was with Jazz, but… “Yeah, we can watch a documentary.”

“Excellent. My theater is just this way. Do you like popcorn?”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

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flowers-of-april · 20 days

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april showers bring may flowers: prompt list

I wanted to make a flower-based April writing prompt challenge, so I did. Flower meanings are sourced from this book on flower meanings

PROMPT LIST 1: Daisy: Innocence 2: Lilac: First Love/Reminiscence 3: Violet: Modesty 4: Anemone: Forsaken Love 5: Oleander: Caution 6: Honeysuckle: Devotion 7: Poppy: Eternal Sleep 8: Laurel: Glory/Victory/Success 9: Orchid: Elegance/Beauty 10: Petunia: Anger/Resentment 11: Iris: Valour 12: Heather: Luck/Protection 13: Fern: Magic/Secrecy 14: Oak: Bravery 15: Tulip: Love Declaration 16: Magnolia: Dignity 17: Pansy: You Occupy My Thoughts 18: Lavender: Distrust 19: Mistletoe: Surmounting Difficulties 20: Queen Anne's Lace: Sanctuary 21: Protea: Transformation 22: Myrtle: Love 23: Hyacinth: Please Forgive Me 24: Nettle: Cruelty 25: Hemlock: Death 26: Dandelion: Divination/Fortune-Telling 27: Mint: Consolation 28: Jasmine: Amiability/Cheerfulness 29: Rue: Regret 30: Lily of the Valley: Return of Happiness

ALTERNATIVE PROMPTS Bouquet 1: Apology Hyacinth: Forgiveness Bluebell: Humility Peony: Bashfulness Olive Branch: Asking for Peace Bouquet 2: Courting Blush Roses: Blossoming Romance Cornflower: Hope in Love Sweet William: Gallantry Honeysuckle: Devoted Affection Bouquet 3: Marriage Roses: True Love Ivy: Fidelity Myrtle: Hope/Love Dahlia: Commitment/Eternal Love Bouquet 4: Bitter Ends Datura: Deceitful Charms Tansy: Hostility Thistle: Misanthropy Wormwood: Bitterness Bouquet 5: Regret & Sorrow Asphodel: Regrets to the Grave Azalea: Fragility Snowdrop: Consolation/Hope Rue: Regret Willow: Mourning

The only 'rule' is to please have fun. You may tag "flowersofapril2024," if you'd like, and I'll reblog anything I see. If you feel like filling these prompts on AO3 then "Flowers of April" or "Flowers of April 2024" would be a suitable tag. You may also submit to the FlowersofApril2024 collection on AO3

#writing prompt #writing prompts #flower prompts #writing challenge #fic prompt #story prompts #flower meanings #prompt list #april #challenge #flowersofapril2024 #flowers of april #fanfic #fandom

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allwaswell16 · 8 months

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My favorite One Direction fics that take place in a dystopian universe as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

💥 Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse

(E, 168k, soulmates au) When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

💥 With a whimper by @kitundercover

(M, 132k, slow burn) Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

💥 Praise the Mutilated World by @creamcoffeelou, delsicle / @eeveedel

(E, 106k, a/b/o) An enemies to lovers dystopian au where Harry is an elite alpha and Louis is a rebel omega with too much to fight for.

💥 landscapes of war (series) by orphan_account

(M, 99k, politics) Harry and Louis had never imagined that, when they would finally go back to New York, it would be as spies.

💥 waving to the hard times by @beardyboyzx

(NR, 80k, a/b/o) Twenty-five years ago, a group of alpha soldiers led a revolution to dispose of the beta oppressive monarchy.

💥 Last Day Alive by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 42k, rebellion leader Louis) Harry Styles was born to the leader of the Following - the organization that keeps their world peaceful and just.

💥 Barren Souls by @snowy38

(E, 37k, Handsmaid Tale inspired) Organic men and women are no longer fertile and only genetically modified humans are permitted to procreate.

💥 You Try To Be Everything (I Need) by @lululawrence

(NR, 36k, magic) Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

💥 nursing on a poison by forthetherapy / @forthetherapyy

(E, 28k, enemies to lovers) louis is one of many children stolen from their families to be raised by the upper class of the inner circle

💥 solid as a stone (when everything is gone) by cinemayougot

(M, 20k, zombies) it's the zombie apocalypse and Louis is stuck with Harry, with whom he shares a complicated relationship with

💥 The Post-War BP by @jaerie

(E, 17k, a/b/o) To ensure the survival of the country, the government opens The Breeding Program where young omegas can apply to carry an alpha's child in exchange for benefits.

💥 the beauty of the blistering sky by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

(E, 14k, post-apocalypse) He plans to make the journey alone, but a twist of fate brings him Harry, a stranger with a kind smile in a world that's forgotten what kindness means.

💥 Amor Deliria Nervosa by Chelsea Frew / @chelsea-frew

(E, 13k, angst) In a world in which love has been outlawed, two boys meet and fall in love at first sight.

💥 it's time to find your wings again by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 12k, prison guard Louis) His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe.

💥 my love will never leave you by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 10k, established relationship) In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.

💥 never coming home by rainbowsandgucci

(M, 8k, war) Later, after the lantern has been blown out and their emotions have been sated, Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s chest, and whispers into the darkness. “What if you hadn’t come home?”

💥 across the river is where my heart is by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

(G, 8k, girl direction) She remembers carefully raising her hand and waving—her little heart beating hard in her chest, as if she had done something dangerous, something forbidden, even though back then she could not understand the true divide the River made amongst them.

💥 Simple Gifts by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 6k, grief) the fic where Louis realizes the end of the world doesn't mean you stop living

💥 Rebels (series) by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt

(G, 5k, rescue mission) In a world ruined by environmental catastrophes and extreme wealth concentration, attacks against the government and the rich that started out as local riots but became a global movement.

—Rare Pairs—

💥 I Built A Home for You, for Me by aimmyarrowshigh, thediamondskies

(E, 70k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) In the year 2114, Nick Grimshaw is the voice behind the morning broadcast for a new England’s BBC—the voice behind the Counsel heading an England that has regained international supremacy through colonialism and violence, and domestic supremacy through the oppression of its people.

💥 Aftermath by StormDancer

(M, 11k, Zayn/Louis) In that other world, when Louis hadn’t won Zayn in a card game. When the chains around Zayn’s wrists that kept him with Louis were emotion, not gold.

#ficrec #trackinghappily #1dficvillage #ficsfor4am #trackinghome #tracksintheam #hltracks #1dsource

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homomenhommes · 20 days

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Red Cross Portraits Egg (1915)

Description: Opalescent white guilloché enamel covers a chased silver ground on this egg. Two opposing red enamel crosses bear the dates 1914 and 1915. A Russian inscription, in stylized gold enamel script in a band around the egg reads: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his comrades.” On the top of the egg is the crown and monogram of the Dowager Empress Marie in silver, while at the bottom is a six-petal rosette. The egg contains a hinged, folding screen of five oval miniature portraits, each set in an opalescent white enameled panel mounted in gold. The portraits, by Vasilii Zuiev, are of:

Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna, the tsar’s sister Grand Duchess Olga Nicolaievna, his eldest daughter Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna Grand Duchess Tatiana Nicolaievna, the tsar’s second daughter Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna, the tsar’s first cousin

Each wears the uniform of the Red Cross, whose symbol surmounts the individual panels. Each miniature is backed with mother of pearl and has the monogram of the person whose painting appears on the front (Snowman, 1962; Lesley, 1976).

Background Notes: This egg pays tribute to the service rendered to the Red Cross by Marie Feodorovna, first as tsarevna (crown princess) during the Russo-Turkish War of 1877, and then as president of the organization from the beginning of her reign until the fall of the Romanov dynasty. On March 25 (OS), 1915, Marie wrote to her daughter Olga:

My dear Nicky sent me a charming egg that I did not expect at all this year. It is covered in white enamel and has a red cross on both sides with the words of the Apostle John: Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends. There are five miniature portraits in frames inside the egg: yours, Olga, Alix, Tatiana and Marie, all en soeurs to charité (Ed. note: as sisters of charity)! Simply captivating. Fabergé is simply a genius and the greatest artist of our century. I am delighted. (Korneva & Cheboksarova, Empress Maria Feodorovna’s Favorite Residences in Russia and in Denmark, St. Petersburg, 2006).

Marie Feodorovna and other Romanov women did not shirk their wartime duty. The dowager empress opened a hospital in the Anichkov Palace and she made bandages. As well, she made gifts and sorted sheets for sickbeds in a palace dining room; she paid for two military trains and visited hospitals in Petrograd and Kiev. In a letter dated December 15 (OS) 1914 to Grand Duchess Nicholas Michaelovich, Marie wrote:

I go to hospitals as often as I am able. This is the only consolation for me. All of the wounded are dear to us and ennoble one’s soul … I admire them sincerely and I am ready to go on my knees before every one of them (Korneva & Cheboksarova, Empress Maria Feodorovna’s Favorite Residences in Russia and in Denmark, St. Petersburg, 2006).

The invoice for the 1915 Tsar Imperial Easter eggs appears lost. But an article published by Tatiana Muntian in December, 2013, to mark the 400th anniversary of the Romanov dynasty, included material from newly-discovered documents about the individual Imperial Easter Eggs for 1912, 1914, and 1915. The Red Cross Portraits Egg had cost just 3,875 rubles.

The 1917 inventory of confiscated Imperial treasure records, “Gold [sic] egg, covered with white enamel and a red cross, on small stand, containing a small, mother-of-pearl white enamel screen and with portraits of Imperial personages in a gold setting.” (Fabergé, Proler, & Skurlov, Fabergé Imperial Easter Eggs, London, 1997)

An expert valuation was made of this egg in 1927. Found by Fabergé, Proler, & Skurlov, the valuation estimated the egg’s worth at just 1,632 rubles-less than a tenth of the average value of the other fifteen eggs on the list. This was the first of five Imperial Easter eggs to be purchased by Lillian Thomas Pratt, wife of a General Motors executive, of Fredericksburg, Virginia.

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enigmaticexplorer · 3 months

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I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter IV

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers.

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 5.0K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

35 Nelona

“It’s my immigration status,” Kazi explained. “The magistrate wants someone who isn’t loyal to Eluca. Someone who will willingly turn on others and uncover potential rebels.”

Beneath the evening sun, the warehouse reached temperatures so high it was difficult to breathe. Stuck inside the metal box, Kazi glanced, again, at the broken door. She wasn’t trapped.

Even though the heat was suffocating and sweat a second skin, she was safe.

She had always struggled with tight, enclosed spaces—an irrational fear she would be trapped, unable to move, and die from either suffocation or starvation. She would suffer until the end.

The escape from Ceaia did nothing to quell her fears.

“Do you know what motivates him?” Fehr asked. Woven braids adorned her head in elaborate spirals that further established her aura of authority and composure.

“Personal greed aside”—Kazi looked between Fehr, Bash, and Carinthia—“he desires greatness. He wants the Moffs, and probably the Emperor himself, to respect and appreciate him. He wants praise and adoration.”

Bash shook his head. “He’s a boy with an inflated ego.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate him,” Kazi warned. In the last two weeks, she’d had time to analyze her conversation with the magistrate. To disseminate his words and actions. “He has power and money, and I get the sense that his paranoia combined with megalomaniacal tendencies makes him dangerous.”

“Moff Harpy views him as backwater scum,” Carinthia said. “I doubt he will surmount to anything.”

Kazi disagreed but it wasn’t her place to further argue, and frankly, she didn’t care enough to, either.

The door to the warehouse grated open and Kazi jerked around. Her first thought was the local police. To her bemusement, though, the three clone commanders strode into the building.

Outfitted in black suits bolstered with armor along their biceps and chests, they must have just returned from their last mission. Kazi hadn’t seen them in four days.

Confused, she glanced at the three rebels, all of whom wore serious expressions. They had planned this.

Chagrin simmered in her blood and Kazi fisted her hands behind her back. She despised surprises, and she loathed when others made plans without informing her. It left her feeling unprepared.

The clone commanders stood opposite the three rebels, leaving Kazi awkwardly placed in between. Like a mediator. A poor example of a mediator. Her opinions were too strong and logic overt so that she always knew which side to pick.

“You asked to meet,” Commander Cody said. The commander’s tone was harsher than usual. The warmth and friendliness he used around Neyti, and the politeness he used with Kazi and Daria were notably absent. Kazi only then realized the clone commander had a distinctive military voice. And he elected to forego it at the house.

Intrigued, Kazi studied the other two commanders. Commander Fox maintained a carefully neutral face devoid of emotion. Commander Wolffe was similar, the annoyance or tetchiness he displayed around her were missing, replaced by a reticent vigilance.

“Our people are interested in a collaborative partnership,” Fehr said. “A mutually beneficial situation.”

The clones stood still, unresponsive.

“You come in contact with Imperial ships, prisons, and bases,” Fehr continued, undeterred by the clones’ silence. Her sharp eyes drifted from one to the next. “We want you to collect intel for us.”

“That sounds like an order,” Commander Wolffe said. His tone was casual, but a hint of warning laced his words.

“It’s an offer.” Fehr lifted her chin. “You’re already visiting these places—”

“To complete our missions,” Commander Cody said flatly. “It’s dangerous infiltrating these places. And we’re on a time crunch. Stealing intel is a complication.”

Fehr shared a look with Bash and Carinthia. “We would pay you.”

Commander Fox chuckled. “We’re not mercenaries.”

“Your missions don’t pay. Your funds must be running low, and we could solve that problem for you.”

The narrowing of Commander Wolffe’s eyes confirmed the validity of Fehr’s assumption.

Ever tactful, Fehr lifted a placating hand. “We don’t need an immediate answer. Take whatever time you need to discuss. If you decide to work with us, send the intel to Kazi. She’ll analyze it for us.”

Kazi kept silent, hoping her features didn’t reveal her irritation. Fehr never conferred with her; Fehr never asked if she was willing to accept more work. Already she spent hours of her evening analyzing intel for the network. Already she risked her career—and her fucking life—to spy at work. She wasn’t a pet to be ordered around.

The meeting dissolved soon after. Fehr and Carinthia secluded themselves in a corner filled with rusting farm equipment. The clones moved off to the side and Kazi made to leave until a hand on her bicep pulled her to an abrupt halt.

She shot Bash a reproving look and pulled her arm from his grip. “Yes?”

“I need you to steal some intel for me,” he said quietly.

Kazi pursed her lips. “What type of intel?”

“Codes to a government fund.”

“No.” She took a step back. “Bank codes are kept behind the highest security-clearance walls, not to mention I have no authority or reason to be accessing them, and you’re Head Treasurer—”

“Kazi.” His smile was chastising, humored. “The Head Treasurer can’t access confidential government funds, you know that.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the network.”

“Are you threatening me?” She kept her tone flat and unimpressed, even as a cold hand of apprehension gripped her neck.

“See what you can do, all right?” With a wave in Fehr and Carinthia’s direction, Bash exited the warehouse.

Kazi stared at the warehouse’s broken door, unease roiling in her stomach. Stealing codes to a government fund was risky, and she didn’t even know if she could access them.

A raised hand from Commander Cody interrupted her thoughts and, exhaling an aggrieved breath, she approached him. The commander offered her a polite nod.

“Neyti is a good artist. For her age,” Commander Cody said. The topic of conversation surprised Kazi, piquing her curiosity. “I haven’t seen her draw in the house.”

A question hid within his statement and she frowned. “She doesn’t.”

He nodded, like he had expected—no, hoped—for that answer. “I picked up a set of paints on our mission. I want to give them to her.”

Dismay rendered her speechless and Kazi blinked dubiously at the commander. Dark brown eyes regarded her carefully.

“Why?” The question came out sharper than she intended, suspicion palpable in her tone.

The commander straightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “I paint. It’s something I’ve done for years. And I thought Neyti might want to try it. It’s not sketching but—”

“It’s art,” Kazi finished for him.

She searched his face, studying the white scar embedded into the dark skin of his left temple, trying to stifle her shock. Painting seemed a strange hobby for a soldier, much less a commander.

“I don’t know if Neyti likes to paint,” she admitted, thinking about the three additional sketches she added to the fridge the last few weeks. “But I think she would like it.”

“Good.” The corners of the commander’s lips lifted, and for the span of a heartbeat, Kazi felt herself smile smally in return.

The moment shattered, Commanders Wolffe and Fox joining them, the latter clapping a hand to Commander Cody’s shoulder to pull him away. Kazi let her eyes rove across Commander Wolffe’s face. He appraised her similarly. Her former ease dissipated beneath the intensity of his gaze and their close proximity.

Years ago, when she attended weekly networking events, Kazi learned just how much she liked her personal space. Elbows touching, mouths near her ears, intentional positioning so that she was crowded, leered down at, made her uncomfortable. Made the situation feel out of her control.

Over the years, she learned how to discreetly position herself to keep the distance while maintaining the façade of closeness. Half a meter worked well.

So she was slightly put off when Commander Wolffe took a hesitant step closer. He didn’t bend down, and his eyes remained on hers. But it was close enough she could smell him. A hint of sweat and an odd reminder of Ceaia—

“Cody isn’t giving Neyti paints out of pity,” the commander said. His voice was low, gruff. “I haven’t told him or Fox what happened to her mother.”

“Oh.” It was the only response she could think of. She studied him skeptically. “Why haven’t you?”

The commander hesitated. “Do you think she’ll like the paints?”

Of course he would ignore her question and reply with his own. She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She expected judgment—disdain or expectation—but his face remained forcibly indifferent, like he was trying to hide his intrigue. His shoulders rolled back; his gaze wandered across the windows lining the top of the warehouse. He seemed hesitant. Jaw flexing, eyes shifty.

“Is she still…scared of us?”

The commander seemed to regret the question. He folded his arms over his chest and looked away. Annoyance downturned his mouth.

She wasn’t sure why it mattered to him. Why any of them cared.

Maybe it was the moment with Commander Cody, or maybe it was the overt tension in Commander Wolffe’s tone—his unspoken desire to know if Neyti felt comfortable, safe—but Kazi decided he deserved an explanation.

“Neyti is shy and quiet, but she’s also curious and imaginative.” Kazi smiled slightly at the memory of the little girl who hid behind the upper level’s banisters to study the clones. “Her life was upturned only a few months ago and all of this is unusual and probably disconcerting. I don’t think she’s scared of you—”

“She doesn’t spend time downstairs.”

When we’re present was buried beneath his words.

“She watched her mother get shot. By someone with your face,” Kazi said. The commander winced and she shifted awkwardly between her feet. “She’s not scared, but she doesn’t trust you. And the situation is even more confusing with new soldiers appearing every few days.”

Commander Wolffe levelled her with a hard look. “We will never bring in someone who could hurt her. You’re aware of this, yes?”

Kazi tugged on her braid, discomfort warming her cheeks. She couldn’t answer him honestly because the truth was: she didn’t trust him or the others.

“Neyti’s just a child,” she said. The commander’s eyes narrowed. He knew she was intentionally avoiding his question. “She doesn’t rationalize the way you or I do.”

The heat in her face worsened and she fought the urge to look away, unnerved by the way Commander Wolffe assessed her. After a long moment, he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back.

“We have some intel that needs to be analyzed.” He worked his jaw. “Are you interested in it?”

Nonplussed by the offer, she frowned. “I thought you analyzed your intel.”

“I do.” He shrugged, appearing blasé. “I get busy. And we’re planning another mission that needs my attention.”

The apathy in his features made it difficult to detect a lie, or potential doubt.

“Sure.” She glanced at Fehr and Carinthia who were still speaking together. “This won’t include the network, will it?”

“It’s off the record,” he answered smoothly. Nodding at Commanders Cody and Fox who were waiting beside the door, he unclasped his hands, his gaze heavy on hers. “We can discuss it this evening.”

Kazi waited for the clones to leave, still shocked by Commander Wolffe’s offer, and then made her way to the door.

“Analyzing the clones’ intel… Do you think you have the skillset to do it?”

Stiffening, Kazi stopped just before the door. Carinthia mirrored her. A quick perusal of the warehouse revealed they were alone. Fehr must have left when she was talking to Commander Wolffe.

Wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, Kazi eyed Carinthia. “Fehr clearly believes so.”

“So she does.” Carinthia picked at a fingernail, her smile coy. Biting. “The intel should go to me. I was the primary analyst before you arrived.”

Exhaustion from the varying conversations the last half hour made Kazi roll her eyes. “Then take it up with Fehr and Bash.”

“Proximity seems a more convincing argument as to why you were chosen. The clones do live with you after all.”

“You forget that I didn’t want them to live with me.” Kazi sniffed. “It wasn’t something I had much of a choice in.”

“Yet you prosper from it.”

She snorted. “How do I prosper from sharing my home with soldiers who threaten my family’s very existence? Soldiers who served the Empire? I didn’t want them. I still don’t want them.”

Carinthia tossed her a bored look. “Were you aware Magistrate Aro is attempting to track deserting clones in this sector?”

As a data courier to Moff Harpy, Carinthia maintained one of the most important and dangerous positions out of the rebel cohort. Her security level was fairly low, but she had access to some sensitive Imperial information. Information that proved valuable.

The job also meant Carinthia overheard secrets and rumors.

“I did.” There was no point in lying. “He asked me to analyze the data.”

Carinthia arched a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. “You didn’t think this important to tell us?”

Kazi shrugged. “What do you care?”

“I don’t trust you.” Carinthia sneered. “You’re a liability to the network.”

“If you say so.” Uninterested in more accusations, Kazi turned on her heel and exited the sweltering warehouse, heading toward her aircar.

Lost to the brief relief of the jungle’s leafy shade, it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t alone. Leaning against a tree not far from the warehouse’s entrance stood Commander Wolffe.

The commander was watching her. Lips pressed together, brows furrowed. The calculation in his expression was severe.

A stilted breeze rustled the nearby trees. The commander gave her a final once-over and then stalked away. His odd behavior left her feeling uneasy.

Late evening sun warmed the paved pathways of Hollow’s Town’s Marketplace. The air carried a scent of coming rain, and the colorful tarps canopied above the pathways were pulled taut to protect vendors from potential rainfall.

Restaurants, an outdoor theater, shops, cantinas, and bakeries picketed the pathways to the compacted aisles of the Marketplace. Stalls crammed the aisles. Vendors sold a myriad of goods: fresh fruit and veggies, sliced meats, spices and herbs, clothing, souvenirs from foreign planets.

All pathways led to the center of the Marketplace—the heart of Hollow’s Town—the Square.

Busiest on off-days, the Square was the place to socialize, barter, and relax. The paved pathways roughened into cobblestone. A fountain, elegantly carved from the gray stone native to Eluca, stood in the center. Elaborate spurts of water danced the edges; a statue of a black jaguar, Eluca’s national animal, prowled the base of the fountain, its ears alert and maw open in a vicious roar.

Crowded and convivial, Kazi avoided the Square on off-days, preferring a quieter tone. Like this evening.

Confirming Neyti still walked beside her, Kazi made plans to visit the stalls after dinner. They were running low on lumina berries, anyway. A quick spree would be useful and—

“I wonder if any vendors sell canvases,” she mused aloud. Neyti lifted her face, confusion wrinkling her forehead. “We can get some canvases for you to use. With the paint from Mr. Cody.”

Nose scrunching, Neyti considered the offer.

The little girl was mystified when Commander Cody gifted her a small set of paints an hour ago. It took Kazi’s encouragement for her to accept the paints. And even then, Neyti left the paint set on the stairs, not bothering to bring them to her room. Kazi caught a hint of dejection on the commander’s face but he didn’t press.

“It was kind of Mr. Cody, you know.” Neyti scowled and Kazi stopped in the pathway, giving the youngling a hard look. “It was. He thought you might like something new.”

Still scowling, Neyti toed the ground. Kazi tentatively, lightly, placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Look,” she said. “Mr. Cody is nice. And Mr. Fox and Mr. Wolffe are…too.” She released Neyti’s shoulder, awkwardly rubbing her arm. “They’re not going to hurt you. I promise.”

For a quiet moment, Neyti studied her, and heaving a sigh far too exasperated for a six-year-old, she conceded with a shrug.

Stifling her amusement, Kazi continued down the pathway. She and Neyti rounded a corner and entered the Square. Stalls of vibrantly colored flowers edged the closest buildings.

Smaller than its neighbors, the restaurant Daria asked Kazi to meet at hosted a simple outdoor pavilion. Twinkling lights wove among the patterned ceiling of the lattice-styled veranda. Large, leafy vines slithered along the walls.

A handful of patrons were seated, the lull of their conversations quiet. The cooler weather of the evening and the wink of the bulbous lights created an amiable environment for a night out. Kazi hadn’t realized how much she craved a simple, uneventful evening with her, Daria, and Neyti. It felt like a family dinner.

“Kazi!” Daria stood up from a table she snagged at the corner of the veranda. A view of the rolling, jungle hills eclipsed the horizon.

Starting to smile, Kazi beckoned Neyti forward. A few more paces brought them to the table, and to the male rising to his feet. A male seated at their table. A male who looked in her direction and gave her an interested smile.

Her pace slowed and she shot her sister a dark look. “Did you make a friend?”

Daria laughed, gesturing to the male. “This is Jason. I asked him to join us today.”

Jason extended his hand, his smile warming into charisma.

And her ephemeral contentment dissipated. Suddenly, she was too warm, her blood overheated, her muscles tensed.

Daria had planned this. Planned a date under the pretense of wanting to spend time together.

She should have known. Too much time had passed since she and Daria were younglings who cared deeply for one another. She knew her sister and her sister’s motivations, and her dashed hopes were her own fault.

But it didn’t stop the constriction in her chest; it didn’t stall the hollowness burrowing deep inside of her, scooping flesh and muscles away until all that remained was a skeletal shell.

Her sister didn’t care for her outside of an arranged marriage, and she couldn’t even blame Daria. Because she was the one who created the distance and enforced it. For years.

Electing maturity in the wake of both a public setting and Neyti’s disconcerted countenance, Kazi accepted Jason’s hand, pulling away as quick as possible. She took the empty seat across the table and surveyed him.

Light brown hair, skin tawny, crinkled eyes, an impeccably tailored suit. Probably four years older.

He was conventionally handsome. A man most women would be interested in. Which begged the question: Why was he still single? And why was he entertaining arranged dates?

“Daria,” Kazi said in a thin voice, picking up her menu. “A word.” Snapping open the menu to hide their faces, she dropped her false smile. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Kazi,” Daria hissed, glancing at the closest tables. “We are in public. Control yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be reacting this way if you hadn’t ambushed me with something I specifically told you I wasn’t interested in.” Her voice shook with the rage she was trying to keep buried. “What did you tell him?”

Daria sighed, as if she were dealing with a petulant child. “I told him you were single and interested in a meeting.”

“A meeting about what?”

“Marriage.”

Kazi released a sardonic breath. “You thought it wise to bring a strange man to dinner?”

“I met him through Fehr.” Daria tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “He comes from a family that’s aware of these types of practices—it’s not odd to him. He’s kind and hard-working. And he’s wealthy—”

“I don’t care—”

“You’re being rude.” Daria sat back in her chair with a pointed look in Jason’s direction. “He joined us for dinner. The least you can do is entertain him.”

Shoving the menu aside, Daria engaged Jason in superficial conversation.

Kazi flattened the menu to the table. Blankly, she stared at it.

Heated anger rumbled beneath her skin and coiled in her stomach. Coiled so tightly it was sure to burst.

A drink of cold water and a forced inhale reminded her to maintain control over the emotions fluctuating inside of her, slamming their fists against her mental walls to escape.

She would not make a fool of herself tonight. She would remain composed and in control. She would not humiliate herself by reacting.

But it was difficult to ignore her mounting anger. To ignore the hurt brought upon by Daria’s betrayal and her self-loathing for feeling this way.

Jason peered curiously at her but welcomed Daria’s conversation, eager to talk about himself. His family’s name. His family’s wealth. His family’s business and traditions and culture.

The dinner was too similar to her juvenile years. Years her mother used to turn her into a young woman suitable for an affluent marriage.

Years she spent in etiquette classes learning how to maintain a home, how to groom a youngling to become future heir, how to best support a husband and his career.

At sixteen, her mother scheduled arranged marriage meetings. Luncheons and parties and events. Hours spent in the company of male suitors who saw her as an object on their arm. Hours wasted beneath the critical stares of their mothers who evaluated her manners, poise, body size, fingernails.

Lack of emotion, a general air of indifference, and a refusal to endear herself to the males her mother presented, the arranged marriage dates ended with a still-single Kazi. Much to her mother’s chagrin.

At seventeen, Kazi overheard a conversation between her mother and friend.

“Your daughter is too unlikable. Her bluntness is derogatory, and her face too inexpressive. You need to marry her quickly, or no man will ever take her.”

“She doesn’t yet understand the importance of marriage.” Her mother’s sigh was both exhausted and vexed. “She’s difficult to reach. Too unfeeling. Devoid of emotion.”

“Men want someone who shows interest—both dutiful and supportive.” Her mother’s friend sniffed. “Marry her off to an older man. A widow. A man desperate.”

Her mother didn’t respond, even as Kazi silently begged her to argue. To refuse.

“You have four more years until she reaches an acceptable age. Much can happen between then, and contracts can be broken.”

“What are you saying?” her mother demanded.

“Marry her next year in a hushed event. No one needs to know, and then she will no longer be your problem.”

Kazi tried to ignore her mother’s words. Her mother’s accusations. She wasn’t unfeeling, and she wasn’t devoid of emotion. On the contrary, she felt too much.

She didn’t want to feel so many emotions.

But she did. She felt deeply, and it was a burden to bear.

Dinner lasted two hours.

Kazi spoke no more than twenty words. She relied on Daria to lead the conversation and Jason to fill in the bouts of silence.

The moment the bill arrived, she snatched it up, paid off the credits, and stood. She turned her attention to a stunned Jason who was hastily rising to his feet, glancing between her and the paid bill.

“I apologize for wasting your time tonight,” she said flatly. “But I’m not interested in a marriage at this time.” Jason opened his mouth. She cut him off, motioning for Neyti to join her. “We’re leaving. Goodnight.”

The silence on the aircar ride back to the house was fraught with tension.

Daria stared straight ahead, lips pressed thinly together.

Kazi gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white.

Once inside the house, Neyti looked furtively between the two sisters and then trudged upstairs. Kazi stalked around the kitchen bar, noting pieces of dirt on the hardwood floor and a new set of embroidered curtains covering the kitchen’s windows. Daria’s mess and craft.

The moment Neyti’s bedroom door shut, she spun on her sister.

“How could you do that?” she snapped. “How could you spring a fucking marriage date without consulting me first?”

Humiliation and rage warred within her, clashing in endless waves of resentment.

“Did you not listen to me when I said no more?” She slammed a hand on the kitchen bar. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Daria straightened, her face pale with her own rage. “I was thinking about my sister and her future. I was thinking about what you need—”

“What I need?” Kazi laughed, the sound deranged. “You don’t even know what I want in a relationship, much less what I need.”

“That’s the problem, Kazi. You don’t know what you want!” Daria inhaled a shuddering breath. “You’re getting old—”

She snorted. “I’m twenty-six—”

“And you’re reaching an unmarriable age,” Daria snapped. “On top of your age, you have Neyti. A man can overlook your age since you have appealing features, but it’s harder for him to overlook a youngling. Neyti isn’t of your blood nor his, and she’ll be seen as such. You need to find a man to marry now before it’s too late.”

Kazi stared at her sister in disbelief. Disbelief that a man she would marry would see Neyti as a hindrance—a burden—rather than a kind, imaginative girl.

A real man would be lucky to call Neyti his daughter.

“If I marry, it will be to a man who loves me. Not a man who’s desperate for a housewife.” She ran a hand through her hair, mussing her two braids. “If I marry, it will be for love. Not duty or desperation.”

“Love can be learned,” Daria argued. “That is the point of a courtship.”

“I don’t want to be courted by a man I don’t know. Especially not by a man whose only intention is to determine if I’m a viable candidate for marriage. I have standards, Daria. I won’t settle for mediocrity.”

Kazi fisted her shaking hands at her sides. Surely Daria understood her sentiment. Surely Daria realized she didn’t want fictional love fabricated by forced companionship.

“I can take care of myself perfectly fine,” she said. “The only man I’ll show interest in is a man who recognizes my humanity. Who sees me as a person.”

“Your independence and obstinance will alienate you from any man who might show interest.” Kazi recoiled and Daria levelled her with a frustrated glare. “Men want to be wanted. Needed. Your opinionated attitude and critical personality counteract what they want. You emasculate—”

“He’s not a real man if he feels threatened by my independence.”

“A man can’t properly lead if you constantly question him—”

“I’m not living my life to please a man!” Her body was trembling, her hands fisted so tight they were nearly numb. “I’m independent and stubborn and self-righteous. Those qualities are who I am, and if a man refuses to accept all of me, then I don’t want to be with him.”

“Men like that don’t exist!” Daria waved a dismissive hand. “You’re being too idealistic and impractical. Men want convenience and they want fulfillment from a wife. What you’re naively thinking about is unattainable.”

“Then I’ll never marry.”

“Then you’ll be alone forever.”

Kazi shook her head, looking away. Solitude was her companion, but loneliness was a shadow she couldn’t lose. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Her current loneliness was intentional, yet she yearned for more. She was always yearning for more.

“That’s hardly a problem,” she argued. “I enjoy the peace and quiet of being in control of my life. I enjoy my solitude—”

“Yes,” Daria spat. Her tone was bitter, scornful. “I’m well aware that you prefer your solitude over any sort of companionship—including my own.”

Something was buried in the words trying to escape. Trying to make itself known to Kazi.

But she didn’t care enough to solve the mystery.

Her sister had betrayed her trust—humiliated her in a public setting for her own personal goals—and she’d had enough.

“Never do that again,” she said coldly.

The resentment on her sister’s face twisted into surprise.

“Get it through your thick fucking skull that I don’t need to be married in order to be happy.” Anger surged hot beneath her skin, like a case of shaken tibanna about to explode. “If I do get married, it will be to a man who wants to be with me—no matter my obstinate personality—he will be a man who sees all of me and still wants to be with me—”

“Commander Wolffe. Commander Fox. Are you in need of something?”

Kazi faltered. Her heart fell at the same time her spine straightened.

Turning around, she found the two clones standing in the partition of the sunroom. Bruises marred their faces and blued their fists. Sweat glimmered on their foreheads and necks; their chests rose with heavy yet slowing breaths.

Embarrassment flushed her face and Kazi gritted her teeth, gripping her trembling hands behind her back to hide the remnants of her anger and mortification.

How long had they been standing there? How much had they heard?

Flustered, Kazi ignored her sister, opting to meet Commander Wolffe’s disinterested gaze.

“If you give me a few minutes, I’ll be ready to discuss the intel—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She frowned. “I thought you wanted to talk—”

“I’ve changed my mind.” The commander rolled his shoulders back, his demeanor cold. Apathetic. “You’re not wanted.”

Kazi could only stare at him, bewildered by the abrupt change in his demeanor. She didn’t understand the sudden antipathy glinting in his eyes. She didn’t understand why he asked for her help that morning only to rescind it. Rudely.

Behind him, Commander Fox rolled his eyes, shouldering his fellow soldier before making his way to the basement. Commander Wolffe regarded her for another moment and then followed.

The bookcase slid into place with a soft hiss.

A headache thumped behind her eyes and Kazi slowly faced her sister. But Daria was already mounting the stairs, her features drawn, her hand spasming on the guardrail.

Soon Kazi found herself alone. She leaned against the kitchen bar, rubbing her temple.

Stress pressed down on her, like the chains of an anchor dragging her down. Dragging her into unescapable darkness.

Masterlist | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

A/N: Next chapter release – February 1st

This is your friendly reminder to pay attention to the date and month of each chapter. There will be major time jumps between certain chapter groupings.

Star Wars Months:

Elona Kelona Selona Telona Nelona Helona Melona Yelona Relona Welona

#I Yearn and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #Star Wars fanfiction #commander wolffe fanfiction

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