| !

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷 ~ 𝙻𝚊𝚔𝚎

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠， 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑍𝑢𝑘𝑜， ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢，𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑒．．．

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚉𝚞𝚔𝚘𝚜𝚆𝚒𝚏𝚎𝟽𝟽𝟽. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷𝟼𝟾𝟺

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛

Narrators' P.o.v:

Your feet slam against the cold stone pathway as Aurora drags you by my arm down to the river. It's about 6 in the morning and she decided to drag you down to the river for an early morning swim. Not that you're complaining though. You've always had sort of a connection with water you guess? The way it flows around you, the refreshing feeling of fresh water on your fingertips, the way it moves when you practice bending.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel the ground under you change textures, switching to the cold sand you know from the lake. Aurora lets go of your hand once you get to the beach, tossing her towel on the dock that extends a couple of yards out into the water. She runs full force off the deck, tucking her legs to her torso with one hand and squeezing her nose shut with the other.

"CANNONBALL!" she yells as she jumps off the dock. A small grin spreads across her face as she emerges from the water, hair soaking wet. She shakes like a dog before turning to you and giving you a grin.

You set your towel down on the dock and walk to the edge, sitting down and swinging your legs over the dock plunging them into the cold water. It feels fresh on your skin like a cold breeze on a hot summer's day.

"Y/n get in the water already!" Aurora whines.

You swing your legs back and forth, testing the water before lifting yourself off the dock and sinking into the water. You dunk your head under the water letting it soak into your hair, emerging from the water, you run your hands over your face pushing your hair out of the way.

As you have your eyes shut to avoid getting water in them, you feel the cold water splash onto my back. You turn around slowly your jaw dropped. "What the hell Aurora?!" you yell, "You were already wet anyway!" she yells back defensively, her hands raised above her head, surrendering. You splash her back aggressively but not enough to hurt her and she covers her face but ends up getting water in her eyes anyway as you continue to splash her. « Stop itttt! » she screams, but you don't stop.

You use your water bending to pick up a ball of water, bringing it over to her and letting it go.

"Aahh! Y/n! Why would you do that?!" she yells, wringing out her hair.

"You deserved it." you shrug a small grin spreading across your face. You swim back over to the dock and climb up onto it while Aurora is still in the water.

You watch her for a couple of minutes in silence before she turns to you to say something "Do you want to go into the town today? For like a girl's day?" she asks while doggy paddling over to you.

"Yeah sure, any specific reason why?" you ask, tilting your head to the side slightly.

"No not really," she climbs over the edge of the dock and walks to the shore, she picks up her towel and wraps it around herself. "Is it illegal to want to spend time with my sister?" She asks sarcastically, raising one eyebrow.

"I mean no but I don't recall a time you didn't have other reasons to hang out with me," you stand up from the edge of the dock and turn around to face her, crossing your arms.

She rolls her eyes and turns away from you starting up the beach and to the house. You run up to catch up with her and you get to the house shortly. Once you get to the house you open the door to a heavenly aroma coming from the kitchen. You walk into the kitchen and take in a big whiff of, pancakes? You're not sure.

"That smells really good Mom," You say leaning against the doorway. "Thank you, sweetie, it's chocolate chip pancakes." She says as she flips a pancake. "Do you want any?" She turns around to face you. "No I'm good," Yourespond shaking your head. "I need to go take a shower. But I'll have some after." you walk to your room and into the bathroom connected to it.

After you take a shower you wrap yourself in a towel and pick out an outfit from your dresser.

The outfit:

(You can choose a different one if you don't like it this is just a suggestion btw)

You walk into the dining room again where your sister is sitting at the table reading the newspaper. She looks up at you and a mischievous grin spreads across her face.You raise one eyebrow at this.

"What?" you ask as you slide onto the bench against the wall at the dining room table. She turns around the paper and doesn't give you time to read it before talking excitedly, "The prince is choosing his wife today Y/n!" she blurts out wiggling her eyebrows in your direction, "you need to get over it already, it was just a childhood crush. Nothing more, and anyway I don't have an ounce of attraction to him now. I mean with all the horrible things he's done, he doesn't even interact with his people! If I were a princess I would actually connect to my people..." you mutter that last part.

"I know, I know," she says as she waves her hand dismissively, "but you have a chance to be princess technically, I mean with the whole having to choose his wife today thing." she stabs a piece of pancake with her fork and shovels it into her mouth. "He has been very picky about his spouse, he even rejected Luna of the water tribe. LUNA! She's gorgeous." she shovels another piece of pancake into her mouth and you grimace.

Mom slides a plate to you full of steaming hot pancakes and you give her an appreciative smile. "Yeah. You wonder why he has? Cause he's stuck up. I mean he's been waited on by servants his entire life, he's probably a whiny man baby that can't do anything for himself." you stab a piece of pancake with your fork and shove it into your mouth.

"He would be a dreamy man baby either way," she plops her head into her hands "I mean have you SEEN him after he got rid of that god-awful ponytail?"

You shake your head disapprovingly, "First of all don't call him dreamy you should stick to liking boys your age, and second of all I have but it doesn't make it any less of a horrible person and worse ruler." you take a sip of my water. "Personality is a huge part of the attraction as well as looks."

She sighs and rolls her eyes at your statement. "What if he's not a horrible person? How do you even know he is anyway? It's not like you've actually met him before."

"He hasn't exactly proven himself to be a good person, he's made horrible decisions for the safety of his people just for more power."

Obviously.

"What if that was his dad or someone else? You don't know if it was him," she says furrowing her eyebrows.

"Y'know what fine, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. But the moment he does something that would prove my point I'm going right back to hating him." you finish the rest of your pancakes and bring my plate over to the dishwasher placing it in with the other plates. Aurora follows shortly after you, putting her plate in the sink, "I wonder who he's going to choose though." She leans against the counter and faces you. "Just think it could be anyone in this town, at least the girls his age. It could be you!" She throws her arms up in the air dramatically while saying this.

"I'd rather not it be me," you say my voice laced with repulse. "I mean to be quite frank marrying a man I just met is nauseating. The lifestyle wouldn't be half bad though, the dresses, the money, the palace, seems pretty great."

She scoffs at your statement, "Who cares if you don't know anything about him? You probably wouldn't even have to interact with him half the time. He would be bust with all his lordly duties or whatever. You would basically just be a trophy wife, something to boost his image."

"I'd rather not be treated like an object, knowing there's so much wrong with the nation and not being able to do a single thing about it would quite literally put me in a mental institution." you turn away from her, heading back over to the table and sitting down again. "How soon do you want to go into the town?" you ask.

"In like 5 minutes," she lowers herself onto the chair next to you while saying this. "Are you going to drive us or do we have to walk?" She asks, obviously hoping it's the former.

You try to resist a smile fighting itself onto your face at her obvious favor to driving, "Don't worry I'll drive us there." you say slightly shaking your head.

"Great!" She responds shooting up from her chair and making her way to where we keep our shoes. You make your way over there as well, grabbing a pair of navy Converse and cramming your feet into them (Converse are actual hell to put on). You quickly put your hair up with a claw clip and tie your shoes just as Aurora finishes putting hers on.

You walk out the door and you close it behind you, walking to the car where Aurora is already sitting in the passenger seat. "Ready?" you ask as you get into the driver's seat. You buckle your seatbelt and turn to her as she nods. "Ok," you respond and press your foot to the gas pedal.

~~~~~~~~~~~♕♔~~~~~~~~~~~

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜:

Tumblr

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 ~ 𝚃𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝙰/𝙽: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍. Word count: 1295 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙�…

Tumblr

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 - 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗? Warnings: none, A/N: this is not my work, my it’s my sister’s from Wattpad Narrator's P.O.V: Oh god... You tu

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐶. 𝑆.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❆ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

𝟾.𝟽.𝟸𝟺

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 𝟸𝟹𝟶𝟼

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑣𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑡, 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑒 𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑦 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦, 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑒.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

“𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑

𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 (𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒

𝑦𝑜𝑢)“

~ 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒 | 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑎 𝐷𝑒𝑙 𝑅𝑒𝑦

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Coriolanus Snow isn’t the feelings type of person. He didn’t express an ounce of love for you throughout your entire marriage, and didn’t expect any from you. Not even in the most intimate of moments, and never behind closed doors.

He wasn’t abusive which is better than most man in the capitol. Although if you ever got in his way there was no doubt that you would meet an untimely demise. He mostly just kept himself cooped up in his office all day, mulling over stacks of papers and papers.

You were more than an exceptional wife by his standards. Quiet and obedient, you were smart and graceful and were a wonderful cook when need be. You have given him a beautiful heir, with little to no complications during birth.

He admired your beauty, appreciated you in general, but love you? No. He denied himself of love after that horrible district girl had torn down the walls that he had so meticulously crafted his whole life. All because he had been stupid enough to fall for district scum.

So why was it that when you had succumbed to your sickness had he been drowned in such an overwhelming feeling of dread that he felt like recreating the end of Romeo and Juliet?

At this moment he lies curled in on himself on the queen-sized bed in your sleeping quarters. You two had never shared a room and his is down the hall but for some reason he does not get up when he knows he should.

Sheets engulf his body, smelling of the rose perfume he insisted you wore mixed with the smell of your shampoo. Dried tears stick to his face and his eyelashes droop from the weight of them.

He wasn’t like this immediately after the funeral, what drove him to this point is noticing all the things you had done for him that now leave a gaping hole in his life.

The way you used to draw designs on his coffee every morning, the way you would massage his back after a long day of work without him even having to ask, the way you would bring him snacks when you knew he hadn't eaten all day from being too engrossed in his work.

He would always shoo you away and chastise you for disturbing his work, (although would always bring an empty plate back into the kitchen).

For some reason, he was expecting you to come into his office to hand him a plate of food or ease the tension of his shoulders with your delicate hands. But then you didn't.

And he couldn't take it anymore.

Which is why he has barely moved from his position for days, only to go to the bathroom occasionally. He can’t remember the last time he ate or drank anything. Maybe at the funeral, maybe before.

He sees you in his dreams, what your relationship could've been if he wasn’t so cold to you

.So he rolls over and slips into unconsciousness yet again.

You walk with him in the gardens of the president’s mansion.

The gardens you so carefully tend to every day, even after Coriolanus tells you that you can hire people to do that. You say it’s for your joy, and although he still thinks it inefficacious he leaves you be.

“The gardens really do look beautiful at this time of year,” you state as you lean in to capture the musk of a rose bush besides you.

It really is an alluring sight, even a man like Coriolanus can admit. Although he has come to notice everything you touch has become beautiful in his eyes.

“Yes, it does,” he says, his eyes practically glued to the back of your head.

You reach your hand out to touch one of the flowers and prick your finger on a thorn.

You wince and Coriolanus peeks over your shoulder to see a red stain on your, otherwise perfect in his eyes skin.

“Are you okay?” he reaches out and places and hand onto your shoulder to try and give a soothing effect, nevertheless his hands had never had that effect on people, as they are nearly the same as a corpeses in temperature.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” you say.

A strong feeling of a mix deja vu and unease spread though his body, manefesting in a shiver that runs all though his frame.

It’s not fine.

The bleeding doesn’t stop.

Blood gushes out of the wound and the force of it tears the skin around it. Three long gashes spread their way up your arm as you let out a chilling scream.

The red liquid spills and pools around your feet as your face twists in horror. Your knees hit the floor with a sikening crack and they split the fresh blood mixing with the blood littered with debris from the floor.

“HELP ME!” You shriek as the gashes spread up your shoulders and to your neck the loose skin of your arms draping off of the red flesh underneath. Almost like a flower wilting.

You always were his rose.

Coriolanus’s wants to help, he really does, surprisingly. But something is preventing him from moving, his body is as stiff as a board. He tries to move, to override the benevolent power that overwhelms his whole body. But he can’t. He is out of control.

He hates being out of control.

He wakes up drenched in sweat. His heart is beating rapidly and his breathing is skewed. He turns to his side and vomit spews off the side of the bed and into a bowl that one of the avox put down after the third time cleaning up.

Grief is something that Coriolanus has had very minimal exposure to, so it materializes in such a violent way for him.

He stumbles out of bed and makes his way to the desk next to the entrance of the room. Sitting on it is the diary you kept, you would write in it every night, Coriolanus knows. You rarely wrote in his presence but during the few times you did you refused to go into much detail of the contents. He assumed it was because you were writing about minuscule things, and he was right. For the most part.

But as he sat days ago, after your funeral, he found himself turning to the back pages of the worn book to find detailed entries of the last days of your life.

Repeating things like, ‘I told Coriolanus it was just a cold so he wouldn’t worry.’ And things similar to that dotted across the pages.

Some of the later pages become incoherent as your state deteriorates and you become too tired to form the thoughts that ever so filled your brain before.

One of the specific reasons you downplayed your sickness was you didn’t want to distract him from his work.

His stupid, horrid work.

He never wants to set foot in his office again.

Much less touch quill to paper.

His therapist, (that you suggested to him), told him not to beat himself up about it, that it wasn’t his fault. But how could he think otherwise? It was his fault, it was, at least by his justification.

Maybe that’s what he was feeling, guilt. Guilt for prioritizing work over you, his wife, the person he should be completely enamored with. Guilt for not being there for you in your final moments. Guilt for never saying goodbye.

Maybe guilt is why he lays his head down on your desk, or maybe it’s the selfish need to not want to deal with his thoughts anymore. And sleep washes over him.

Coriolanus would’ve been perfectly fine, content even, with sitting at a table in the corner of the room. A glass of posca in hand, observing other people mingle and dance. And he would’ve stayed if Ms. Plinth hadn’t urged him to go dance.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to do formal dances he just despised them. Ms. Plinth was right though, stating that it would be a perfect place to find the wife he talks about so very much.

He goes through a couple of dances with… interesting people before he spots you. You sit at a table with a girl, a beaming smile on your face as you laugh at something the girl had just said. He makes a beeline to you, as nonchalantly as he can. Which is admittedly not very.

Once he gets there your friend gets up and gives you a look and nods her head towards him subtly. He has no idea what that means but hopes for the best.

“May I… uh have this dance?” He asks as you filck your eyes up to him. You hold your hand out to him and he lowers his head and takes your hand in his before bringing it to his lips, giving your hand a slight peck

“Sure, umm-” you look to him for his name

“Snow, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Coriolanus Snow.”

A waltz starts playing and you take to the floor. With one hand still gripping yours and the other resting on your waist where the torso of your dress ends and the skirt stops, he guides you through the dance. And you get lost in the steps and twirls, completing each step from muscle memory.

Couples dance around you and you seem to take in everything but him. But he is solely looking at you.

When your eyes do land on him his breath falters for a second, just as the music slows but he plays off his very obvious staring.

Once the music comes to a stop you thank him and curtsy, “Do you want to go have some fun?” You ask in a whisper just as he is going to send you off. Not that he wants to get rid of you.

“I- what do you mean?” he asks, his mind wandering.

You gasp, feigning insult. “Do you think me a common whore Coriolanus?” you place a hand on your chest, “I meant to wander the halls, visit the garden. Something other than being here.”

He nods and you slip out of the room and walk through the halls.

“You know I really do hate those events. They are one of the most boring things I have ever experienced. I usually just come for the food to be honest.” you ramble as you stroll through the corridors.

“Right?” he says “Also the amount of dances you have to memorize is lethal.”

You laugh, a sound that is like heaven to his ears. Just as he lets his guard down you pull him into a room and quickly close the door behind you.

“I think I heard someone coming,” you breathe out.

“That or you just wanted to get into a room with me alone,” he jokes “though I wouldn’t be completely against the idea.”

Your eyes, god your eyes, shift up to him. “Hm?”

“I said what I said.”

You move to peek out of the crack of the door and see a guard walking by. Once his footsteps fade away you slip out of the room and hurry down the hallway in a fit of muffled laughter.

The crunch of your footsteps ricochet off the hedges of the garden as you nibble a croissant that Coriolanus had snuck into the hall to grab.

“You eat very slowly,” he says, observing the pastry still in your hand.

“You eat like a starved man,” you say as of now you are taking larger bites, conscious of his words.

You and him find a seat on a marble bench under a tree that has draping limbs resembling the strands of a wig once placed on a mannequin that is not quite the right size. By now you have finished your croissant.

The remnants, he notices, are still resting on the corner of your lips.

His hand grips your chin and turns your face toward him. Your brows furrow and your gaze lands on his.

“What?” You question although it comes out as more of a nervous laugh.

He brings his other hand up to your face and swipes the chocolate from your lips.

“You had something,” he breathes. His hand still is resting on your face and a couple of moments of silence pass. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

His words send a rush of warmth down your spine, “so I’ve been told,” you respond in a breathy whisper.

Almost agonizingly slow, he leans into his face getting closer to yours every second, every breath.

Under normal circumstances this would be something Coriolanus would never do. Spontaneous and him don’t mix. But something about you makes him want to rush, rush everything. Just so you can be his.

Coriolanus wakes with a jolt. Quite literally as someone is shaking him out of his slumber.

“Mr. Snow, your supper has been prepared.” One of his maids say. Glinda, that’s her name, old but efficient in her craft.

“Thank you,” he dismisses her with his words along with a wave of his hands and gets up from the chair. Pain shooting up his back from the not-so-comfortable sleeping position.

He makes his way down the hall for a lonely dinner, the first one in days. One that he specifically asked for your favorite foods to be littered across the spread of the meal.

He eats listlessly, and makes his way back to your room.

He doesn’t bother to change into pajamas and just lays down and rests his head on the pillow that he prays will never lose your scent.

He nods off and falls into the dream space of you that will continue to torture him every night.

Now until forever.

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 ~ 𝚃𝚘𝚠𝚗

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍.

Word count: 1295

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛

Narrator's P.O.V:

The drive to town is peaceful, it always is. With the music playing on the radio and Aurora shutting up for once in her life it's basically heaven on earth.

But then you get into the town.

Don't get me wrong you love living so close to the capitol of the Fire Nation, the dense variety of people, the fresh food, the festivals, and just the culture in general, but it can get a bit chaotic at times. It's a very bustling place. People always seem to have somewhere they need to be immediately.

Today seems like a chiller day, the weather is perfect and people seem to be calmer than usual. There are only a couple of people that you can see from your line of vision, an older couple, a mom and two children, and an old man walking with a cane.

You park on the side of the street and pull your keys out of the car. You gather up all your stuff and place it in a tote bag you brought. You step out of the car and close the door behind you, walking over to Aurora.

"Where do you want to go first?" She asks while slinging a bag over her shoulder.

"We should go to the boutique," You respond. We can't exactly afford it but it's fun to see.

"Ok!" she responds eagerly and starts skipping towards the boutique, she's always loved the town and is practically begging you to take her every day, and we do end up going most days.

You pick up your pace to catch up to Aurora who is about a block ahead of you now and we come to a stop. You look up to see the familiar swoopy letters spelling out boutique in fancy cursive on the sign above the shop. Aurora walks into the shop and the bell dings above us as the door swings open. "Welcome in you two!" the shopkeeper says as Aurora briskly walks from dress to dress examining every single one with care, "Good morning Miriam," You wave at the older woman who runs the shop. She has gray thinning hair and a bony frame but somehow is still glowing in her old age.

"Any new shipments?" You ask while leaning against the front desk. Miriam has gotten used to our visits at this point and doesn't seem to mind when we don't buy anything.

"I got some new dresses for some of the girls to wear during the prince's choosing of his spouse." She shakes her head, "About half the girls in the city are going to be dressed up for him, the other half couldn't care less!" she lets out a small laugh at this. "I wouldn't either, I already told Aurora but being forced into a marriage isn't exactly as glamorous as the books make it out to be," You look back at Aurora who is now trying on different hats in the mirror. A smile spreads onto your face before you turn back to Miriam, "There's just so many factors that could go wrong. Not liking them, them being abusive, cheating. It's too much to even think about,"

"You're always looking on the darker side of things when it comes to a relationship Y/n, you're always such a bubbly person but when it comes to relationships you only think of the worst-case scenario, why?" She leans against the other side of the counter giving you a look that says even if you don't tell me I'm going to find out, she always does.

"Honestly I'm not completely sure, I've heard so many horror stories about guys who have done crazy things in relationships. One time a girl told me her ex snuck into her house and lived under her room in her basement for a whole month before they found him!" a hint of worry flashes across your face even thinking about that.

"You do know that those things don't happen as often as you think right? People tend to focus on the bad  things and lose the good along the way." She looks into your eyes before walking around the counter and placing her hands on your shoulders, "I'm sure that whoever you end up with will be great." She says with a reassuring look on her face.

You nod your head slightly and look up at her, "Thank you, Miriam." You say a small smile on your lips.

She lets go of your shoulders and turns to Aurora and walks over there to start talking to her. You tune out their conversation and go over to some of the dresses on the rack. You're flipping through them when a pearly white dress catches your eye. It's floor-length with bits of see-through fabric flowing down from the side and sleeves of the same material.

The dress:

(If you don't like it imagine something different.)

You pull the dress from the rack and walk over to the mirror holding it in front of your body. It is perfect, everything about it. It's the perfect length, color, fabric, everything. You do a spin still holding the dress to your body and the fabric flows like something from a storybook. You run your hands over the silky fabric before placing it back on the rack where you found it, sighing.

You turn away from the array of dresses and to Aurora and Miriam, Miriam holding a dark red dress in front of Aurora and looking deep in thought. A slight giggle comes out of your mouth at the scene when you see Aurora reaching for a completely different dress than is held in front of her. You make your way over to them and just stand to the side to watch the scene play out.

"No no no," Miriam scolds Aurora "this one will go better with your color palette." She knocks Aurora's arm back to her side but she raises it up again.

Aurora starts whining "But Miriammm, that one is prettier!" She points to a light blue dress and reaches out for it. "No, not for you." Miriam slaps her hand away again. You walk behind Aurora and put your hands on her shoulders, "She's right you know? That dress would look better on you." You peek out from behind her to look in the mirror. "Fine! Fine..." She mumbles begrudgingly.

After a couple more dresses are shoved in front of Aurora we tidy up the place and say our goodbye to Miriam, exiting the shop. You follow Aurora into an old antique store where we look around for a bit at different trinkets and other things. While we are in the shop you hear some girls talking about something that catches your attention.

"Who do you think the prince will choose to be his wife?" The girl on the left asks, she has long blonde hair and brown eyes and is wearing a gown.

Probably from Miriam's.

"Probably one of those stuck-up rich girls that go to school with us." The girl next to her says while rolling her eyes, they both look about 17. Too young to even get picked by Prince Zuko.

Before you can hear the rest of their conversation Aurora grabs you by the arm and drags you out of the store, mumbling something about the shop owner. You're not paying attention until she taps you on the shoulder aggressively obviously trying to get your attention.

"What?" You ask, whipping your head around to face her.

Oh god...

~~~~~~~~~~~♕♔~~~~~~~~~~~

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜:

Tumblr

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 - 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗? Warnings: none, A/N: this is not my work, my it’s my sister’s from Wattpad Narrator's P.O.V: Oh god... You tu

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜:

Tumblr

𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷 ~ 𝙻𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜…

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐚

𝑍𝑢𝑘𝑜

𝑆𝑜𝑘𝑘𝑎 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐽𝑒𝑡 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐿𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑑 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐿𝑒𝑜 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑧 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 100

𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑦 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑘𝑒 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐽𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑀𝑢𝑟𝑝ℎ𝑦 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝑇𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎𝑠 (𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟) 𝐸𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 (𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦) | 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐵𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑑 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎, 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦.

𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤

𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒂

𝑍𝑢𝑘𝑜

𝑆𝑜𝑘𝑘𝑎

𝐽𝑒𝑡

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏

𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛

𝐿𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛

𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑑

𝐿𝑒𝑜 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑧

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝟷𝟶𝟶

𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑦 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑘𝑒

𝐽𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑀𝑢𝑟𝑝ℎ𝑦

𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕

𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟

𝑇𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎𝑠 (𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟) 𝐸𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛

𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔

𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 (𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦) | 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟

𝐵𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐾𝑖𝑑 (𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤)

𝑁𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 | 𝑃𝑠𝑦𝑐ℎ𝑜

𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝒑𝒍𝒔𝒔𝒔, 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒚❅

•❅─────✧❅❆❅✧─────❅•

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔: 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕: 🥀 𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇: 🌷 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕:🌹

𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒔

𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆 🥀

𝐼𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔...

𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒖𝒎𝒔

𝑃𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔…