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underragingwaves · 1 year

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Rating: General Audiences Word count: 1.5k Warnings: none, save a reference to a canon character's death Written for: day one of the @vikingsevents Vernal Equinox event, which featured the picture prompt that I used in the above banner

The spring water is colder than she’d thought. If she didn’t know better, she’d say the riverbed is still filled with ice. So cold are the shards of earth and mud that slide between her toes this morning, so cold is the slush of water that pools at her shins.

Were she any younger, she would have squeaked in distaste and rushed back out of the water. Would’ve hoped then that uncle Ubbe was not around to see her do it, too, because he never held with such nonsense and would gladly have tossed her bodily into the river just to teach another lesson. Endure, he’d say to her again, gruff-voiced and flinty-gazed, or you will die.

She sucks in a breath. Holds it until the urge to squeal over the icy feeling abates enough to leave her lungs. Repeats her uncle’s words to herself as she slowly unclenches her fists. Endure or you will die. The flowers she is holding seem to multiply in her hands while they unfold, no longer suppressed by her tight grip, blossoming forth like the very first signs of spring.

Through the cold water she wades, past trees and shrubs that’re still deciding whether a new season is really here. She sees their deliberation in some of their sparseness – like holding a breath before plunging underwater, which uncle Hvitserk taught her better than anyone – and almost smiles as she spies the yellow-green flashes of trees determined to become. This grove matters in such a way. Her being here matters on this day most of all.

The shrieking of birds arrives in her ears. Caws follow it while soft hoots underpin the noise. There’s a song in the flutter of high warbles happening over her head, almost weaving through the crown of flowers that perches atop her head. She remains silent, as is custom. It is not far now.

It is as if the walk becomes easier as the river bends. The ground is higher here, easier than the pebbles she knows litter its banks, less muddy than where she began. The trees and shrubs almost seem to lean away from the water here, where the sky turns clearer overhead and it is not just her alone in the water anymore.

“Welcome, daughter!”

“She has come, she has come, she has come!”

Birdsong turns into voices, shrieks and warbles rise from words she knows, and the water that sloshes around her feet receives its answer in the splashing sounds that arise from the water’s edge. They are all clad in a multitude of colors, embroidery on their sleeves glinting golden and silver in the sunlight, and the leather that carries their many weapons is well-worn. So close are they now that she can see the difference between axe and blade, between shield and arrow’s sheath, between one knife’s curve and the other’s thin needleprick.

Calloused fingers pluck one flower stem out of her grasp before another’s slender fingers lift a green sprig from her hands. Arms wrapped in leather protections bump against the soft white of her dress’s sleeves, not quite touching her arms but not quite releasing her either. Again the call of she has come! rises around her. Again the splash and clap of water and hands accompany the drum of the stream itself.

“Who calls?” asks the smallest of the group. “Who comes?”

She holds her tongue with some effort, though she wishes to do nothing more than say it is me, auntie Amma, I have come in response to the dark-haired woman before her. Amma stands atop the great tree that changes half of the river’s flow. Effortless is her balance, small as she is, though she too has gone barefoot. Amma’s tunic is brightest yellow, so much so that even the myriad of flowers plucked out of her hands pale in comparison to it.

“One calls,” answers her mother, regal and unsmiling near the tree’s felled roots. “One comes.”

“Name the one!”

“My daughter, Gunnlöð” – and there is pride in her mother’s voice for certain – “first of my children.”

“Child of Kattegat with blood of the Vestfold, this is so,” affirm the women who’ve taken the flowers from her hands. Their voices weave into the thrum of the water that seeps and bursts through the branches of Amma’s tree. “Daughter of Ingrid, spirit-daughter of Gunnhild, sister to us all.”

“Why have you come, Gunnlöð Ingridsdottir, Gunnlöð Gunnhildsdottir, vår søster?”

“I was called to come!” Her voice rings out without tremor or delay. “Three days there were under the sun, three nights there were beneath the moon! Thrice I have journeyed in wake and slumber, wake and slumber, wake and slumber, until the river came upon me and my bird’s cry was not alone in the silence!”

“A hawk cried to us for three days and three nights,” speak the women, nodding and clapping their hands. “Alone it was with sharp beak, alone it raked its claws, alone it flew above mountain peak and vale. We would take it for a sister, we would take it for a friend, we would take it for a shield in our wall.”

Amma’s answering smile is fierce. “What say you, Gunnlöð?”

“I say you are my blood,” she smiles back, looking around the half-moon circle of women that has formed before her. Dark-haired, light-haired, flame-haired they are. Old and young, some with children on their arm or in their belly, all smiling now that they are here. “I say you are as dear to me as the water is to the earth, as all flowers are to spring air, as the fire that burns and calls us to battle. I am yours in honor and name, if you will have me.”

“I release you,” speaks her mother calmly, cradling her belly as though Gunnlöð is inside it still before she spreads her arms wide. “I ask the wider world to take you.”

“I am the wider world,” says Amma, “and through me my sisters speak. Blood-bonded we are in battle. I give them voice and fury”– and oh, how often it thunders through Kattegat when uncle Hvitserk gets into trouble again –“and I accept the release of Gunnlöð into the arms of earth and sky.”

Gunnlöð’s breath trembles from her lungs at the affirmation. “I will know no… no f-finer shield,” she says, swallowing back the tears that have arisen at her acceptance, “than the earth’s arms and the sky’s freedom.”

“You are safe! You are here! You are ours!”

The cries sound exalted even to Gunnlöð’s ears, far different from the warning notes and coaxing lilts that echoed in them before. Her fingers shake only a fraction as she raises her hands to her flower crown and lifts it off her head.

“Maiden,” smiles Amma.

“Maiden,” echoes in the half-moon circle that surrounds her.

Gunnlöð sets the flower crown atop the water. “Maiden,” she answers, tilting her chin up. “That I am, with shield in hand. That I am, with honor in my blood.” Her grin is fierce. Her hands are bare. “That I am, bonded to no man, bonded to my many mothers and sisters.”

The murmur travels through the women. “You are welcome here.”

“Finally!” roars Amma, to a burst of laughter from the younger women. “Come here, Gunna, little love”– says her aunt, crow’s feet wrinkling her eyes in good humor as she leaps down into the river –“you did so well!”

Gunnlöð’s cheeks flush with warmth at the praise, which is echoed in her mother’s careful nod before Kattegat’s queen turns away from the water. Undoubtedly her mother will sweep toward the feast, where her uncle Hvitserk is waiting and her many cousins are likely squabbling among themselves about such a wait, but that is something for a later time.

“A grown woman now, huh?”

Gunnlöð tilts her head slightly in thought. “I don’t feel different,” she admits.

“You will,” promises Amma, knowledge softening her eyes and voice even as the enthusiastic rallying cries of the women around them rise into the spring air. “You’re a shield maiden now. It is always different then.”

“What if it will not be?”

“Pfah, what did Ubbe say to you of fear? I swear,” laughs Amma, with a hitch of grief amending the tone, “I hear him in your voice every time. Like he is standing right beside us still.”

“Endure or you will die.”

“There he is. There you are.” Her aunt’s voice is steady as an axe’s blade. “He would be so proud of you, Gunna.”

She bites her lip until the first twang of blood coats her tongue. Raises her gaze to the tops of the trees, which blur a moment before she can blink back the tears. Her hand clenches around her aunt’s slender fingers until she feels the answering squeeze.

Endure, she hears in the water’s thrum, or you will die. Never stand alone. And, Gunnla, little love, comes her uncle’s voice as from a memory, never miss.

“We are always together,” she whispers as Amma’s hand squeezes hers again. “I forget all the rest.”

#vikings #vernalvikings #ingrid's daughter #amma #ingrid #urwfic

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twistedapple · 3 years

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Neve Bosconero - Snow White didn’t leave her home (part I)

Aaand here it is! The backstory I’ve been teasing for some months while secretly struggling to find the most suitable tone for it! I recommend you to check Neve’s playlist for the full reading experience - especially if you enjoy listening to background music while reading (check the #neve bosconero tag, I haven’t added to the masterlist yet but it’s been published two days ago so it should be easy to find)! This backstory is rather long so I divided it in two parts, this is the first one, the second one will be released at a later date (I’ll be taking a small break to reply to asks and handle my To Do list). And of course, feedback is more than welcome! This isn’t just a hobby, it’s actual training for me and readers’ opinions are needed to improve and experiment (especially since English isn’t my native language)! So feel free to comment either by reply or reblog so I can see what’s up and even chat up a bit (I also react to tags)!

Because of the heavy topics mentioned in it, I also recommend you to be careful while reading it.

Without further ado...

Neve was preparing the yarns of colourful wool she had carefully picked for her new haute-lisse project. The model had been placed behind the loom, and the shuttle was ready to be used.

She had a little story to tell.

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The story had two versions, yet both had the same beginning. A long time ago, back when the Valley of Thorns had yet to become, the border between men and fairies wasn’t as clearly defined as it was now. This lack of clarity caused the existence of a liminal space in which both men and fairies could interact, where magic itself seemed to gather and take curious shapes. The very first of those shapes was a set of twin apple trees, silver and gold, growing intertwined and bearing fruits said to have powerful magical properties. These trees were the central piece of a larger grove hidden in a large clearing hidden deep in the forest and overlooking an even deeper valley atop a tall cliff. They quickly fell under the protection of a group of fairies that could bind themselves to various trees. The second shape came from two drops, one for each of the twin trees, falling on old bones resting at their feet. As it came to life, it chose to take the form of an antlered, amber-eyed fairy with foliate hair, and started living among the trees and the shadows of the deep, dark woods.

Keeper of the forest, he would don crowns of oak and holly according to seasons and wear a mantle of greens that’d hide him from prying eyes. On the last day of the year, humans would pour a glass of milk to honour him who was known as the Green Man, for he had blessed the land and taught them how to grow and tend to plants from mere seeds. An agreement had been passed between him and the humans as well: the dark forest was his domain, and they weren’t allowed in without his consent. However, a human life is but a fleeting moment to a creature such as the Green Man, whose own life had been meant to be much longer. Thus, as time passed, the agreement became a story, then a legend before fading from memory – for a time. One unfortunate day, humans breeched the then forgotten agreement and started roaming the forest, appreciating the quality of its wood and the amount of land they could use to expand their fields. This angered the Green Man, it angered him so much he cursed the humans and their lands. For wanting to uncover the secrets of the dark woods, he sent shadows to stalk and route them out, for wanting to expand their fields, The Green Man ruined their crops, again and again, until there was no food left for the cattle, and then for the humans themselves - until they begged for forgiveness. They obtained it and order was restored – however the Green Man made sure that the agreement wouldn’t be forgotten this time...

At least, that is what humans tell. From the point of view of a fairy, about half of the story remains forgotten, and it all starts with the guardian of the orchard. See, the twin apple trees and their surroundings were tended by a fairy with ink black hair covered in apple blossoms. That fairy had taken the heart of the Green Man, and under the stars and the silver-gold light of the twin apple trees they had pledged their life to each other. By the time the agreement between Men and the Green Man fell into oblivion, humans had learnt how to wield magic themselves, and they started coveting the forest and its treasures again, though they were regularly pushed back by the Green Man’s beastly shadows, haunters of the woods that would assist him in its defence.

However, one fateful day a human child lost his way in the woods and happened to be found by the Green Man and the fairies. Tired and confused as he was, it was agreed to allow him entry so he could rest a bit, before being guided back out of the forest. The kind-hearted fairies took the little boy to the grove, where he discovered all the magical plants, chief among them the twin trees of gold and silver. Once the child felt better, the Green Man had him swear he would keep the existence of the precious grove secret before guiding him back to human lands. When the child came back, it was said that what felt like two days by the fairies seemed like two months for humans. His reappearance was deemed a miracle, and if he seemed to do his best to keep the secret, as promised to the Green Man, it still ended up being uncovered. The secret orchard had been found, and with it the especially precious apples from the twin apple trees. Confrontations between the fairy and groups of humans became more and more frequent, to the point even her found herself at a loss. The violation of the old agreement wasn’t the only thing that outraged the Green Man that fateful day when he cursed humans. Similarly, the newfound humility demonstrated by the humans wasn’t the only thing that had put an end to the curse. While commonly forgotten, the intercession of dragon fairies, fierce but wise, had contributed to the end of the deadly feud and a return of the balance between the worlds of Men and Fairies. This point in particular was the reason why, when the Draconia household started ruling what became known as the Valley of Thorns, a family of woodland fairies with a foliate face representing the Green Man as coat-of-arms was prompt to bend the knee and serve both as vassals and old friends.

That was the weight behind the name Bosconero.

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The shuttle was going through the threads at a quick pace, colour after colour, as Neve started humming in rhythm with her hands.

This story was only the beginning.

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Over centuries, the Bosconero Estate had grown. Born as an ancient place of worship, it became a place of habitation as well for the noble House, all nestled that it was between dense dark woods and steep cliffs. As time passed, walls were built – first to add further protection to the clearing, then for actual buildings. Lobed arches decorated with ceramics and delicately twisted columns, aging walls covered in ferns, ivy, jasmine and wisteria, an ornate wishing well in the middle of a cloister-like space, an open crypt and a large belvedere dominating the valley – and then there were the gardens and the greenhouse. A wonder in themselves, they held all sorts of plants, both native and exotic, both magical and purely decorative, a complete botanical garden organised like an ornamental garden, with plays on twists and turns, lights and shadows, organic from the plants and mineral from the various statues scattered everywhere. And in the middle of it all stood its crown jewel, the precious orchard with, at its centre, the twin apple trees of gold and silver, a nearby healing pool reflecting their light as if it was challenging the often gloomy skies of the entire Valley.

Neve knew all of its nooks and crannies, ornate tile floors, arched painted ceilings without a single sharp angle, white walls decorated with plants, tapestries and paintings... The main corridor was remarkable for its numerous family portraits, and Neve had taken the habit of observing each of them every time she passed through the corridor. The family had a peculiar tradition of accepting people in, rather than marrying outside, and of having an inclination towards a matrilineal order. Ink black hair would produce ink black hair, no matter the appearance of the one who gained the name Bosconero. Cat-like eyes would mostly be moss green and liquid blue as well. Mostly. This was when a break could be seen, with the occasional golden amber erratically cutting through time, a constant reminder of the founder of the family. It made itself known with her generation as well – the recent family portrait in the entrance showing a tall, masculine figure with rich auburn hair and bright blue eyes, a smaller feminine one with black hair and forest eyes, and then two even smaller figures that could have been a mirror of each other had it not been for these golden amber eyes. For the Old Blood running stronger in one of them.

A thought would often occur to her, the idea that maybe these ghosts from the past would leave their portraits at night to haunt the estate. It wouldn’t have surprised her, considering she never failed to feel their eyes burning her back when she walked down the corridor.

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In the Valley, spinning the wool was an affair for women, no matter their station. It was even how Crimilde had wished for a child and ended up with twins – a rare event among fairies, which lived longer than men and didn’t need to worry as much about the number of children they would and could have.

Neve kept passing the shuttle through the threads, with a skill honed through habit, and still humming.

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The Bosconero family valued its traditions, most of them either remnants of ancient rituals, or rites still alive. With all the customary events that would dot the life of a fairy to the rhythm of the seasons, they added up to scream what made the family what it was. The very first ritual had been made under the light of the ever glowing twin apple trees, a custom to bind the newborns to their respective tree. In a bowl filled with water from the pond at the feet of the trees, always glowing with their reflection, engraved twigs and thorns of various trees and shrubs were mixed, secret words were spoken, and the newborn would have one of its fingers pricked with the plant decided to manifest itself. Then, an oath in blood would be made with more secret words – a life binding oath. This rite was important, as it was also an act of divination – the bound tree informing about the path of the fairy. The ritual was conducted by the head of the family, and the Lady of the Yew, Crimilde Bosconero, made no exception.

That was how Bianca and Neve had been respectively chosen by the blackthorn and the hawthorn, how they had been set on their respective path in life – one for strife, one for protection. The secret words always spoke true – or so the family said.

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With a quick turn of the wrist, Neve would switch threads at great speed. It wouldn’t be her most colourful piece, but she still wished for some dimension in the composition. She’d dreamt of it, and for once it wasn’t as chilling as what she’d usually see – though the topic remained rather ominous.

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After the first ritual of their life, they had been presented to the Draconia family – another custom to show deference to the dragon overlords, and yet the only time the twins and the barely older Young Master really ever met. After that, years of preparations started for them, with three specific purposes in mind: to reflect their peerage, to be prepared for their future life both as Ladies and Magic wielders, and to develop their mind and creativity in a manner that’d promote a suitable Unique Magic.

In practice, Neve would show a consistent dedication to her work and progress, something the hired tutors never failed to report – and something Crimilde never failed to point out in comparison to her sister’s own devotion to irregularity. Yet, it was that very sister who would push Neve to always give so much of herself in everything she set her mind to. Bianca of the Blackthorn, Bianca and her golden eyes. Neve had many memories of the little things her sister would keep doing, her general distate for order and propriety always forgiven because of seemingly bottomless well of raw magic she would wield. Alone, these memories amounted to nothing – but there laid the trick, as added to each other, they’d slowly start looming, the tall shadow of a motherly figure who oversaw everything with an iron hand, and a prodigious sister raising like a wall next to her.

As time passed, Neve started feeling the weight of the situation in the way she pushed herself only to see her dear sister somehow manage to overtake her, despite always starting one step behind. These ever loud leaps and bounds felt like an unspoken formula to push Neve in a forgotten corner. When her singing was technically flawless, Bianca’s improvisations would end up attracting more interest. When Neve was capable of identifying heraldry and persons on the spot, Bianca remained the one who would quietly decline the identity of their mother’s interlocutors during events at the Estate. When their personal maid would brush their hair, Neve’s ink black curls would be compared to Bianca’s, yet the reverse never happened. No matter how much she would give, it always seemed to Neve that she was bound to fall short as long as her oh-so-perfect sister remained by her side.

Her mind slowly became her shelter, an untouched place that belonged solely to her, where she could push the bitter poison back when she started feeling overwhelmed; a place where she felt free from her mother’s and her sister’s shadows. There, she could spend hours absorbing what she’d been learning, what she’d been experiencing, to understand how to use it to her advantage. It was around that time she picked up sewing and weaving – a simple occupation at first, that quickly turned into a mean for her to express herself and to let the building poison out, stitch after stitch.

If her more public needle work was appreciated for its refined elegance and precision, a part of it was kept secret still - the part done at night, when she was too anxious to sleep, afraid of tomorrow and even more fearful of what her own dreams would offer. During that quiet time, it felt easier for her to explore and understand her own thoughts and feelings, let them out lest she’d either take it out on her family... Or even herself – that thought always left her with a sinking feeling in her gut, the dark impression that if she fell on that path, coming back from it would be even harder, if possible at all.

And then came the teaching of magic.

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Neve kept weaving, letting her thoughts wander and reach times past as the haute-lisse was slowly taking shape.

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A part of their life as young fairies was focused on their magical training as well, and this is where things would turn especially sore for Neve.

Their general education, especially its artistic components, served to promote focus and creativity, both elements necessary to produce and control magic, as well as develop a Unique Magic fitting their character. Everybody had their eyes on Bianca and her golden eyes – as expected. Yet, there was already few things in which Neve felt competent, next to her sister. Sewing was one of them, though mostly because Bianca showed little interest in the exercise – she seemed to favour books, potion ingredients and music. For that reason, sewing had become Neve’s thing, a reassuring shelter when her sister took too much place. A space where she wouldn’t have to hear her whisper first all the correct information to their mother’s ear at a party, where she wouldn’t have to feel the smooth inflexions of her singing, where she wouldn’t witness her elegant spells. She was her own ruler there, and would let her inventive mind overflow to become drawings and embroideries. If Neve couldn’t get her life with the support of her family, she’d weave it herself. Yet, that protective isolation also proved a double-edged sword that prevented her from seeing the cracks forming, early onset of a larger catastrophe.

The second most important ritual among woodland fairies was tied to the discovery of their Unique Magic. Once the young fairies had been sufficiently prepared through lessons and various activities meant to help them form their own magical quality, a ceremony was to be held by their family or caretaker in order for them to fully take hold of their magical abilities. When that day arrived for Bianca and Neve, it was yet again conducted by their mother, with the help of her newly hired assistant, Erico of the Elm – their father, Sigfrido of the Willow, would be absent for work, as always. The twins had been prepared for this moment, each step of the way carefully explained to them, since they’d be the ones conducting the ritual for themselves. Crimilde and her assistant would be there as witnesses and helpers in case of trouble, although the sisters had been certified that trouble never happened, since it was all about discovering one’s Unique Magic without pushing it, only defence was allowed to deescalate the situation and protect oneself if necessary – thus Crimilde had framed the ritual as an extension of their usual defensive magic classes. Bianca and Neve both had a set of alchemy tools, as well as the ingredients required. Led in a small building on the Estate, apart from the others and strangely windowless, the only way for the young fairies to see in the individual rooms they were respectively set in was with the help of faerie fires, dim gloomy lights meant solely to allow them to make their preparation, just like they had been taught.

Focusing on her task, Neve made sure to carefully prepare the potion, which looked like some sort of thick, dark liquid – so dark it felt like it was even swallowing whatever light was coming out of the floating faerie fires. Once the preparation was ready, Neve took the large brush they had both been provided with, and started drawing the symbols she had been taught on the floor, in the correct order and with decisive strokes. Then, she placed the set of candles – a profound black just like the preparation she had painted the floor with – all around to form a circle in the middle of which she knelt. Taking a deep breath, she lit the candles with a simple gesture, and the faerie lights went off automatically as the candles and symbols on the floor started shining in a manner that made them look like liquid glass veined with pulsating blood – her blood, she thought, as she gently clutched her bandaged hand. It was her last consideration before she found herself enveloped in a thick, numbing murk she hadn’t noticed. Reflexively closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, as if she was about to dive, and lost all notion of time and space in the process.

The noise of a door slamming made her come back to her senses. Realising she was laying down, Neve sat up, and took a look around. She was in a long corridor, with a series of seven doors peppering both sides – she had never seen such a place before. Getting back on her feet, she decided to see what that corridor had to offer – it wasn’t as if she had another way to go anyway. As she walked, she inspected the seven doors from a safe distance first – they were all different in design, and all closed. Stepping forward, the young fairy felt an uncontrollable, ice-cold shiver run down her spine. The corridor stretched and stretched, yet the doors always seemed to remain at their place, as if the whole, well, place was forcing her hand. As she stopped in her track, she started considering each door more carefully, trying to pick what seemed like the safest one. However, she promptly realised that it wasn’t about seeming, but feeling right. This realisation came to her as she approached a pitch-black, perfectly smooth door, save for the ornate handle. As her fingers were about to touch it, the impression of a dreadful pull started overtaking her every thoughts, while at the same time something deep down screamed at her to get away, as far as possible from that door. However, it was only thanks to a creak coming from the opposite side, at the furthest door, that Neve managed to shake away both the pull and the dread. Her attention shifted to the noise, and it seemed to her that a shadow had just passed through the now slightly ajar rustic wooden door.

As she went through the door, she found herself in a bright clearing, covered in thick, fresh grass. Further away, she could see the clearly defined shape of a cottage-like house, and a movement at the window left from the door caught her attention. Considering her surroundings for a few seconds, she didn’t feel any sense of danger, nor any sort of inner bell ringing the alert so far. Not wanting to be a sitting duck, she quickly moved along the small path drawn amidst the thick grass and went straight for the small cottage which seemed, oddly enough, her only way out. The heavy door let out a rusty creaking noise as she pushed on it. Inside, there was only the silence of a house that felt recently abandoned. Crossing the main room quickly, Neve decided to count the number of steps required to reach the staircase –even and she’d go left on the upper floor, odd and she’d go right. Neve often practiced these little games, it had been particularly useful to overcome her worry-fueled indecision and helped strengthen her resolve. Left she went, not sure of what she’d find, yet choosing to not chase after that elusive shadow she’d seen twice already. As long as she didn’t feel threatened or enticed in any way, Neve judged it simpler to let the shadow come to her first.

The young lady didn’t expect the corridor that served as her starting point to appear again, the same doors in the same order, though adapted to fit in the cottage – fit in as much as a corridor clearly too long for the house could. This peculiar setting led her to realise a now jarring detail that she had somehow missed the first time: the corridor had no defined end. As she moved, she noticed that the doors seemed to follow her, as if they’d always trail behind, the endless extremities of the corridor extending appropriately. The door she’d first picked was now closed, and rather than checking it again, she chose to pass it and its facing door on the right hand of the corridor, to open the next one. As she walked and passed in front of the right-hand door, she could hear a faint, regular clicking noise in it. However, her decision had been made, left, always left. With resolute steps, the fairy reached the next door and went through it.

She found herself on a scene, in a large room that looked like the emptied remnants of a theatre. Strange mists and fake trees surrounded her, and as she made a move to step away, a pitch-black, elongated silhouette suddenly slid right in front of her, making her jump in fear yet reaching out to silence her scream with a hand just as dark. For some reason, that touch was enough to help Neve settle down, which allowed her to take a look at the... The thing in front of her. It looked like it had tried to take a vaguely familiar humanoid shape, yet was there without really being there. As it took a quiet step towards her – it was more sliding than walking, really -, its body and arms became disproportionately elongated, its neck following the same path as it leaned towards her. When it spoke, the words didn’t came from its faceless head, but seemed to resonate gently through her whole body, an echoing whisper that felt like smoke.

- To find the way out, never look back. Beware of the Stagman, don’t trust the Black Hands.

- Wha – What are you?

- Help.

The strange shadow wasn’t there anymore, and Neve felt dread pile up in her belly as she observed the whole room. As she was about to take a step back, unwilling to take another step forward, the words the shadow had spoken rang in her mind. Realising she had no choice but go forth, she took a large gulp of air and swallowed her apprehension before going down the scene. To help gain some focus back, she reminded herself of the rule she had established – always left. And always up as well, she realised as she was off the scene. For some reason, the simple action of going down made her skin crawl. She hurriedly crossed the vast space meant to hold seats, towards the only way out.

From that point, it felt like a winding maze of strange corridors devoid of doors and windows and yet dimly lit. Neve kept walking, always forward, always left, always up. Nothing special ever happened, and her initial wariness insidiously turned to a disquieting boredom from the repetitiveness and gradual loss of her ability to guess space and time. That is, until she found herself in a new room, just as bleak as everything she’d previously seen.

There stood a masculine silhouette, all strength and bare feet and torso, with a hart for a head and dark blood slowly dripping from his shoulders – right where the stained, mated fur would be replaced by humanoid skin. The drops ran to his hips, where a long knife and a full quiver assorted to his hunting bow rested. Neve knew then what the strange shadow meant by Stagman. Both of them stayed still, held breath making the tension raise in the windowless room. There was no way out aside from the corridors on each side of the Stagman. Neve risked a small step forward, and he slowly reached to his quiver in return, taking a silent gliding step as well. Startled by the unexpected move, Neve stepped back and made the mistake to check behind her by reflex. No way out. The corridor by which she’d come had simply disappeared, replaced by a bit of wall similar to the rest of the room. Her attention came back to the Stagman, just in time to see him pull an arrow and nock it. The cold impression of a smile she couldn’t see yet knew was there, the smile of a creature ready to eat her up alive, pushed her out of her shock. Urgency of survival kicked in and she went for the closest corridor, using her small size and light weight to move as fast as she could. An arrow flew right past her, making her pick even more pace – as much as she could to escape. Behind her, heavy steps could be heard as the Stagman went after her.

Neve ran, her vision narrowing only to see forward, her train of thought locked in a loop as she fled across the windowless rooms and corridors. All she wanted was a door – and a door kept appearing, but not the one she wished for. It was the black door she’d passed from the start, the locked one that had left her with a bad feeling. Now, every time she passed it, it seemed slightly more ajar and she ignored it to save herself – until it wasn’t possible anymore. There it was, fully open and in a dead end. With nowhere left to run and the only option being forward, Neve gritted her teeth and jumped in the room. The door shut behind her and loud bangs resonated through the large room as the Stagman was slamming against it.

The new room was completely silent, a wide empty space with a ceiling so high it would be lost in the dark, and balconies that indicated the presence of floors yet had no stairs to access them. In fact, the room was distinctly devoid of exits. Feeling trapped, Neve decided to do the only thing left and explore the area. As she moved towards the center of the room, she started hearing faint noises, whispers. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and had the impression of being surrounded. As she made her approach and reached a more central position in the room, she started feeling the floor become unequal under her feet. Looking around her, she noticed irregularities in the walls and floor – they weren’t there before. The room was breathing, thousands of breaths coming from everywhere. That is when her mind, already on edge since the encounter with the Stagman, who could still be heard banging on the door, left room solely for panic.

The room seemed to feed on her fright, as the walls and floor started taking shape, humanoid forms pushing against a skin-like texture, making it look thinner. To Neve’s horror, the misshaped hands she could almost see through had an awfully dark tint to them. Beware the Stagman, don’t trust the Black Hands. The shadow’s warning came back to her, yet she had no way out and the cold realisation that she’d been trapped on purpose only resulted in dread weighting in her stomach. She tried to move away from the centre of the room, away from the evermore grasping hands, pushing on the surface like it was nothing. Something clasped around her ankle and started pulling with a strength her small body couldn’t fight against. Her voice, held tight by fear until then, sprung in action only to allow her a wail of terror as more hands started grabbing her.

Suddenly, a loud noise like a crack, different from the banging of the Stagman on the door, resonated throughout the room – no, the entire space, as if something from the outside was forcing its way in. The walls started crumbling and a vault made of stars fell over her, as she started feeling something warm all around her. A gentle embrace, holding her and rocking her as she heard the echo of her own scream in the room she’d been using for the ritual. Despite her desperate attempt to flee, Erico kept her close, using his own Unique Magic, Heart to Heart, to soothe her. Slowly, she calmed down and settled for loud sobs as the assistant’s magic left her mildly sedated. Once she was deemed safe to handle, he took her in his arms and brought her out, all the while apologising with a quivering voice.

- I’m sorry, Neve. So sorry. We should have suspected something like that would happen... No, don’t look there, look at me, it’s alright now.

Neve only caught a glimpse of it before Erico put her head back against him and took her away, but what little she saw was a partially destroyed building, her sister pale as death in a shining cage of glass and blood, blood everywhere.

The event of the ritual meant to help them produce a first shaped Unique Magic had ended terribly for both sisters. Bianca spent three hundred days in a deep slumber forcefully pushed on her by Crimilde, at first to stop the rampage she’d been causing, then to allow her to heal. Lady Bosconero did her best to focus on healing her wounds in a manner that would leave as little scars as possible – thankfully, Bianca seemed to have protected her face during the event, and thus it remained untouched. Meanwhile, Neve developed a fear of being touched, as well as darkness. Dismay regarding her sister also started being noticed once she’d been explained what had unfolded that day. It seemed that the Old Blood, The Gift, had made itself known at the same time as Bianca’s Unique Magic, mixing with it to turn the creatures she’d seemingly summoned into destructive abominations. Even worst, it had started sipping everywhere – even reaching out for Neve while she was exploring her own Unique Magic, poisoning the experience well enough to turn it into a living nightmare for the young fairy.

Once Bianca woke up in complete confusion from her magic-induced sleep, however, the family dynamics started shifting for a new balance.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #oc #neve bosconero #fairy tale #fairy tale rewriting #rewriting #snow white #sleeping beauty

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misssunflowersandsangria · 4 years

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Mine

Happy Day 4 of @shikakuweek ! I didn’t originally have a plan to write for today but I got hit by a burst of inspiration. There’s so much to explore in Shikaku/Yoshino’s relationship. I loved writing this story, I hope that you all enjoy it too. There are parts of this that reference the events from another story/chapter, “Meant to Be,” but you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on. My headcanon is that Shikaku and Yoshino knew each other when they were really little and she’s loved him since then. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy!

Prompt: Romance

Summary: He wasn’t bothered by it. Not at all.

Mine

“I don’t like her,” Shikaku repeated once again while his teammates looked at him unconvinced.

It was a typical evening out and his team had decided to spend it at their favorite restaurant. Yoshino and her friends had also been there and this led to the inevitable discussion about their relationship.

Inoichi stared at him with a challenge set in his eyes. “So you’re saying that if I asked her out, it wouldn’t bother you.”

Shikaku shrugged in response. “By all means, you wanna saddle yourself down to someone like her that’s your funeral”

To his surprise, the blonde man made his way over to her with a grin on his face.

“Hey Inoichi! How are you?” Yoshino greeted him warmly. She loved Shikaku’s teammates and she was forever grateful that they watched over him.

“I’m good, your future husband is being a nightmare.”

Yoshino smiled at the thought. “Why?”

“He said that he wouldn’t care if I asked you out, which we both know he most definitely would.” Yoshino laughed at the explanation, understanding Shikaku’s glare from the other side of the room.

“He’s still far too stubborn. It’s alright, I think I’m starting to wear him down.”

“How’s your medical ninjutsu?” The blonde asked curiously, feeling Shikaku’s cold stare on the back of his neck.

“Pretty good, why?”

“I might need it if he stabs me for this. Come on let’s get a drink.”

Disbelief and shock were keeping Shikaku restrained to his seat in the crowded restaurant. The look on his face caused Choza to worry about breaking up a fight.

“So you’re really just going to let this happen,” Choza asked his friend who had been silently stewing in his seat.

“They’re free to date whoever they want.”

Choza shook his head annoyed at his teammates. “One of your best friends slash teammate is asking out the girl that you won’t admit you love and you’re just going to sit here.”

“Yes.”

Choza dropped his face into his hands. “We’re doomed.”

“Why?”

“Because clearly I’m the only one with brains on this team.”

The rest of the night Shikaku just glared at them watching as she smiled and laughed in his friend’s direction.

‘What the hell could she be laughing at? Inoichi isn’t that funny.’ Shikaku grumbled to himself.

“Stop being so stubborn and go over there.” Choza tried to reason with him.

“I’m not being stubborn and I don’t need to go over there. I mean she’s obviously just being polite.”

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion.”

Shikaku’s mouth was pulled in a tight line. “Well, then it’s a damn good thing that I’m not jealous.”

Choza shook his head with a frown of disbelief. And yet Shikaku complained that Yoshino was the stubborn one. He threw back another drink. Tonight’s tab was going to be on them.

Yoshino swirled her drink, an uncommon look of defeat in her eyes. “It’s tough Inoichi. I don’t know if he’s ever going to want to be with me.” They had many conversations about his teammate and she appreciated how supportive he had always been.

Inoichi looked at her surprised. Recently, it felt like something had changed between the two of them. Even now she was wearing the hair clip that Shikaku had given her weeks ago.

“Where’s this coming from. Since I’ve known you, you’ve been on this path to becoming a Nara.”

“After he gave me this I honestly thought things would change. It’s been weeks and he feels even more distant than before. He hasn’t acknowledged my existence once tonight. We’re getting older, it hurts getting rejected all the time ya know. You know how stubborn he can be, if I keep pushing he’s just going to move further and further away from me. If I want any chance then maybe I need to back off a little bit.” She rested her head tiredly against his shoulder.

“Hey, he’d be lucky to have a girl like you.”

She’d been thinking about this for a few weeks now. Those precious moments in the cherry blossom grove seemed almost like a dream. It might be time to wake up. “He deserves the best, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him. Maybe though, that’s not me.”

Inoichi patted her head comfortingly, annoyed with his friend. “Don’t give up just yet. Come on, let’s get you home.” They made their way over to his teammates to say good night. Just being this close to Shikaku was breaking Yoshino’s heart.

“It’s getting late, I’m going to walk Yoshino home-“. Inoichi was cut off by Shikaku standing up to his full height.

“No problem. I’ll walk with her.” Shikaku announced moving to her side protectively.

Inoichi had to hide his grin. Shikaku was pissed. “It’s okay buddy, I’ve got it.”

“I insist.” He took her hand in his, leading her outside. “Come on Yoshi time to go home.”

Inoichi and Choza watched the couple leave with a smirk.

“Well, my work here is done.”

If Shikaku was as smart as everyone thought he wouldn’t let her go so easily.

It was a chilly, starry evening in Konoha. Shikaku instinctively pulled Yoshino closer to his side to keep her warm. Her hand was still clutched in his. He was purposely taking her the long way home and if she noticed she didn’t mention it.

“So, when are you two going out?” He asked curiously trying to keep the look on his face passive. He knew it probably wasn’t his business but he needed to know.

Yoshino smiled at him with a shake of her head. “Come on Shikaku he would never actually ask me out. Besides, he knows where my heart is. I would have never accepted.”

“Yoshino…”

Tears began to appear in her eyes. It was now or never. “Look, you know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you. I’ve held onto a lot of hope that we’d end up together eventually but maybe I was just trying to force my own feelings onto you and that isn’t fair. I saw how many girls were staring at you in there. You probably don’t realize it but they’re always watching you. I’ve just selfishly tried to keep you all to myself. But, I think that the best way to show you how much I love you is to let you go.”

Shikaku’s heart dropped, confusion clouding his face. “What? What are you saying?”

“Shikaku, I love you. I’ve loved you since you foolishly tried to defend me from those bullies then I knocked them out myself. But love without freedom isn’t love. So after tonight, I’ll keep my distance. I’ll give you space to find whoever it is that you think deserves your heart.” She reached up to kiss his cheek.

“Goodbye, my dear.” His hand lifted to touch where she kissed his cheek watching her walk further and further away from him.

“Wait!” Yoshino felt herself still seeing shadows trapping her in place.

“You can’t just say that and decide the future of our relationship like that.”

“What future?”

He paced back and forth trying to get his thoughts in order. “For years you’ve been telling me that we're supposed to get married, that you knew that we belonged together. Don’t I owe you trees in the forest? How can you just give up?”

Yoshino’s shoulders dropped in defeat confused by his frustration. “I don’t know what you want from me Shikaku. I can’t have anyone else but you. You’ve always said that us together isn’t possible. You could easily just walk away, leave me here and move on but I can’t do that. I’ll never be able to just stop my feelings for you but if I know that your heart is safe with someone that you want then I think I’ll be okay.”

He reached up to grip at his hair. “God, woman it’s you I want.”

Her eyes widened at the declaration “Shikaku?”

“I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. Time and time again you’ve offered me your heart and I just kept rejecting it but you stayed. I guess that I never allowed myself to believe that how you felt about me was real. I’m so sorry. Despite how I acted and what I might have said I think that I was selfishly keeping you tied to me. So that you would always be mine.”

He took a deep breath resting his forehead against hers. “All night I was watching you with Inoichi, really fucking upset and jealous. He’s one of my best friends and I wanted to knock him out cold because he got to see your smile. The one that I always work so hard to earn. I began to panic because even if it wasn’t him someone else could steal you away from me. Until tonight, I never imagined that could happen.”

A warm hand cradled her face, his thumb brushing away her tears. “Yoshino I love you.”

He felt her tears raining between them while they kissed his arms wrapped around her tight. He spent years denying how he felt, how much she meant to him and just how much he loved her. His demanding, beautiful, wonderful Love.

She gazed up at him with a watery smile. Her heart was whole and complete. “I love you too Shikaku.”

Yoshino hugged him tightly, her head resting against his heart. She shut her eyes tightly overwhelmed and relieved. He loved her. She had always believed that this was the path that their relationship would take but she wasn’t prepared for how wonderful it felt.

“Why are you still crying?” Shikaku asked worriedly, brushing her tears away. She reached up to kiss him, relishing in the fact that she could do so freely. He was relieved feeling her smile against his lips.

She curled into his chest, his strong arms wrapping her up securely. “I'm just really happy.”

A lifetime of shared memories ran through her head knowing they had many more to look forward to. He had been, and would always be hers.

Always: A Shikaku/Yoshino ficlet collection

My Dear

My Love

Meant to Be

Mine

The Yamanakas are the best wingmen. :D every incarnation of InoShikaCho is precious. I need more stories about the InoShikaCho daddies.

That’s all I’ve got for the week! Thanks for celebrating with me. I’ll enjoy seeing everyone’s submissions for the rest of the week. Thank you especially to @shikakunaras for moderating and a special shoutout to @temarihime ! Go read and love all their stuff!!! Love to everyone in the Nara Clan!

#shikakuweek #shikakuweek2020 #shikaku x yoshino #shikaku nara #yoshino #INOSHIKACHO #yamanaka inoichi #choza akimichi #day 4 #romance #fanfic #shikayoshi #shikayosh #jealous shikaku is the best #inoichi is the greatest wingman #choza is done with their nonsense

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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I Luv You (A CS HS AU)

Reader prompted CS High School AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are friends but Emma wants more. There’s miscommunication (Emma thinks he loves someone else), but ultimately a cute and fluffy ending. Available on FF here and AO3 here.

A/N: Hey all! I have had quite a few of you ask for more high school AUs for Emma and Killian, and my muse rarely trends in that direction. But, after many many months of trying to find a story that worked, I stumbled across this song, ‘I Luv You’ by Sofia Carson and R3MIX. One of the lyrics has been stuck in my head on repeat, and I’ve thought of how wonderful it would be to incorporate into a CS drabble. As such, this story centers around Emma and Killian meeting in their senior year of high school. Killian is new to their school, having moved from the UK, but they’ve instantly clicked and prom season is coming up. Emma wants to go with Killian, but she’s aware that he might not be over someone else from his past, then, because I’m addicted to fluff, it all turns out to be a great big misunderstanding. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Everything’s going to be fine. I can handle this. I can get over him. Maybe? Someday? Oh God.

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Emma shook away the anxious thoughts that had clung to her for weeks. She didn’t want to linger in them, but she couldn’t let them go. Everywhere she went they followed, and there seemed to be no reprieve. As a result, she was a stressed-out mess, and her ability to hide her feelings was growing weaker and weaker by the minute.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Ems,” her friend Ruby said casually from where she was perched on Emma’s kitchen countertop, eating directly out of a tub of Ben & Jerry’s chunky monkey.

Ruby’s legs dangled as she swiped the last of the ice cream from her spoon greedily. She’d downed a full carton just this afternoon, the calories and sugar rush a non-issue. Emma knew if she tried that her mother would probably have a fit, but Ruby could get away with anything in the Nolan house. Emma’s parents had adored her since Emma and Ruby’s first day of kindergarten all those years ago when Ruby announced to the class that Emma was her ‘bestest friend’ and anyone who messed with her was ‘gonna know her wrath.’ At age five Emma had no idea what that meant, but to this day her Mom and Dad adored Ruby. She was loyal and courageous, and she’d lived up to her promise, proving to be the best friend Emma could ask for.

“I’m not worried,” Emma replied, but the declaration was hollow and lacked conviction.

“You’re gonna need to work on your acting, girl,” Ruby said with a sigh and a sad headshake, as if Emma’s attempt at seeming okay was just pitiable. “But seriously, all this stressing is for nothing. Killian is totally going to ask you to prom. He’s gonna swoop in with everything but a white horse, tell you he loves you, and steal your heart.”

“Ruby,” Emma whispered, chastising her friend but without much conviction. She wanted to reprimand Ruby for her fanciful ideas, but she couldn’t form more words in the face of someone stating exactly what she dreamed of.

“And honestly, it’s about time. You’ve been dancing around each other for ages. I mean I love a good slow burn, but this is just ridiculous.”

It certainly felt like Ruby was right, but Emma knew better than to believe that. No matter how many butterflies might take flight within her every time she saw him, or how many times her thoughts drifted to the handsome boy who’d become one of her closest friends, Emma knew that the feelings in her heart were one sided. Killian was in love with someone else, a girl back where he was from who he’d known before moving here. She still had his heart, and so Emma never could. She only wished that everyone else understood, maybe then they’d stop always talking like the two of them being together was a given.

“You’re one to talk. Dee, asked you to prom literally months ago, before prom was even announced.”

“Of course she did. She’s my girlfriend. Plus, she wanted to lock me down. I’m a hot commodity, as you well know.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby’s antics. Her best friend loved to talk a big game, but since meeting her girlfriend, Dorothy, last year she’d been nothing but the picture of fidelity. She was smitten as could be and very much in love, but Ruby was determined to be considered a ‘wild child’ and Dorothy, or Dee, as everyone called her, was only happy to oblige.

“Okay well new rule, happily coupled off ‘besties’ don’t get to tell the single one not to worry.”

“Ugh, fine. But only because I love you and you used the word ‘besties’ with only limited sarcasm. I’m totally wearing you down.”

Emma bit back a smile and shook her head, but she was grateful for the out Ruby provided her. It wasn’t her friend’s natural instinct to walk back her opinion, and it showed Emma how much their friendship mattered to Ruby that she’d even try to do so.

“Also, I may or may not have agreed to be part of a conspiracy meant to distract you and then guide you to an important event that I cannot actually tell you about because I swore myself to secrecy.”

“Come again?” Emma asked, totally confused even as her pulse began to beat in faster time. Secret plot? What the heck was that? And why did she feel like it involved a certain hot, charismatic, and irresistible boy she could never stop thinking about?

“Wish I could explain, but that’s the whole thing about swearing yourself to secrecy, you kind of have to mean it. Mums the word, or whatever people say.”

“Ruby, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything except for making one teeny tiny little promise.”

“And that promise was…?”

“To make sure you stayed right here until…” she glanced at the time on the stove and smiled, “Now. All right, two minutes from now, but still. You get the drift.”

“Ruby, I don’t understand.”

“Emma,” Ruby said taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it gently, “You know I would never steer you wrong, right? I can’t get into it, but let’s just say there’s a reason I’ve been promising you that everything for prom would work out.”

Emma took Ruby’s words in and did the simple math: Ruby had been telling her not to worry about Killian asking because she knew he was planning to. He had told Ruby somehow, convincing her to help him with this surprise, and Ruby had agreed. It made Emma’s heart thump loudly in her chest over and over again, but then dread crept in. He was going to ask her to prom, but it was going to be a friend asking a friend. Somehow that was worse than not being asked at all. It would mean being so close to what she wanted, but still so painfully far away.

“Killian,” Emma whispered, her lips not daring to utter more than his name as the nerves took over.

“Yes, Killian,” Ruby said with a gleam in her eye, hopping off the table and straightening out Emma’s hair and her outfit like a personal stylist with a critical eye. “Don’t worry, you look totally kick ass, and so my work here is done. He’ll be here any minute, and I think it’s best if I get out of here before he does. Wouldn’t want to stifle any moments with my ever-present wit.”

Emma stood there in shock, watching her friend grab her bag and sashay out of the kitchen. Emma heard her retreating footsteps and barely managed to all out “Wait, Ruby!” before the front door closed. Ruby was gone, having departed the scene in a haste on par with that cartoon roadrunner she used to watch as a kid.

For a moment Emma warred with herself about what to do. She wanted desperately to wait here and to let him ask her. Maybe it would be more than a friend asking a friend. Maybe something had happened with the girl back home. Maybe he was free, free to love her, to choose her, to want her back… but then again maybe her greatest worries were exactly right. Maybe the nagging voice in the back of her mind that said something so perfect could never work out was correct. Either way she panicked, choosing self-preservation over facing what may come.

Leaving everything behind, Emma snuck out the sliding back door, breaking out in a run from the porch and heading into the thick grove of trees behind her home. There was a well-worn walking path that headed deep into the woods, and Emma knew it well, well enough to veer off of it and find her way to the one place she could imagine any kind of comfort at a time like this – the meadow.

Not far from her house there was a private glen that ran along the river, out of the way of any foot traffic that may come through the bramble of these woods. Emma had found it as a child, and for some reason no one ever seemed able to find her there. She could get lost for hours in that grove, enjoying the sun and the flowers and the sound of running water coursing by. It was close to home, but felt lightyears away and in that glen she could be anything and anyone. Her imagination was free there and her cares were far away. It was her special place, the one she never shared, the one she kept so close to her heart it felt like only hers. But then, on a whim, she’d brought Killian there, and though it was scary to do that, he’d reacted in the perfect way.

“It’s otherworldly, Emma. I can understand your love for this spot. I can think of no better place that I’ve ever been before.”

Emma held back tears as she approached this little oasis, knowing that it wouldn’t hold the answers that she wanted. Instead it would likely just remind her of Killian, and all that she wanted but that they just couldn’t have.

The closer she got, however, the more Emma realized that something was different. It was early spring, but she saw bright colors from afar. They were similar to the wildflowers that bloomed in May and June, but it was too early for them. Only when she got closer did she realize what was happening. The flowers here were real but were not wild. They were an assortment of every kind of blossom she’d ever loved and they had been placed by someone, filling the space in an attempt to recreate the most magical moments this meadow had to bring.

It dawned on her that no one would know to do this but Killian, and as she got closer Emma felt the tears brought on by his sweetness. By the time she was at the meadow’s edge, tears were streaming down her face, and she didn’t bother wiping them away as her hand came over her mouth.

There must be thousands of flowers here, and Emma had no idea how he could have possibly done this. Where would he even find so many flowers? And how could he have time? It would have taken him all day to do this, and so much longer to think of it. This was so much effort to go through for a friend, it almost made her think that she had to be wrong. He must feel the same. He must –

“I had pictured this going a little differently,” a voice said and Emma whipped around to see Killian, looking at her with a warm smile. He was genuinely glad to see her, but the bashfulness on his face was unmistakable and it made him look even more handsome. That earnest feeling mixed with seeing him dressed up, well it drove her a little wild, but she didn’t dare to move, waiting for him to approach her instead. “But I should have known you’d find your own way. You always do.”

“Why?” Emma asked, and Killian’s brow furrowed before she elaborated. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Because you deserve nothing less,” he countered, taking her hand though his blue eyes stayed locked on hers. “I did this because I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a very long time. I’ve gone back and forth about when and how. I wanted it to be right, but I couldn’t decide how. It’s just – well it’s complicated. Us being friends, it’s amazing and I’ve never had someone in my world like you, and I was afraid I’d muck it up, so I…”

He trailed off, his hand scratching behind his ear in a show of embarrassment and Emma swallowed down the hurt as best she could. She had been right. This was a prom proposal based in friendship, nothing more. He didn’t feel the same. He didn’t want her. He was just kind and good and perfect and he wanted to give her a lovely memory even if he couldn’t give her his love.

“Emma Nolan, will you -,”

Before he could get the words out Emma interrupted him, afraid that if he asked she’d break down in front of him and give herself away. This was a nightmare right now and she couldn’t bear it. “Killian… I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Before he could respond, she sprinted back towards the house, tears falling as she raced through the backwoods. Through the haze of her adrenaline, she heard him call her name, and then she felt his hand on her arm, halting her, holding her steady.

“Emma, love, I don’t understand. Have I done something? Is there…” his voice grew fraught and tense. “Is there someone else?”

“Of course there is!” she exclaimed, “But not for me. For you!”

“I don’t understand,” he replied, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Of course you don’t,” she said, a sad laugh emanating from her as she waved her hands in dismay. “I love you, Killian.”

“I love you too,” he replied immediately, and she shook her head.

“No, not as a friend. I love you. Like for real.”

“Emma, I feel the same way about you. I’ve been trying to tell you forever, but every time I tried you shut me down.”

“I had to,” she cried out. “Because you’re not over her.”

“Over who?”

“Merida.”

“Who?” he asked, sounding completely unaware of the name of the girl he loved.

“You know, the girl Liam’s always reminding you about.”

At the mention of the name Killian still looked confused and then he laughed. Wait, he’s laughing? Why is he laughing? This is serious! Before she could get angry though he pulled her to him, distracting her with his nearness as the sound of his voice washed over her.

“God I could kill my brother for this, but I haven’t got the time. Emma, ‘Merida’ is not some long-lost love I’m pining away for. She’s a seventy-six-year-old Scottish woman who used to be our neighbor.”

“Oh.” What else was there to say? Clearly she’d been an idiot.

“The only girl I’ve ever pined for has golden hair, jade colored eyes, and a bit of a temper.”

“Hey, I don’t -,” Killian interrupted her with a kiss she never saw coming, but that Emma immediately melted into. How could she fight with someone when they could do this instead? God it was perfect, everything she’d ever dreamed of, and even more he loved her! He’d said he loved her right? Oh please let her have heard that right. She waited when they broke apart, hoping he’d reiterate the words she’d always craved.

“She’s also brilliant and beautiful and bold. She’s kind and honest, fair and good. She’s always looking out for the people who she loves, and by God when she smiles at me, it’s like heaven itself made just for me.”

Emma looked at his face, searching for any trace of deceit, but there was none. He was pouring his heart out to her and laying it all on the line. It was just what she’d always wanted.

“I love you, Emma. I knew I would from the moment that we met. It’s you Emma. The girl I can’t get over is you, and I have no plans of ever trying. You’re it for me. I know we’re young, but I don’t care because -,”

This time it was her turn to pull him for a kiss, and she couldn’t help herself. After months of wanting him, he was finally hers, or maybe he had been all along. It felt so good to finally have this, to know that the dream she’d been waiting for was even better than her imagination could fathom, and only when they broke apart did she realize what this meant.

“Oh my God I messed everything up,” she said, hiding her face in his neck in embarrassment. “You tried to ask me to prom in the most romantic way and I ruined it.”

“I wasn’t planning to ask you to prom, Emma.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, love I was asking you to be mine, just as I’m yours. But as for ruining things, surely you must know you never could,” he said, his fingers running through her hair as he gazed at her adoringly. “You’ve made this the best day I’ve ever known. You told me you loved me. You let down the last bit of wall that was separating us. Everything’s been said now. There’s no secrets, no more doubts. You know my heart and I know yours. I couldn’t ask for more. And as for prom, if you want to go then we’ll go. I want to be wherever you are, Emma. For me it’s just that simple.”

“I want that too,” Emma said, kissing him again and feeling the lightness and joy that came with love that was reciprocal and true. After all the heart ache, they were together, and Emma knew their love would be forever. No matter what may come, or where they went from here, they were just meant to be. Always had been, always would be.

And though they spent the next few hours surrounding themselves in their newly found bliss, they eventually concurred that prom was a must. After all, Ruby would kill her if she didn’t go, and with Killian by her side it was bound to be a night she’d always remember and never forget.

…………….

You the type of guy to write a song about You're laid back, nobody know what's on your mind We been talking for a while now (We been talking for a while now) And I been falling for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

You the type of guy to tell your mom about You're laid back, but running circles round my mind I been falling for a while now (I been falling, I been falling, I been falling) But you been lying for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you (I can't get over you)

I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

Post-Note: So there we have it. I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble, and to my lovely readers who always ask me for more bisexual Ruby representation, I had you guys in mind with this one too. I know it’s a very short feature, and I am usually very committed to the Ruby/Graham pairing, but I’m happy to share the love for everyone that I can. I wish the show had developed a lot of these characters and relationships more, but hey, there’s always fanfic! Anyway, thank you all for reading and hope you have a great weekend!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs #cs au #cs ff #cs fluff #cs hs au #captain swan high school au #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #ouat au #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #i luv you #i luv you cs #prompted fic

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saladbarselectionmenu · 4 years

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Amadaria awakes from the dream by force the dawn after nightmares attack, confused and disoriented she spends a week comatose with the other sylvari forced to awake early.

Caithe and the mender who help her with her early awakening (emeric) are massive forces that influence her life, along with the other sylvari who live in the kennels raising hounds once one of her escape attempts actually sticks after shes considered well enough to actually be out of the menders gardens.

Sweet and honest and almost terrifyingly determined to see people stop fighting and reach peace, Amadaria wields diplomacy like most people wield a sword - quickly, accurately and most importantly cuttingly. Her wyld hunt is more than to just kill the Elder dragons - it is to help, to Fix. an unending burden with no defined answer that wears away on her year after year.

The Event X

Awakening fic under the cut!

On ao3: X

Waking is a burst of light. Young lungs struggling. Confusion and dizziness. The world tilts as the ground rushes to meet you.

Waking is the bright gold of the sun, a hazy smear to new eyes painting bright and gold over mountains and marsh land. Vivid pink dusting over wispy white clouds in a brilliant blue sky as day spreads across the world.

Waking is brief and confusing, cold and disorientating. Yelling reaches you. The light fades as you sleep again - drifting, untethered.

Amadaria lurches to awareness with a startled yelp. Confused, dizzy and only half coherent she tries to stumble from where she’s laying before hands grab her shoulders and ease her back. “Woah there!” a voice she doesn't know - not that she knows many, “Careful, you shouldn't be moving yet - shouldn't even be awake! You’re going to be a stubborn one aren't you?” The voice tinges with amusement towards the end. Her eyes trace the hands, wrists, arms, to a smiling, kindly face. Bark like skin and honest eyes, purple-red leaves swept back from his face haphazardly.

“Who-” she blurts, “wait! Wheres Caithe! Is she okay? What happened to the dragon? Are the other dreamers alright?!” she rushed, half in a panic and pushing weakly against his hold.

The other sylvari barely seemed to register that she was pushing at all - a grounding squeeze of the shoulders his only real acknowledgement from where he was knelt by her bed.

“Breathe,” he soothes, “my name is Emeric and I am a mender. You are within the menders gardens - have been for nearly a week in fact. Caithe is somewhere here in the grove, she is fine. The nightmare attack on the dream was rebuffed, the rest of the dreamers who were forced awake with you are here.” She calms hesitantly as he talks, eyes flicking back and forth over his face in search of a lie. As the tension creeps from her back and shoulders he releases his grip on her. “Well done,” Emeric rumbles, voice deep and clear “How much of what happened do you remember?” Amadaria blinks up at him, eyes wide but clear for the first time, “We were in the dream, like we always are. Then… Dogs? These big beasts like Sweetpea but all black and covered in thorns, they looked like hurting and they were hurting everyone else!” her brows furrow as she stills, looking down to her hands, “then, someone like a dreamer who wasn’t, that Caithe lady, she saved us? She came to help. Told us to run and asked for any who would to help, but.” He waits a moment, then gently prompts “But?” “There wasn’t really anyone left - three of us maybe?” she whispers, hands going to her lap as if to grip something and stalling over empty space. “Everyone had run back - into the dream past Ventari or-” she stumbles, becoming quieter then. Her shoulders turning in and head ducking down “or they’d died already.” Silence descends back over the small ward then, as Emeric considers her and Amadarias small form remains curled over itself, gripping the soft lichen blanket in tight fists.

Emerics touches the tips of his fingers to the back of Amadarias clenched fist, “Sapling,” he coaxes, “not everything was lost to the Nightmare. There are other dreamers who awoke with you here, remember?”

Surprised she looks up to meet his eyes then swings her head to look around the room rapidly. Sure enough a handful of other beds - five she can see, six including hers - with sleeping sylvari lay in the room. Chests rising and dropping in peaceful sleep, each one alive. “They're okay?” she breathes, swinging her head back around to his to lock eyes, “they’re going to live?” Emeric chuckles gently and pats her hand, “Yes sapling, they will live. Thanks in no small part to your effort I'm told?”

Amadarias glow flares bright amber across her face and over the dotted patterns in her hair, leaves poofing out like the startled fur of a mammalian cat.

“I- Well! I mean that was mostly Caithe right? She called for help and I just, just answered.” she stammered.

Emeric gives a heartier laugh then, “But answer you did! I’m sure the other dreamers will thank you for it, when they awake naturally.” He stands then and fetches quickly a bowl of - something. Whatever it is, the dream hadn’t shown her.

“You’ll need to eat this - all of it.” he says, passing the bowl to her along with a spoon. Inside is some kind of paste made from a honey coloured syrup and pale blossoms.

“What is it?” she questions, poking the mixture with the spoon and watching it glob and stretch like honey.

“It’s blossoms and tree sap - specifically sap from our mother. It’s the same thing all sylvari grow in before we awake. All of you will have to eat it until you can reach where you should have been when you would have awakened naturally.” he unhooked a clipboard from her bed and flipped over a sheaf of paper that had been hung on her bedside noting something down while she watched, “it’s the same thing we’ve been feeding you all as you slept this past week.” Head tilted and curious she spooned some of the mixture into her mouth and chirped a sound of delighted surprise.

“It’s good!” she enthused, beginning to eat it properly and depleting the bowls contents rapidly.

Emeric smiled over at her, clipboard still in hand as he fiddled with the pencil. “Most people with a sweet tooth tend to find the taste pleasing, yes. It seems you’re one of them. It will replace the magic you should have been getting from the dream and the mother for now.”

He sets the clipboard down with a click and takes the emptied bowl from her as her eyes start to cloud and droop, blinking rapidly to try and clear them with a muzzy noise. An amused breath escapes the mender as he helps her sit back against the bed again, “The rest of your examination will have to wait, sapling. Sleep safely.” It's the last thing that reaches her as the world slips away once more.

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ascalonianpicnic · 5 years

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writing up a timeline for Lace since they’re overdue for one and there were some things I needed to sort out anyway. it’s long and it has spoilers for pretty much everything so I’m sticking it all under the cut

1304 - The second born sylvari all emerge. Lace is one of the younger of the group, born during the dusk cycle with the name Lucillous

1305 - After a few months of learning to use their magic, Lace grows restless and leaves the Grove. They wind up in Divinity’s Reach and become popular among the richer members of society. Sylvari are still rare and they make a small fortune off of this fact as an escort for over 2 years.

1307 - Lace enters into a serious relationship with a young woman who was not a client but was friends with many who were. During the relationship, at her prompting, they shorten their name down to Lace, at first as a nickname, but then as their actual name in later years. After half a year, she dumps them pretty harshly.

1308 - Lace returns to the Grove after the breakup, and begins training with their magic again, working towards becoming a proper mender.

1309 - Lace begins to hear the call of their wyld hunt. They follow it, taking with them a young engineer and a young ranger. During a small battle with some risen, the engineer’s flame turret malfunctions and explodes. Lace is caught in the blast and nearly dies. When they wake up, their connection to the dream is weaker, and their wyld hunt is gone. They assume they failed at their hunt and are being pushed away by the pale tree because of that. Once they have recovered enough, they leave the Grove again, joining the soundless

1310 - Lace returns to Divintiy’s Reach. They move into a small apartment and live off of their savings from their first time in the city and the gifts piled upon them from old clients. They also make some extra money doing odd jobs that just sound fun to them. They spend the next 4 years doing whatever they want.

1314 - Lace meets Braith. Braith encourages them to get help for the addictions they’ve developed over the past few years. He supports them through it and the two start dating.

1315 - Lace moves out of their apartment and in with Braith. Things get bad for Lace.

1320 - Braith is arrested on one count of kidnapping when the seraph find a young woman screaming in his basement. Lace knows of more but doesn’t testify. Braith is sentenced to 10 years in prison. Lace is left to try and put their life back together again alone. They start picking up odd jobs and sleeping with people for money again.

1321 - Odd jobs turns into favors for friends turns into a blossoming little illegal business. If Lace can’t do a job themself, they’ll find someone to do it for you without it connecting back to you. Over the next couple of years, they get their feet under them, manage to build a life for themself, and really get this business going. Their range of skills and contact both grow at an impressive rate. They remember they have some savings left from their escort days as well, and go to reclaim those.

1323 - Lace meets Iovara Durand, a teen who has just lost everything. They lend her a hand and offer her a job until she can get her feet under her. Lace and Io become fast friends.

1324 - Word of a crime lord known as the grey king begins to spread. Lace has a laugh at the name, but feels accomplished in the fact that they’ve become so well known and successful. They get an office in Lion’s Arch, and end up spending most of their time there.

1325 - Personal Story starts. Lace stumbles across a warden named Carys, and lends her a hand in finding her mentor, Tegwen. Io drags them along to Claw Island. They go on to help form the Pact with her, Imekaari, and Trahearne, turning down the title of commander and instead letting it go to Io.

1326 - Zhaitan is defeated. Lace builds a house in a remote location with a view of the Brand. They set up a permanent portal between their office and the basement of this new home. Living World Season 1 begins.

1327 - LW Season 2 begins. They have their first conversation with the pale tree since having left 18 years ago after the summit, but due to her injuries, the conversation is cut short. They speak with her again when she gives them the memory seeds. Not much is said, but before Lace leaves, she tells them she is proud of them. They pursue Caithe, worried for her safety, with the help of Io and Imekaari.

1328 - Heart of Thorns begins. Lace secures Aurene’s egg, bringing it to Tarir. When the team reaches Rata Novus, Lace opts to stay behind with Taimi to avoid Mordremoth’s call. While exploring the city, they accidentally walk too far out and succumb to the call. During the final battle, while Io is inside the dragon’s mind, Lace leads a party of mordrem in an attack against the team. They come to upon the dragon’s death, kneeling over Imekaari’s bloody, unconscious form. Io somehow manages to drag them, Imekaari, and Trahearne out of the jungle to get medical treatment.

1329 - After a solid month of treatment and observation to make sure Lace isn’t still a danger, they return to their actual work as a criminal, throwing themself into it as a distraction from the events of HoT. They meet up with the others again when Taimi calls them all to Rata Novus to discuss some of her findings. During the visit, Lace finds out that Trahearne has been pushed to retire, the official reason being his injuries. The position of Marshal is then offered to Lace, who turns it down like they did for the title of commander. Io and Imekaari both leave the Pact as well in order to stick with Lace and Trahearne. They hang back with Taimi while Io investigates Bloodstone Fen, but join up with the team again to help at Ember Bay. While working to prevent the volcanic eruption, Lace receives a vision of the egg in Tarir. They leave Io to finish up at the volcano, and go to check on the egg alone, protecting and naming Aurene. After spending time with her, Lace gets a call from Taimi. Io is busy with family business, so they trek up to the Shiverpeaks to investigate the icebrood and look into Taimi’s theory of using the dragons against each other. They swing by Eir’s home to check in on her recovery, and pick up Braham and Rox on their way north. After getting the information they were there for, Lace leaves Braham and Rox to meet back up with Io, who has asked for some help with white mantle attacking her home. After taking down Caudecus, Lace is forced to restrain Io, who has become seriously corrupted by bloodstone, until she collapses. Imekaari is quick to take care of her until she can be taken to a proper medic. Lace, Imekaari, and Trahearne take a break and work on fixing Caladbolg while Io recovers. Once Io is back on her feet, Taimi calls the team in to show off her completed device for dealing with the dragons. Lace follows the team to Draconis Mons, but does not enter the volcano with the others due to their fear of fire. After Balthazar disappears, Io gets in touch with the shining blade to track him down, and Lace heads home to go back to work until they’re needed again.

1330 - Path of Fire begins. Lace joins the others to travel to Elona to find and stop Balthazar. Things go well until the Departing, when Io is killed by Balthazar and Lace nearly dies too. Imekaari is able to just barely save Lace, and Io manages to bring herself back. After the team faces and defeats Balthazar for good, Lace heads home, skipping out on the celebration in Amnoon to instead get some rest. Upon returning home, they run into Braith and end up getting kidnapped.

1331 - Early one morning, during the Festival of Four Winds, Imekaari hears a knock on his door. He opens it up to find a battered, half dead looking Lace being supported by an unfamiliar ex mordrem by the name of Cue. Lace refuses to see any other medics, and Imekaari spends the next couple of weeks getting them patched up and upright again. Cue joins the growing crew that has been forming around Io in place of the Pact. Lace is back in the field sooner than they or Imekaari would like when A Star To Guide Us starts with a call about Aurene. Lace goes to check on her, and tries to lend as much of a hand as they can while still healing. They opt out of hunting down the burning sword that impaled them, but join for the journey into the mists, staying with Blish while he replaces the battery in the tracking device with a spare Io was carrying. The two manage to survive the dragon and make it back to Tyria intact.

1332 - Finally healed up at the start of All Or Nothing, Lace is avidly against Glint’s plan to have Aurene face off against Kralkatorrik. They don’t like the idea of risking her life on this, but with the crystal dragon eating its way through the mists, there isn’t time for another, better plan. They work with Aurene and the team to set a trap and swing the battle in their favor, and all seems to be going well. They think they have Kralkatorrik beat, but Lace is still on edge after all of the visions Aurene had. They see the dragon, which should be defeated, shift, and quickly jump in front of Aurene, throwing up a stone wall to try and protect her. Aurene and Lace are found after the battle, side by side, surrounded by rubble and impaled on crystal spears. Both are barely breathing. Aurene remains stable but is in bad shape. Imekaari puts Lace on mandatory bed rest while they heal. Lace is using this time to get to know Imekaari better, and to share their history with him.

#my characters #lace's tag #why yes i did spend hours typing this up and fact checking #and getting distracted by the gw2 wiki #all for my own reference #lace has lived a long life and been through a whole lot in that time

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gadgetgirl71 · 3 years

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Top Ten Tuesday 19 January 2021

Welcome to this weeks Top Ten Tuesday. Originally created by The Broke & The Bookish, which is now hosted by Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week it features a book or literary themed category. This weeks prompt is:

Books I Meant to Read In 2020 but Didn’t Get To

(You could take this opportunity to tell us what’s left on your seasonal TBRs from last year. Or books you were super excited about and then you didn’t get to them.)

A Springtime Affair by Katie Fforde

It’s the season of new beginnings for Helena and Gilly.

Gilly runs her own B&B business from her much-loved family home, which she doesn’t want to part with – at any price.

But that’s before she meets handsome estate agent Leo, and soon she begins to wonder whether selling up might not be such a bad idea after all.

Meanwhile Gilly’s daughter Helena has a budding romance of her own. A talented weaver, she’s becoming very close to her new landlord, Jago, who’s offered to help her at an upcoming craft fair.

It’s what friends do, and they are just friends. Aren’t they?

With spring in full bloom, Helena and Gilly begin to ask themselves the same question:

Might their new loves lead to happily ever after?

Breathless by Jennifer Niven

Before: With graduation on the horizon, budding writer Claudine Henry is making plans: college in the fall, become a famous author, and maybe–finally–have sex. She doesn’t even need to be in love. Then her dad drops a bombshell: he’s leaving Claude’s mother. Suddenly, Claude’s entire world feels like a lie, and her future anything but under control.

After: Claude’s mom whisks them away to the last place Claude could imagine nursing a broken heart: a remote, mosquito-infested island off the coast of Georgia. But then Jeremiah Crew happens. Miah is a local trail guide with a passion for photography–and a past he doesn’t like to talk about. He’s brash and enigmatic, and even more infuriatingly, he’s the only one who seems to see Claude for who she wants to be. So when Claude decides to sleep with Miah, she tells herself it’s just sex, nothing more. There’s not enough time to fall in love, especially if it means putting her already broken heart at risk.

Compulsively readable and impossible to forget, Jennifer Niven’s luminous new novel is an insightful portrait of a young woman ready to write her own story.

Meet me in London by Georgia Toffolo

What do you do when your fake engagement starts to feel too real…

Aspiring clothes designer Victoria Scott spends her days working in a bar in Chelsea, and her evenings designing vintage clothes, dreaming of one day opening her own boutique. But these aspirations are under threat from the new department store opening at the end of her road. She needs a Christmas miracle, but one is not forthcoming.

Oliver Russell’s Christmas is not looking very festive right now. His family’s new London department store opening is behind schedule, and on top of that his interfering, if well meaning, mother is pressing him to introduce his girlfriend to her. A girlfriend who does not exist. He needs a diversion. Something to keep his mother from interfering while he focuses on the business.

When Oliver meets Victoria, he offers a proposition: pretend to be his girlfriend at the opening of his store and he will provide an opportunity for Victoria to showcase her designs. But what starts as a business arrangement soon becomes something more tempting, as the fake relationship starts to feel very real. But when secrets in Victoria’s past are exposed will Oliver walk away, or will they both follow their hearts and find what neither knew they were looking for…

Our Story by Miranda Dickinson

Otty has just landed her dream job. She’s about to join the writing team of one of the most respected showrunners in TV. And then the night before her first day, she’s evicted from her flat.

Joe has been working with Russell for years. He’s the best writer on his team, but lately something has been off. He’s trying to get his mojo back, but when his flatmate moves out without warning he has other things to worry about.

Otty moving into Joe’s house seems like the most obvious solution to both their problems, but neither is prepared for what happens next. Paired together in the writing room, their obvious chemistry sparks from the page and they are the writing duo to beat. But their relationship off the page is an entirely different story, and neither of them can figure out why.

And suddenly the question isn’t, will they, or won’t they? It’s why won’t they?

An epic and modern love story for our times, we will all see ourselves reflected in Otty and Joe. We are our own biggest barriers and this novel explores what happens when we get out of our own way. And it is glorious.

The Summer Villa by Melissa Hill

Three women. One summer reunion. Secrets will be revealed…

Villa Dolce Vita, a rambling stone house on the Amalfi Coast, sits high above the Gulf of Naples amid dappled lemon groves and fragrant, tumbling bougainvillea. Kim, Colette and Annie all came to the villa in need of escape and in the process forged an unlikely friendship.

Now, years later, Kim has transformed the crumbling house into a luxury retreat and has invited her friends back for the summer to celebrate.

But as friendships are rekindled under the Italian sun, secrets buried in the past will come to light, and not everyone is happy that the three friends are reuniting… Each woman will have things to face up to if they are all to find true happiness and fully embrace the sweet life.

An epic summer read about food, friendship and the magic of Italy, perfect for fans of Mary Kay Andrews and Susan Mallery.

A Home from Home by Veronica Henry

Sunshine, cider and family secrets…

Dragonfly Farm has been a home and a haven for generations of Melchiors – arch rivals to the Culbones, the wealthy family who live the other side of the river. Life there is dictated by the seasons and cider-making, and everyone falls under its spell.

For cousins Tabitha and Georgia, it has always been a home from home. When a tragedy befalls their beloved great-uncle Matthew, it seems the place where they’ve always belonged might now belong to them…

But the will reveals that a third of the farm has also been left to a total stranger. Gabriel Culbone has no idea why he’s been included, or what his connection to the farm – or the Melchiors – can be.

As the first apples start to fall for the cider harvest, will Dragonfly Farm begin to give up its secrets?

Ask Again, Yes by Mary Beth Keane

How much can a family forgive?

A profoundly moving novel about two neighboring families in a suburban town, the bond between their children, a tragedy that reverberates over four decades, the daily intimacies of marriage, and the power of forgiveness.

Francis Gleeson and Brian Stanhope, two rookie cops in the NYPD, live next door to each other outside the city. What happens behind closed doors in both houses—the loneliness of Francis’s wife, Lena, and the instability of Brian’s wife, Anne—sets the stage for the explosive events to come.

Ask Again, Yes is a deeply affecting exploration of the lifelong friendship and love that blossoms between Francis and Lena’s daughter, Kate, and Brian and Anne’s son, Peter. Luminous, heartbreaking, and redemptive, Ask Again, Yes reveals the way childhood memories change when viewed from the distance of adulthood—villains lose their menace and those who appeared innocent seem less so. Kate and Peter’s love story, while tested by echoes from the past, is marked by tenderness, generosity, and grace.

Behind Red Lips by M R Smith

Her confidantes are a rubber duck and a diary she calls Rajah. She tiptoes on the edge of the love cliff, but to her an imaginary love life is safer than taking the plunge with a real one. She dreams about men who remind her of her long lost love, Mason, yet when she bumps into him she panics and runs away.

Her heart crushed by a long-ago betrayal, Charlotte cannot find happiness unless she confronts the ghosts of her past and deals with the realities of the present.

This touching love story wends its way through the ups and downs of Charlotte’s life as she tries to deal with her emotional problems and find a way to heal her broken heart.

The Fountains of Silence by Ruta Sepetys

A portrait of love, silence, and secrets under a Spanish dictatorship.

Madrid, 1957. Under the fascist dictatorship of General Francisco Franco, Spain is hiding a dark secret. Meanwhile, tourists and foreign businessmen flood into Spain under the welcoming promise of sunshine and wine. Among them is eighteen-year-old Daniel Matheson, the son of an oil tycoon, who arrives in Madrid with his parents hoping to connect with the country of his mother’s birth through the lens of his camera. Photography–and fate–introduce him to Ana, whose family’s interweaving obstacles reveal the lingering grasp of the Spanish Civil War–as well as chilling definitions of fortune and fear. Daniel’s photographs leave him with uncomfortable questions amidst shadows of danger. He is backed into a corner of difficult decisions to protect those he loves. Lives and hearts collide, revealing an incredibly dark side to the sunny Spanish city.

Includes vintage media reports, oral history commentary, photos, and more.

The Women at Hitler’s Table by Rosella Postorino

Inspired by the powerful true story of Margot Wölk, this is a heartbreaking and gripping historical novel for fans of The Tattooist of Auschwitz and The Beekeeper of Aleppo

East Prussia, 1943. Hitler hides away in the Wolfsshanze – his hidden headquarters. The tide is turning in the war and his enemies circle ever closer. Ten women are chosen. Ten women to taste his food and protect him from poison.

Twenty-six-year-old Rosa has lost everything to this war. Her parents are dead. Her husband is fighting on the front line. Alone and scared, she faces the SS with nothing but the knowledge every bite might be her last. Caught on the wrong side of history, how far is Rosa willing to go to survive?

Until next week.

#JustForFun, #Top Ten Tuesday, #TopTenTuesday, #TTT

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banshee-cheekbones · 7 years

Photo

and we’re back with round two! like it says on the tin, this is a complete list of what I’ve written between the beginning of April and the end of June!

some statistics:

total number of fics: 67

total number of fandoms: 12

total word count: 75,925

most common pairing: Malia/Kira and Betty/Veronica are both tied with four fics a piece!

and now, for the fics!

American Gods

a conversation long overdue. Audrey/Laura. 1615 words. Rated T. ao3. “You know, it didn’t have to be Robbie. It could have been you, just as easily, if you’d been the one to pick up the phone. If you’d been the one to come over and deal with the fucking cat.”

energetic praise you wanted. Bilquis/Media. 250 words. Rated M. ao3. "Oh, honey," she says, words ghosting over Bilquis' swollen flesh. "I'm afraid that isn't going to work on me."

rage looks good on you. Audrey/Laura. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "You are the most selfish bitch in the entire universe."

Borderlands

a high degree of caution. Lilith/Mad Moxxi. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "You know, this is definitely on the list of things most people don't screw around with."

Crossover

Intermission. Allison Argent (Teen Wolf) / Jo Harvelle (Supernatural). 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "You know, I could have taken that vamp on my own."

Gotham

a little healthy competition. Barbara/Tabitha. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "I bet that I can make you come before they finish their set."

Hannibal

Decoy. Alana/Margot. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. For the time being, using Will as a decoy is the best option available to them.

once, twice, three times. Beverly/Molly. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. Beverly has never been much of a believer in the concept of soulmates.

Jane Got A Gun (2016)

weak spot (everybody has one). John Bishop/Vic Owen. 1248 words. Rated M. ao3. “If you cannot hold your tongue, I will cut it out of your head.”

Logan (2017)

change of plans. Donald Pierce/Logan. 3655 words. Rated T. ao3. When Logan refuses to give Pierce the girl, Pierce decides to tell him a secret.

how to fall through the cracks. Donald Pierce/Logan. 3245 words. Rated M. ao3. Pierce and Logan have met before, in an El Paso bar in the early hours of the morning. Logan just doesn't remember.

threat assessment. Donald Pierce/Logan. 5268 words. Rated M. ao3. Pierce and Logan have met before, in an El Paso bar in the early hours of the morning. Logan just doesn't remember.

Pierce, on the other hand, remembers everything.

Power Rangers (2017)

comfort above all else. Kimberly/Trini. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. "Are any of those clothes yours?"

no sign of movement. Kimberly/Trini. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. "Trini," she says for the eighth time, "we're going to be late if you don't move."

the thing that lives in the dark. Rita Repulsa/Trini. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. All small towns have their own sets of tales, their own legends passed down through generations. Angel Grove is no different.

Wrong Number. Kimberly/Trini. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. A little miscommunication with the boys means that Trini and Kim have half an hour to themselves.

Preacher

Sacrilegious. Emily/Tulip. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. Emily is fairly certain that what she's doing counts as an act of sacrilege.

Riverdale

an unspoken promise. Betty/Veronica. Rated G. ao3. Veronica has been given enough jewelry in her life to recognize a necklace box when she sees it.

Betrothal. Cheryl/Polly. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. The footsteps stop on her left, and when she glances left through the netting of her veil, she's met with a glimpse of vivid red hair. It belongs to a Blossom, there's no doubt about that, but it's the wrong Blossom.

do you do more than dance? Betty/Cheryl. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. Cheryl Blossom is dancing on a table in a fire-red bralette and pleated skirt, and she won't stop staring at Betty.

feels like the first time. Alice/FP. 3380 words. Rated E. ao3. On a hot summer night by the shores of Sweetwater River, after senior year comes to an end, Alice and FP find a moment of bliss.

find a home for your love (home isn’t always a place). Alice/FP/Fred. 5407 words. Rated E. ao3. Sometimes, a threesome isn't just a threesome. Sometimes, it's a plea for something more

hit me (where you want it). Betty/Cheryl. 250 words. Rated E. ao3. Cheryl doesn't know where the cane originally came from, but she does know that Betty knows how to use it.

Hitch. Betty/Cheryl/Veronica. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "Let Veronica eat you out."

how to keep a secret. Alice/Hermione. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. Hal has no idea that she's been intermittently fantasizing about Hermione Lodge since high school.

just keep your eyes on me. Betty/Veronica. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. It's not that Betty is afraid of heights. Really. She's not.

one day (i’ll kiss it all away). Betty/Veronica. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. Veronica is thirteen when she starts feeling her soulmate's pain.

peel it all back. Alice/Hermione. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. At initial glance, Alice Cooper's entire life is the definition of neat.

running interference. Alice/Hermione. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. The supply closet of the White Wyrm is not made for make-out sessions.

somewhere in her smile. Hermione/Mary. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. "We could be like them," she says, lowering her gaze to where Mary's fingers are clasped in her lap. "Like FP and Fred. If you wanted to."

stages of healing. FP/Fred. 1509 words. Rated T. ao3. FP’s hands have been scarred for as long as Fred can remember.

vow of silence. Betty/Veronica. 250 words. Rated E. ao3. "We have to be quiet."

Supernatural

savor the present. Anna/Jo. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. The last time Jo saw her, Anna was 19. The time before that, she was 32. Next time, she might be 70 or 4. There's no way to predict.

Stress Relief. Meg 2.0/Ruby 1.0. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. "Get yourself a new meatsuit?"

swallow it down. Meg 2.0/Ruby 1.0. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "Sex pollen? Are you kidding me?"

Vacation Plans. Castiel/Dean. 965 words. Rated M. ao3. Written for the prompt “cas/dean - cas walks in on dean jerking off OR vice versa :D."

Teen Wolf

a day in the sun. Peter/Stiles. 494 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. Peter can think of about a dozen different places that he'd rather be off the top of his head, but it was Stiles' turn to pick where they went for their weekly Saturday date, and as much as Peter likes upsetting traditions, there are some things that he simply can't be bothered to go against.

all the amenities of home. Allison/Kira/Lydia. 1879 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr. Established polyamory, sex tapes, masturbation and facesitting.

any way you want it (that’s the way you need it). Malia/Kira. 2429 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr. Malia wants to know how to make Kira feel good. The obvious solution is to watch her masturbate.

Begin Transmission. Derek/Stiles & Isaac/Scott. Completed WIP. 26 chapters, 11 added since first quarter. 55,178 words total, 19,346 added since last quarter. Rated E. ao3. After the events with the alpha pack and the darach, Stiles is thrust into his new role as the emissary for Scott’s pack. It’s a demanding position, one that requires years and years of study.

bite down, bite down (into me). Allison/Stiles. 1036 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr. Allison Argent is the furthest thing from a werewolf, but you wouldn’t know that from how eagerly she sinks her teeth into Stiles’ flesh.

Cold Comfort. Laura/Lydia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. The scream tears Lydia out of sleep, rips her out of a dream that she immediately forgets.

Comfort Food. Malia/Kira. 414 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. Malia is standing in front of her locker, one hand crumpled into a fist at her side, the other clutching a sheet of paper that's nearly torn in half. There's a deep dent in the door of the locker, so deep that Kira is surprised the metal didn't completely break. Malia's breathing is loud and uneven, and Kira approaches her slowly, not wanting to surprise her.

Contentment. Braeden/Kira. 544 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. Braeden's never been particularly fond of sharing her things with others, but for almost five years, Kira has been the exception, particularly when it comes to clothes.

Exchange. Braeden/Laura. 500 words. Rated G. ao3. Breaking into Hale Industries is a cakewalk.

Firelight. Kira/Lydia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. The slur in Kira's voice is soft but distinct, and Lydia glances down at her tipsy girlfriend, who is stretched out with her head in Lydia's lap.

hiding in plain sight. Erica/Kali. 500 words. Rated T. ao3. "Should have left town when you had the chance, Kali."

it comes seeping in (when you close your eyes). Allison/Nogitsune. 1328 words. ao3. The other girl’s eyes, her eyes, are very black, impossibly black, and when Allison stares at them, she has the distinct feeling that the ground underneath her feet is tilting, that she’s about to fall into a deep hole that she’ll never be able to claw her way out of.

just the two of us. Boyd/Erica. 2431 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. The one where Erica gets a cold at college, Boyd comes to take care of her, and love confessions happen.

make some noise. Laura/Stiles. 527 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr. The real reason she'd opted out of the trip was because of Stiles, because she wanted to be loud in her own bedroom for once.

Nightcall. Parrish/Stiles. 1680 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr. Jordan can count on one hand the number of times he’s worked a quiet night shift since moving to Beacon Hills.

(Or, the one where on-duty phone sex is almost a thing, but a collapsing shelf gets in the way.)

nothing but sun and sand. Malia/Kira. 1210 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. On the first day of their week-long vacation, Kira and Malia share a moment of quiet down by the ocean.

only oceans can separate us. Cora/Lydia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. "You should get to bed soon, babe."

put the past behind you. Lydia/Malia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. "I know this is weird for both of us, and I know you don't wanna talk about it. Do you wanna get drunk and make out in the bathroom instead?"

rate your pain. Allison/Stiles. 438 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you think this is going to hurt?"

ripped to shreds. Laura/Stiles. 386 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr. And, also like her, he wants to rip off Kate Argent's head.

sands of time. Noshiko/Marie-Jeanne & Allison/Kira. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. In the 900 years of her life, Noshiko has had relationships with more people than she can count.

seasons change (but people don’t). Malia/Kira. 2340 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. The one where Malia hates airports but is willing to brave the chaos so that she can finally meet Kira in person.

sway. Allison/Malia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. Malia is never drinking again.

sync up the cuts (to the bass drum kick). Laura/Stiles. 581 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. Watching Laura perform is like watching a tornado decimate a town.

Territorial. Laura/Kali. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. “I thought I told you to get out of my territory.”

the best girlfriend ever. Allison/Stiles. 636 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. “I really hope this doesn’t look as ridiculous as it feels.”

Tighten Up. Allison/Erica. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. "How much time do we have until the game is over?"

Total Control. Allison/Scott/Stiles. 312 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr. Allison takes his left wrist, while Stiles' thicker fingers take his right, and as they start winding the scarves (or at least that's what they feel like) around his wrists and the headboard, it becomes clear just how flimsy the fabric is, how easy it would be to tear through it.

The Walking Dead

a loud awakening. Daryl/Jesus. 453 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr. His fingers skim over a sun-warmed hip, and he cracks open one eye just long to see Jesus looking down at him with an amused smile on his face, hair loose around his shoulders, bare-chested with a mug of coffee in his hand.

a steady decline. Andrea/Michonne. 250 words. Rated G. ao3. Andrea is getting sicker.

getting caught (ain’t always a bad thing). Daryl/Jesus. 918 words. Rated M. ao3 & tumblr. When Jesus wakes up to an empty apartment on his day off, he decides to use his time in the shower for other purposes.

Proximity. Beth/Carol. 250 words. Rated T. ao3. While the days are growing longer and warmer, the interior of the prison is still cold, especially at night.

#mine #mine: masterlist #twfemslashwritersnet #twfemslashcreatorsnet #when compared to last month i wrote more fics but word count was less #we shall see how the third quarter goes!

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pandoa · 1 year

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Hi!!! Can I request yellow pansies and anemones in a balcony theme for Jamil? Thank you!!

Yellow pansies ~ “they love me, they love me not. they love me, they love me n—” “what are you doing?” “GAH!”

Anemones ~ “just take my hand. don’t you dare second guess yourself”

~jamil viper x gender neutral reader~

the moment i saw the balcony theme and anemones prompt i immediately thought "ALADDIN A WHOLE NEW WORLD SCENE-" AND I'M JUST SDJNJVDV THE PERFECT WAY TO END THIS EVENT, THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING <3

♡shining, shimmering, splendid!♡

He was perfect. Way too perfect, actually. What kind of man was just too good at everything?

It was to the point where it drove you absolutely crazy. Every step he made caused your heart to flutter hoping each step would be an inch closer to him standing right beside you, every mention of his name made you helplessly lift your head thinking you and him were in the very same room, every word he said to you was another word you would place high on a pedestal as if it were the most enchanting sentence your ears had ever heard. He had lucid locks of hair your hands had only dreamed of running themselves through. Skin as smooth as silk that sent electrical shivers down your spine with just one simple touch of his skin on yours. His dancing lyrical, his mind intelligent, and his soul beautiful.

You were in love with Jamil Viper. And you were nearing the verge of insanity if you did not find out if he had felt the same.

Days would seem to pass in no time at all—mainly because you would constantly be dazed with your mental consciousness never present at all—and it regrettably began to influence, not only your emotions, but the life lived around you as well. You could no longer keep still, your mind always drifting off into never-ending daydreams, friends concerned for your health, and your heart needing a definite answer before it exploded into a million pieces. Which was why you were there now, leaning on Ramshackle’s antique balcony, pulling at the dainty petals of a flower you had picked on your way back to your dorm after class. This had to be settled once and for all. In the name of your ever-pounding heart.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” your hopeful muttering played through the trees and grassland residing at the bottom of your balcony, each petal you gently picked off gracefully gliding down to touch the greenery as it twirled and spun in the wind. Going up to Jamil and directly asking him about his own feelings was obviously not an option in these circumstances; that was simply too bold for your taste. So, you had resolved to the next best thing for determining someone's romantic emotions: using flower petals to predict your crush’s feelings.

Plucking another petal off of the delicate flower, you sighed wistfully as a gentle breeze began to comb through your hair, “He loves me, he loves me n—”

“What are you doing?”

“GAH! J-Jamil!” Upon hearing the calm voice of the Scarabia second year, your body jumped up in surprise as you hid the flower you had been holding behind the small of your back. Lifting your gaze up to face him, however, you had noticed something off about the way Jamil’s figure had slowly risen up and down as if he were flying in mid-air. That’s odd, you curiously thought, I don’t see a magical broom with him anywhere?

“What brings you here…floating on a…” a small pause cut your sentence as you looked over the balcony’s railings only to see a familiar piece of tapestry-like cloth hovering over the air—confusion plaguing your voice as you turned to look the boy directly in the eye, “magic…carpet? What the heck, Jamil?”

Jamil, softly clearing his throat, attempted to avoid eye contact as a hesitant hand shot up to nonchalantly cover a part of his face. For whatever reason, it had seemed like he was embarrassed—for what you did not know. You were too focused on hiding a burning blush on your end to notice the also red tint creeping onto the vice housewarden’s cheeks. Trying to continue on with what he had come here for, Jamil finally gained back some of his composure and looked back at you, “I noticed that you seemed…quite stressed this past week and thought that you could use a moment to clear your head. So, I borrowed Kalim’s carpet and headed straight for Ramshackle. Apologies for scaring you, though. That, I did not plan.”

“What do you mean?” you timidly asked, heart still palpitating miles and miles each second Jamil’s gray eyes had bore into your own.

“I’m taking you with me to relax.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” you watched as Jamil had shifted his position to get a better angle before reaching his own hand out to latch onto yours. “Here, just take my hand. Don’t you dare second guess yourself,” he said as the sun over Ramshackle’s balcony reflected onto the shining gold accents of his charms and bracelets—causing him to glimmer brighter than any star you had ever seen, “And don’t worry either.”

“You can trust me.”

a/n: and then reader and jamil ride off into the dramatic sunset singing "a whole new world" throughout the entirety of nrc until jamil finds out kalim tried to cook again and jamil's little date is interrupted because he doesn't want the housewarden to burn down their whole dorm <3

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twst jamil #jamil x you #jamil twisted wonderland #jamil twst #scarabia #gender neutral reader #blossom grove prompt event

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kuriquinn · 7 years

Text

Prompt/Request: Sasuke’s おめでとう

Anonymous said:

im so excited that you're taking requests because I love everything that you write!!!😇 could you maybe write the recent ss moment with the hawk and what sasuke was thinking

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Somehow, it’s right that she be the one to convey his congratulations to Naruto. She is the warmest, most genuine person he knows, and if anyone can best convey his feelings about Naruto’s nuptials to the loudmouth, it’s the woman who probably knows him the best in the world.

Rating: K

Warning: Spoilers for pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.

Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during the Blank Period.

AN: Originally, this was just meant to be a quick drabble in response to a prompt and meant to honour of the last episode of Naruto Shippuden. But then my brain decided to put some more details in, and we got this little one-shot. Enjoy.

Not attending Naruto’s wedding is one of the hardest decisions Sasuke has had to make since the end of the War.

It’s a mark of how much he has changed in his years of wandering that he not only recognises this fact, but also continues to feel conflicted about it long after he’s made the choice. In the past, he made decisions and simply moved on—what has been done cannot be changed, after all—but for once, his personal feelings have a place in his rationalizations.

That’s also new.

Sasuke has never wanted material or arbitrary things. His desires have always been firmly rooted in goals: aiming to surpass his brother and to be acknowledged by his father, to avenge and restore his clan, to destroy the village that destroyed his family…

Not until he left his home the second time with a barely deserved pardon did he have a chance to experience the world outside of his own ambitions.

He learned to appreciate a warm bed and sleeping long past sun up. The satisfaction of playing with a stray cat or eating food for pleasure instead of only sustenance (he apparently has a weakness for bitter, dark chocolate that he never even realised).

And for the first time since he can remember he wants things.

He wants to read a book for leisure, and not because it might hold some long lost clan secret or technique. He wants to travel to as many places as he can and see if the sunset looks different in Iwa than it does in Konoha. He wants to climb a mountain just to breathe the crisp air, instead of seeing it as a stepping stone to some broader goal.

He wants to go to his friend’s wedding.

Naruto is in many ways his brother, through time and through shared experience, and the only close friend he will ever have. (He doesn’t see Kakashi as this; to him, the older man will always be the mentor, the surrogate parent where he had none. And Sakura…she’s something else entirely, in a category he is only just starting to understand). He owes it to the blond idiot to be there, especially after everything that has happened between them.

And yet…

He knows he can’t.

The thing about redemption is that there’s no concrete way of determining when it has been earned. And shrugging off his cares to celebrate Naruto’s good fortune feels too much like a reward. Whatever else he remains ignorant of, Sasuke knows that he is not yet worthy of that.

It doesn’t help that Kakashi has not been subtle in his suggestions that he return for the event. He’s all-but formally requested it in letters and coded messages, alluding to how much his presence would mean to the groom and the bride. Hell, the fool actually created an official mission for all Konoha shinobi to find wedding gifts, which Sasuke patently ignored.

The greatest gift Sasuke can give to Naruto and Hinata is his absence.

He knows if he were to show up, unexpected or not, the occasion would immediately be overshadowed by his return. Whispers, distrustful stares and awkward conversation; his teammates creating a protective wall around him to counter the village’s collective wariness—

Sasuke cares too much about Naruto, and has enough respect for Hinata, to do something so disrespectful.

Decision or not, however, it is no coincidence that as the cherry blossoms begin to bloom, Sasuke finds himself travelling in the environs of Konoha. Or that on the actual day, he remembers that there is a cliff overlooking the valley which offers the perfect vantage point of the entire village.

It’s the closest he has come to setting foot in Konoha since that business with the moon.

That’s not to say he hasn’t been tempted before; no one will ever know how often or how close he has come since leaving. Perhaps Naruto suspects, if only because he can’t help but sense Sasuke’s chakra wherever he is. And maybe Sakura, too, because she’s always had oddly accurate intuition about his presence, going back to their genin days.

He only ever contacts anyone inside as a last resort. Usually it’s requests for intel from Kakashi, sometimes a note for Naruto about information he has learned about Kaguya or questions to Sakura about poison remedies. If required, he will send messages via Sai’s ink scrolls, or summon one of Garuda’s underlings to do so.

Or to deliver small packages, such as a certain nondescript white box meant to be tucked into the branches of a tiny tomato tree in the ruined Uchiha district.

But Sasuke has always kept himself from walking through those giant doors.

He does the same today, albeit with some difficulty.

It’s no trouble to find the tree-ringed grove where the reception is to take place, and with eyes like his, he can make out the tiniest detail with ease.

Naruto and his bride-to-be have not arrived yet—Sasuke doesn’t know if they intend to marry before or after the reception—but from the steady thrum of Naruto and Kurama’s chakra in the vicinity of the Hyūga compound, he knows it doesn’t matter. All is well, Naruto is happy and safe, and that’s really all Sasuke needed to make sure of while he was here.

It doesn’t stop him from searching out the rest of his comrades.

Sai, who even though they did not start out on the same team has earned Sasuke’s respect in the past two years as his most direct liaison to the village, holds hands with Ino Yamanaka. Despite their cold first meeting, Sasuke has become grateful for the former Root operative for being there to protect his teammates when he wasn’t. Given what he knows about the other man’s history, he’s glad that he, too, was offered his own chance at redemption. And Ino is a good, strong woman, despite the irritating tendencies Sasuke remembers about her. He hopes they’ll be happy.

(And that’s another new thing. Caring about other people’s happiness.)

Across the reception area, Kakashi is scrambling out of his official white robes, trying to straighten his suit while handing them off to a harried looking Shizune. Then he makes a sudden beeline for the table with the wedding cake, just in time to snatch two identical white-haired toddlers away from it. Behind him, Manako Inuzuka appears, heavily pregnant and laughing unapologetically at the Hokage’s aggrieved expression.

Sasuke’s eyes widen in amazement.

As genin, Sakura once confided a vague suspicion about their sensei and the village’s demolitionist, but he never paid much attention to it. Even if he had, this outcome would still be surprising to him.

Kakashi deserves happiness as much as Naruto and Sai.

Speaking of Sakura…

There’s no point to searching her out, because she might as well be a beacon in his peripheral vision. The embodiment of spring in a dress that matches her hair, she hurries around the cherry-blossom lined grove, directing people to the gift table and helping Tenten wrangle Gai and Lee into their seats with only minimal damage to human or furniture. He watches her lecture them—that’s what she has to be doing, judging by the finger-wagging and penitent expressions of the two taijutsu masters—and Sasuke can’t help smirking.

She was always bossy.

He imagines that she has made it her personal mission to ensure today goes off without a hitch, and woe betide anyone who tries to challenge her. There are no safer hands to leave that task in, he knows.

Watching all of this, the people precious to him and the village he came from, he feels a distant, long-forgotten tug in his heart. For the first time in his travels, he wants nothing more than to return to his home and his people.

But he can’t.

He hasn’t yet earned the right to be here, and there are still those individuals roaming the world that want to get to him. Enemies who might seek him out here, and if they realised his presence, might go after the people he wants to protect.

(It doesn’t matter that all of those people are formidable warriors, he knows better than to tempt fate.)

Sasuke’s brother fought and died to protect this village, the peace and happiness of all the inhabitants; Sasuke must now do the same.

And so he doesn’t stay.

Instead, he digs out a crumpled piece of paper and jots down a quick congratulatory note—because he did come all this way, he might as well mark the occasion somehow—and summons a hawk to deliver it.

As he is tying the paper to the bird’s leg, he opens his mouth to direct it to Naruto.

Then he pauses.

His eyes are drawn back to Sakura.

She is no longer a whirling dynamo of energy, but a portrait of utter serenity lingering on the sidelines. As she watches the other guests enjoying themselves, the light spring breeze teases at her hair, and she stares off into the distance at something he can’t see. There is a wistful curve to her mouth, the barest traces of pink across her cheekbones.

Sasuke is struck, for the first time, with the realisation that Sakura Haruno is beautiful.

He’s not quite sure what to do with that epiphany.

He has always had a vague consciousness of her being pretty, but that was ancillary to her personality. Childhood memories remind him of a clingy, too-loud, too-emotional girl who seemed to have made it her mission to drive him insane. Years later, those features gave way to determination and sadness, and through it all she was so annoying.

Looking at her now, he sees her without context, without him nearby to affect her demeanour, and with no dark purpose hanging over their heads.

She is still sad, and he doesn’t have to be a genius to know what (or who) she’s thinking of, but there’s a calmness to her. Among a sea of families and couples, she is alone and yet all he can see is a stalwart strength. It’s a state that he is infinitely curious about and jealous of.

Another reawakened sensation. He hasn’t felt envious of Sakura since she learned to walk up trees before he did.

A small sting of pain flares through him, and Sasuke jumps as the hawk snaps at his fingers. It shoots him an impatient glare to remind him of the task he has become distracted from.

“Take this to Sakura,” he finds himself saying and releases it into the air.

Somehow, it’s right that she be the one to convey his congratulations to Naruto. She is the warmest, most genuine person he knows, and if anyone can best convey his feelings about Naruto’s nuptials to the loudmouth, it’s the woman who probably knows him the best in the world.

There are other reasons, of course, but none he is quite ready to examine just yet.

He sticks around long enough to watch the hawk find its way to her. She is still standing alone, still peaceful but any trace of a smile has disappeared, and she holds herself almost protectively, with her elbows drawn inward. The posture is too reminiscent of the uncertain girl he left on a cold bench so long ago, and so when Sakura’s attention is drawn by the hawk’s cry, Sasuke is relieved.

He watches as she automatically reaches out for the hawk and takes the message, carefully unwrapping it with an expression of curiosity and studying the single character there.

As her cheeks darken and her smile returns, Sasuke turns to leave.

He’s not ready yet.

But one day, he will be.

W終わり

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, but if you feel like keeping me caffeinated out of the goodness of your heart, it certainly would be appreciated! I’m also starting to post original works to my patreon.

I’m only able to keep writing as I do thanks to the support of readers like you, so every bit helps!

栗

#kuriquinn #sasusaku #sasuke uchiha #legacy of fire #fanfiction #introspection #deleted scene

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pandoa · 1 year

Note

Hello hello! Pando!!,for you even can I request

Zinnias &Snapdragons for idia?,just a lil theme of him and his s/o after hanging out!

Zinnias ~ “i miss you” “you just saw me, silly” “and? i wanna see you again so come back~”

Snapdragons ~ “this can’t be real…it feels too good to be real. tell me this is all a dream before i start believing”

~idia shroud x gender neutral reader~

AAAA thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this one lol idia is always fun to write for~ hope you like it!

♡player two♡

For the first time in—well—forever, Idia Shroud had found that he did not wish to go home.

There the blue-haired boy stood under the dim lamp posts spread across Night Raven College, silent and still, as he stared at the iridescent glow coming from the moon with the multitude of stars accompanying it in the stratosphere. The sight had solaced him as it always did, and Idia had never failed to let the restful gleam of the moon entrance him all throughout the night. The housewarden then slowly walked the path back to his dorm room at Ignihyde, eager to make it back to the comforting sheets of his light blue bed. He imagined the disorderly mess that he was much too used to—even the thought of organizing the chaos left him with an odd discernment at the unfamiliarity of it all. He imagined the rows and rows of his beloved manga collection, the posters hung up on his walls, various electrical chords entwining his room like the veins of a living being, and, most importantly, the silence of it all. The silence that let him roam free from the taunting gazes of the public; the silence that let him escape.

Idia had always loved the night. Idia had always loved his dorm.

But staring at the night made him realize he had missed one main thing. You. Because for some strange reason, the moment the two of you bid your goodbyes, the instant you shut off your rather old gaming monitor, the second his two legs had managed to drag themselves out of Ramshackle, stepping further and further away from you, Idia had found that the moon he once adored was simply just a gray piece of matter waiting to mock him with the stars in the sky. That the comforting feeling of home was not complete without you there to fall asleep with him, empty bag of chips laying in your arms and inches away from falling to the ground. That the quietness he had once longed for pierced his ears like a sharp ache in his head every minute he was not surrounded by the frustrated groans or contagious laughter coming from your form each time he had beat you in a riveting game on your console.

It was weird.

Sure, you two had been dating for quite a while now—that he knows—however, since when did Idia ever dread alone time in his comfy, cozy, humble dorm room? Ramshackle wasn’t nearly half as up-to-date as Ignihyde had been, so what’s up?

Idia reluctantly continued walking back to the mirror chambers, crickets hidden in the trees chattering and chirping a midnight song, as he reminisced the time he had spent with you within the dark walls of your dorm’s lounge. His visit to Ramshackle was sudden on your part; an act of playful impulsiveness from Night Raven’s prefect. Crowley, as competent as could be, gifted you a rather out-dated gaming console featuring a copy of Magic Gario Cart—retro and rare among Twisted Wonderland’s gaming community. And knowing your boyfriend’s raging interest in video games of all kinds, you took your phone and immediately called him over to your dorm, as if on instinct.

The time spent playing games with you then dashed past in what seemed like an instant. Every second with you was a second he wished would never end, but it was still odd nonetheless. He had never been this way before, not to anyone. But then suddenly, with you around him, days spent outside his room weren’t as dreadful anymore. Isolation was a distant memory; anxiousness had faded away.

Idia found himself not wanting to leave just yet.

“This can’t be real… It feels too good to be real,” Idia muttered as his steps slowed, mind still processing the luck he had struck with you being his romantic partner, “Tell me this is all a dream before I start believing—”

Beep, beep! A small noise peeping out of the blue-haired boy’s pocket then interjected Idia’s roaming thoughts.

“Huh?”

Beep, beep! It rang again.

“H-Hello?” Idia hesitantly said as he stared at the amusing profile picture he had set for you on his phone, “(Y/n)?”

“Come back,” a stern and certain voice came from the other side of his phone, causing the Ignihyde housewarden to halt in concern.

“What?”

An exasperated sigh then escaped your mouth, tone wistful and as-a-matter-of-fact, “I said come back. I miss you.”

“You just saw me, silly.”

“And? I wanna see you again so come back~”

Idia pondered carefully of your request as a joking hand made its way towards his chin, imitating and feigning deep thought, “Fine. But only if you let me be Player One this round.”

“What? No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because Crowley gave the set to me, not you,” you said defending your position on your console, “Therefore, I will always be Player One. Plus, you get to be One when we play at your place; let me have this.”

“But I wanna be Player One.”

“And so do I.”

“Please?” Idia began to lightly beg.

“No.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll let you be Zoshi this time.”

The boy, begrudgingly, caved at your offer, “...Deal.”

“Good,” you grinned into your phone’s speaker, “Now get back here. There’s this level I found that we haven’t tried out yet.”

a/n: i love zoshi from magic gario cart on mimtendo

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twst idia #idia x you #idia twisted wonderland #idia twst #ignihyde #gender neutral reader #blossom grove prompt event

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pandoa · 1 year

Note

Bluebells hydrangeas and maybe snapdragons if that’s ok?? And Azul pretty please

Bluebells ~ “be careful with your words. i might mistake your kindness for something more meaningful”

Hydrangeas ~ “i would do anything if it was for you”

Snapdragons ~ “this can’t be real…it feels too good to be real. tell me this is all a dream before i start believing”

~azul ashengrotto x gender neutral reader~

warnings: slight angst (?) just an insecure azul, really. mainly fluff tho

helloooo anonn! thank you for the request! the rules were only two prompts but since the 3rd prompt wasn't too difficult to add in, i included it just for you <3 hope you like it!

♡acceptance in you♡

“What if I told you that I thought your merform was absolutely beautiful?”

A restful voice calmly sang throughout the shining ambiance of the beachside’s coastline—light breezes of wind dancing past the evergreen palm trees—as it reached the perplexed ears of the Octavinelle housewarden. Lulling sounds of splishing and splashing of the ocean accompanied the way the birds above had flown across the sky, free and never ending. The sky had not a speck of darkness as the sun shone onto the sand, causing the coast to glimmer in an odd illusion. Azul was astounded by the way the wispy clouds reflected onto the water’s surface. But not as astounded by the abrupt comment you—who had been standing right beside him—had just let slip out.

“I would say you are preposterous. No sane merfolk—or human, at that—would say such rubbish,” Azul said as he peered down to gaze at his own pair of legs, almost scorning the original form they would take if he were to step into the ocean’s waves at that moment. You were jesting with him, you must’ve been! You would either have to be blind or simply ignorant to mean each word that came from your mouth. You just had to.

“And if I were speaking the truth?” you cooly asked, turning your gaze from the shoreline to face the second year beside you.

“Impossible.”

“How can you be so sure?”

A sharp sigh escaped Azul’s almost irked form, feeling a small tug pulling at his chest from the current conversation, “I should advise you to be careful with your words, Prefect. I might mistake your kindness for something deeper.”

“Is that such a bad thing, though? Tell me,” you tilted your head, feigning cluelessness at the housewarden. There was a particular answer you were looking for, and you made it a personal goal for yourself to gradually guide it out of him, “What would you mistake it for?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Please do.”

“N-no…” Azul uncharacteristically stumbled over his tongue as a miniscule tint of red creeped onto the apples of his cheeks, “It is much too unlikely that a human such as yourself would even have a split chance at ever lo—”

“Loving you? A merman? One who was repeatedly ridiculed by others in the past all because of his octopus qualities?” Fully shifting your body to look at the gray-haired boy, the determined expression of your form caused a fluttering pound to arise in Azul’s chest, “Believe me, Azul, that is the last of my worries.”

The boy self consciously broke eye contact with you as he adjusted his silver glasses, fidgeting with the leather cuffs of his gloves as tears almost threatened his eyes with a burning touch, “Would you so mindlessly overlook these memories and torments of mine just to remain someone of emotional value to me? Do you not fear the consequences that could come with this, (Y/n)?”

An innocent and gentle reply voiced from your lips rivaled the distressed, almost fearful tone of the Octavinelle second year. “No, I don’t think that I do,” you uttered in an instant, “If ‘mindlessness’ is what you call someone who cares for you, then mindlessness is what I guess I’ll be.”

“I would do anything if it was for you.”

The gray-haired boy was then left awestruck by your directness. No person could ever be this sincere, correct? Azul watched as the stray locks of your hair danced with the palms of the trees surrounding you, a captivating waltz in the wind, rhythmic and lively. He watched as the white birds in the atmosphere seemed to float above you two, watched as the high tides of the ocean spread and engulfed the dry sand in a blanket of moisture, and watched as the twinkling of the waters reflected back to your eyes—sparkling and perfect. But most importantly, Azul watched as the coldness of his hands met the warmth of your own the moment you delicately reached out to his form.

This… This can’t be real… It feels too good to be real. Tell me this is all a dream before I start believing, Azul’s thoughts reveled with the feeling of his hand holding yours. This feeling was unexplainable… It had to be a dream…right?

“Look…I love you, okay? And it’s fine if you can’t wholeheartedly accept yourself, just yet” you continued to glance at the dumbfounded look the housewarden had given you, “The emotions I harbor for you are more than enough to fill us both. If you only accept them, that is.”

Perhaps one day he could learn to accept himself like the way you had always accepted him.

a/n: i already wrote for insecure!azul in a fic before but i like giving this man affirmations okay he needs them

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #azul ashengrotto #azul #twst azul #azul twisted wonderland #azul twst #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x y/n #octavinelle #blossom grove prompt event

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pandoa · 1 year

Note

Let me just scoot myself in here real quick AHEM! I would like to participate in this 100 followers event!

I would like epel with....

Daisies ~ “it’s our little secret, alright?”

AND

Freesias ~ “you’re an idiot” “no, i’m not” “i hate you” “love you too”

Thank you^^ you don't need to do this if you don't want to and congrats on 100 follower you deserve atleast 500 but I digress.

Daisies ~ “it’s our little secret, alright?”

Freesias ~ “you’re an idiot” “no, i’m not” “i hate you” “love you too”

~epel felmier x gender neutral reader~

warnings: just random people thinking epel is a girl while on a date with reader.. bless his heart. pls remember that although here, in this fic, it's to be taken as light-hearted comedy in a fictional scenario, misgendering others can have serious effects on people irl. always remember to never assume the important things about a person just because of their appearance. thank u <3

YAKOOO TYSM I KNOW YOU DON'T REMEMBER WHAT YOU REQUESTED BUT HERE YOU GO LMAO- we're actually almost at 500 atm hehe anyways HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DEAR YAKO

♡manly misunderstanding♡

Epel wasn’t too sure what it would feel like to overblot. But he was sure that he would be moments close to forming the oozing, black liquid from his pen if you and him did not walk out of the mall you both had been shopping in as soon as possible. Because what had disrupted your very first date together as a couple was just outrageous.

Out. Rageous.

“Hello, Miss!” an overly cheery voice called out to you both, specifically referring to your startled boyfriend who jumped up in surprise. “Would you like to try out our new moisturizer?” the saleswoman chirped, “It's one hundred percent made of natural ingredients like coconut oil and shea butter! Perfect for a self-care day!”

Epel hesitantly raised his pale hand in refusal, instinctively shielding you from the gazes of the insistent advertisers as if you were a jewel in need of protection—even despite the fact that he was clearly the one in need of more protection rather than yourself.

“Ah—No, thank you,” Epel politely declined, “I think I’m alright—”

The bright saleswoman, however, continued to tread closer and closer to the first year’s defensive form as she eagerly passed down a fancy-looking bottle of lotion into his hand, “Are you sure? We are having a limited-time sale for this season only! Here, come into our store and see for yourself—”

“Young Lady!” Readily backing away from the previous shop, the two of you hastily moved forward to flee the creeping stares of the mall only to immediately be caught by another spokesperson. “Please have a sample of our latest concealer!” The seller, this time a very young and refreshing boy, called out to Epel, “Clogs no pores and nurtures your fair skin!”

“Ah—Sorry, I’m not very into that sort of thing—”

“Hi! Wanna try out this trending red lipstick? I bet it would SO match that cute top you have on right now, Miss. Post and share it with your girlfriends, too! Or even your boyfriends!”

“Please, just leave us alone—”

“MADAM, DON’T MISS YOUR CHANCE TO WIN FREE TICKETS TO SEE POPULAR ACTOR NEIGE LEBLANCHE IF YOU ORDER A CASKET OF OUR RED APPLE SODA RIGHT NOW! THAT’S RIGHT! FREE TICKETS TO SEE OUR MEDIA PRINCE, NEIGE LEBLANCHE IF YOU PURCHASE RIGHT NOW! GET YOUR DRINKS TODAY!”

“OH FOR SEVENS’ SAKE!”

Hollering in frustration, Epel’s sanity had ticked its final thread of patience as he bolted towards the blaring red lights of the mall’s heavenly exit. You quickly followed behind him, concerned but slightly amused by your boyfriend’s struggle to escape the grasps of the endless sea of salespersons as they all flocked the young boy like a stray piece of food being surrounded by a wave of birds on the shoreline. Dashing past the tempting aroma of the plentiful food stalls, speeding away from any stranger who had so much as looked your way, and skipping across the wooden tiles of the mall’s boardwalk, you and Epel had finally stopped to rest as the advertisers were now nowhere in sight.

Well, you had thought so, at least.

“...You know,” your voice said tiredly, finally catching your breath from the strenuous chase, “if the other first years saw this, they’d never let you live this down, right?”

“Shut up,” Epel glared back at you with no real ill intent. “It’s our little secret, alright? And no tellin’ Ace or Deuce ‘bout this! Nev’r!”

“Really~? What if I accidentally let it slip out one day during alchemy lessons that we were both chased down by a bunch of your fangirls and fanboys because of your beautiful looks? What would you do then?” a smug smile then slowly grew on your face, clearly trying to cause some sort of mischief between the two of you with your jokes.

The boy proceeded to maintain an exhausted stare at your comment, “You’re an idiot, (Y/n).”

“No, I’m not.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too.”

Epel, upon hearing your words, stood still in shock for a fragment of a second as he took in what you had just said in its entirety. “That’s… that’s not fair,” he muttered in what seemed like a flash of defeat, “But you were kiddin’, right? You wouldn’t actually—”

“Hey, you there!” another unknown voice coming from the store adjacent to the both of you pierced your ears like a dozen nails on a chalkboard, “Would you like a special sample of this new cologne and perfume by a well-known rising actor and model? May I present to you, madam, Fairest and True, Schoenheit: The Fragrance—!”

“NO, PLEASE,” Epel curtly yelled as he leaped yards away from the salesman innocently holding out an elegant, violet bottle of perfume towards his stature, “ANYTHING BUT THAT—”

a/n: currently imagining vil in a fragrance commercial like adrien agreste from miraculous ladybug. i am dying.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #epel felmier #twst epel #epel twst #epel twisted wonderland #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader #epel x you #pomefiore #blossom grove prompt event

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pandoa · 1 year

Note

How about Red roses and Sunrise or sunset with Azul?

Red roses ~ “i’m afraid your existence in my life has tremendously done wonders to my racing heart. i may have to ask for yours in return”

~azul ashengrotto x gender neutral reader~

thank you for requesting! here's to the final fic of 2022 <3 i do hope you enjoy!

♡for compensation♡

Azul felt cheated. What kind of contract leaves a man absolutely mesmerized by a certain person’s existence? With no strings attached and one-sided at best?

There he was, helplessly enthralled by your every move that it caused his heart to pound rhythmic drummings in his chest with each stare you gave him. Every word uttered by your seemingly soft-to-the-touch lips left him eager for what beautiful words you would say to him next. Simply a light caress to his arm in carefree interaction would send giddy shivers down the man’s spine. Azul was convinced that these newfound—and quite bothersome—emotions were some sort of price he had to pay from a deal he set with you. However, had that meant that he, himself, was on the losing side of the deal? Or the winning? Azul couldn’t comprehend whether or not he liked this fluttering feeling in his chest every time he’d seen you regularly visit Mostro Lounge. All he knew was that this was most likely a product of a deal he had lost with you.

But wait. Had you even set up a deal with the benevolent second year in the first place?

This whole arrangement was simply not fair, according to Azul. Because even with the final light of day illuminating onto your gleaming figure like a celestial halo embracing your head, the young man struggled to read your own emotions. And with this struggle, he found it unjust that his emotions bloomed and waltzed within the depths of his stomach with the single thought of you, while you were an unreadable book Azul just could not bring himself to understand. He was left blind to whatever feelings you held for his octopus-like self, and it was not fair. How come he was so clearly infatuated by you, yet he couldn’t see if you were just as infatuated with him as well?

“It has come to my attention that you, dear prefect, have managed to commit a grave offense against my general wellbeing,” Azul said as he guided you to an open spot against the coral green shore of the Isle of Sages. In an attempt to finally settle his blossoming emotions towards you, the Octavinelle second year had called you over to the beachside view of the island at the crack of dusk and thought it wise to at last express the feelings he harbored for you. To say he was nervous was truly an understatement, however. The poor boy could sense trickles of sweat accumulate in the palms of his hands as the sight of you shining underneath the sky’s multitude of colors ranging from pink to orange left Azul breathless. This was precisely why he had felt at such a disadvantage.

You made his body swell at the mere presence of your being.

Stopping in your tracks on the pale sand of the shore, you halted to properly face the housewarden and his peculiar accusation, “What do you mean?”

“Ever since our first meeting, both my heart rate and blood pressure have increased tenfold, possibly even more.”

“And how is that my fault—”

“I’m afraid your existence in my life has tremendously done wonders to my racing heart. I may have to ask for yours in return. You know, for compensation purposes,” Azul declared as a small tint of rose crept onto his face, hinting he had been slightly flustered at his confession.

“Wait, Azul I—”

“But do not fret!” a single clap of his hand interrupted your stunned voice, “My kindness is allowing you one condition in order for us to call it even.”

You stared at the young man, with your previous shock growing into curiosity, “And what is that exactly?”

“One date. I’m sure that is a reasonable reimbursement for always invading my mindspace.”

“Alright,” a smile then shone on your face, “Deal.”

Truthfully, had you not been standing there in front of him now, the dazed housewarden would have collapsed right on the spot with how bewildered he was with what you had just agreed to.

He would have to get Mostro Lounge ready for your arrangement. Pronto.

a/n: azul ashengRIZZo

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pandoa · 2 years

Note

Hi Pandoa! Congrats on your follower count :DD Could I request for the event, Tulips with Leona and the setting be In The Rain. Those two on the prompt list really remind me of that one scene in 2005 Pride and Prejudice.

Tulips ~ “so what if i’m in love with you?! is that so wrong?”

Plumerias ~ “run away with me”

~leona kingscholar x gender neutral reader~

warnings: some cursing, very minor angst if you'd qualify it as angst? it turns around very quickly tho so no worries lol

hello hello anon!! tysm for your lovely request! i do hope it was alright that i combined your rq with another darling anon <3 you two had very similar requests for leona, so i hope that's okay! i still kept that pride and prejudice vibe tho, i loved it sm!! have fun reading hehe~

♡the heart rains with its lover♡

You couldn’t believe the audacity of the beastman in front of you.

Even after every outburst, argument, cold glare, and obstacle thrown at the two of you, he was still there, ignorantly doing all that he wished like the choices he made did not carry any sort of grave consequence whatsoever. He was a selfish prick. A bratty little prince you had hoped to stay away from.

You loathed the thought of just speaking to the pompous man.

Hurriedly running past the forming puddles on Night Raven’s flooded campus, strenuous drops of rain trickled down your skin as you escaped to an open field with Leona trailing close behind you. Thunder clapped within your surroundings with a resounding clamor that echoed through your ears. The clouds in the sky gathered together in a spiteful manner, with you and Leona trapped underneath the overflow of raindrops soaking your drenched form. The chaos befalling just over the horizon accentuated your livid mood, and you bitterly welcomed it with every raving fiber of your body as you and Leona came to a stop in the middle of the storming field—the frustration in your tones being so sonorous it could be heard thousands of miles away across the hazel waters of the Isle of Sages.

He did it. Leona had confessed. Albeit quite casually for an admittance of one’s sincere affections, but a confession nonetheless. Earlier, the two of you were gathered in your own circle of friends chatting amongst yourselves in Night Raven’s lively cafeteria until the low, unexpected voice of the Savanaclaw housewarden played throughout the room—mistakenly catching the attention of many other students in the process.

“Okay, so I like (Y/n), Ruggie, what of it? That doesn't mean that I’ll go down on my hands and knees for ‘em, geez!”

The room went silent at the man’s outburst. A few had stared. You felt their creeping gazes irritate the spine of your back as you stood there, appalled and distraught, looking up to the unfazed lion standing a couple feet in front of you. Whispers were heard vexing the dissonant room as students murmured about the lion prince’s sudden declaration. All of their piercing looks were pointed towards you as you were faced with seas of judgmental glares. You were exasperated at what you had just overheard. You assumed he had hated and thought of you as a nuisance with the way he had always scoffed at you during your visits to the school’s botanical garden. But it was no matter. You claimed to hate him as well, anyway. There was no way that what he had said was true. It had to be a cruel joke.

You did not trust him.

“Why would you say that?!” you shouted as you returned from your recollection of the events that occurred just a few minutes ago, arguing with the loud pittering of the rain as you raised your voice even more. “Right there, in front of everyone! That was quite uncalled for, and you know it!”

Leona bitterly turned to you, retorting your exclaims with a sarcastic vein. “Oh, well, I’m sorry for being honest for once in my life! I’ll never say it again if it bothers you that much!” The young man said as his face twisted into an expression of aggravation.

“‘Honest?’’ you doubted his foggy sincerity. “In what world have you ever been honest, Leona? For all I know, what you said earlier could have been some sick lie you created to make me act a fool of myself!” The thunder above then crashed and roared, while strong winds caused even the trees to sway in an uncontrollable rhythm. Your flowing locks of hair were now absolutely doused by water as rain continued to pour down the ground like Mother Nature herself had controlled the weather based on your raging emotions. You and Leona did not seem to care for the shaping storm, however, as you were much too focused on each other to mind what had gone on around you.

“So what if I’m in love with you?!” Leona shortly gave out, “Is that so wrong? Do we have a problem here, Prefect?!”

“Yes, we have a problem because I love you too, you asshole!” Freezing in your place on the empty field, you paused at your own impulsive words. No, wait! (Y/n), what are you saying?! You weren’t supposed to confess too, damn it! You mentally scolded yourself. “I…I mean—What I meant to say was—”

“Then run away with me,” the lion prince interrupted. “I swear this is the craziest thing I’ve ever said. Just escape with me for today and I’ll prove how honest I am.” Leona earnestly looked into your hesitant eyes and for the first time ever, seemed as if he was entirely true to his word. It moved your heart in ways you did not think were possible.

Had this really been the Leona you knew…?

“Sevens, I can’t believe I’m saying this—” he said as he uncharacteristically dragged a hand across his face—covering a small rosy hue tinting his cheeks. “Come with me before I change my mind, herbivore. I’m not saying it twice.”

“Please just… give me a chance, okay?”

a/n: anon i'd also just like to add that i am blaming you for my new fixation bc i had never watched or read Pride and Prejudice before, but for this specific request i watched the 2005 movie and it was the most amazing thing i have ever stumbled upon like i think the story bewitched me body and soul- i am forever in your debt anon cuz once i have the time to actually read jane austen's books i can guarantee that i will make it my whole personality omg i am in love idk why i haven't read her work sooner THANK U SM ANON

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #gender neutral reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona twisted wonderland #leona twst #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #savanaclaw #blossom grove prompt event

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