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#the lilac fairy book
enchantedbook · 2 years
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The Lilac Fairy Book Illustration by Henry Justice Ford
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iphigeniacomplex · 4 months
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have apropos of nothing in particular decided that i actually love college and being in it and never want to leave this campus and it has absolutely NOTHING to do with the availability of a physical copy of the aarne-thompson index that i can just check out from the library
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thefaeriefolk · 11 months
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The Fairy Books by Andrew Lang
You can read them here:
The Blue Fairy Book
The Red Fairy Book
The Green Fairy Book
The Yellow Fairy Book
The Pink Fairy Book
The Grey Fairy Book
The Violet Fairy Book
The Crimson Fairy Book
The Brown Fairy Book
The Orange Fairy Book
The Olive Fairy Book
The Lilac Fairy Book
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ticklemerainbows · 9 months
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Aestheticore Legacy Challenge
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Hullo friends! I have been searching for a little while for a legacy challenge that I could also use as some sort of perfect genetics challenge and I figured, why not make my own. So the aestheticore legacy challenge was born! As you can tell from the title, this challenge is centered around differed aesthetics. There are a ton of aesthetics out there so it was hard to pick just 10, and some of these I’ve never heard of before so I’m excited to try this out! 
If you decide to do this, tag me ticklemerainbows or aestheticore challenge so I can see! And feel free to let me know what you think. This is my first challenge so if there’s things I could do different/better let me know!
And without further ado, the challenge.
                                                         ~x~x~x~
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Generation One - Cottagecore
Your favorite thing about living on family land is the garden. It’s been around for at least the last 10 generations, and you want nothing more than to keep it going, but living in a city isn’t for you. So you pack up, take a keepsake plant from the garden and move to a quiet town in order to grow your own garden that will hopefully last for generations to come!
Requirements:  The Perfect Garden
Live on a small (no bigger than 30x30) lot
Maintain a garden for the entire generation
Reach level 10 Gardening
Make a living off your plants
Suggested Traits: Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors
Color: Green
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Generation Two - Auroracore 
You try your hardest to help your parents on the farm but you can’t help but have your head in the clouds. Fairy tales are your favorite genre of anything, and while living on a farm is all fine and dandy - you absolutely love your horse, you did raise it from a baby after all! - you always wonder if there’s something more. Like, a unicorn, perhaps?
Requirements:  The Fairy Tale Finder
Raise a horse from foal to adult
Reach level 10 in the Riding Skill
Have your horse get the Friend of the Herd Lifetime Reward
Search for a unicorn anytime there’s an aurora
Suggested Traits: Equestrian, Animal Lover
Color: Lilac
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Generation Three - Light Academia
Being raised by someone who’s lifelong mission was to find a supernatural creature was surprisingly not as chaotic as it would sound, though you still prefer to stay more…grounded. While your parents were out hunting, you preferred to keep your head in the books, earning a scholarship to get into University. 
Requirements:  The Perfect Student
Get on honor roll as a child/teen
Earn a scholarship in any subject
Buy the bookstore
Suggested Traits: Socially Awkward, Workaholic, Perfectionist, Bookworm
Color: Beige
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Generation Four - Fairycore
Your grandmother always told you about her times with her unicorn friend, and while you never quite believed her, you fell in love with the idea of supernatural creatures altogether. Magic, fairies, it all sounds so fantastical that you even begin trying to figure out if you can turn yourself into a magical creature!
Requirements:  Alchemy Artisan
Reach level 10 Alchemy
Visit the arboretum once a week to search for fairies
Befriend a fairy
Use an elixir to become a fairy
Suggested Traits: Supernatural Fan, Gatherer
Color: Pink
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Generation Five - Comfy/Cozy
Life around magic has been a whirlwind, and you are anything but all that excitement. Having a grandparent who owns a bookstore has its perks, and you spend most of your time curled up with a good book and a warm cup of tea. Leaving your house to work doesn’t sound too appealing but you don’t have to go outside to write, do you?
Requirements:  Professional Author
Join the bookclub
Visit the library at least 3 times a season
Reach level 10 Writing
Write a best selling novel
Suggested Traits: Bookworm, Couch Potato, Artistic
Color: Orange
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Generation Six - Decora
You always get asked how you turned out so outgoing when you were raised by homebodies, and you never have an answer for that. You just love being around people, and more importantly dressing those people up. You want to fill as many peoples lives with as much color as possible.
Requirements:  Fashion Phenomenon
Change your outfit every season
Reach level 10 Painting
Makeover at least 10 sims
Become best friends with one of your clients
Suggested Traits: Charismatic, Artistic, Excitable
Color: Magenta
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Generation Seven - Jamcore
You love color just as much as your parents, but not so much the fashion part. Your clothes get way too messy as you experiment in the kitchen, after all. Creating yummy, colorful dishes are where your passions lie and you are determined to learn as much about the culinary arts as you possibly can.
Requirements:  The Culinary Librarian
Cook meals for your family every day
Grow a fruit orchard on the family farm
Have a personal recipe library
(Optional) Use the Grandma’s Canning Station once a week
Suggested Traits: Natural Cook, Bookworm
Color: Yellow
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Generation Eight - Nautical
See the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls ye. You’ve always been drawn to the water, so much so that your family jokes that you might be a mermaid. Swimming, fishing, boating, it all appeals to you. You’d live on a houseboat, if given the chance. 
Requirements:  Presenting the Perfect Aquarium
Own a boat
Install a pond on your family land
Move into a houseboat
Reach level 10 Fishing
Suggested Traits: Loves to Swim, Angler
Color: Blue
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Generation Nine - Wanderlust
Your parents loved the open sea but you want to see what’s beyond that! Visiting other cities, and even other countries. Learning and immersing yourself in the culture. You’ve read books about it, watched shows, and now that you’re old enough it’s time to dust off your visa and visit those places for yourself.
Requirements:  Seasoned Traveler
Reach level 10 in Photography
Collect a relic from each location
Go on at least 1 adventure in each country
Marry someone from a foreign country
Suggested Traits: Adventurer, Perfectionist
Color: Red
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Generation Ten - Synthwave
You spent your life in other countries, other cultures, and you have to wonder, what more is there? You’ve inherited a love of traveling but is it possible to go to other timelines, or even the future? There’s not much research on it now but there’s only one way to find out. To the future!
Requirements:  Made the Most of My Time
Become best friends with Emit
Reach Level 10 in Advanced Technology
Complete the Time Keeper Legacy Statue Challenge
Create a time machine
Suggested Traits: Friendly, Adventurer
Color: Black
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heartshapedbubble · 7 months
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Could I perhaps have something like those 2 long and well written Joseph and Luchino fic but with Soul Catcher? Thank you🙏
anon i am SO SORRY this took so long you might as well have my first born
also english isn't my first language so please have mercy on me i know i reuse the same words over and over 😔 reqs like these sadly clog my inbox even tho i like writing them so i'm gonna do something about them after i empty it!!
my very own prince charming, a soul catcher fanfic🧲☠️
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cw for vomit mention in case you have emetophobia, reader's gender not specified although soul catcher uses a few spanish pet names (nouns) that are gendered because haha language rules, not proofread, warning for intense corniness, this is very bad i apologize, ALSO VERY LONG
-------------------------------------------------------
~
There are amazing forces of Attraction and Repulsion between souls; just like when fate guides some people together and causes others to part.
~
After a period of indecisive skimming through the bookshelf, you picked out a thick, hardcover book.
You'd consider yourself quite picky regarding books - just a flashy cover and a taunting description wouldn't do it for you. A beautiful, elegant maiden and a handsome, charming prince were just one-dimensional props in the story, and you found all of those "new " and "wonderful " fantasy worlds described and mapped out on the front page generic and bland. You always seeked out something new, something that would leave you thirsting and longing for each damned word pressed onto the yellowing paper, make your fingers trail over dozens of pages in mere minutes. Yet, considering your little town in the south was limited to just one small, dusty library, finding such books would be considered an extreme sport.
So for now, you had to be satisfied with the usual, popular literature that the townsfolk read.
But today was special - you weren't in the mood for something new, or something outstanding, in fact you'd even say you wanted to read something normal. Something you could nonchalantly mention to your friends during afternoon coffee, with a plot so malleable and simple it would be woven around your conversation like it was nothing. The misadventures of a rookie knight, or the sorrows of a young, noble lady, all interpreted differently and abstractly and able to be swiftly analyzed and twisted over a cup of overly sweet coffee. Although the pile of smooth, newly released paperbacks at the entrance intrigued you, a minute later you found yourself squished between two dusty, polished wooden shelves, inspecting the book you just picked out.
Well, you didn't know you'd stoop that low, but what caught your eye right now was a book of fairy tales and fables. It was an old release, presumably donated to the library considering the oil stains on the brown paper that wrapped itself around the thick leather cover. Although worn out by time and basically crumbling from the outside, on the inside the lettering was flawless and written in an old, thick cursive, and simply bringing your face closer to the text would bless you with the scent of old, yet well kept books - the fresh smell of walnuts and baldachin beds and white cotton dresses, and even lilac bushes in the spring. Although all of these associations were of a life unknown to you, for some reason they made you feel at home.
There was another reason for you picking out this particular book - a reason you'd rather carry with you to your grave out of pride, unable to bend your head down and admit it. When life got unbearable and overbearing and the only way you felt safe and well was under heavy linen bedsheets or in the shade of the old pear tree, you'd curl up and indulge in the exact same books you usually despise. A humbling experience, indeed, but at times where safety and love were most neccessary fantasies were the quickest, most low-key way of getting what you needed the most at the moment. Projecting your being onto the flat sheet of a protagonist, you'd visualise yourself instead of them, you being the one kissing the hero's fading scars or having your hair braided by the thin, nimble fingers of the king's son. The amount of scenarios was neverending, and, well, if you couldn't get your fix with all these readily available options, you felt like you're doomed.
The book was now set inside your trusty linen bag while you were walking home. Oddly, the usually loud and populated city market was silent and not a soul could be seen out on the street, not even a head popping out of the window or a hand reaching for the hanged clothes that hung on the ropes high above the rocky path. While you were crossing the town bridge, you decided to stop to take a deep breath and enjoy for a bit, now that you weren't being pushed onward by the citizens and the merchants that usually piled behind you.
It does take a while to learn savor things, doesn't it? It takes until adolescence until the dark chocolate on your tongue unveils its rich, deep and bitter flavor, until you learn how special that first sip of morning coffee is and how good of a feeling it is to simply have another hand wrapped around yours. Same goes for nature, you thought to yourself as you looked over the bridge, watching the river speed under the arch and the plants inside of it wave around like silk scarfs. Without the noise pollution, you were finally able to hear the satisfying noises of the water sloshing over the rocks, droplets hitting each other every second. Without a second thought, you laid beside the edge of the bridge, your bag lazily hanging off of your wrist, and let yourself get lulled to sleep by the melody of the current.
That is, until the straps of the bag slipped off of your wrist.
Fuck.
You immediately jumped to your feet in panic, looking around for your bag. Yet, it was too late. It was nowhere to be found - it was probably already driven away by the river, taken to god-knows-where.
Well, it's not like you weren't aware of the risk. But your heart still ached - that was not your book, after all. And what a beautiful, old edition it was as well! There was no way you'd be able to properly apologize to the librarian, unless....
"Oye, muñeca, ta libre."
You jumped at the sudden voice whispering at your ear. You were sure no one was around here except you... or maybe..?
Slowly turning around, your face was met with another, yet wider, lathered with paint and shaded by the hat above's enormous brim. As the face moved away from yours and the person straightened their back, you found yourself gazing up and down at - what seemed to be, at least - a tall, youngish man, couldn't be above 28. Dressed in gaudy purple, green and black, adorned with flowers and gilded accessories, he looked like a living puppet, his chest and shoulders wide and his waist slim, proportions of a wooden harlequin they sold during the holiday season in the toy shop. Hanging off of his wrist was your beloved linen bag, the forsaken book inside still in tact, not a single droplet of water blemishing the paper.
"Who...? How did you...?" You muttered nonsense, as your arms needily reached for the bag that he gently waved around. Props to the visuals, but you had your priorities.
"It's all reflexes, sugar. Was taking a nap underneath the bridge, you know, all that wandering around numbs out your legs, and your little sack here just happened to fall close enough to my hand for me to grab it in time. Be a little more careful next time, will you, doll?" The man-puppet replied nonchalantly as he tossed the bag into your arms.
"Thank you, I- wait, what?" You quickly snapped out of your daze. "Napping? Under the bridge? "
"Don't judge it before you try it", he whistled, crossing his arms behind his head, "The cobblestone ain't the comfiest, but it does wonders for your back."
You sneered at his carefree expression, as if lying under a bridge was the most normal thing to do. Who exactly was this fellow, and who did he think he was?
"And you expect to believe me all that?"
"Hm?" He jolted a bit, not expecting a question, maybe a compliment, but definetly not a skeptical remark.
"Napping under a bridge? Seriously? You catching my bag is impressive, yes, but there's no way it was that much of a skillful feat. You probably dozed by the river's shore and suddenly found a bag by your side like any other guy at this hour. Who are you even, some wannabe-show-off-superhero?"
To your suprise, he just smirked back at you, lowering his torso until his face was just inches away from yours. So close, you could feel his warm breath on your cheeks, and his raspy voice rumbled inside your ears.
"How about you take a wild guess."
Stumped by his question, you took a few steps back. Your eyes now digesting his form in his entirety, you rubbed your chin as you gazed up and down at the man, posing, obviously very into the careful stare you were dissecting him with.
"Enjoying the view, hm, azúcar? "
"Give me a break! I'm trying to focus." You mumbled, panicking a bit, sensing that your cheeks started to flame up. To be honest - even under all that fabric and thick paint, he was quite a looker. The black paint defined his jawline in all the right places, and man, that silly outfit of his was tailored pretty damn well, gripping his legs and his biceps enough to define them nicely.
Although visually he was as fancy as a rich man's birthday cake, nothing seemed to pop out from his outfit, as if every embroidered piece of textile and every golden stud was carefully planned out. However, upon better inspection, one of them seemed to take the cake - it was the small shiny skull on top of his hat, shaped like a squished pear, a few nails stabbed into it like birthday candles. The cherry on top of it all - metaphorically and literally.
"The skull on your hat... looks like a well-made prop to me. You're some kind of entertainer, huh?"
A playful smile appeared on the lad's lips, yet it wasn't a confirming one. "You're getting closer, but no, not exactly."
"Street musician?"
"I can be one if you desire, but it's not exactly my main job."
"Actor?"
"Only behind the scenes, dear. But I can see by the look in your eye that you're going to head in the right direction." This little guessing game seemed to amuse him to no end.
"With all that flashy wear, it seems fair to assume you might even be some kind of high-end magician, performing for nobles or aristocrats. Or some wannabe wizard."
He bit his lip, the smile widening with each guess. He seemed more excited about this than you were.
A flower painted around his left eye. A belt fastened around his waist, with a big golden buckle. Sheer black gloves covering his hands in their entirety, bones painted in gold on his knuckles and fingers.
A glowing ring - no, a disk - hanging from the side of his belt, rocking with the movement of his hips.
Wait. It couldn't be. The disk looked too...
"Hold on a second. You couldn't be..."
"Sí, muñeca? "
"Are you..."
Before you could even finish your sentence he grinned from ear to ear and inched even closer to you, his nose now touching yours, as if he just managed to read your mind.
"Bingo."
~
The legend of the Soul Catcher was told times and times again, twisted and folded like fresh taffy to suit every possible scenario in one's life. To children, it was told to scare them into going to bed in time. To teenagers, it was told to ward them off from the forest at the edge of the town. To young adults, it was told to motivate them into becoming independent and to work hard. To newlyweds, it became a prayer, to protect the newly formed family and to bring safety to their home. He was not the Reaper, but if a soul was left astray, detached from the body it resided in, everyone knew well that once the Soul Catcher gets his hands on it, that it won't be back ever again. He was both a devil and a saint, a villain and a vigilante - but one thing was sure, he was well respected. No one knew if it was out of fear or out of genuine admiration. And what was even weirder - not a single person was sure if he ever actually existed.
Not a single adult, at least.
The legend was not a new one, in fact, it has been told for a little less than a century. If you were to have a little extra patience and attention, you could hear the town's elders occassionally mumble about seeing him as a child in the forest, or him visiting them in a dream. But their interpretations varied from tale to tale - he went from a spirit, to a ghoul, to simply an omen, either good or bad. Since the townspeople couldn't agree on a single, concrete definition, the Soul Catcher remained a concept, embodied by what seemed to be multiple entities.
However, if you were to ask a child about the Soul Catcher, you'd get a much more vivid and universal description than anything an adult could tell you. All of them were along the lines of "magical jester", and what was weirder, almost all of the children confessed that the Soul Catcher played with them. And no, it wasn't just a single sighting, he played with multiple kids at once, even going as far to balancing three of them on his shoulders and telling them stories. During the hot, damp afternoon hours of the summer, huge groups of children snuck out of their homes just to play with him. When their mothers soaked their cramped hands and their fathers took their first break after the morning shift, their beloved kids were out on the dusty streets, carefully following every word seeping off of the Soul Catcher's silver tongue.
The only thing that bound the varying opinions and theories of both the young and the old was the trusty disk that always hung by his hip, rumored to be the tool he used to attract and harvest souls. And this same legendary disk was now hanging off of the belt of the man in front of you, green and purple mist enveloping it.
The myth himself, in the flesh, in front of you.
"You were quicker than I thought you'd be. Bravo, dollface." He smiled and patted your head. "If we ignore your initial hostility, you seem quite confident in the fact that i'm the real deal. Mind telling me why?"
"Well, you don't see someone parading around with THE exact disk that the Soul Catcher uses. Everyone agrees on the main description of its appearance, but to be completely fair, no one around here is skilled enough to make a replica that's convincing enough."
"I see. It's nice to see somebody with both the wits and the pretty face." He chuckled. Who would have known that he's such a flirt? Nontheless, to your shame your face lit up at his silly compliment. There was just something about him that made you weak in the knees.
"Alright. I believe I should prove you I'm the real thing now." He unhooked the disk from his belt, spun it around in his hand, and hopped a few steps away from you. He pointed the disk at your chest, positioning himself as if he's getting ready to react to a suprise attack. You didn't know what he was trying to do, but you felt as if you shouldn't make a sound or even object to it.
A tension-filled silence wrapped around you two for 20 seconds. After 10 more which seemed more like 10 minutes, you felt your body move. Move, although your legs were planted at the same spot they were before. Your head ached and pulsed, you felt dizzy as if your intestines were tying themselves into knots. To be sick without actual pain, to move without any movement, what was he doing to you? If this keeps up, you might just end up vomiting out your stomach along with its contents. It was like being carsick, except the sickness rumbled not only through your abdomen, but through each one of your limbs as well.
"Here, I stopped. It's all over. Sorry for this."
The headache seemed to halt, and your body was back to normal, yet your hands and legs still felt a bit sore. He was now above you, his hand stretched out to your sides in case you lost your balance.
"...What did you just do to me?" You yawned, trying to stand up straight again.
"What you just experienced was your soul being harvested from your, already inhabited, body. I usually refrain from doing this, but I felt like I should let anyone that witnesses me up close go through this. Y'know, I want to be honest with people. That although they've seen me in the flesh and talked to me, they're fully aware of what I can do so they can prevent themselves from getting harmed."
"Does this imply you sucked someone's soul out from their living body?"
"Maybe", he shamefully turned his head away, "but it was never on purpose. Usually it was them reaching for the disk, or trying to see it up close. It pains me, since in most cases it's nearly impossible to return the original soul to its old body."
An awkward silence ensued.
"Sorry for ruining the mood, I felt like I needed to warn you first."
"Oh no, seriously, it's alri-"
"May I walk you to your house, jewel?"
"Huh?"
"You heard me the first time." He extended his hand, waiting for your next move.
~
What a peculiar man, indeed. First he tries to suck out the life out of you to give you a heads-up, and then he offers to walk you home like a gentleman.
And you'd be lying if that offer didn't sound thrilling. So now, your hand was intertwined with his, you trying to slow down as much as possible to make the moment last.
"I realized I had forgot to ask for your name. My apologies. Not very gentlemanly of me, isn't it?"
"Oh, I don't mind it. It's ____."
"___..." He looked up at the sky, rubbing his chin, as if he was trying to remember something, your name echoing on his lips multiple times.
"Pretty name, but it doesn't ring a bell. You're not among the horde of youth that I visit, are you?"
"Nope. I'd say i'm more of a loner most of the time. I like socializing and all, but nothing's like a good book that you can read in one sitting."
"I figured. No way in hell I'd forget such a cute face like yours, even if I saw it for a split second." He smiled and pinched your nose. If his plan was to drive you insane, he was incredibly effective.
"How come people have such different reports about you? Can you shapeshift?" Trying to lead a conversation with him felt like navigating through a mine field - there were no known limits, no known good or bad questions, or any shared topics you two could talk about. But you'd lie if you said it didn't excite you - waiting for his response, never being able to predict the next word that will come out of his mouth.
He sighed. "If you wore the same pair of pants every day, wouldn't you get tired of it?"
"I suppose..?"
"Well, yeah. It's that. Mix it with hallucinations the brain dials up once it's met with something outside the world it knows, and here's your answer. I'm no sprite or shapeshifter, just a regular guy who made a regrettable deal years ago. I might have the powers of the dead on my side, but at what cost?"
You shrugged. As much as you wanted to quiz him and get him to talk about himself, right now biting your tongue and playing it cool seemed like the best idea. Getting deeply invested in his life might not lead to good places.
"So... you're one of those so-called bookworms, hm? You've been carrying a book inside that bag of yours the entire time, too." You could feel his hand slip from yours, trailing across your arm to your shoulder, then to the other, gripping it softly. His touch felt warm on your skin, very human and real despite what he did for a living.
"...Yeah. In fact, I was just on my way from the library back at the bridge where I met you. I just borrowed it." You smiled shyly, holding the bag tightly in your arms. Knowing his curiosity and boldness, a feeling of panic unfolded in your chest, dreading what he might say next.
"Mind me taking a peek at what you're reading?"
Aaand this was it. The moment you prayed will not happen, but his chin was already resting on your shoulder, trying to get a peek at the contents of the bag.
"H-hey, hey! Back off! That book's my business, after all!" You giggled, holding it tighter and tighter, trying to laugh off your growing anxiety. If there's one person that you wouldn't like knowing about your little self-indulgent hobby, then it was Soul Catcher. But your tightest grip was easily undone by his loosest, and now your book was in his left hand, clumsily open, and the digits of his right were buried in the strands of your hair, holding your head away with careful but great strength. Even with your annoyed and panicked groans and your hands clawing at him, he simply couldn't miss the opportunity to steal a look at a few titles.
"Calm down there, you're acting as if it was a pipe bomb that you were carrying!" He chuckled, trying to stay composed as his body lost balance under your pushes and pulls. Yet your delight was short-lived, as only a second was needed for him to spread the pages open with his thumb and smugly read some of the titles out loud.
"Cinderella, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty... seems like someone's a sucker for Prince Charming, hm?" He snickered, but gave in to your pleas and dropped the book right into your sack.
"Would it hurt your pride to not dig through others' stuff?" You hissed, patting the bag in relief. "A-and is there something so wrong with indulging in childhood comfort anyway?"
"Oh, not only would it hurt it, it would kill it. Besides, something tells me that this little guilty pleasure of yours goes beyond just childhood comfort", he whistled in his usual self-satisfied tone, yanking at his suspenders, "But hey, who am I to say?"
"Oh, does it?" You gave him a taste of his own medicine, grimacing right at his face, making sure each word rumbled through his skull. "Well, what if I told you that such absurd assumptions are indeed incredibly untasteful, especially when left unelaborated? Just imagine how much of a hit that could be to your fragile ego..."
"¡Dios mío! You couldn't possibly...!" He dramatically threw his head back. At least something was true - he really was an actor behind the scenes. "Oh lord, it truly seems like the only way to make it up for you, your majesty, is to explain myself beneath your ice-cold gaze, like an accused pauper chained and laid before the king!"
Both of you laughed away at your ridiculous actions.
He cleared his throat, after a good minute of dying from laughter. "O-okay, where were we? Ah, yes, your dirty little secret." With his hands crossed behind his back and his gaze innocently directed at the sky, it seemed like this was a touchy subject for him, too. "Well, from all my previous experiences with people, I noticed that a lot of them like to fantasize about, well, a world where everything is just better - usually some kind of unrealistic fairytale utopia. It helps them feel better about their problems, especially during adolescence." His eyes briefly shifted to yours, watching them as if he's waiting for you to point out a fuck-up nested in his wording.
"Alright, continue...?"
"And, uhm, although fairy tales are meant for kids and all and are read by them, these same adolescents use them as a vessel for said utopias, or simply, a medium."
His lips were pressed into a firm line, waiting for your feedback.
"Bravo, jester", you treated him with a teasing smile, ruffling the stray locks of hair peeking out from his hat, "You got yourself out this time."
"Well then, call me Houdini." He smiled back, scratching the back of his neck. "Jeez, even though that fantasy thing should have gotten into my skull for the most part, I still can't fathom what's so special about the Prince Charming trope.. It's so annoying! Are y'all really drooling over the same guy in different fonts?"
"To be fair, it leaves a lot to the imagination. You can interpret him however you like, twist his personality to your liking."
"But that's exactly why it's horribly overused! Dressing every fictional man in a suit of already desired personalities is... boring! No variety, no depth - nothing! Do they really not find real people with actual lives, emotions, thoughts and opinions more appealing?"
It was a bit funny, him getting worked up over this, as if he was deeply insecure about it. You decided to fuel the fire a bit.
"Well, what does your average Prince Charming have that, let's say, I lack?"
"A great personality?"
"Oh, come on. Now you're just being mean." He sighed, traces of laughter in his sigh. "Damn you, muñeca." You chuckled.
"Big muscles?"
"These babies don't look defined to you?" He pouted jokingly, flexing his arm. Shit. Your face warmed up for a bit. For a second, a satisfied grin appeared on his face, liking the reaction he coaxed out of you through your composed armour.
"Strength and brave- AH!" You didn't even get to finish your sentence, and a moment barely passed, but his left arm was already wrapped around your calves, his right under your arm and around your back, his body leaned into yours and suddenly - you were hanging off his shoulder stomach-down, like a potato sack. "Oh my god yo- put me down!"
He whistled, holding you down to supress your squirming. "Strong enough for you, doll?"
"Not fair..." You groaned, lifelessly plopping onto him.
"You didn't answer my question~"
"Yes. Strong enough." It was quite enjoyable up on his shoulder, actually. After the initial panic passed it became nice, the rhythmic bouncing of his walk lulling you to sleep. You could get used to this.
"Now that's music to my ears." He showed no sign of letting go any time soon, perhaps he liked the smell of your perfume on your neck, and your weight resting on top of him, like a thick winter blanket.
"Since you've already decided to pick me up, would you be kind enough to carry me to my house?" You mumbled, your eyelids already feeling heavy. "That house, over there." Pointing at the tall, cobblestone house, you yawned.
"Entiendo, sirenita."
~
"How did you- actually, you know what? Nothing can suprise me anymore. You climbed up my balcony, didn't you?"
The sun was setting, and Soul Catcher was leaning against the railing of your balcony, your bag thrown around his frame.
"Actually I slid off the roof, but you're not that far off, beautiful." Every time your name was replaced - or you were simply called by - a soft pet name coming from his mouth, you felt as if your stomach would explode. Something about the way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, whispering endearments to you like you're the only person remaining in the world along with him. And whenever he read and peered through your façade as your face turned red and your breathing got deeper, he took a step further, engaging in the sensual, mental tango forming around you two. "I forgot to return your bag. Sorry."
"It's alright. I appreciate that you went out of your way for me." Gosh, the way you tortured him! Whenever he was smooth and flirtly and you punched him in the face with your kind, unfiltered smile instead of flirting back, it was like his heart was momentarily shattered into pieces and then bound again. The irresistable two-step of games and suave words was driving him insane and momentarily, in his mind it was your face, and your body, and your voice that called for him and your coldness clashing with his warmth, and it was making him dizzy. Behind his eyes, his brain was melting, and his heart was no different. To fall so quickly for a stranger - well, it's no secret that he's been depraved of actual love and affection beyond one night stands and empty promises to dozens of lovers from different times - was nothing new to him, but this attachment was not the same, it was permanent, stable, and wasn't going away any time soon.
"So, ___..." You turned quickly. When it was just your name and not something snarky on his lips, it seemed more important. "...You got any plans for the evening?"
"Oh- not really. Do you, though?"
"Not a plan, but rather an idea, a proposition, even." His voice was breathier as if he was nervous, coughing up the words from his chest. "If you want to, we could, y'know, watch the sunset together. I'm quite fond of sunsets myself, so I was wondering..."
"So you're proposing a date?" A date. As if he flinched when he heard the word.
"Well, yeah, a date, if you want to call it that." He said as he bit his lip. "Are you up?"
"Why not?" You whispered, creeping slowly towards him. "That sounds like a nice way to spend the evening."
"I'm glad." he smiled. In that little moment all of his confidence returned, and now his voice was clear again and he was back on his feet, jumping on top of the railing like the most skilled of acrobats and making his way to the roof. "You're coming, no?"
"And how exactly do you want me to come?"
"Grab my hand. Come on." His hand hanged from above, pushed as far as possible to reach you. "I'll pull you up."
You gulped. Heights remained a minor fear of yours ever since childhood, and having to face said fear head-first out of nowhere wasn't very appealing. "But what if I fall?"
"Believe me, muñeca, you won't."
"How can you be so sure!?"
He took a deep breath, trying to speak as gently as possible to calm you down.
"Trust me, ___. It's my hand around yours, no one elses, and my strength that's going to pull you up. I'm here for you. Please."
You didn't know when, you didn't know how, but the height suddenly stopped being a problem and, in a flashing moment, you were in his arms, being pulled to the middle of the roof.
~
"The clouds are such a beautiful color today. Light pink, as if they're crowning the sun before the moon rises."
Your back facing him, his chin on your shoulder, his breath on the nape of your neck.
"It's even more beautiful right before it goes down. They turn blood red, melting with the sky."
His arms wrapped around you, your hand around his wrist, your legs thrown over his.
"Do you have to go soon?" You whispered with a heavy heart.
"I should go." He suddenly stopped. "But I don't want to."
"Please. Stay for another moment."
He pulled you closer and closer to him, now his mouth right by your ear.
"Of course. A moment."
And it was more than a moment.
And more than an hour.
And only the crescent moon was the witness, and what it saw was sealed for eternity once the sun rose on the horizon again.
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star-princess-princess · 10 months
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this is for femmes who love being super girly, being super soft, dressing delicately, angels, collect porcelain figurines, vintage lace, cute boxes, ribbons and bows, frills and ruffles, romance novels, period dramas, being kind and sweet, feeling like a princess, heart shaped anything, pink pearls, stuffed bunnies, canopy beds, silk sheets, pretty lamps with pretty lamp shades, vanity mirrors, fairy lights, mini skirts, tea parties, smelling like strawberries, cream, and roses, pretty quilts, pretty makeup, quilts, thrifting vintage, wearing heels, hello kitty, baby’s breath, bunnies, creating super sparkly adorable art, fashion, rose water, lilac, ballet, ice skating, baby pink, valentine’s day, unicorns, being a lover girl, feeling like a fairy, heart shapes purses, Sanrio accessories, lace curtains, victorian design, art history, peonies, angel themes, pretty post cards, taking yourself on a lil date, getting yourself a lil treat, vintage picture frames, sewing and embellishing, wedding decor, renaissance art, pink and white baskets, art museums, love letters, poetry, fantasy books with magic and fairies, holding hands, matching nail polish with your butch/stud/masc, couples skin care, diy fashion and jewelry, floral scented perfume, mini candelabras, pink candles, wearing skirts, vintage heart soap, tea, fluffy sweaters, gardening, tiaras, glass figurines, little trinkets, classical music, bows on everything, wearing ditsy floral or pointelle knit, making flower crowns, swans, flower crowns, candles, vintage art of flowers, ornate framed mirrors, playing dress up, rose scented body wash, and vintage strawberry shortcake,
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tashacee · 3 months
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Snow Fairies
Outside the window the snow that had fallen overnight was lying thick on the ground, the world around them shrouded and quiet. In the bright sunlight the snow glistened, refracting shades of lilac and pink, the light breeze sending small skiffs swirling off the untouched and unsullied drifts.
It was beautiful.
It was also very inconvenient.
Four’s wheelchair was good. It could handle all kinds of different terrains; it had carried him through his second adventure and was doing damn well on this one too. There were just some surfaces that no matter what enchantments he put on, it was going to struggle over.
No, he told himself. It was far better to stay indoors with a good book, occasionally looking out the window and laughing as one of his brothers fell on their ass. Ooft. He absolutely did not need to risk that. His hips hurt even at the thought. And besides, Malon was keeping them well supplied with hot chocolate while they sat. No, a day by the fire was far preferable to risking the frigid outdoors
Totally.
Whatever.
Read the rest on AO3!
(this is my secret Santa gift for @zarvasace and is set in her wonderful Shatterproof AU! Go read it if you haven’t yet!)
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meraxesmoon · 2 months
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My Different HOTD OCs
note: i have so many, and I wanted to have like a little info page about them. also, tysm for voting!
┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑
Aemma Velaryon
Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Criston Cole, Lawful father is Laenor Velaryon
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Physical Appearance: Aemma is traditionally Valyrian looking, soft lilac eyes and snowy white hair. I imagine that she probably looks a lot like her grandmother, and she is often dressed in soft blue colors to represent both houses Velaryon and Arryn. She wears gray as well to match her dragon Grey Ghost. I imagine her as a plus sized woman, like very soft and sweet.
Attributes: Very soft spoken and sweet. Aemma is coveted by her mother, and she doesn't spend a lot of time away from Rhaenyra, especially in her younger years. As such, she's very naive and trusting, something that makes her mother worry quite a bit.
Aemma was very close with her father, Laenor, and had a huge depressive episode after he 'died'. She isn't very close with Daemon, and after moving to Dragonstone, she spends her time with her baby brothers or riding her dragon.
She's very dutiful, and when she is betrothed to Aegon to solidify her mother's claim to the throne, she does it without complaint. They were close as children, and Aemma believes it could be a content marriage, despite the rockyness between their families.
She is Rhaenyra's heir.
Dragon: Grey Ghost.
Aemma was dragonless until she was about ten years old. After her family relocated to Dragonstone, she ended up bonding with Grey Ghost, one of the wild dragons. Being quiet herself, Aemma and Grey Ghost compliment each other very well, and she spends more time with her dragon than anyone in her family.
Aemma has a personalized saddle, a heart emblem on Grey Ghost's chest to symbolize how much she loves him.
Angsty Info: Aemma is made a prisoner of war after Rhaenyra is usurped, if we're going with the canon timeline. She's forcibly married to Aegon after Lucerys is killed, and she becomes aware of Criston being her actual father. This all happens within a very short amount of time, and she tries to throw herself from her window but is stopped by Ser Criston.
Spouses/Lovers: Aegon Targaryen II, Aemond Targaryen (one-sided)
Children: In a peaceful AU, Aemma is married to Aegon and has two sons and a daughter. Laenor, Aenys, and Naerys. She had a stillborn daughter, Naerys' twin, and couldn't have any more children after her daughters were born due to her mother not allowing it.
Alyssa Snow
Daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Unknown Northern Woman
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Physical Appearance: She looks as though she belongs in a fairy tale book. White hair, mismatched eyes, and a cunning smile. Alyssa looks much like Daemon's mother, and her purple-green eye combo is evidence of this. Despite being fierce and stubborn, she quite enjoys wearing dresses. Her main colors are pink and purple. She only wears black on rare occasions. Her hands are calloused due to dragonriding without wearing gloves.
Attributes: Stubborn yet empathetic. Alyssa was, for the first eight years of her life, raised in the north. Therefore, she follows the old Gods. She's very strict in her beliefs, as well, and refuses to convert. Due to her religion, she has a certain disgust for her father's side of the family, but loves her siblings all the same.
Alyssa is very close with her dragon, and covets him. He is her protector in some twisted way, and she thanks him for it constantly.
Daemon and Rhaenyra don't allow her to be called a bastard by anyone. If someone does, they're guaranteed to get beheaded by her father and fed to Caraxes. Despite this, Alyssa has made peace with herself and knows what and who she is.
Due to her status as a bastard, Alyssa never marries.
Dragon: Balerion
In an AU where Balerion lives, Alyssa bonds with him when she's around eight or nine, right after Daemon takes her away from her home in Winterfell. Balerion and Alyssa are kindred spirits who are drawn to each other by their loneliness.
Balerion is very protective of her and has almost burned down Dragonstone due to this instinct to protect his rider. In turn, Alyssa spoils her gigantic beast, and when they're not flying over Westeros together, they rest on the beach of Dragonstone.
When Alyssa first bonds with him, she doesn't know any dragon commands. Therefore, their emotional connection is extremely strong. Even as she grows older, she rarely has to use them because the two of them are so in sync.
Angsty Info: Alyssa has a lover, Collette, who is a maid at Dragonstone. During the war, Collette is used against Alyssa by the Greens and killed horrifically. Stricken with grief, Alyssa nearly goes mad and burns down Harrenhall in order to get revenge against them.
Tragic medieval lesbians 💔
Spouses/Lovers: Collette Rivers
Children: None, but after the war, she becomes a mother figure for Viserys and Aegon.
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ahawi3 · 2 months
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Things I have learned while reading The Witcher series
Anyone who thought netflix was confusing because of different timelines. The first two books/short story collections are just like that.
I significantly prefer the book version of how sorcerers don’t physically age and how they loose reproductive ability
Every story is a dark version of a fairy tale. Ciri is little red riding hood, Renfri is Snow White, etc.
I love Renfri no matter the media
Jesus Christ the smell of lilac and gooseberries is mentioned any time Yennifer is even mentioned
I am still very pro yen/geralt/jasiker
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roran01 · 4 months
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I'm bored and I can't find motivation to draw, have my headcanons for Romania instead, some of these are simping and cringe, enjoy:
(Also adding a image to be easier to find this post cause for some stupid reason tumblr only shows posts with images in my blog's search bar now, tags are useless)
♤♡◇☆
1) Three words for this guy: 🌟Tall, blonde and beautiful.🌟
2) He's a fashion genius or a fashion disaster depending on your view but he still got drip.
His color choices are black and red (like no shite), sometimes blue for the jeans and warm colors in general, white and grey from time to time.
3) I'd consider him quite mixed, with some ethnicities leaving a noticeable influence but latin conquers most of his bloodline nowadays.
The slavic tendencies come out whenever he gets drunk.
4) Folks see him as eccentric... they're right.
5) He's one of the few countries with particular traits that are uncommon to the rest of the nations and society in general.
I could say it's magic if I want to be basic about it, but I don't, so here's some of them:
His eyes can see supernaturals like spirits, fairies, ghosts and demons although they rarely make their existence know nowadays.
Technically since he's a vampire that would make him one as well. (Actually I'll make a post about this)
He can communicate with the animals and understand them but won't act on it to not look crazy. So he doesn't visit the zoo too often.
He's interested in dark magic so you can say he vibes with the dark side too. In addition he's way too casual about the creepy factor of some things.
He can poses fire because I said so.
6) Besides the quirks about paranormal, he's charming, both in looks and personality as well until you get to know him better, then he gets a little silly that could mean anything.
The only canon thing I adopted from him is that he's mischievous, but I could make him worse :3
7) He's good with kids, he'd be one of those cool parents if he had any. (I could make parent headcanons)
8) He likes traditional food the best, anything with meat and potatoes but to be frank no one can resist pizza from time to time. He doesn't eat too salty, makes him thirsty easily.
He like savarine as a sweet and usually buys them, but if he wants home made he would chose lemon cake (snow white).
To be honest he eats a lot but at least he keeps himself in shape.
"What do you mean this bread has sugar in it??" He doesn't like american bread.
9) And he definitely is lean build, someone who survived 2 empires and russia isn't gonna be skinny af just because he doesn't show it.
My vision says his body beats the twink allegations, his face not so much... he's a twunk.
10) Speaking of, I like to think he does gymnastics and extreme sports for the thrill.
11) His imagination is wild so if he'd have a modern job it should be something that expands on it.
Like a writer for books or movies. He can cook well too (and mix all kinds of potions) so maybe a chef at a restaurant, Fashion artist, Modeling... I go for the writer though.
12) He has some scars on his body, most are small and unnoticeable but he's too self conscious about them so he's not wearing a lot of revealing clothes, at least he doesn't sweat much during summer.
Two noticeable scars are on his shoulder blades and one besides the left lilac region to lumbar.
The ones on his back I like to think of them as a metaphor for broken wings. The one below his abdomen happened due to his separation from Moldova.
13) Cat person, cat behavior and cat lover. He has at least 2 cats in his house and a little bat because why not?
One of the cats is a lynx because that's his national animal, but also because it's like having dog size cat, a big pile of fluff to snuggle on rainy day, a purring machine against your head and belly (I'm projecting a lot I know)
14) His relationship with his slavic neighbors, mainly balkans, is very capybara coded. He's just chilling around and none of them has any business with him nowadays. He's considered part of the family despite Romania being latin. He may feel more accepted by them than his family from west sometimes.
15) His relationship with his blood relative is kinda mixed and they don't communicate often, assumingly because of his status but proly because of the land distance as well.
He used to look up to them and hoped to be accepted and recognized as a romance country in the past. One out of two happened, he's content enough with that.
16) He drinks a fuck ton of red wine.
17) His fangs are the only teeth that can still fall and regrow, he's able to move and retract them.
18) The pupils in his eyes are vertical stilts that expand and contract, the thinner they get the more blurry everything besides the focus point becomes. Sometimes he wears glasses for that.
Funny thing about his pupils is that they can expand so much it cover the whole Iris. His eyes can also glow in the dark sometimes.
19) In human age he's 23.
20) He loves parks, a lot.
21) Keeps his house clean except his kitchen, until he has guests over. If uninvited you're not allowed in the kitchen.
22) Sleep schedule worse than you've seen in college. Get him to bed or he gets grumpy af.
23) Coffee addict because of that.
24) He doesn't like cold, but there's melancholic beauty in the landscape whenever it's night time and only the tree lights give an ounce of warmth during winter. It's a bittersweet sensation he can't describe properly, it's the same during rainy days or stormy nights. He likes it despite the ache feeling it gives.
25) Sunny days are enjoyable for many of his activities but he's usually more active during the night, which is unfortunate because he ends up sleeping too much during daytime and feeling awful for "wasting time" in bed.
26) His eye color switches from black to red sometimes.
27) Sexually speaking, he's definitely swinging both ways and sideways.
28) If he'd be a yōkai then it's Kitsune (nine tails fox) fits him the most. Also because I like to think he'd have a double pair of fangs from it.
29) I main ship him with: Bulgaria and Norway. Side ships: Greece and Hungary. Crack ships: Prussia, Japan, Belarus. Platonical: Egypt cause I like their aesthetics together.
30) But talking about how compatible he is with other characters. I'd say based on canon he is with Bulgaria. Based on history he'll be with Serbia (dude barely exists). Based on his zodiac sign he's with Hungary (the irony). Based on his mbti he's with either Norway or Japan.
31) Speaking of zodiac signs, he's a Sagittarius. (Although it's hard to identify precisely the "birthday" of countries, so I just go with their national days and his is on Dec 1) if you're into astrology a lot then he also has his moon in scorpio.
32) He is inclined to be overprotective for his close ones ever since he lost Moldova to Russia. He does it automatically without knowing until someone points it out.
♤♡◇♧☆
This may get updated from time to time
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twogyuu · 1 year
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Terrifyingly Innocent [Nineteen-Finale]
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Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader (ft. Jihoon)
Synopsis: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.
Genre: Fluff, angst, fake dating, fwb(?), slowburn, older brother’s best friend!Seungcheol, badboy!Seungcheol, innocent!reader, older brother!Jihoon, non-idol!au, university!au, low-key Crazy Rich Asians!au(Seungcheol is RICH - implied chaebol lifestyle, Jihoon and reader’s family aren’t chaebols and are commoners but well-off)
Warnings: Use of profanity, mentions of alcohol, inaccurate architectural information regarding Achillieon Palace, unedited (I was in a rush - my sincerest apologies)
WC: ~3.8k
A/N: We're at an end of a twogyuu era 😭 It's my first ever written series and with it, I do feel like I've learned and grown a lot as a writer. Since it was my first, admittedly it wasn't my best work looking back now, but I'm grateful to everyone who was willing to read it as I went along. I also saw recently that the masterlist hit like 1.2k upvotes and was like 🤯 Y'all really like this hot recycling!? LOL. Jokes, jokes - I'm very honored so many people wanted to read and/or actually liked this 🥺 Admittedly, I think this was the fic that really allowed my blog to flourish, so forreals, I'm really grateful. There were many moments where I was close to abandoning the series, but I'm glad I pushed through and I didn't - prove to myself (and all of you) that I can finish something 😭😂
To the lovely silent readers, the enthusiastic rebloggers, and everyone in between, thank you all so much for being patient and your constant support this past year as I worked through this fic 💙 without further ado, the happy ending (most of) you asked for 🤗
I'm not sure when I'm going to do a series this long again (low-key it was very taxing as much as I enjoyed it😭), but I hope you all enjoy my future works, long or short, just as much. Happy reading!
And for my take care ♥! anon who wanted the Hao sequel/ending - I have a surprise for you in the months to come, so watch out for it! (i.e. i need a little time to write it out 💀 and flesh out the whole story so ksjdfalkdjf)
Taglist: @wonwoojichu​​@itsveronicaxxx​ @ann-non​ @halfsaints​ @cheolright ​@yoozuku​ @catwonwoo​ @pwwarkjisung​ @listxn​@arikimtanapon​ @haobrainrot​ @autumn-lv​ @sleeplessdawn​@cheoriemoawa​ @nanamioo​ @rjsmochii​ @hobistigma ​@magical-spit​ @smuchsmut ​@wonwoosthetic​ @taestrwbrry​ @ahgastayzen​ @bibinnieposts​ @nixtape-foryou​ @d-noona​​ @jennie-rubyjane​ @greasywallboyluvr​ @billboard-singer​​ @wonuziex​​ @fanfic24 @jeonghanniehae95 @kayleeshinee @bsshjsjsn @confuchan
Unable to tag :( : @soonchanshua @missjopper @technicallypsychicmiracle @0f-course-why-not
previous || masterlist || fin
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Your childhood bedroom was always a safe space for you.
Whether you wanted to hide your tears from your family, you were angry at Jihoon, or just wanted to kick and scream about the latest Eighteen comeback, you could do it all comfortably here, and be completely vulnerable and raw with yourself. It was strategically decorated to reflect your unchanging, yet growing self: a shelf lined with your favorite books from childhood to your teenage years, lilac walls plastered with posters of bands you’ve grown to love throughout the years, and your favorite part: the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on your ceiling. 
They were seemingly childish, but you loved them. Whereas most girls your age would’ve opted for fairy lights at this point, you insisted on Jihoon helping you put them up in your last year of high school before he left for university, as short as he is. You didn’t like them because they were particularly aesthetic, no. They were tacky and cheap – sometimes you’d wake up in the morning and find that a star had fallen off overnight. Nonetheless, when your mind raced before falling asleep, anxious over college acceptances, or your heart was feeling heavy, the familiar neon green glow offered you a sense of comfort. With a deep breath, your eyes would scan across your ceiling and walls, and you’d count them until they lulled you to sleep. 
They were simple decor, maybe even ugly, but a sense of consistency that you needed, especially in these past few years. 
That’s what you were thinking, ironically, counting the glow-in-the-dark stars mindlessly too, when you heard pelting at your window. Crawling out of bed, you switched on your lamp and walked over, flinching when you saw a black pebble sailing at you. Fortunately, the glass of your window deflected it before it would have smacked you right between your eyes. 
You leaned over the ledge and peered down onto the driveway. 
Choi fucking Seungcheol. 
Oddly enough, his shoulders relaxed, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks, a soft smile settling on his cherry lips – he seemed almost pleased to see you fuming and hanging out your window ready to yell at him. 
What was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be tucked away in bed at his apartment near the university campus? If Seungcheol was here . . . was Jihoon here?
“You’re gonna pay for broken glass if you keep that up,” you hissed. 
“Happy to see you too, Y/N,” he grinned dopily. 
You rolled your eyes, glancing back to check the time before you replied. 
3:28AM.
“What are you doing here? At 4AM?!” you exclaimed. 
“I missed you,” Seungcheol teased. 
“Choi Seungcheol,” you warned. 
He only chuckled – god, how you hated how your brother’s best friend never took you seriously. 
“Let me up,” Seungcheol pressed on. He scratched the back of his head looking around. “You have some vines or something?”
You pointed down at the attached garage, a criss-crossed decor on the side leading up to your room. “You can try, but I can also just come down and open the door for you.”
Rolling up the sleeves of his white button up, he smirked. “Nonsense – what’s the thrill in doors when I can do this like the movies.”
“It’s real life, not the,” you paused as he was already shaking the decor to test its sturdiness. “Never mind.”
You watched him hook the toe of his shoe into the bottom hole and hoist himself up with his hands, his forearms flexing in the process. He must’ve been ripped if you could make out the shadows of his muscles if this shit lighting. Catching yourself admiring him too long, you tore your gaze away, rubbing your cheeks to get a better sense of yourself. 
This was Choi Seungcheol – your brother’s best friend. 
You turned back, noting how the metal was creaking under his weight. 
“If you break that –”
“Whoa! Umph!” Seungcheol missed a step and tumbled down. 
“Seungcheol!” 
He groaned at the soreness shooting through his back. Nervous that he broke his spine and may not be able to ever walk again, you abandoned your spot at the window and raced downstairs. You threw open the front door, forgetting to put shoes on, and rushed across the lawn to his side. 
“You idiot,” you stumbled down onto your knees, hands tracing over his body for any injuries. “I told you not to climb that thing.”
 He chuckled – after Jihoon, only you would ever be this worried about him after one of his stupid stunts. 
“You didn’t tell me to stop,” Seungcheol grunted, pushing himself up into a sitting position. 
Scowling, you sat back on your heels to allow for some distance between the two of you. 
“You said, ‘it’s real life, not the – never mind,’” he poked your forehead with his pointer and middle finger, “You never finished.”
If he could tease you this much, clearly, he was okay. 
“Asshole,” you shoved him, “You can just sleep on the lawn tonight.”
You got up and brushed the grass off your pajamas, heading for the front door that was left agape in your flurry. 
“Hey!” Seungcheol pouted, he heaved himself up, wincing at the ache already starting in his lower back, and chased after you. “Wait!”
“Just go home, Seungcheol – or call your chauffeur,” you waved him off, not bothering to look back. “I’m sure Mr. Kang isn’t that far away.”
His thick fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back. You tried your damned best to wriggle out of his hold to no avail – curse him and his newfound obsession with the gym. He was even stronger than before. 
He pouted, “I said I missed you.”
“Yeah and?” you furrowed your brows together. 
“Is that how you welcome a friend?”
“Technically, you’re Jihoon’s friend.”
“And by default yours.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you groaned in annoyance. This wasn’t going anywhere. “Just . . . go up to Jihoon’s room and sleep there, okay? It’s night – burglars and murderers are out. If we stay out here longer, the neighbors might call the cops. Let alone, you don’t want to wake my dad.”
A pleased smile graced his smug face. Seungcheol pushed passed you and skipped inside. When you entered, he was already running up the stairs. 
How odd. 
It wasn’t that the two of you weren’t friends, but you weren’t necessarily close enough for him to do things like this either. He was dressed nicely and you could’ve swore you caught a whiff of alcohol when you checked him earlier. You wondered what happened – a night out at the clubs again maybe? Jihoon had mentioned he was “going through a hoe phase.” He had to be drunk for him to come seeking you. Sure, he might’ve missed you but to no extent that he’d come visit you in the dead of night. 
When you entered your room, too lost in your musing, you failed to notice Seungcheol already collapsed on your bed. 
“Seungcheol,” you moaned, “What are you doing?”
He turned his head to look at you, his bread-like cheeks pressed into your comforter, smiling innocently. 
“Get off,” you poked his shoulder. 
“No,” he quipped. 
You pushed a little harder this time. “Get off – go sleep in Jihoon’s room.” 
He only buried his face in your pile of blankets. 
“Seungcheol – oof!”
He tugged you onto the bed and crawled onto your lap. Inhaling deeply, you definitely caught a whiff of the alcohol mixed with something sweet. He was definitely drunk – what were you supposed to do? You didn’t have experience dealing with drunk friends. 
“Stop yelling at me,” Seungcheol muttered. “Just,” he let out a shallow breath, already nodding off, “Let me sleep here for a bit.”
This was way too intimate of a position for you and your older brother’s best friend. His face? In your lap? 
It’d be rude to push him off when he was sleeping so peacefully though. When you had calmed down a bit, you took in his rather ethereal appearance. His lashes were perfectly curled and long – he was so close, you swore you could’ve counted each strand. Your eyes tracing down the straight of his nose, settling on his cherry red pout. It was almost as if he was always wearing lip tint. 
You weren’t quite sure why, but you felt an urge to card through his hair. You raised a hand, hovering nervously above his head – do you? Do you not?
You do. 
Seungcheol mewled at your touch, eliciting a blush on your cheeks. You were glad he was asleep and couldn’t see how affected you were at such a seemingly small act. 
“Missed you,” Seungcheol said again, much more softly this time. “I meant it.”
You only hummed in response. 
“Uni sucks.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He winced, snuggling deeper into your thighs. 
“Wish it was just you, Jihoon, and me forever.”
You chortled softly. “It can be if you want.”
He didn’t reply afterwards. You were only met with his soft snores.
That night, you never did find out why he came to visit. He was gone before you woke up the next day. 
“Have you always liked me?” you asked Seungcheol, staring off at the city below, mindlessly brushing through his dark locks similarly to that night all those years ago. 
“Hhmm?” Seungcheol looked up at you.
You smiled, letting your gaze fall to meet his own. His eyes were shining, the city lights reflecting off his dark irises and lighting up like neon green stars in your childhood bedroom. 
You were halfway through the summer already. Finals flew by like a train you were trying to catch. Graduation went by like a blur and then the flurry of parties that followed. Seungcheol was slowly starting to pick up responsibilities at Sebong Holding, while you, more shifts at the cafe. He still picked you after your shifts when he could – notably, coming into the cafe this time instead of waiting for you at the street corner. 
You had sorted things out with Jisoo as well; admittedly, a little awkward, but he was surprisingly very calm about it, telling you he figured you had your mind set on someone else given how preoccupied all the times the two of you spent together. Jihoon seemed to be the hardest one to convince regarding your relationship. Though he was reluctant and still suspicious, he was . . . slowly warming up to the idea of Seungcheol and you being together – for real. He doesn’t purposely sit in between the two of you anymore during car rides on night outs (“hands to ourselves please,” he’d grumble before and after the trip).  
Unfortunately, because of his busy schedule, you found yourself spending less time with Seungcheol than you both had intended this summer. Fortunately, however, that only made all the moments more precious, no matter how big or small. Nothing between the two of you changed since making it “official” per se. As Clara had put it, if you hadn’t come clean and confessed you and Seungcheol were fake dating, no one would have suspected it in the first place. 
“Could’ve fooled me,” Hansol had mused, alternating, quirking his eyebrows, “It was all very seamless and oddly natural now knowing that – as if he always had a crush on you or something.”
Tonight was one of those few nights Seungcheol had some free time and asked to go out for a drive to your now shared “safe haven,” simply in hopes of enjoying each other’s presence and the perks of a city view.
“Have you always liked me?” you asked again. 
“Why do you ask?” he turned back, pressing his cheek into the palm of his hands. 
“Reminds me of the last time we were like this,” you replied. “You remember? My senior year of high school – you showed up throwing rocks at my window.”
It was a bittersweet memory, but he was glad you were in it. 
“Yeah,” Seungcheol replied softly. 
“Well?”
He sighed. “I can’t say I didn’t think about it growing up.”
“So . . . you faked dated me on purpose?”
“What?” he shot up from his spot on your lap, frowning at you. 
You chortled and leaned back on the palm of your hand, tilting your chin towards him. 
Seungcheol took it as an opportunity to peck your lips. 
“I didn’t really think about liking you,” he looked sideways, considering his words before continuing again, “Liking you romantically until recently, at least. Sure it crossed my mind a couple of times how funny it’d be if we got married because Jihoon,” he noted the way your eyes widened humorously. He scowled at you jokingly, reaching over to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch nonetheless. “ I’ve always . . . had a soft spot for you though.” 
Slowly, a small, shy smile crept onto your face as you paused, letting a comfortable moment of silence pass. You turned your head to graze your lips across his palm. 
You shoved his shoulder playfully. “You’re incredibly cheesy, you know that?”
He did know, but he didn’t mind if it was you – not that he’d tell you that right now out loud. 
“We’ve come a long way, Y/N.” 
Seungcheol snaked his arms around your waist, sliding you across the hood of his car into his embrace. Foreheads touching, Seungcheol slotted his lips against yours, lazily kissing you. He broke away momentarily to let you better slant your head and ease into him – the press of your lips sudden and more fervent.
He didn’t think he could ever get tired of the taste of you.
“I love you,” Seungcheol whispered against your lips, “Gonna miss this when you’re gone.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you whispered back, “We still have time until then,” you placed a chaste peck on the corner of his mouth as if to reassure him, “And it’s not forever.”
“I know,” he whined softly, “Doesn’t mean I still won’t though.”
You let out a breathy chortle. “You’re whipped, Cheol.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
Teeth grazing on his bottom lip, you let them sink in lightly before tugging away to tease him. “I’ll gladly take the blame.”
Seungcheol let out a hesitant breath, unsure if now was a good time to bring up the topic. You weren’t necessarily hard to talk to – communication has been flowing easily between the two of you. The possibility of your relationship being nothing but a fever dream and ending in a month and half was just something he wasn’t sure he wanted – not when he was growing more attached to you by the day. He loved the way you texted him back telling him he was corny with the woozy-faced emoji after every ‘good morning’ message. The way “Cheol” rolled off your tongue sounded like a gentle music box to his ears. He loved the thrill of being able to hold you close when Jihoon wasn’t around. 
“Does this mean . . .?” his voice trailed off. 
You looked at him coyly, silently urging him to finish. 
“You want to keep trying?” He took your hint. “Long-distance and all?”
The corner of your lips twitched up, your eyes flickering to your touching fingers. 
“If you don’t know yet, you don’t have to tell me right now,” Seungcheol quickly added, his thumb grazing your chin. 
“No, no,” you were quick to reply, “I mean – no, I don’t don’t know yet, but yes, I . . . want this long-term.”
Seungcheol beamed at you. “Really?”
“Really,” your finger mindlessly traced his knuckles shyly, “During and after Greece . . . I’m just . . . nervous.” You breathed out hesitantly. 
Seungcheol smiled gently. “I am too, but we’ll figure it out – we always do.”
You nodded silently, dipping your chin into your chest in an attempt to hide your face from him. He could make out the sniffling between your breaths. 
“A-are you crying?” Seungcheol chuckled. 
“No,” you fibbed. 
“Baby girl, you are,” Seungcheol cooed. He raised your chin and swiped at your cheeks. 
“You’re just . . . so fucking corny, Cheol,” you smacked his chest lightly. 
A low laugh bubbling from his chest, Seungcheol pulled you into his embrace, squeezing you tightly as if you couldn’t be any closer to him. Planting a peck on the crown of your head, he stroked your back, reassuring you, “You are so in love with me.”
Despite having grown up with Seungcheol and having grown with him romantically these past few months, you were still as shy as ever to admit it. 
You were. 
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Epilogue (Bonus): 6 months later, Greece
“What are you doing today?” Seungcheol asked. 
You hummed softly, collecting your books and sliding them into your satchel as class was finishing up. The Mediterranean air was thick and humid, the papers sticking to the table rather easily. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you swiped at the sweat forming on your forehead, nodding at your professor on your way out and into the hallways. 
“I’m going to go visit the Achilleion Palace,” you told him, “Taking some pictures and gathering inspiration for a project.”
“That sounds exciting,” Seungcheol mused. 
“It is,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I wish you were here to see it with me.”
“Yeah?”
You rolled your eyes, descending down the steps of the lecture hall. “Of course.”
“I wish I was there too,” he said back to you. “Send me some photos alright? At least I can live vicariously through you.”
“Okay.”
“I gotta get back to work –”
“We are now boarding for gate 3A,” a formal voice sounded in the background. 
Your brows furrowed together. “Are you traveling right now for your dad?”
“Uhh, no,” Seungcheol hummed, “Just . . . picking a client.”
“Huh – you’ve never done that before.”
“Well, when duty calls and they’re important.”
“Fine,” you shrugged. He had no reason to lie to you. 
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” 
“Okay,” you relented. 
“Love you,” he sang. 
“I guess . . . I do too.”
“Very convincing sweetheart, but I know you do,” he smooched into the receiver. “Only 146 more days until I see you.”
“You’re still counting?!”
“What kind of long-distance boyfriend would I be if I wasn't?”
You both bid goodbye and hung up. Walking back to your dorm, you couldn’t shake off the strange feeling in your chest. 
Something wasn’t quite right. 
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The Achilleion Palace was magnificent. 
A three-story, stark white building surrounded by the greenery of the island by the clear blue water, you were in sheer awe that you had the privilege to come here and see it in person. You had seen pictures of it in textbooks, but none of the pictures did it justice. Nonetheless, you had taken out your camera to snap photos of the grand entrance. 
You waited momentarily for the tourists to clear before you aimed the lens at the building, making a point to ensure the marble pillars were symmetrical on either side of the shot. Just as you were about to snap the photo though, an annoying young man dressed in a black t-shirt and white shorts walked straight across your view. 
Your finger was poised, ready to press the button as he lingered along the edges, but then he walked across again. 
“Fucking prick,” you groaned, lowering your camera. 
You narrowed your eyes following after him. Suddenly, he was making a beeline towards you. As he grew closer, from his wide eyes to plush pout, his features were coming together and growing all too familiar. 
“Choi Seungcheol!” you feigned annoyance as you called after him. You tried your best to control your breathing, but it only grew uneven by the second. 
He grinned widely at the sound of his name, suddenly taking off in a run towards you. He laughed loudly, scooping you up into his chest and spinning you around. You squealed, clasping tightly around his shoulders. God how you missed his touch and the way you could almost never fully wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly as if you were the one running. Your hands slipped down against his chest. 
“Surprise?” he offered instead. 
You scoffed. “You were at the airport earlier.”
His hand played with your waist, tilting his head coyly at you feigning innocence. “And?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“That’d defeat the purpose of a surprise, sweetheart.”
“I don’t like surprises,” you fake pouted. 
Seungcheol pointed to the empty space behind him. “Should I? Should I go home then?”
“No!” you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist. “I-I . . . I missed you.”
“That’s what I thought,” he chortled, kissing into the crown of your head. “Missed you too.”
“You’re already here, so you might as well just stay . . . maybe a few days.”
“How about a week?” Seungcheol offered. 
Eyes wide, you pulled back. “A week?!”
He winked at you. 
“Wait how?” you frowned. You mind flitted back to the few news articles about the Sebong heir making more public appearances at events these days. “Don’t you have work?”
“Work,” he paused, trying his best to suppress his grin, “In Greece, yeah.”
A moment of silence passed as you peered up at him through your lashes, your heart swelling and manifesting itself on your lips into a stupid, hopelessly in love grin. It had been months since he kissed you goodbye at the airport and when you thought you wouldn’t see him until next year, he was here, in flesh, in your arms. The phone calls and text messages throughout the day were nice and comforting, but nothing beat seeing him in real time.  
“I’ll be a little busy some days, but I’ll make time to come see you,” he reached for your hand, loosely holding it and running his thumb across your knuckles. 
Some would argue that your time being together a little more than a year at this point was all part of the process and this giddy feeling whenever you saw one another was just part of your “honeymoon phase” that would soon start to fade. You’d like to think you and Seungcheol were different, however. Your relationship with one another was like a honeymoon phase that lasted a lifetime because you enjoyed all the little things about one another and with each other. It’s not that you were naive and weren’t expecting any problems to arise, but you’d hope that you could work through those and ride out this love story like they write in fanfiction on Tumblr. 
Perhaps you were loopy on feelings, but Choi Seungcheol was truly something else – a good something else. 
Launching yourself into his chest, you whispered those three damned words you were once so afraid of: “I love you.”
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enchantedbook · 6 months
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'The Hoodie Crow' from the Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang by Caitlin Hackett
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the-volturi-diaries · 11 months
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Wild Swan // Chapter Six: Forest.
A/N: I really liked the idea of Y/N being particularly close with Jacob and especially with Angela. She and Angela were genuine best friends. In this version, Quil imprinted on Angela and has thus asked her not to contact Y/N, not wanting any connection to the Volturi...though he might change his mind within time, if only to make her happy.
Pairing: Felix x Swan! Reader (female).
Taglist: @venusdelaroix @unintendedselfdestruction @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @biblophilefox82 @froggiesandbutterflies @tulipsvanilla @grinch-izzy @thelastemzy @mazdoe @spidersoldierofmischief
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An emerald forest…
Silent, dark and lovely, it appeared slowly upon the stone walls, brushstrokes so careful as it was painted beneath a pale sky. The silver of a gentle rainfall drifting down, down, down from soft clouds. The forest floor was of tall, tangled grass and wildflowers, shades of lilac and bone white and heavenly pink dotting the earth sweetly. Bark real enough to touch, almost rough beneath shaking fingertips, moss growing slowly upon the trees with every careful stroke. Branches that almost seemed to move in an unsung wind, comprised of a million shades of green. Hunter, sage, forest, and emerald...Evergreens swayed in a breeze you wished you could feel again…
Cold. It would be cold and sweet upon your skin, something of a kiss as you walked the trails.
You painted those too, paths that diverged through the emerald wood. They lead to small, secret things hidden in the distance.
Foxes in the trees and song birds in the air. A white house with an old tree in the front, two bedroom windows glowing, two sisters hidden away inside. Young lovers in a twilight blue embrace, a girl reading by violet light. And downstairs, in the faint and gentle glow of the kitchen light, a man sat at the breakfast nook, just as you remembered him. Flannel shirt, coffee mug in hand, a faint smile upon a handsome face.
In the tangle of a tall tree, half hidden in the shadows, was a tree house. Worn with age, moss growing in the corners and a bird’s nest upon the roof. Through the slightly crooked window, one could spy books and fairy lights, a telescope pointed out the window.
There was another house in the distance, the telescope pointing towards it. A small, red house, rough and lovely. Crimson for the wood, slate gray for the roof, white trim and the old rabbit out front.
If one were to look close, they might catch a glimpse of a figure or two in the wood.
Wolves running here and there, tracking something down in the dark. A couple dancing in the flowers, a pixie-like woman hidden in the trees, as though she might take flight, a little girl on an old swing. There was a boy with long hair and new moon eyes, leaning against a mossy tree, and a tall girl with glasses and the prettiest smile. The forest had grown vast without meaning to make it happen, desperate for that ever-after magic it once carried. Now it claimed an entire wall all the way to the left corner and a little more of the next, gathering closer to the window. But it wasn’t enough. Every time you came close to feeling the magic, it seemed to slip away, like sand falling through an hourglass. Some sudden realization would hit you coldly and you would spiral again into the dark.
One day, you would leave home and never be allowed to return again.
There would be an empty grave to mourn over, the still breathing corpse kept prisoner so far away from the mourning father...he’d be alone in that house, the girls vanishing from the windows one day.
Jacob and Angela, you’d never see them again.
Would she mourn you too? Would he hate what you’d become?
Beasts like him hunted beasts like you, realizing you’d be wearing the black cloaks and silver V of his most hated enemies...the ones who had destroyed those he loved most in Alice’s vision, the monsters he had been born to kill. Even Angela had reason to hate you, though you doubted she ever could, her own lover on the line in that almost war.
You carved names into the wooden trees with a paintbrush as your blade, every letter carved with such love. The name of everyone you’d ever known and loved, so that you would never forget them. This would be where you remembered, where you mourned, it would be your graveyard.
Bella Marie Swan, Mary Alice, and Charlotte Elizabeth.
Jacob Black. Angela Weber.
Charles Swan.
No one would be forgotten. No one would be able to take them from you, not truly. You’d fight it tooth and claw, every moment of it.
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dujour13 · 1 month
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OC Kiss Week - day 4
For my friend @cassynite 💜 Ophenia's books line the shelves of my mind palace
Ophenia has to brace her notepad with her elbows because the wind up here keeps trying to snatch it away and scatter its treasures to the Sellen far below.
What a romantic image, she realizes: lost love notes washed out to sea, each a fragment of a great tale of passion someone far away will glimpse, shorn of its context. A gift like a pretty piece of sea glass, the shards of shattered lives littering the sands of—
But she’s losing the thread of the story.
“…and I found myself hanging by my fingertips from the cliff, Ishiar raging against the jagged rocks far below, and all I could think about was how I'd dragged my friends to the Abyss and failed everyone who’d put their trust in me, and this would be a most fitting end and no more than I deserved, and I squeezed my streaming eyes shut and felt my fingers slip - when suddenly a horned shadow loomed over the cliffside! Then my hand was seized and the next thing I knew I was in his arms..."
She glances up from her notepad and her lips quirk. “Really.”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He uses his lilac shirt to wipe down the mouth of the wine bottle and passes it to her. Of course he suggested meeting on the dramatic cliffs outside Kenabres, and of course he didn’t think to bring wine glasses. Which is fine as far as Ophenia is concerned. She accepts the bottle and takes a swig.
“Hanging by the fingertips,” she repeats drily as she notes this down.
“Well, he did save my life.”
“No no, I like it. Don’t mistake me. Please carry on.”
As he does, they watch the sun slowly set over the Rejuvenated Lands.
“The entire Fleshmarket?”
“That part’s true.”
“Mm-hm.”
“It’s getting dark. You want a lift back to town?”
“A lift? Whatever do you mean?”
He gives her a hand up, singing as he does, and a brilliant flash like the sun coming out suddenly illuminates their cliffside picnic spot, and Ophenia finds before her a huge purple dragon with merry eyes and fairy wings.
But like everything, Ophenia takes this in stride. “So this is the baby havoc dragon in question?”
“Am I in question? Is it a good question? I hope it’s a silly question.” Aivu hunkers down and Siavash gives Ophenia a boost onto her back, then settles in behind her and urges Aivu into a thrilling leap off the cliff before they swoop toward the city.
When she’s finally back on solid ground and Aivu has disappeared through a gate to Elysium, Ophenia tries unsuccessfully to tame her windblown hair and refrain from a burst of girlish laughter.
“It’s been a long time since I…”
“Had fun for real?”
She bites her lip, unable to stop smiling.
“You make so many people happy with your stories,” he says, giving her a little kiss on the cheek. “Same time tomorrow? You’ll never believe what happened when we got back to Drezen…”
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f4er-ie · 1 year
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˚➶ 。˚ ☁️ taylor swift legacy challenge (swiftacy) for sims 3
hii! in this post i am gonna be sharing my legacy challenge i created using a simcord member’s taylor swift legacy for ts3 as a base. (credit to sugar!) this also takes inspiration from some sims 4 swiftacys. i hope you have fun with this if you try it! tag me in your gameplay screenies :3 ill be posting some of mine soon!
rules under the cut!
complete the given lifetime wish every generation
each goal must be met before the next heir takes over
♡ generation 1 - debut
colors: blue, green
world: any country-ish town, appaloosa plains
traits:  childish, ambitious, virtuoso, loves the outdoors, over-emotional
career: music
LTW: rock star
hobby: guitar
requirements:  
live in the same town your whole life
frequently play guitar for tips
have an unrequited love with someone in a relationship before moving on and having a fairy-tale romance with your soulmate
master guitar and charisma skill
♡ generation 2 - fearless
colors: gold, white
world: same town as gen 1
traits: equestrian, good, excitable, artistic, easily impressed
career: self-employed painter
LTW: master of the arts
hobby: painting
requirements:  
meet a sim in your teen years that you have an on-and-off relationship into adulthood with—break up twice before eventually getting married
have a close relationship with all your family members 
have a best friend from adolescence till death
have at least one horse (preferably white)
♡ generation 3 - speak now
colors: purple, pink
world: any, hidden springs
traits:  clumsy, hot-headed, bookworm, avant-garde, ambitious
career: journalist or self-employed writer
LTW: professional author
hobby: writing
requirements:  
must write 14 books, each named after a speak now song
date a least one person in the adult life stage during the first half of your young adulthood
fall in love with your best friend and convince them to leave their partner for you, eventually marry your best friend turned lover
specialize in writing romance novels
master the writing skill
♡ generation 4 - red
colors: red, black
world: starlight shores
traits: party animal, irresistible, diva, schmoozer, natural born performer
career: singer
LTW: vocal legend
hobby: social networking 
requirements:  
must experience a very bad break up with a kleptomaniac partner (where’d that red scarf go?)
date at least one celebrity at some point in your life
consistently throw parties with your closest friends
master singing and social networking skill
♡ generation 5 - 1989
colors: beige, dark lilac/blue
world: any city world, bridgeport
traits: star quality, charismatic, social butterfly, photographer’s eye, great kisser
career: actor
LTW: superstar actor
hobby: photography
requirements:
must have a close group of friends that you meet as a young adult (5+)
take photographs (polaroids) of your life and hang them around your room
have at least 3 failed relationships before finding the one
have one close friend in your teenage years that later becomes your enemy when you’re a young adult 
master photography and charisma skill
♡ generation 6 - reputation
colors: black/gray, dark green
world: any
traits: loner, kleptomaniac, hates the outdoors, brooding, brave
career: criminal
LTW: master thief
hobby: athletic 
requirements:
have at least 3 enemies and no more than 2 close friends
have 3 consistent affairs before leaving your partner and settling down with the third affair 
must steal something of value + a car from your ex partner
master athletic skill
♡ generation 7 - lover
colors: pastel pink, yellow, & blue
world: any tropical world
traits: excitable, friendly, family-orientated, hopeless romantic, cat person
career: education
LTW: surrounded by family
hobby: cooking/baking
requirements:
must have at least one cat 
partake in protests when possible 
always wear colorful clothing & makeup
be popular as a teenager in high school (have 5+ friends, have a significant other, join an after school activity, and attend every school dance)
break up with your high school sweetheart when you’re a young adult and find your soulmate while on a vacation—elope with them once you return to your hometown
♡ generation 8 - folklore
colors: light gray, mossy green
world: any woodsy world, moonlight falls
traits: green thumb, perfectionist, unlucky, gatherer, adventurous
career: self-employed gardener
LTW: the perfect garden
hobby: gardening
requirements:
live in a secluded, woodland area
must be in a love triangle as a teenager
reunite with an old friend from childhood as a young adult
master gardening skill
optional: become a witch as a young adult
♡ generation 9 - evermore
colors: brown, orange
world: any, riverview
traits: commitment issues, genius, loves the cold, rebellious, neurotic
career: law enforcement
LTW: forensic specialist: dynamic DNA profiler
hobby: logic
requirements:
have a close relationship with your grandparents
kill a friend’s spouse in retaliation for your friend’s murder
reunite with an ex partner from your teen years & marry them
have an ongoing affair during your marriage and end up with an affair baby—swear that it’s your spouse’s child for the rest of your life (this child will be the heir)
master logic skill
♡ generation 10 - midnights
colors: lavender, dark blue, gold
world: any
traits: workaholic, cat person, night owl, perceptive, dramatic
career: fortune teller
LTW: celebrity psychic 
hobby: mixology
requirements:
have a cat named karma
wait until you are halfway through adulthood to get married
write a single book about your family’s legacy
as an adult, discover generation 9’s infidelity and meet your other biological parent in secret
own a bar & name it after a song on midnights
master mixology
optional: frequently travel to france
: ̗̀➛  if for some reason you prefer to have the rules on a google doc, here's the link to that
thanks for reading!
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Ten Books to Know Me:
@chubsthehamster put out a "participate if you want to" call, and I fucking love books, so why not! 1. Johnathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke - Read this first in high school and it rewired my brain. Dense, intricate, a November day of a book, it is about the inequities of class, race, gender, and also about the dry stone wall down the lane and its intimacy with the ivy that's grown over it for the last century. There are magicians and academic confrontations.
2. Food in England, by Dorothy Hartley - Read this a year out of undergrad. This is the book that convinced me that I could actually do something worthwhile with my interest in history. It was also fundamental in kicking a few chunks out of my ivory tower, but that's probably a personal take-away rather than anything essential to the book. Learn a few hundred small practicalities that may or may not be applicable to modern life; you decide.
3. Sabriel, by Garth Nix - The first book that spoke to baby's latent goth tendencies. The worldbuilding still lives in the back of my head. Made me interested in WWI history. Read it in middle school, I think? It was such a breath of fresh air, and I admired the protagonist and her self-discipline and self-reliance so much. Probably the first book that made me really worry whether the characters would survive until the end, and boy howdy was that formative. Zombies, quests to save fathers, learning that the legacy you thought was a burden is actually your calling.
4. Ombria in Shadow, by Patricia A. McKillip - Read in undergrad, I think? I reread it a couple times a year. It's a go-to story for when I need something comforting and decadent. I love the gauzy quality of the worldbuilding, the understated approach to very real-world dangers. A royal bastard, a former royal mistress, and a sorceress' apprentice race to protect a child king and save the and the living soul of a city.
5. The Sandman, by Neil Gaiman, et al. - This story got me through my late teens and early twenties. Exactly the right flavor of tragedy to grab my brain and shake it like a maraca; fundamentally changed how I look at stories and narratives. Person-shaped cosmic mechanism denies personhood, falls face first into the hole he's been digging for himself for a billion years, hitting every consequence on the way down, and finds a morsel of peace at the end.
6. Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio (聊齋誌異), by Pu Songling (蒲松齡) - I read this first while doing research for a fanfic and came away hungry for every bit of "classic" Chinese literature in English translation I could find. I've always had a fondness for supernatural anecdotes (The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries, by WB Yeats, etc), but this is on the list because it was the initial experience in an ongoing foray into classic and modern East and Southeast Asian literature.
7. Underland, by Robert Macfarlane - Read this a couple years ago. Everything you ever and never wanted to know about caves and being under the earth. The texture of Macfarlane's prose is unlike anything else, and he spends 500 pages leading you in and out of the dark.
8. Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett - This is my compromise instead of just listing every Terry Pratchett book. I read this when I was 12, and I mean it in earnest when I say it shaped how I think to this day. Pratchett's work is a load-bearing beam in my brain. Another grey book, but also lilac.
9. A People's History of the United States, by Howard Zinn - Okay look, LOOK, I know what you're thinking, but I read this when I was a teenager living in an extremely conservative pocket of a very liberal state. It made me think, which I was good at avoiding because school came easy to me and I usually didn't have to engage my brain at all to have the right answers. I wish with all my heart that I could write to the teacher who assigned it, because it was the very first time anyone had ever made me read history outside a history textbook. I resented that man so much at the time, but I owe him my current career.
10. Stiff, by Mary Roach - Read this as a teen and finally got answers about death I hadn't gotten in a lifetime of religious education. I think I actually snuck it into Mass, because I have a distinct memory of cramming it between the cushion and arm of a pew. Sparked an interest in death and human remains that lead me closer to where I am today.
Please consider yourself tagged if you'd like to participate! And tag me back so I can add more books to my tbr list, please! <3
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