#event: eternal spring

[prcttyinpcnk]

"Hey!! I'm so sorry! I got so caught up with my friends, and my dad, and my moms, I didn't even think to check on you after everything!!"

Well, being in a panicked state of grief can mess with your memory... Still, Phiona found that as no excuse. She needed to take care of everyone and make sure that everyone was safe! Things are extra dangerous now!

"Oh! You don't even know my name, do you? It's Phiona! Phiona Souris!"

Weird time for a proper introduction, but better late than never!

[ XXX ] @theoldsecretkeeper

[rcseteaparty]

@prcttyinpcnk asked:

Even if you can't see me. Even if you can't hear me. I'm here. The roses bloom for you ... I love you.

(For Harper of course.]

Harper’s ear twitches, axe held off from its swing and now resting against her shoulder. She closes her eyes and there’s a gentle sigh followed by a deep breath. 

Something burns in her chest with a new determination, and words she’ll leave for when her hands are holding her princesses again.

[lamentmournanddespair]

A low rumble of thunder across the sky punctuates many heads turning as one.

And as the echo sounds over the great growth, a split second...

Turns into several more seconds, when a blade plunges into that instant and tears it open. That gap in time, between potential and destination... was all that he needed.

Wuthering Heights can hide in many places, but he will always find them, no matter where they go. No matter what ends to which timelines they conceal themselves within. They will be found.

The gap between seconds closes.

They will return with their spoils soon.

[pizzamassacred]

(kxllerclaws) “What are you doing here.” It may have been a question, but it very much carried the inflection of a statement. Chimizo was not pleased to find Spirito skulking about the outskirts of the forest, given what he last remembered of him.

Perplexed, Cherish poked her head out from behind her father, casting him a quizzical glance. He usually only acted like this within reason, but did they really have time to be beefing with this spirit? “Papa. Please don’t start anything right now,” she urged, which did not placate him as much as she would have liked it to.

In fact, he was unfazed, pointedly glaring. This must have been highly bemusing, considering they never actually met before.

Who wants to know? And more importantly, why should I be telling you my reasons for being anywhere?

Geez. Who was this random, coming up to have beef with a ghost who doesn't even know who the hell he is? Granted, Spirito's aware that his presence may be both palpable and read as exceedingly negative, but he's definitely unaware of this stranger's connection to a certain island representative he may have juiceboxed in the past.

That's some good advice. Don't start anything with me. If you're here for the reason I'm thinking of, you've got much better and more productive things to do, right?

Slowly, his ethereal gaze trails back to the wild forest. Right?

[ycungmagick]

It happened over night.

Ophelia went from a tiny girl with a small shop, to now creating a sanctuary for the young and old to protect from the effects of this now eternal spring.

She's unsure how or why this happened, but the fairies that ventured to and from the forest to tell her news mentioned one name... Ynemn.

She's not deterred. She's dealt with something younger. She doesn't have her mother this time, but... she's prepared. And strangely... her mother never left. Her main focus right now? It's protecting the innocent. She'll find who's truly responsible and stop them herself. Right now. Tend to the weak and innocent. That's the most important part.

[cheftasks]

" ain't like it matters. my shit's all covered in fuckin' flowers.

... wonder if you c'n grill evil plants ... ? "

[prcttyinpcnk]

@theoldsecretkeeper asked: "Hey, phionaaaa!! Where are you? I am as blind as a bat! I need you for something important!" Hey, it was Margarita! And she sounded.. Excited?? -

Phiona was going over a few game plans with her friends when she hears a voice calling her name. Odd. That sounds... familiar. No, it can't be.

"One sec, guys."

It takes no time at all for Phiona to locate Marg. Odd. She seemed... happy. What's even weirder is, Phiona's gut is telling her that this is a good sign. She looks at the camp and them back at Marg. Something was missing. Or rather... someone.

"Gimme a sec, Marg! I'm gonna go get dad!"

With that, the young witch heads to the big top to retrieve her father. Hopefully it's something good. They need some good news.

"Dad?! Hey Dad!!"

@lultimagoccia

[pcrfumebcttles]

She cannot catch a break can she?

First this eternal spring nonsense, then a sudden winter storm, now the forest is trying to eat people. Madness.

...Even so, what is her life without a little madness? With the others back home, she was now racing through the forest on Daisy's bike, slashing and hosing down any threat that came their way.

She knew he was here. This was Creech's forest going haywire. She that he was in here to help his wife... and she'd be here to help him too. She knows all too well what it's like to lose someone so precious to you. She won't let him suffer like that.

"Wait for me, Pino. I'll be there soon."

[rcseteaparty]

@prcttyinpcnk asked:

She could've sworn that she heard their voice. It was unmistakable. That soft southern drawl that brought a sense of peace in her heart. Her beloved. Her knight.

"HARPER!!"

Phiona ran as fast as her legs could carry her as she quickly wrapped Harper in her arms in a tight embrace. How stupid she was, running around making sure everyone was safe, and had no time for her beloved... How stupid and selfish she was....

 “Easy now, easy.”

Wasn’t just the people who had to keep moving, but the critters too. Harper was doing her best to help her parents with that when she heard a familiar-

“Phi?!”

Harper practically picks her up, arms wrapping around her tight as they meet and her tail wagging up a storm.

“...Hey now.” 

Gentle kisses above each eye before she lets go only to softly cup Phiona’s face.

“I want ya to take a deep breath for me, okay? You're here and I'm here…promise~.”

[lamentmournanddespair]

the forest knows what you have taken . even now , it rises up to greet you , wrapping vines around your men and pulling them deep , back into the earth . bone , broken by ever green . branches scrape and thorns pierce .

in the distance , there is the faintest of light .

Thorns pierce but the pain is so forever engrained that it is just another moment of life.

The dirt devours them. But the rain washes down just overhead, like a personal cloud, and those bones are revealed again. A low rumble of thunder promises lightning that never comes.

Vines are scraped and gashed but never cut clean through. Left to mend, left to live. Every step, heather blooms and when the foot is lifted, heather decays.

"You used them not," the Erlking growls, "and yet you try to take them from me? Just as all things do..."

[clearly-squishy]

For the second week of the Free! Spring Event 2024: "Words that we couldn't say"

Word Count: 2,276 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Matsuoka Rin & Nitori Aiichirou

Characters: Nitori Aiichirou, Matsuoka Rin, Yamazaki Sousuke

Tags: Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Failure, Ai Needs a Hug, Set in Season 2, Free Spring Event 2024, Swearing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Free! Eternal Summer

Summary: Freshly informed that he didn't make the cut for the medley relay for prefecturals, Ai quickly loses himself to the swarm of racing thoughts swirling around his mind. This was his last chance to swim a real relay with Rin, and he had nobody to blame for his failure but himself.

[ycungmagick]

How the forest howls and hungers.

...And yet, each step she took was slow and graceful. The violent plant life and soil was quickly tamed by the spreading of spores and fungi radiating off the young witch.

A living biogazard.

Her once unassuming broomstick now a scythe to reap the plant life that dare threaten her. It is harvesting season after all.

Plants, Mortals, Gods, all would know the sting of the reapers scythe eventually.

But for Ophelia...?

"You cannot kill me in a way that matters...."

[lultimagoccia]

(kxllerclaws) Perhaps one last sweep of town was in order. Donning their human disguises, the two family members took in every sight they could, appreciating the sense of community in the air. No one was left to fend for themselves, which was heartwarming to see.

All seemed to be normal. But Charles could not help but notice Muse, who looked a little too much like another Fake he had unpleasant memories of. Thankfully, their overall demeanor and the scar on their face differentiated them enough to prove it could not be him. Still, it was a little unsettling.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to stare.” He coughed. “We’re not from around here, so we’ve been meaning to ask someone about what’s been going on. If you don’t mind, would you happen to know anything? It doesn’t matter what, big or small.”

Nice save, Cherish’s sidewards gaze seemed to express. She had no clue why he was drawn to this person in particular, but a gut feeling told her there was a reason for it.

Watch Peppino, watch Peppino ... he was SO out of practice with tracking the one guy he'd been created to terrorize! Already they'd let themselves get distracted with offerings of food and conversation, and they'd nearly allowed their charge to escape their watchful gaze!

It was embarrassing, was what it was. HIGHLY unprofessional!

" What we know? What we know ... " Muse repeated anxiously, their gaze just beyond the duo as they tried to keep track of Peppino. " Many things, friends! Big things, trees, lots of trees, pretty trees full of flowers and vines. Very hard to climb, did you know this? Frustrating! Small things ... many plants cause rashes. This, we know now. Small plants. Big pain. HORRID! Starting to hate forests, a small amount. Most of all we feel love. But hate, a small amount, too. "

[cheftasks]

a lot had changed for maurice, real fast.

thank god he had ada to help ease him through it, or he would have punched a LOT more holes in the walls of his sweet new beach home. the place still kinda smelled like old person ( and ... fur?? for some reason??? did gramps have a dog maurice didn't know about or something??? ) but it wasn't too bad. he had his kid with him, and most of his possessions had finally been brought overseas from his apartment in the states.

yep. a lot had changed, since he came to the island for the funeral.

nonno willing his former home to his estranged grandson was ... something, alright. but he refused to pussy out on the challenge. fuck that. if dear ol' pops was gonna give maurice a free house, then fine. he could handle the responsibility just fine. he'd show that dead guy a thing or two.

it was with this determination in mind maurice opened the door out to his back porch to reveal ... there was no porch. only lots and lots of plants. like an absolute jungle out there, where once had been a beautiful beachfront property.

" ... what the fuck ...? "

[prcttyinpcnk]

"Peppino!? You there!?"

Could he not here her!? Did something happen?? She runs around the shop looking in different windows. It's so dark. Panic starts to set in as she didn't even think of using darkvision to peer through. Oh gods, what if that cretin made like some weird dryads to hurt him!

"Hey! Bossman! Just lemme know you're okay in there!? Please!? I'm getting worried!"

She started to feel a familiar chill in the bones of her fingertips. Please be okay...

[ XXX ] @lultimagoccia

[pucksandpower]

Meet Me at the Met

Lewis Hamilton x up-and-coming singer!Reader

Summary: in which you go head over heels (quite literally) during the most important event of the year and end up right at the feet of none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton himself

Warnings: minor injury

The roar of the crowd hits you like a tidal wave as you step onto the iconic themed carpet of the Met Gala. Flashing bulbs from countless cameras nearly blind you as you blink rapidly, trying to adjust. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it thrumming in your throat.

“Over here, honey!” A photographer calls out, gesturing for you to turn towards him. You pivot gracefully, the layers of shimmering tulle from your Maison Margiela gown swirling around you.

“Work it! Look this way, sweetheart!” Another shouts, snapping shot after shot.

You take a steadying breath, channeling every ounce of confidence you can muster. This is your first Met Gala, the biggest night of your fledgling music career so far. One misstep could be disastrous.

Your publicist Samantha appears at your side, perfectly put together as always in a sleek sheath dress. “You’re doing great,” she murmurs with an encouraging smile. “Just keep smiling and be yourself.”

Nodding, you continue gliding down the iconic path, pausing at the designated spots to pose for the ravenous paparazzi. An elegant string of Bulgari emeralds adorns your neck, glittering mesmerizingly under the bright lights.

“Miss! To your left please!”

You turn obediently, the intricate beadwork on your deep blue-green gown catching the flashes. Despite the oppressive late spring humidity, you refuse to let a single drop of sweat show. This night is too important.

After what feels like an eternity, a security guard appears to usher you up the final flight of stairs and into the main event. With a brilliant smile plastered on your face, you make your way carefully up the steps, lifting the delicate train of your dress to keep from tripping.

Suddenly, one sparkly heel catches on the fabric and you’re thrown off balance. Unable to catch yourself, you tumble head over heels back down the stairs, gasping in shock and pain as you land hard on the ground.

There’s a collective intake of breath from the crowd as you blink up at the bright lights, thoroughly stunned. Your vision is blurred and there’s a sharp throbbing in your head. When you try to push yourself up, bolts of agony shoot through your right wrist.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” A deep, accented voice sounds from beside you.

You turn your head and your breath catches in your throat. Crouched beside you in an exquisitely tailored double breasted suit and wool coat is arguably the most handsome man on the planet. His beautiful coffee-colored eyes are filled with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a loose strand of hair from your face.

“I … I think so,” you manage to stammer out, though your pounding head begs to differ. “Just clumsy, I guess.”

Despite the sheepish grin you attempt, a wince of pain crosses your features as you shift positions. Lewis’ brow furrows and he places one large hand on your bare shoulder to keep you still.

“Easy there, love. Don’t try to move just yet,” he soothes in that rich baritone that has melted millions of hearts. “You took quite a nasty fall.”

You nod mutely, unable to tear your widened eyes away from his handsome face. This couldn’t be happening … could it? Did you really just faceplant in front of the entire world and, perhaps more importantly, your celebrity crush?

“S-Sorry,” you whisper, utterly mortified. “I’m usually much more graceful than this, I swear.”

Lewis chuckles warmly and you feel your cheeks flush. “No need to apologize, darling. These things happen to the best of us.”

Nearby, Samantha is frantically trying to wave over security and a medic, her expression pinched with worry. You groan quietly as another stab of pain lances through your skull. Definitely a concussion, if your swimming vision is any indication.

“Let’s get you looked at, yeah?” Lewis murmurs, rising fluidly to his feet.

Before you can protest, he slips one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, cradling you gently against his firm chest. You suck in a shocked breath at the sudden movement, instinctively reaching up to grab onto his shoulders for stability. His Burberry suit is buttery soft under your fingers.

“Whoa … y-you really don’t have to carry me,” you stammer out as he easily lifts your frame.

Those rich brown eyes meet yours with an amused glint. “I insist. Can’t have one of the brightest new voices in music getting any more hurt, can we?”

You bite your lip shyly, unable to hold back a small smile of wonderment. Is this really happening right now?

“I’ll be fine, honestly,” you try again as Lewis maneuvers around the gathered crowd, heading for a discreet exit with Samantha close behind. “Just a little banged up.”

“Your wrist is already swelling, love,” he points out with a frown. “Best to get it checked properly, yes?”

“I … yeah, okay,” you acquiesce quietly, not having the energy or brainpower to argue with him further.

The two of you disappear through a door and down a mercifully empty hallway, leaving the stunned crowd and flashing cameras behind. Samantha is rapidly conversing with security to locate the nearest medic station.

“Thank you,” you murmur, letting your head rest wearily against Lewis’ shoulder. Up close, he smells incredible — like crisp bergamot and just a hint of expensive cologne. “For helping me, I mean. I’m sure you had better things to do tonight than playing knight in shining armor.”

Lewis smiles down at you, eyes crinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. “What a coincidence, I just so happen to be a knight.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling shy under his warm gaze. “Lucky for me then, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he agrees with a wink. “Though I can’t take all the credit. That dress is clearly too stunning for us mere mortals to handle.”

A watery giggle slips past your lips before you can stop it. Even slightly concussed and in quite a bit of pain, you can’t deny that foreign flutters are dancing in your stomach just from being in Lewis’ presence. He’s even more charming in person than you ever could have dreamed.

“You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton,” you tease lightly. “But I’ll be sure to leave the couture gowns at home next time.”

Lewis opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Samantha hurrying over with a young medic in tow, his kit already open. The worried expression on her face deepens when she sees your obviously injured wrist cradled against your chest.

“Thank god you have her,” she exhales in relief, nodding towards Lewis. “What do we know so far?”

“Took a pretty hard fall down those stairs,” Lewis explains calmly as the medic kneels down to begin his assessment. “She was unconscious for a moment and seems to have injured her wrist as well.”

You wince as the medic gently prods along your forearm. “Definitely a sprain at the very least,” he confirms. “And with the way her pupils are reacting ...”

He shines a small light into both your eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’d say mild concussion too. We should get her to the infirmary for further evaluation, just in case.”

Hearing his words, a small wave of panic crashes over you. Missing any part of tonight because of this would be devastating. You force yourself to sit up straighter, ignoring the way the room spins sickeningly.

“No, no I’ll be fi-”

“You’re not going anywhere but to get checked out properly,” Lewis cuts you off firmly, placing a staying hand on your shoulder. His expression brooks no argument. “Head injuries are nothing to mess around with, love.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but Samantha quickly interjects. “He’s absolutely right. We’re not taking any chances with your health.”

As much as you hate to admit it, they do have a point. If your condition really is as serious as the medic suggests, it could be dangerous to simply brush it off. You let out a resigned sigh, wilting back against Lewis’ sturdy chest.

“I suppose you’re ri-”

Before you can finish your sentence, a sudden dizzy spell washes over you. Bile rises in your throat as the room tilts crazily. Your voice trails off into an anguished groan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fighting off waves of nausea.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting you looked at immediately,” Lewis declares. He shifts you effortlessly in his arms and strides down the hallway, the medic and Samantha hurrying to keep up.

The rest of the journey to the infirmary is a blur. You’re vaguely aware of being transferred to a gurney and giving the doctor on staff your information. Lewis’ worried face keeps appearing in your line of vision, his voice a soothing balm against the incessant pounding in your skull.

Finally, the doctor confirms that while your concussion isn’t serious, you definitely need to be monitored overnight. A brace is fitted around your sprained wrist and you’re given strict instructions on managing the symptoms over the next few days. Throughout it all, Lewis remains stubbornly by your side, declining offer after offer to return to the main event.

Thoroughly drugged and exhausted by this point, you can barely keep your eyes open as a wheelchair is brought over to transport you out to the car waiting area. Lewis helps you into it carefully, crouching down in front of you with a tender expression.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble miserably, gesturing vaguely to your bandaged wrist and slightly dazed state. “I’ve completely ruined your whole night … your entrance, your photo ops … everything.”

He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head adamantly. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. I’d take meeting someone as wonderful as you over all of that any day.”

You blink up at him in surprise, an embarrassed blush staining your cheeks. Did he really just say that? Lewis Hamilton, world famous athlete and heartthrob, thinks you’re wonderful?

“Still,” you protest weakly. “This is supposed to be your night to shine. And now you’re stuck playing nurse for a clumsy fool.”

Lewis arches an eyebrow sternly. “I think you’ve bumped your head around a bit too much, darling. That’s no way to speak about yourself.”

He reaches out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingertips grazing your flushed cheek with unexpected tenderness. Your breath catches in your throat at the gentle gesture.

“Missing out on some silly party is more than worth it to me if I got to meet someone as lovely as you,” Lewis continues honestly. His eyes are filled with sincerity. “The only thing I’m upset about is that you were the one who got hurt.”

You’re rendered speechless for a long moment, completely disarmed by his words. Never in a million years could you have imagined this kind of scenario playing out tonight. Is this all really happening?

Finally, you manage a weak smile, blushing furiously under his warm regard. “You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton.”

“Please, call me Lewis,” he insists with a wink. “And let me know where you’re staying, yeah? I’ll come by tomorrow to check on how you’re doing myself.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you quickly scramble to recall the name of your hotel. “U-Um, the Lotte New York Palace,” you stammer out shyly. “But you really don’t have to do that ...”

Lewis waves off your protest easily, rising to his feet with a soothing grin. “Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll be by with some breakfast to make sure my favorite new artist is being properly taken care of.”

With a final wink and dazzling smile, he steps aside to allow an assistant to wheel you towards the exit. Your head is still swimming, though you can’t blame it entirely on the concussion this time.

Did Lewis Hamilton, actual living legend, really just say he was coming to check on you tomorrow?

You allow yourself a tiny, bewildered smile as the night breeze washes over your heated cheeks. Somehow, despite all the mishaps, this crazy night had turned into something straight out of the kind of romantic comedy you secretly loved.

Perhaps falling on your face in front of the entire world wasn’t so disastrous after all.