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annymation · 9 months

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The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 5- When Blue Turns Green

Chapter 4

(This one has more of my commentaries than most because I was feeling chatty today, let me know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing)

“…Yes… I do have a wish”

Magnifico holds in a laugh, just a bit longer, gotta hold in the act just a bit longer.

Magnifico walks towards her slowly with that same gentle smile he had at the wish ceremony “I knew you had it in you, just needed a lil push, right?” the king extends his hands in front of her, the same way he always does when getting people’s wishes “May I?”

He asks, as if Asha had a choice.

Asha stares at his hands… It’s not like she can actually grant this wish she’s thinking about right now, so she might as well let the king do it for her.

(… Oh you’re waiting for me to say what’s the wish she’s thinking of? Lol this is the chapter opening, read more if you wanna know)

Asha closes her eyes.

Takes a deep breath.

She thinks about her wish.

And…

She forgets.

Magnifico is holding her wish.

Asha thought that after giving up her wish she’d feel a great sense of relief, like a weight being lifted from her shoulders. That’s at least what everyone in Rosas says it feels like…

She feels lied to, because there’s no sense of relief to be found at all.

She feels like she just forgot something really important, it’s not her interest in drawing though, it’s something else, but she can’t for the life of her remember what… She feels like part of her is missing.

While Asha is going through all that emotional turmoil, the villains are looking at her wish as if it’s the most adorable thing in the world.

“Now, was that so hard? All you had to do was think about it and *snaps his fingers* there’s your wish” He says while making the wish bubble levitate slightly above his hand

“Oh and what a beautiful wish it is, it really does suit you well, Asha” the queen complemented in a honeyed voice

“Th-thank you?” Asha doesn’t really know how to react to the complement, of course it suits her, it’s literally the most essential part of her…

Oh god, did I actually just give that to them?

“Could I… maybe take a look at it?” She says meekly raising her hand to reach out for the wish.

Magnifico swiftly moves the wish away from her and holds it above his head, like a bully keeping a toy away from a smaller kid.

“Ah ah ah noooooo peeking~” he singsongs in a mocking reprehending tone “You know the rules Asha, you’ll remember your wish only after I grant it for you” he explains like he’s talking to a toddler.

“I… I know but… Why’s that even a rule again?”

“Oooh you and your questions haha” he laughs while pinching her cheek and shaking her head “It’s more fun that way, sillyhead! So you’re surprised when it does come true!”

(I wanna murder this man I’m writing, I might actually just give Aster a gun idk)

Asha notices how the king is acting more… Mean than before, like yeah he has been kinda pushy and overly touchy with her, and disrespected her father’s beliefs earlier. But other than that he was being nice overall…

Now it just seems like he’s making fun of her and treating her like a child.

That’s because he has no reason to keep the mask on, he got what he wanted so why keep pretending he respects her at all, right?

Asha rubs her cheek that now feels sore because of the king’s grip, she was already feeling small in their presence before but now she feels like she’s the size of an insect.

“Patience is a virtue, my doll” the queen states serenely.

Magnifico glances at his wife with a little “Oh I see what you did there” smirk, referring to how she just called Asha a doll, get it? Cause he just turned her into a doll minutes ago with an illusion.

“Tell you what Asha, I was going to grant all of today’s wishes next week, buuuut because I like you soooooo much I shall grant them all… TONIGHT! So you’ll remember it by morning, how about that?” He exclaimed with his usual over the top energy.

In case y’all need a refresher, in my rewrite wishes are granted at night, while everyone sleeps, so when they wake up they can already tell their wish was granted.

Asha is feeling really lost, she doesn’t know what to say or what to do “Yeah that… that sounds great, can’t wait” she forces a clearly fake smile

“Oh I’m sure you can’t my dear, so how about you just take your leave now and go to sleep humm? The sooner you do the faster tomorrow will arrive!” The king says as he guides her to the exit of the treasure room

Asha’s eyes widened in confusion “Wh-what? But didn’t you say dinner was in an hour?”

The king had to hold in a laugh once again. The girl actually believed she’d be allowed to sit with them? How pathetically naive.

“I know Asha, but I just can’t help but notice how tired you are.” He says giving her a fake expression of pity

“Yes little one, you almost fell on the floor a minute ago had I not caught you” The queen adds “Clearly you need sleep, today was a big day for you, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not tired really I just-“

“I said” the king interrupts, his voice stern this time, as he makes direct eye contact with Asha and his blue eyes turn green for a second “You are tired, you should go home, now.”

Asha is frozen in place as she nods slowly “Okay.”

(If you’re wondering why he didn’t use this mild hypnotic ability earlier when they were trying to convince her to give her wish, it's simply because it had to be her choice to give it away, otherwise the magic doesn't work)

The king’s expression relaxes “That’s better…WELP!” He snaps his fingers and starts talking really fast “There! Now all the doors that lead to the exit are open! Thank you for coming sweetheart! Nighty night now! Sweet dreams! Buh-byeeeee!”

B L A M

The door slams on her face

Asha’s now outside the treasure room all alone

About 5 seconds pass

The door opens again

“Don’t forget your goat.”

Magnifico’s is holding a very happy Valentino by the colar of his little goat sweater

He drops Valentino on Asha’s arms and-

B L A M

The door closes again.

…

“Good night…”

She says quietly and starts walking down the stairs, making her way back to the exit.

As she walks we cut back to the couple real quick.

Magnifico has his ear glued to the door trying to hear Asha’s footsteps getting farther away. He has mischievous smile on his face.

Amaya is just standing there watching him do so, smiling just as wickedly as her husband.

“Is she gone yet?”

“Shh shhh wait” he signals to her with a finger on his lips

He no longer hear her steps, she’s far away enough.

Magnifico cannot hold it in anymore and starts letting out a wheezed laugh…That grows into a cackle… And then evolves into an outright deranged fit of uncontrollable laughter as he’s leaning on the door hugging his sides.

Amable is laughing along with him, letting a dark chuckle that grows into a maniacal giggling.

Their voices echo through the dark room.

(… I need you guys to understand these two are losing their minds because they successfully manipulated an 18 year old… Because they’re petty she raised her voice to them in public… These people are in their 50s… What I’m saying is the straights are not okay)

So we cut back to Asha who’s getting near the entrance of the castle, and just like how the king said, the door is open.

Her expression is a mix of lost, sadness, but most of all defeat.

Even though she understands she’ll get this wish granted tomorrow, it was still something that was taken away from her

She doesn’t feel like she’s whole anymore.

“Is this what people travel days on end to experience here in Rosas? Give away part of themselves… So they can have it be made a reality by someone they don’t even know?”

She hugs Valentino tightly, and he realizes something is wrong, so he begins licking Asha’s cheek.

She smiles a little bit with that “Thanks Val. I’ll be okay.”

She puts him on the floor to take some deep breaths before she leaves

She starts talking to Valentino (more so to herself, really)

“I mean, maybe I’m just being dramatic, like they said, I’ll get my wish granted tomorrow, right? Then I’ll feel normal…”

She's distracted talking to herself so she doesn’t notice…

That the door to the room where the queen left Bravo in earlier…

Is open.

“But then again… Those two are really not how I thought they’d be at all… I mean yeah, I knew Magnifico was a bit full of himself sometimes and the queen was… well, actually till today I’ve never seen her being nothing but sweet… They were just acting so strange ya know Val?… Valentino?”

“Maaa! Maaa!” Valentino starts bleating, but not to talk to Asha…

He’s talking to Bravo, who just so happens to not have had his dinner yet, and is preparing to pounce at the naive baby goat that just thinks he found a new friend.

“VALENTINO!!! NONONONOGETAWAYFROMHIM!!!” She runs as fast as she can and manages to catch her goat just a millisecond before Bravo made his move.

The lynx is now growling at her aggressively, she looks behind her and sees the door of the castle opened, she can make a run for it and someone outside might be able to help her, she can do it.

Buuuut Valentino is panicking, realizing the gravity of the situation and he kicks his legs to run away, making Asha accidentally drop him.

“NO NO VALENTINO COME BACK!”

He runs up the stairs and the lynx runs after him, Asha obviously follows them running like her life depends on it.

“BAD KITTY! THATS NOT YOUR FOOD THATS MY GOAT!!”

She runs and gets close enough to the wild cat to step in his short tail. He lets out a scream of pain and turns to her with blood thirty eyes

“… Uh That- That was an accident hehehe” she nervously says as the cat prepared to jump no her

She manages to dodge him and starts running up the stairs after Valentino, with the lynx just after them

She’s realizes they’re getting near the treasure room again

“KING MAGNIFICO! QUEEN AMABLE! HELP!! PLEASE!!!”

(GYYYYYAAAA GET YOUR FUC*** DOG BI**

It don’t bite

YES IT DO!!!)

Asha makes it to the treasure room but she has no time to close the door.

But as they run to the other side of the room Bravo steps on the shattered glass slipper Valentino dropped earlier and gets distracted.

(Haha you thought that was just a pointless reference, didn’t you?? BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY PLOT RELEVANT HAHAHA- the writer proceeds to lose her mind as this scene unfolds)

Asha sees this as an opportunity, as soon as she enters a different room she slams the door behind her shut.

She and Valentino are both exhausted, Valentino drops on the floor panting heavily.

“I… *puff* am never… *puff* letting you in this crazy place AGAIN” she says trying to catch her breath

She looks around the room they’re in now

It’s a corridor, with decorative black armors along the way, leading to a new flight of stairs

(I know that you knew what room I was referring to so no need for an image reference, but either way have Magnifico happily jumping on a poor armor’s head)

“… Whoever designed this castle REALLY liked stairs” she comments to herself

She takes Valentino into her arms again.

She can hear Bravo scratching the door behind them and growling angrily.

Asha looks to the stairs in front of her and sighs “Well… Guess we’re not getting out of here unless we ask them to control their crazy cat… Greeeeeeat” she pretty much groans, clearly not looking forward to talking to them again.

She and Valentino start making their way up these new stairs

(Take a shot every time I wrote stairs in these past few chapters)

The ambience is dark, a direct contrast to how it was when Asha first entered the castle. Before it was beautifully illuminated by the sunset lights coming out of the glass windows

And now it’s night time, and the castle is just faintly lit up by some candle lights hanging from the ceiling.

She sees a light coming from the end of the stairs… the light seems to irradiate a mix of blues and greens flashes

Asha then hears something coming from the room she’s approaching… laughter?

That must be their room

She thinks… and wonders what they’re laughing so much about.

Asha reaches the end of the stairs.

She’s now in front of the large door… it’s slightly open, just enough that she can peek through.

She was about to say something like “excuse me” or “sorry to bother you again, but your cat wants to kill me” but her mouth was closed shut when she heard

“OH that stubborn little BRAT got me a headache!” Magnifico complained loudly while massaging both sides of his temple with his fingers “I never had to use THAT much mind bending magic on anyone before” he says sounding a mix of frustrated and almost impressed

(He’s referring to that whole illusion sequence at the end of their villain duet last chapter)

Mind bending magic?…What’s he talking about?

Asha looks through the small opening in the door and sees the king and queen are standing in the middle of the wishes room

(Like how Asha and Magnifico are here in this concept art)

Asha is in awe with the sheer beauty of all of them in that majestic room. She understands how much each one of those bubbles represents the most beautiful part of so many people, and that alone fills her with joy.

“Aww my poor darling” the queen coos as she caresses her husband’s head “You deserve some much needed rest, say, how about I prepare a sleeping potion for you before we go to bed humm?” She suggests lovingly, but not like the fake loving voice she does all the time, this one felt absolutely genuine.

Asha remembers the tales that queen Amable used to be an amazing potion maker when she first arrived in Rosas… But that’s something no one really talks about anymore.

“Oh please do, my love.” Magnifico looks at his wife with a devoted passion, then turns his attention to the wishes above him with a malicious glee “But before that, let us see which lucky subjects get their wishes improved tonight” he lets out a dark chuckle

Improved? What's THAT supposed to mean??

Asha holds Valentino close to her and places her hand on his mouth so he won't make a sound

Asha watches as the king moves his arms bringing some wish bubbles down, they circle around him swiftly, forming patterns in the air.

(Ya know like how he did in the movie during the “At All Cost” sequence? That was neat, not gonna lie)

Paying more attention she notices something really odd.

Most of the wish bubbles aren’t blue… they’re green.

Asha has never seen green wish bubbles before, only blue ones… like her wish.

Speaking of which

“I thought we’d begin with our little star of tonight, I am oh so looking forward to coming up with something special for her” The queen says sinisterly while tapping her fingers on Asha’s wish bubble. Her voice makes Asha feel a chill run down her spine.

What on earth is going on?

Now she’s trying to hold her own breath so they won’t hear her.

“Ooh you know how I always leave the best for last, my sweet. Besides, there’s some wishes here that have been gathering dust for a while” Magnifico gazes upon the wishes floating around him like a predator watching his prey “And what kind of king would I be if I left our precious people waiting, right?” He adds with sarcasm.

Amaya just shrugs and goes to the table with potions and alchemy materials to start preparing a sleep potion for her beloved husband.

Magnifico makes the wishes spin around him faster and faster “Now lets see… Eeny, meeny, miny… YOU!” All of them suddenly stop moving, Magnifico is pointing at one specific blue orb, he signals with one finger for it to come to him.

As the orb lands on his hands it reveals a young woman flying in the sky, along with a flock of birds.

The king’s face is cruel, but his voice is saccharine sweet “Awww would you look at that my beldam, little Wendy wishes to fly like a bird.”

“Is that so? How lovely” The queen says while preparing her potion “And what shall you do about that? Oh wise and benevolent king” she speaks jokingly.

It’s like they do this pretty much every night, and they just never get tired of it.

“Hmmm… You mentioned last month you’d like to have a mockingbird as a pet, didn’t you?”

The queen gasps with one hand on her chest “Awwn you remember?” She says, already knowing where her husband is going with this, but playfully acting shocked.

“Now how could I ever forget a wish from the only person that matters in this kingdom?” The king says lovingly

Asha feels like she’s gonna pass out, he’s not actually going to do what she thinks he’s going to do… Is he?

“Well mi reina, your wish is my command” He says as he caresses the blue orb and starts mumbling some words in latin as his eyes start glowing green

“Mutatio animae, mutatio mentis, hoc votum fecisti, nunc meum est”

As he says the spell, the image of the young girl named Wendy looks at him terrified, as her arms turn into wings. The king caresses the orb a few more times and it slowly goes from blue… to green.

He removes his hands from the now green orb, revealing inside a little bird flying away scared, like it’s trying to get out.

… Asha holds in a gasp. She feels a single tear forming in the corner of her eye.

The king looks at the wish proudly, admiring his handy work “More of a Wendy Bird than a Mockingbird, but eh, it’ll do” He shrugs as he lets the bubble fly up to join the others “Tomorrow once she wakes up as a speechless helpless little bird, she’ll come flying begging for my help, and voila! You get your bird!” He says excitedly to his wife

“And what will you say if her family comes asking where she is?” The queen asks him, but not out of concern, more like she’s testing him to see if he’d know what would be the right thing to say

“… Not my problem?” He laughs at that

“Darliiiiing~ remember what we practiced”

“Hahah I know I know I’m jesting.” Magnifico says after laughing a bit more, but then his face instantly morphs to a sorrowful expression as he demonstrates what he’d actually say “Oh… I’m deeply sorry, but Wendy wished to be free from you, to live somewhere far far away… I’m sure she’s much happier wherever she is now” as he finishes the little act his face instantly goes back to an evil grin and gives her a bow like an actor.

“Hmmm not bad, you’re getting better” Amable complements softly

“Well, I do have the best teacher” He lifts his head and gazes upon her lovingly.

(This would be so sweet in any other context)

Asha feels like the world is crumbling down around her the more and more with each and every word that comes out of their mouths…

These people were more vicious than she could’ve ever comprehended… They tricked thousands of people… they tricked her.

“NOW!” Magnifico claps loudly, snapping Asha out of her thoughts “Let’s see who’s our next lucky subject~” he says in a singsong voice as the wishes once again start spinning around him, and once again he picks a random one

“A wish to write engaging stories about your culture?… Booooring!” Magnifico yells at the wish, the little man inside the orb holding a pen and paper gets frightened. “How am I supposed to make this fun for us?”

He ponders as he throws the orb to one hand to another several times, playing with it like it’s just a normal ball. The little man in the wish bubble is being thrown side to side like a rag doll.

“Just do the same you’ve done with the royal cooks, my love” Amaya suggests “Change the subject he’ll be writing about to something more interesting.” she says nonchalantly while grinding some herbs with a mortar and pestle for the sleeping potion.

(English is not my first language, so like, learning new words like “mortar and pestle” has been pretty cool :3)

The royal cooks?… Dahlia’s parents.

Asha thinks to herself in horror

“Oooh good idea my love!” Magnifico said excited as he turned his attention to the wish and once again recited the spell in Latin

“Mutatio animae, mutatio mentis, hoc votum fecisti, nunc meum est”

“Aaaaand there, why write about your lame ol’ culture when you can write about something much more important… like ME” the wish is now green and shows the man writing a book about Magnifico.

Asha connects the dots. That family recipe book Dahlia found, THIS is why her mom doesn’t care about it anymore, the king made her only interested in making meals that fit his liking.

(I do love when my set ups pay off)

“Ahem” the queen says with an eyebrow raised and a mischievous smile

“… I MEAN US! WRITE ABOUT US! Of course, I’m sorry my darling, hold on le-let me change it!” Asha sees an emotion that she hasn’t seen from the king ever before, he got nervous, but not in a scared or pretending to be nervous way, more like an “awkward teen trying to impress his crush but he gets flustered” kind of way.

“Heh heh I’m just teasing, dear.” The queen says giggling at her husband’s small panic attack “We both know the less this kingdom knows about my past the better, so really, you may have all the spotlight you want” she speaks sweetly.

The king sighs with relief and comments casually “Hehe indeed, it would cause quite a stir if the people found out their beloved queen was banished from her homeland for being a witch back in the day, now wouldn’t it?”

As soon as the king finishes that sentence a cloud of smoke pops out from one of Amaya’s flasks, making a loud noise.

“Your sleep potion is done… Also, you know I much prefer the term “alchemist”” she corrected him, sounding a bit more serious… like the word "witch" strikes a nerve with her.

“… My apologies my love, I forgot” he says genuinely

(… I might make a blog all about this, because there’s history here, let me know if you’re interested… anyway enough of them being a cute evil couple, Asha is SUFFERING)

Asha is not even that shocked with the reveal that the queen was a witch, that’s minor compared to everything else she has seen.

They tricked THOUSANDS of people for the past 25 years, and no one had a clue…

How many people had their dreams twisted beyond recognition? How many families had their culture erased from their minds after entering Rosas? And how many couldn’t even tell that they’ve been forced into a complacent life of loving nothing but these two monsters?

And… What would they do to her wish?

Asha will get that answer earlier than she thought, as she hears the king say:

“You know, we really should wrap this up, it’s getting late…” he says looking at the stars outside and then turning his attention to Asha’s wish that is floating around, he smiles maliciously “Let’s finish this with our sweet birthday girl’s wish, shall we?”

Asha feels her heart stop.

Magnifico makes the wish fly towards him

Amaya also walks to her husband to take a closer look at the wish.

As they take a look in her wish we see...

Asha happy with other people in Rosas.

That was her wish, to make other's happy, and to be accepted.

Magnifico looks quite disappointed but not surprised "A wish to “Make others happy”… Pffft pathetic." Magnifico rolls his eyes and sighs "She couldn’t even want something only for herself. Now how can I possibly turn this into something entertaining?"

Asha's eyes widen, that's it, that was her wish... She can't really feel a connection to it anymore... Why would she want to be accepted?

(Sooo yeah, just like how Simon’s personality changes because he doesn’t have his wish, a similar thing is gonna happen to Asha, but it’s not gonna be that noticeable)

"Hmmm I can think of a way" The queen says with a wicked gleam in her eyes as an idea forms in her head

"Do tell" he says already anxious to hear what his wife’s words of wisdom.

She walks a few steps away from her husband to start explaining her idea

"Riddle me this, darling... Who makes a kingdom happy?"

Magnifico... The damn king of this forsaken kingdom, struggles with that question for a bit

"Uuuuh... Shoot, I don't know. Uh florists? Backers?...Hair dressers?"

The queen gives him a one arched brow look.

"That’s kind of a vague question, don’t you think? Peasants get excited over the simplest of things" He shrugs

"Fair enough... Let me put this in a different way then... What do we want to make of this girl" She continues her train of thought walking around the room.

"To be honest? I considered just pushing her off the stairs handrails a couple of times today" He states like killing a random 18 year old is just a normal Thursday.

"Yes yes me too, but that's thinking too small, what she has shown today is that she has this almost unbending spirit, so much so she made you tire yourself using your powers... What we need is to put her under control, make sure that she NEVER inspires anyone else to be like her" She explains eloquently.

Asha does not like the sound of that at all.

"I like the sound of that. Buuut how can I do that with such a simple premise? "Make others happy"... Should I just make her WANT to conform to the norm?" He ponders

"That is, again, thinking too small, darling" she walks towards him slowly "Wanna know something I've always wanted?"

Magnifico was kinda taken aback by the sudden change in subject but ok "Well, just tell me and it shall be yours, my queen" he said with his voice dripping with passion

"... I always wanted a daughter"

...

wha-

"W H A T ? !"

Magnifico literally screamed with eyes wide like a bat blinded by the sun, his voice echoed through the room in a way that some of Amaya's potions even shook.

"WOMAN, SINCE WHEN??? I THOUGHT WE AGREED BABIES ARE THE MOST HEINOUS CURSE ONE CAN HAVE CASTED UPON THEM???? NOT TO MENTION I WANT NO HEIRS!!!"

He's not mad by the way, he couldn't get mad at her even if she stabbed him, he's just surprised, really. Because that's something he thought they both agreed on.

Amaya blinks a few times after that reaction, she may love this man more than anything in the world, but wow, his temper is something they really gotta work on.

She continues her train of thought like that didn't just happen.

"Yes... But Asha is not a baby, is she?"

... Oh... Oh no... Asha understood where the queen is going with this

The king did not tho

"... Ooooooh... Uuuuuh??" He stared at his wife, very confused "Not that I’m questioning you dear, but um... Are you suggesting we make THAT girl... A princess?"

(Hehehe subverting the disney princess trope, I love it)

"Precisely." The queen nodded pridefully, then she continued “You change her wish from “I wish to make others happy” to “I wish to be a princess”, it’s semantics since a princess does make the kingdom happy. Her personality will be rewritten to fit that wish, and she shall never question us again.” The queen speaks like she’s just talking about the weather.

The king is not fully convinced though "...Thats all fine and dandy but I thought we were gonna punish her, not give her a life of luxury”

"And who said anything about a life of luxury? You know the guest room on the west wing tower?"

"Yeeeeees?" Magnifico starts to understand his wife’s train of thought

"We lock her up in there." Amaya says it like it's simply the most natural course of action.

"Hmmm" He thinks for a moment with a hand in his chin, and by the looks of it he warms up to the idea "Yeah I can see the appeal now... It’s like throwing her in the dungeon, but in a socially acceptable way." he rationalizes with an evil smirk

"To the people it'll seem like this poor orphan girl just got the wish of a lifetime. While to her, well, she won't remember ever wanting anything else than to obey us... And as a bonus she can stay drawing in her room all day, just how she wanted." She has a wicked smile that grows more and more with every word.

"There's just one caveat to that though” He says with a worried expression “She'd be the heir" He almost whispers like the word frightens him.

The queen shrugs "And? We are too beloved for anyone to dare threaten our lives, and with my potions we can remain young for many MANY years to come" The queen says like that’s all obvious.

Magnifico still looks concerned. He really despises the possibility of anyone getting his crown.

Amaya notes his fear, and genuinely gives him some words of comfort... in their own way "Here's a thought, in the impossible scenario that we may have to come to terms with our own mortality... I'll give the girl my special tea, the same one I gave to your brother all those years ago, and she won't take what is ours. How does that sound?" She speaks calmly... How she's gonna straight up kill this girl if they so happen to become old or sick.

Magnifico's face softens at that, his wife always know the right things to say

"As always, the brightness of your mind outshines the sun, moon and stars, my love." He holds her face tenderly. "Very well then, if a little princess locked up in a tower is what my queen wants, then your wish is my command"

They exchange a kiss.

Magnifico turns his attention back to Asha's wish and mumbles the spell one more time

“Mutatio animae, mutatio mentis, hoc votum fecisti, nunc meum est”

And the blue bubble with Asha smiling among the citizens of Rosas... slowly turns green, and the image inside morphs into Asha smiling forcefully, while standing between the two royals.

... So umm yeah how's Asha feeling right now you may ask?

Yeah our girl is not fine, she's actually panicking. Tears running down her face while she hugs Valentino.

(It's like she's stuck in a story that the writer also can't wait to move along and get to the happy stuff... So let's move this along, shall we?)

Valentino obviously didn't understand anything that just transpired but he sees how sad Asha is, so he tries cheering her up.

"Maa-"

Asha covers his mouth instantly

But they heard it.

"What was that?" Queen Amable whispers.

The two royals start walking to the door.

Their steps are quick.

Asha doesn't think twice and slides down the stairs's handrail.

She’s terrified. If they find out she heard all that she’s as good as dead.

She makes it back to the corridor with the black armors.

Asha knows behind that door there's a savage wild cat... Which now feels less scary than the people coming from those stairs.

She gets an idea.

Asha opens the door quickly and when Bravo notices that it's finally open he runs inside to attac-

B L A M

Asha pushes one of the armors and it falls on the lynx, making a lot of noise.

"WHO'S THERE?!"

Magnifico’s enraged voice echos through the whole castle.

She hears their footsteps quickly approaching.

They have not seen her yet.

She runs as fast as she can to the exit without looking back.

Magnifico and Amaya get to the corridor and find quite the sight...

Their cat has his head stuck in the armor's helmet, he's struggling to get out like those cats you see on youtube that get their head stuck in a jar.

Bravo meows in his raspy voice panicking as he moves around.

"OOH my sweet precious babyyyy! How on earth did this happen??" Amaya rushes to his rescue like a worried mother.

"Bad kitty Bravo, you don't attack armors, just the people inside them" Magnifico says sternly.

Meanwhile our girl is BOOKING IT down those dang long stairs, jumping the steps and almost falling a couple of times.

She doesn’t know if they're actually right behind her or not.

But she’ll not look back to check.

She finally makes it out of the castle.

The wish ceremony celebration is close to ending but there's still a few people in the surroundings of the castle, talking to each other.

Asha just keeps running, she let's go of Valentino, she knows he can keep up with her

So she just keeps running.

Some people see her and try asking what’s wrong.

But she can’t stop.

She' can’t look back.

Tears run down her face.

And...

She’s stopped, by a large hand holding her arm.

Chapter 6

Final Thoughts

AFTER 3 CHAPTERS ASHA IS GETTING AWAY FROM THE STRAIGHT WHITE RICH PEOPLE!!! RUN GIRL RUNNNN

Don’t get me wrong, I LOOOOVE writing these two with a passion, but I wanna focus back on my girl Asha and couldn’t quite do that with those two stealing the spotlight… They gonna keep stealing the show every time they appear in the story tho but hey that’s kinda what it means to be a Disney villain.

With that said, I hope this helped make it pretty clear how Disney royally screwed up when they scrapped the villain couple concept. Like, it’s not just a “oooh that looks neat” thing, NO it’s more of a “THE WRITING POTENTIAL IS UNFATHOMABLE” thing.

Because I cannot stress this enough, we’ve been told through Disney’s WHOLE HISTORY how love is the strongest thing of all, and that’s true… But what happens when two immoral people love each other? WHAT HAPPENS??? Well I’m planning to show here what I think would happen, and it’s scary.

Also a recurring theme I was trying to make very clear in this chapter is how this couple comes from completely different worlds, Amaya was a peasant, Magnifico was born royalty, but they both learned from each other to make themselves more powerful… Actually, I think I might write a whole blog about their respective backstories, like yeah I wrote about them here but this was the early concept (not that it’s out dated, you can still read it if you haven’t yet) but after some further reflection I came up with even more details to flesh them out and make them feel like rounded characters, that although are irredeemable, have their own perspectives on the world that makes them see themselves in the right… Let’s just say they think the world wronged them so they can do the same to others, that’s all I’ll say for now.

Also OH MY GOSH, I did it, the animal sidekicks pretty much are the whole reason the plot is set into motion. I'm actually so happy.

When I first started to think on this scene (Last month) I thought about Asha just going back up the stairs to ask for her wish back because “oh she changed her mind”… which didn’t feel right, ya know? Like yeah it’s cool she’s so determined, but it felt off… And then the idea of the royal couple having a pet lynx showed up to save the day.

It’s kinda funny that none of this would’ve happened if Magnifico just teleported Asha outside after getting her wish… But he was feeling petty as usual so he decided to have her walk AAAAALL the way back… And he accidentally messed up the spell and instead of just opening the door to the exit with the snap of his fingers, he opened ALL the doors, letting Bravo get out. So my point is that Magnifico’s pettiness will bring his downfall, as it should be.

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! And get hyped because STAR BOY IS COMING!!!

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #wish 2023 #wish star #disney #wish asha #wish disney #wish movie #wish rewrite #king magnifico #queen amaya #magnifico x amaya #king magnifico wish #asha #wish reimagined #long post #kingdom of wishes

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noroi1000 · 2 years

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May I request something which is sort of a scenario as a part of the the recent mafia gojo fic since as it has arranged marriage if i were to be expanding this request it would also be an arranged marriage too so it would be better if connected to the mafia gojo oneshot. So basically the scenario could be in their wedding life when they didn't have kids and it's basically reader's ability to be playful and cheerful when she wants to which is a loveable traits of hers and here in this scenario reader n gojo r making fun of the people they hate in the mafia world while reading is dramatically impersonating them perfectly making both gojo n reader laugh when gojo guesses the right person who reader is impersonating which is just many of the reasons gojo gave up his playboy life because of falling deeply in love with her even though she might not reciprocate his love but certainly treats him well. This could be a scenario when they're on their luxurious honeymoon trip but again not an necessary

( Sorry if this wasn't clear as english is not my native language )

I don't love him, but I want to be with him 3

"Haha! And then – And then Gakuganji always makes silly faces!” He said laughing.

He suddenly grabbed his cheeks, pulling them down slightly, simulating that he had wrinkles.

And he also stretched his jaw forward to lisp and change his voice.

You laughed when you heard his stories about the people who attended their meetings.

This Gakuganji is an elder from another mafia.

He is like an antiquated tree, but the older he gets, the more he needs.

Especially when it comes to their contract with the Gojo family.

The old man was in several other mafias for many years. But they were all the strongest.

You were laughing at him because every time he sees someone from Gojo, he looks like he suddenly got rabies.

You've seen him once or twice, and you confirm what your husband says.

This man looks like a bulldog that's already wrinkled too much. He gets a sudden rage when he sees Satoru and wants to attack. Whenever she yells at him, it sounds like he's barking.

You watched as Satoru twisted his face with his fingers, and started mimicking what the old man said.

"Young man.... Respect your elders.... You damn brat.... The youth of today have no respect at all... Gojo Satoru, don't be a child and stop smiling!" he said, faking his voice, only to lie down on the couch later and laugh with a little red on his cheeks from the heat inside the room.

When your laughter died down, you wanted to ask him something.

Have you ever wondered why his head is so big...

"Satoru, I have a question." You said before giggling softly. "Why does his head look like a melon that is slowly molding?"

He gave you a questioning look before bursting out laughing, imagining a melon with a gray beard and those brows like moths.

"Don't you think he looks a bit like a moth?" he asked hugging a pillow to his chest.

You corrected yourself as you sat in the chair next to him.

"Moth?" You grunted suddenly imagining a moth yelling at Satoru.

You started laughing.

He, when he imagined a moth in his clothes, also began to laugh. A hairy insect that holds a wooden cane.

Laughing, he shifted to the side, and suddenly fell off the couch, hitting the wooden floor with a thud.

He uttered a soft "uh" as he fell, but he continued to laugh as the image of the Gakuganji moth still lingered in his mind.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you imagined his face falling off his head, from old age.

"What this time? Tell me!" he moaned with a red face.

"After all, he looks like his face has started to roll down from old age..." you muttered.

"You're right! Go down!" He laughed, laying on his back. "He's going to be walking on his own beard soon! I'm waiting for him to ride bike and he'll get caught in the chain of his bike now!"

You had enough, you kept laughing.

Your faces were red when you couldn't breathe properly and your faces were already aching from smiling.

You got down from your chair wanting to get a drink because laughing really made you thirsty for water.

Walking forward, you caught your foot on the mafia boss - your husband - lying on the floor.

Falling onto his chest, you laughed, not even bothering to get down.

You do not care.

You can rest like this...

Lying on top of him, you listened to his breathing and his soft laugh. Also laughing all the time.

You sat down suddenly on his stomach and smiled as you dug your finger into his chest.

"Guess who I'm pretending to be, okay?" You grunted as you waited for his response.

"Only if I get a reward~." He gave you a smile.

"What's that?" You asked slightly serious, but there was still a smile on your lips.

"Kiss~."

You looked at him questioningly.

"Fine. You'll get a kiss." you put your finger on his cheek. "Then guess who it is."

Suddenly you took an empty glass from the table and pretended to drink something.

"Nanami?" he asked seeing you pretending.

You can pretend to drink tea.

You shook your head.

You pushed the glass away and brought it closer again, tapping the edge of your hand lightly on the neck. Hoping it will look like you're showing you're drinking alcohol.

"Hmm... Shoko?" he asked, placing two fingers on his chin.

You shook your head again.

You took the glass and pretended to drink very greedily.

"Oh! That Zenin Drunker!" he chuckled pointing at you.

"You guessed it." You smiled. "So your reward."

You leaned in and placed your lips on his soft cheek.

At the same time, he grabbed your arms and flipped you onto your side so you were underneath him.

As he grabbed your thighs, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

He connected your lips in a long kiss.

You didn't mind him touching you.

You've been in this forced marriage for a few months now, and there's a lot more going on between you than just hugging and kissing.

You put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away so you could catch your breath.

Your relationship as lovers allows you to do that.

"I remember what happened on our honeymoon." he said with a smile as he gently placed his stomach and hips against your body. Still keeping part of his body on the forearms that were on either side of your head.

"I didn't want it."

"But you rode with me anyway." replied. "And it was on this island where we were, I really realizing that you are the woman I'm starting to fall in love with."

You looked at him, slightly disbelieving.

You can't get used to him saying that...

He still does it, even if it would hurt anyone to know that someone they love doesn't feel the same way.

It would be really painful. But he doesn't show it.

Because it's enough for him that you like him. That you treat him as a close person without love.

That you're with him, and you're happy about it.

He knew that now, after these few months with him, you don't want to change that.

Your behavior and all you made him feel that you are important to him. Even if you don't love him, he will still love you.

Every time he looked into your eyes, he felt like he was drowning in it. He was drowning in feeling.

It was the first love he had.

Even if there was something before you, it wasn't the same.

He's never been married before. He didn't know what it was like.

And now that he's bound to you somehow forever, he felt different.

"But I... I'm sorry..." you muttered.

"I do not mind. You will still be with me. After all, you're happy." he said with a smile. "We're together."

"I like being with you."

He was glad to hear that.

Even if you didn't love him, you treated him the way a wife treats her husband.

He gave up his life for you.

You placed your hands on his cheeks, stroking them gently.

You want to do something to make your happiness last much longer.

Something so that your happiness does not disappear.

You want to be with him all the time.

To keep your life like this, you can do anything to just be with it longer.

And suddenly he called back.

"Have you ever thought about children?"

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo jjk #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru fluff

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naamahdarling · 1 year

Text

Happy Primal Bog Monday!

It's been a while!

Come sit down! Enjoy this nice basket of yummy things that will NOT upset your tummy! Take a snack and dangle your legs from the edge of this wooden walkway, toes just over the water. It is April, the weather is a little crisp in the shade because of the light breeze, and the water is cold, but in the sun, it is warm. Feel it shine on your back. See the three shadows before you on the surface of the dark water. Yours, mine, and Dried Pickle Man's. Observe the small insects darting through, in and out of them. It is a beautiful day to sit and discuss something important.

That is how worthy of love you are no matter how gross you are or feel. Let me tell you a secret. My dad is sick and it has been some days since I showered, because I am ****ing stressed. I'm a little gross. There's a big stigma against that. As if showering is an obligation to others or a thing that is somehow moral.

I can hear sadly misled people protesting even now, thin voices raised in protest. "But you did not mention that--" "You should at least--" "Actually--" "Well then other people--" "So you think--" "Are you excusing--"

Shhh. Shh. Stare into the Bog. Not every post needs to deal with every response you might have to it. The Bog knows this, as the Bog does not care to explain itself. If you gaze into it, you will come to understand.

It's okay. It's okay to get gross. If you can't cope with things and hygiene falls by the wayside, isn't that understandable? Isn't that something we should have sympathy for, and be patient with, in ourselves, in others?

So here I am, face not appearing in these pics but definitely greasy. And I am enjoying being loved by possibly the most unique creature I have ever known. He looks a bit like a yeti crab when he puts his arms up, one of those furry crab dudes, remember? He loves me no matter how gross I am and I deserve that. It isn't good for me to say bad things about myself. (Gross isn't bad to me. I'm using the word gross and not something less judgmentally fraught for two reasons: one, I don't think it should carry the stigma it does, and two, more clinical language just feels gross to me. "Trouble with hygiene" is what you have when your psych asks you to fill out another ****ing survey, over which they can frown with vague concern. It isn't what I have in the comfort of my own home, thanks. I'm just gross, okay? I don't want to be medicalized or pathologized for something completely understandable.)

Anyway yeah, here I am, gross, and here Dried Pickle Man is, also gross. Gross noises, gross fur, gross feet, gross opinions on where it is okay to sneeze (open mouth and uncovered drink). And I love him completely. No matter how crusty and stinky and scrunkly and damp and greasy he is

So I want you to sit with all that: you deserve love and respect no matter how crusty and stinky and scrunkly and damp and greasy you are. Really.

Look at Dried Pickle Man. Do you not love him? Do you not care about him even when he is kinda gross? Why shouldn't you warrant the same care from yourself? Why should you accept shame?

So sit here and poke the water with this stick and enjoy the little breeze. We really don't care when you last took a shower. We just want you to relax for a minute. You deserve that much. And if others judge you, well, that's usually not coming from a place of love, I will tell you that. And when it is out of concern, well, that doesn't mean it isn't annoying or misplaced, or that you have obligations or some sort of moral duty to do anything. None of that nonsense matters in the Bog. Let's just be what we are, together.

#cats #my cats #smooch #dried pickle man #primal bog monday

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raptorsaurusmelain · 1 year

Text

Let me show you... Youtube - chapter 5

I did an extra long chapter today, sine I was not able to do one long yesterday. And I got a little carried away...

Warning : no proof reading.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Victoria was -yet again- in her corridor, using some newspaper as a rag to clean the window to copy the tutorial she saw on Youtube. She should tell Yuu about this trick, it isn’t a bad one when you don’t have a clean rag… [I miss my earphones… I could blast music and continue this work without being so bored. Tonight I will buy one at Mister S mystery shop].

While she wondered about how to make the cleaning more exciting, she didn’t feel it but she was observed by 2 men. One was wearing a black and white fur coat while the other was wearing a bright red track suit, enhancing his muscles. Crewel and Vargas were very intrigued by that woman. There weren’t a lot of women in NRC, so having a woman janitor was… Odd to say the least.

Crewel spoke first. “She shouldn’t be doing chores without at least gloves… That damned bird.”

Vargas laughed. “Well she doesn’t mind a bit of elbow grease and doing chores from what we can see.”

Under their gazes, Victoria was in a deep brawl with the curtains. “Get… Off.. Me !!! You miscreant !!! You’re lucky you’re already hanged !”

Both men laughed at the lady before going back to their respective room. She was very amusing to watch, too focused on her tasks to mind all the stares from students going out of their classes.

Victoria won against the curtain. She was full of dust but she did it !!! She dusted the old wall hanging, freeing it from moths and spiders.

“It would be complete with a spritz with lavender… Where can I find that?” [The hot alchemy teacher should have it in his pantry.]

She asked a student. “Excuse me, could you lead me to the teacher lounge ?”

The student accepted the mission and led her to the said teacher room.

She thanked him and knocked. “Excuse me, I need help with something…”

Trein opened the door. “Well, we meet again Mrs Devi.”

Victoria had a huge smile while Lucius mewed. “Professor Trein ! Lucius ! I am happy to see you again ! I am in a pinch… I would like to have some lavender extract.”

Trein mused a few seconds before answering “I think the best person to help you would be Professor Crewel.”

He called out. “Professor Crewel ?”

The said professor turned his head “Yes ?”

Trein asked. “Mrs Devi needs an ingredient. Help her find it.”

Crewel sighed at the order and mumbled. “Mrs Devi ? The janitor ?”

Victoria fluttered her eyes [Too BEAUTIFUL. Are they all hot in here or what ? Was it a selection criteria for this school ? I mean… The FACE, the BODY, the VOICE, aaaaaah.]

He smiled at her and stopped in front of her. “What can I do for you, Mrs Devi ?”

[They like my name here or what ?] thought Victoria, being called by her family name more in a day than in her teaching career. It was usually either ‘Mrs’ or ‘professor’.

She smiled at the new beautiful man in front of her. “Hi, I would like some lavender extract or oil for an anti moth spray.”

Crewel blinked. “An anti… Moth spray ? Did I hear you correctly ?”

Victoria was dumbfounded “Did you not see all the moths there are in the curtains ?? I mean, there are literal HOLES in it. Lavender is good for repelling moths and various insects. It won’t replace a good wash but I make do with what I can…”

Crewel laughed gently. “Ok, I understand, let’s go to the lab.”

And they set off.

Once in the alchemy lab, Victoria touched everything she could with her eyes. The big cauldrons, the test tubes, the heat… Everything was new and so cool in her eyes.

“So cool…” Said Victoria, without thinking.

Crewel shrugged and searched in his pantry “Isn’t it ? Do you have alchemy where you are from ?”

Victoria answered a simple “No, my world is pretty boring… We just have chemistry and physico-chemistry.”

Crewel frowned “So you do everything without magic ?”

Victoria bent to look at a cauldron inside a cheminee “Yeah, we do with what we can.. We still have cars and planes, of course.”

Crewel smiled “That’s quite impressive. How did you learn about the properties of lavender ?”

Victoria answered without thinking. “Insomnia in front of YouTube.”

Crewel looked at her in the eyes, wondering. “YouTube ? Like WeTube ?”

At this moment, inside Victoria’s head was the communist Bugs Bunny meme with the communist anthem.

“May… be ?” She answered unsure.

Once they concocted the spray -bottle on loan from Crewel- she went off to her curtains.

She was spritzing the concoction when she heard a loud noise.

She sighed. [The chandelier met his doomed fate… R.I.P. chandelier, you were beautiful in your prime. Tonight will be without Yuu then.]

She finished her work for the day, deciding to continue her hunt for moths the day after. She will win.

She went to Sam’s shop with a spring in her steps. Time to meet another hot guy !

When she was inside of the shop, she was mesmerized. [How could there be so many things ? It is bigger inside like a TARDIS !!]

She was stopped in her thoughts by a musical voice. “Hello Mrs Devi, what can I do for you ?”

Victoria feigned a surprise “Oh my you already know my name ? Did my reputation precede me ? And who might you be ?”

Sam snickered “Well my name is Sam, the owner of this shop ! And my dear imp, it is my friend on the other side that told me everything. From your arrival to your fight with the curtains.”

Victoria knew, but shivered nonetheless. “I don’t want to be on your ‘friends’ bad side… I fear I might disappear.”

Sam just smiled “Well, we will never know, right ? What can I do for you ? Do you want an amulet for protection ? A lovely cursed lamp ? Some snacks ?”

[Wow, that’s a wild ride…]

She answered with her grocery list. Hand soap, tuna, dish soap, pasta, rice, first aid kit,... Even ordering a washing machine for the dorm.

“How will you pay ?” Asked Sam, after packing everything with the washing machine voucher.

Victoria took out her credit card “With this ? I think we can activate her by buying something from a shop ?”

Sam’s eyes widened “Wow, a gold PyrEx ? You are quite loaded for a janitor.”

She read the name of the bank ‘Pyroxene Express Bank’.

So pyrex wasn’t the name of a chemical material but also the name of an AmEx type of card ? Damn, chance makes good.

She put her card in the monitor and typed the pin number, hoping that it would pass. Her prayer was heard and she was happy when she saw the “payment accepted” on the machine.

She took her stuff and went back to the dorm. She was cleaning the copper pots and pans with ketchup when Yuu and Grim came back, dejected.

“What is happening, Sweetie ?” asked Victoria, having a rough idea of the problem.

Yuu cried “We need to search for a new stone mage or else we will be expelled from school. All because of Grim and this Ace guy.”

Victoria knew and yet was angry. She never liked Ace in the game, he was too cocky for her taste. #sorrynotsorrytho.

She let the pans and pots rest in water to join Yuu. “Honey, that’s terrible… How are you going to do that ?”

Grim answered. “We need to go to this old mine to find the stone. It is going to be a great proof of my talent and my hench-human will work under my supervision !”

Victoria sighed. “You know Grim, a great leader would work with their underlings. Not letting them do all the work.”

Grim short circuited at the sentence. “Whaaaat ??”

Victoria squeezed the Child’s hand. “It will be hard but I have every faith in you. Think of it like a quest. Think calmly about the problem, everything will be alright. You just need to trust your gust, both of you.”

Yuu nodded. Grim was still under the shock of Victoria’s revelation.

Yuu asked. “Why are you cleaning the pots and pans with ketchup ?”

Victoria answered with a simple. “YouTube.”

After Yuu had calmed down, Victoria winged some pastas so they wouldn’t go on their quest with an empty stomach.

Victoria sent them off, promising she will wait for them before going to sleep.

While they were away, Victoria checked the mail and her phone. She had a text from Disney. “As promised, you will find your medical treatment in the mail and will be sent to you each month.

Kind regards,

Disney.”

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about that…

She found the parcel in the mail and when she opened it, there were her meds. There also was a letter addressed to her from the Pyroxene Express Bank. She opened it and found her bank ID to consult her bank account.

She sat on the couch and looked it up.

“Credit account : 3 521 madols.

Saving account : 433 900 madols.

Being transferred : 50 000 madols.”

So. It meant multiple things :

1 madol = 1 euro,

her mortgage was refund,

she still was loaded from the sale of her patent.

companies were still purchasing the right to use the said patent.

She was rejoiced. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about money. She would take care of the three of them. She needed to protect them like she could, after all, they will save the school multiple times from overblot…

tag : @boba-tea-sipsip

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst lmsyy #twst yuu #twst grim #twst wonderland #twst fanfic #twst crewel #twst vargas

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licorice-and-rum · 2 months

Text

To Decadent Poets - Chapter 6

Summary - find more chapters, read the synopsis, and trigger warnings here!

The man, the beast and the insect, at its shadow Live, away from hunger and fatigue: In its branches take shelter the ditties And the loves of the mockingbird. — Olavo Bilac, Old Trees

Although he was used to a comfortable life, Chris wasn’t prepared for Taigh Hill: that wasn’t any mansion, it was a manor. Just the entry hall could encapsulate his entire house with space to spare, and he didn’t even talk about the decoration.

If anyone told Chris a king had lived there, he wouldn’t hesitate to believe it. The stairs to the second and third floors, which began across the hall, formed the shape of a tree, splitting into branches to reach each side of the two floors up. In the middle of the first store, a huge tapestry that had a story sewn into it was laid on the wall above a fireplace.

The housekeeper, however, didn’t allow any of them to take in their initial surprise, walking towards the stairs as if the place was nothing at all. For her, who took care of the place every day and all day long, it might not be, but fuck, Chris thought while the three of them jogged side by side to keep up with the rigid woman while still trying to take in everything, wishing they had a thousand eyes just so they could see it all.

There was a huge chandelier hanging from the high ceiling of the entry hall and the sounds spread, sounded, echoed throughout the place, especially because Miss Turner couldn’t stop talking, the echoes heightening the annoying tone of her voice. Chris was an inch away from telling her off when the echoes faded away and they entered a closeted corridor.

“You mustn’t make much noise because Mister Elliott’s wife has regular migraines and, if you do make noise, you’ll go to bed without dinner,” said Miss Turner severely without turning, as if she was sure she’d be heard, it didn’t matter by who. Chris considered some old people really sounded like that, shrugging to his thoughts while exchanging an exasperated look with Oliver. The boy smirked a bit, sarcastic, just like Chris had seen a couple of times during their trip together. “Oh, and I was warned that Mister Elliott’s eldest, Miss Ellen, doesn’t want you going inside her saloon. I ask that you respect it.”

“She has a saloon?” Chris asked the only one of the three there who seemed akin to breaking a couple of rules. Of course, he was the only one who could question them: he was somewhat akin to family, after all.

“Yes, she has, Mister Evans,” said the housekeeper, turning a bit, her voice polite. “It was a request from Miss Ellen herself to her father and uncle she matured.”

Although Chris thought the idea of giving a saloon to a nineteen-year-old girl was ridiculous, he didn’t say anything, shrinking back to the horizontal line, which was formed by him, Oliver, and Noah Kurtz, not realizing his shoulder brushing the second’s for a moment.

When Noah seemed to shrink, however, Chris looked at him. The boy, however, didn’t look back, making it clear as day he had no interest in speaking with Chris. The boy, for once, just shrugged internally and stopped so as not to bum pinto Miss Turner. She, on the other hand, had stopped in front of the fourth door to the right in the corridor.

“Your room is here. Mister Elijah wanted to put you in separate rooms but Mister Elliott thought it’d be best if you were sleeping in the same room so you could socialize and not being stuck in your own worlds.”

The woman obviously respected the two men she was speaking about and that made Chris feel a little less apprehensive about the godfather he never met and his family. If their employees liked them, that was enough to say they were likable enough. The housekeeper let them pass by her and scan the room while she kept speaking:

“Dinner will be ready at six pm and I’ll come get you when the time has come for you to go downstair today. For now, I’d suggest you use your time correctly and unpack or go explore the garden before it’s dark. And don’t forget to be quiet around the library!”

“Why do we have to...” but Chris didn’t have the chance to make his question, once the housekeeper closed the door behind her as she left before he could speak. The red-haired boy frowned, then whistled. “Is it me, or she doesn’t seem to like us very much?”

He was left to laugh alone and, when he turned to know the reason why at least Oliver didn’t comment, he found the boy turned to the bed he’d chosen, the one nearest the window. Meanwhile, Noah put his bag on the bed nearest to the door, leaving Chris with the bed by the wall. Even weirded out by the silence, Chris resigned himself to unpacking just like Miss Turner had suggested.

The beds in the room he’d share with the Other two boys could accommodate him and the others, plus at least more nine people put side by side. Chris didn’t doubt they could sleep the three of them in the same one with space to spare. It seemed the bed of a king, just like everything about that manor seemed to reek of royalty. There were even curtains on the beds: they were golden, just like the sheets and the blankets.

Chris wanted to say something to break the ice he felt around the two boys behind him but, before he could think of something, Noah left the room leaving his suitcase on the bed without unpacking it or saying anything.

“Kinda rude,” Chris commented quietly, raising an eyebrow at Oliver, who was still in the same position, silent as a crypt. Weirded out by this behavior, Chris went to his friend, brushing his shoulder gently with his own. “Hey, is there a problem? You can talk to me if you want.”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” Oliver said, no doubt trying to lie because it was obvious there was something wrong. The boy sighed mourningfully, and said: “I miss my dad.”

There was more about it Oliver wasn’t telling him but Chris didn’t pressure him for more information. He couldn’t forget that, as much as it didn’t seem like it, he had met the other boy just some hours ago and there were limits Chris didn’t really know whether he could cross or not.

Therefore, all he did was sigh while sitting in his bed and smiled at his joined hands and separated knees.

“I also miss my mom.” Chris scrunched his nose at the reminder of Maxwell but didn’t say anything out loud. Instead, Chris talked about Jane and how amazing she was. Oliver looked over at him for the moment Chris began to describe his mother, his blank eyes making him look more German than ever but the boy still took a seat by his side, listening silently: “My mom loves to paint. She’s great and has always dreamed of being a painter but she gave up this dream when she married my dad, considering my grandpa wanted her to stay home to take care of me. My dad… I’ve never seen him agreeing with my grandpa but he also doesn’t disagree with him. My mom has the prettiest, softest hair I’ve ever seen and she smells like rosemary.”

Chris closed his eyes to imagine Jeane by his side, smiling at him the way just a mother could do. Looking at him the same way she smiled when Chris was younger and his biggest worry was whether or not she had made ginger biscuits.

Oliver stayed quiet for a long time after that, allowing Chris to recover from the onslaught of feelings after he talked about Jeane. He gulped, swallowing down the tears.

“My mother’s name was Liora,” the blond boy said in a murmur, so low it seemed like a whisper, his eyes staring at something Chris couldn’t see. Then, hesitating, as if he feared Chris was going to start yelling at him or something, Oliver added: “She was taken by the Führer before we left Germany.”

Chris knew “Führer” was a word they used to refer to Hitler. So the magnitude of it all hit him like a punch, comprehension making his heart beat painfully, cutting his airways. He couldn’t help but look at Oliver with pity, although he knew that was certainly not the desired reaction. It was just that Chris couldn’t help it: it was like Oliver’s pain had spread to him, because, after all, wasn’t it his own as well in a certain way?

All of those crimes committed against the Jews, the black people, Romanis, different peoples… wasn’t it his pain as well? They were humans. They were people, they could’ve been people he passed by on his way to school, they could be his professor, his friend’s parents, and relatives, they could’ve been his relatives. It could’ve been him.

Chris saw the pain as his duty. He had to feel the pain for all of the families destroyed by Hitler and by the war that was happening. He had to feel pain because it was the least, he could do if it really mattered for him.

But Chris didn’t say any of that. He didn’t ramble about how concentration camps or did a monologue stating the obvious — all human beings should be respected. No, Oliver knew all of that, he didn’t need anyone to talk his ear off about it. He needed to be heard, or his privacy respected, whichever he preferred.

“Do you want to talk about her?” Chris asked then, as delicately as he could even though he could still feel his disgust for Hitler leaving his tongue heavy and sticky, making it hard to swallow.

In his nape, there was a shiver being born. Oliver kept silent for longer this time; his lips half-open in almost words.

“No,” he finally exhaled, getting more comfortable in Chris’ bed, his back straight. “I was just worried because it’s my first time away from my dad since they took her and I don’t want him to… spiral because of it again.”

The worry in Oliver’s tone was palpable and, for a moment, Chris felt a bit envious about his relationship with his dad. He wanted Max to care enough about him and Jeane to actually mourn if something happened to them. He wanted his father to care.

Admitting that even to himself was like a Punch to his stomach. Chris knew trying not to care would be useless someday but until then, making these mistakes wouldn’t be allowed. He shouldn’t have to beg to have his Father in his life, he shouldn’t have to beg for anyone’s love. Love was something to be freely given, selflessly and happily given. Love was something to be offered, not something to be stolen.

After all, that was the reason why Chris thought it was ridiculous when one of his friends said he’d stolen a girl’s heart. It was ridiculous because they really thought that trying and trying and trying the same way everytime would give them a different outcome. If a girl wasn’t interested in giving him a chance, Chris just moved on to the next girl to interest him: it wasn’t so hard to hear a no after you got used to it.

Anyhow, he was digressing, Chris realized when Oliver shook his hand in front of his face, catching his attention back.

“Did I daydream for a bit?” Chris asked, embarrassed, and Oliver chuckled.

“For quite some time, actually,” he just said.

“I’m sorry”, said Chris with a sigh, turning in the bed to look straight at his friend. “I didn’t know what to say and ended up thinking about my own dad.”

“It’s okay, I can’t expect people to know what to say to something like that.” Oliver smiled, clearly embarrassed and a bit worried. “What did you think of Miss Turner?”

“I think she looks like a Woman from the last century, but who knows? She could surprise us.” Chris answered and shrugged as he laid on the bed, supporting his head with his fingers crossed under it, looking at the ceiling.

“She seems a bit nicer than those women.” Oliver also shrugged but didn’t lay down: he preferred to stay seated on the soft mattress. “What about the other boy... Noah?”

“He’s... quiet.” Chris shrugged again. “I still don’t know what to think of him, actually. I didn’t have the time to get to know him.”

Oliver made no comments, nor did he disagree about anything in regards to Noah. The two boys stayed quiet for a while, the silence of people that had nothing to talk about. So, to break the ice, or maybe to get some alone time, Oliver got up and said:

“I should write to my dad and tell him we arrived and it all went well. I promised him I would.

“Hm, I need to write to my mom as well, although I didn’t promise anything,” Chris said, closing his eyes as the Journey began to take a toll on him. He could feel his body getting heavier and his mind slower. — I’ll just sleep for a bit. Wake me up in an hour, please.

He didn’t even hear Oliver’s agreement before he was out.

Chapter 7 - Coming Soon...

Buy my other book on Amazon!

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sparky-is-spiders · 6 months

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So my drawing tablet looks to have been injured in the trip back to college and I haven’t checked to see if it still works. So. Uh. Anyway I made my bastard lizards (+ the one insect) into mammals.

Bastard Lizard Battlecats AU!!

I tried to stick to more realistic coat colors but Amaldyne can have a purple eye. As a treat.

Some AU facts, presented in no particular order:

- Amaldyne’s warrior name is just her dragon family name. If you’re wondering who would name a kit “Rotkit” I think there was a bit of a tradition of giving kits “scary” or “menacing” names.

- Blizzardshard (Eityr) got her prefix the same way. That or she was an outsider who was brought to the clan young.

- They’re all in ShadowClan!

- Rotwing was a relatively well-respected warrior. A little intense, but well-meaning, intelligent, ambitious, and with the clan’s best interests at heart. Nobody’s quite sure why her apprentices turned out Like That.

- She mentored Blizzardshard and Lionsong (Leoshgon). Blizzard (who had mostly known her parent’s (Watcherite expy, although I don’t think I’ve talked much about it) intensely controlling behavior found Rotwing a welcome reprieve and a role model. She really looked up to her and became an intensely fanatical supporter. Lion will commit atrocities for affection and Rotwing was more than happy to take advantage of this.

- I imagine that Amaldyne hadn’t considered leadership too seriously, but with ShadowClan under threat from several factions she took it upon herself to fix everything through the power of clawing her way to the top by any means necessary.

- Maybe some horrible calamity can befall her family this time too to give her the push to make some REALLY terrible decisions.

- But without the armageddon time crunch she has time to move the pieces into place. She’s a respected warrior. She has time.

- First order of business is making Blizzard a medicine cat. Blizzardshard would do ANYTHING Rot told her to do so it’s not hard to convince her. Not sure how it happens but it does get done (Blizzard does have a knack for herbs. And maybe some less savory skillsets).

- Leo was the right-hand-man and mate of the Overseer, as well as a former kittypet. As the Overseer got more and more dangerous and controlling he (as before) began collaborating with Amaldyne to kill him (as he was also becoming a serious threat to ShadowClan). When they succeeded, he was brought into the Clan (I imagine she was deputy by this point). While he was a grown adult, he still needed a short apprenticeship period to grow used to clan life and learn how to hunt and fight in ShadowClan.

- Deputy Rotwing had permission to spy on the twolegplace cats but the full scope of her activities was never discovered.

- She was a serious candidate for the deputyship, but possibly had Blizzard place a conveniently rotting birds wing somewhere. Maybe.

- Idk I like the idea of her getting the position legitimately. Or even the sign being real but it being a warning that Blizzard covers up or willfully misinterprets.

- When asked why she was so invested in getting Lion into the clan and making him her apprentice she said that she saw potential in him. This is technically true.

- She worked hard to teach him how to be deputy because she recognized a good puppet when she saw one. She made sure to give him an apprentice as soon as the time was right.

- She definitely got the leader killed after all the pieces were in place.

- Lionsong was her first mistake as leader. He was liked but not respected, both for his outsider heritage and his personality. Rotstar wanted someone who would follow orders and be easily manipulated (but who wouldn’t accidentally start a war by snapping and murdering another deputy like Blizzard), and Lion’s obnoxious chatterbox routine and pushover nature made him a great tool but a poor deputy.

- More charitable cats thought this was just nepotism. Lion and Blizzard were the cats closest to Rotstar in the clan and one of them was too medicine cat to be deputy.

- Less charitable cats recognized Rotstar giving her strongest supporters the only roles with enough power to challenge her decisions.

- Like Blueflame! I haven’t talked about her and Lilypaw (or their original lizardverse versions) but they’re both here. Blueflame’s lizard version doesn’t have a name (that’s like the middle part of character creation for me) but she’s Amaldyne’s ex gf. Their relationship ends as Amaldyne gets worse and worse and it is NOT an easy breakup. Like in the lizardverse, Blueflame is dry-witted, level headed, smart, and somewhat laid back. Lilypaw is an expy of Lesareth Rotwing, Amaldyne’s younger cousin. A somewhat rude academically-minded dragon named after a very rare and poisonous flower.

- Unlike in Lizardverse, Lilypaw is Rot and Blue’s daughter. Canon Amaldyne has enough shit going on without also being a parent but outside of it I like the extra family drama and I eat it like the popcorn.

- Lilypaw is a medicine cat apprentice. Her parents split (on much better terms) when Rotwing first became deputy. She was sort of an absent parent to Lily tbh.

- Blueflame is the one to kill Rotstar and becomes the leader after.

- Rotstar keeps fucking. Starting wars. And scheming to take down enemies. And becoming more and more controlling. She loses a lot of the trust and respect she used to command but is still feared by many. Blizzardshard dies with her, and Lionsong is probably also killed, but might be driven off to parts unknown depending on how cooperative he is.

I left out soooo many things (such as “what if warrior cats did necromancy?”) but this got so fucking long and I am. Tired. Anyway hope you enjoyed. I am constantly putting the lizards in Situations.

#amaldyne #amaldyne rotwing #eityr #eityr reksha #leoshgon #leoshgon varmillius #lesareth #lesareth rotwing #lizardverse #the lizard crew #bastard lizard battlecats #lizardverse au #sparkarts #traditional art #marker art #forgot how creepy and sinister I made amaldyne’s kittysona lol #anyway some fun facts:#lilypaw and rotstar both had their tailtips designed with their lizardverse stinging spikes in mind #blizzardshard isn’t actually blue it’s just for shading cause i thought it would look cool

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erabundus · 1 year

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@mmriesoftvat &&. said... "Did you want a turn too, suspicious-looking puppet man?"

oh? how amusing. ❝ as if i would give you the HONOR? don't flatter yourself ... ❞ words trail off somewhat unnaturally — he's just BARELY managing to keep himself from tacking on a worm or insect to the end as though it were basic punctuation. an unspoken show of RESPECT, perhaps. ren never thought the day would come where he would find himself agreeing with tartaglia, of all people — but he supposes stranger things have happened. he's under no obligation to admit as much aloud, at least.

❝ if you're going to put on a show in public, don't be surprised when your theatrics attract an AUDIENCE. ❞ is what ren says instead — and though he may technically have a point, he's also nosy. SHAMELESSLY so; drama attracts him like blood in shark-infested waters. this particular instance is no different in that regard. he cares little for what parties happen to be involved — merely how they stand to EASE his existential ennui.

still, the wanderer supposes he can offer one scrap of clemency ... though it's up to childe whether he decides to view it as such. ❝ you're making it too obvious you CARE. ❞ laughter soft and cold as fallen snow punctuates the observation. arms spread; palms raised towards the sky. ❝ don't you realize you're just egging them on? the more IMPORTANT something is to you, the more other people are going to use it against you. ❞ attachments are but a glaring weakness — a delicate underbelly for the world to sink its teeth into when one least expects it. although, demanding childe of all people to UNDERSTAND that much is asking quite a bit. ren can only assume he's still knee-deep in the delusion he's able to keep his loved ones safe. only a matter of time until that fantasy comes CRASHING DOWN. tragedy and death and too-small graves filled sooner than they have any right to be. ( the wanderer doesn't want to be around to see it. )

❝ i know it's a difficult concept for you to wrap that stubborn little head of yours around ... but learn how to PICK your battles. ❞

#mmriesoftvat #( love how ren manages to come off like the BIGGEST asshole even when he's genuinely trying to give advice )#( that -2 charisma stat coming in clutch )

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ratcandy · 3 years

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Alright before I sign off for the night I just got something to say. Lil rant incoming.

A message to those who do not own arthropods (bugs, spiders, myriapods, etc) or gastropods (snails/slugs):

in a conversation with someone that DOES own a pet like that, or breeds them, or just generally cares passionately about arthropods, it’s not cool nor funny to say that you would willingly kill that persons pet if you saw it.

If you’re arachnophobic or entomophobic, that’s totally valid and understandable - those are very common fears! But to tell someone in casual conversation that you would not hesitate, even in jest, to kill their pet,,,, its not cool!! At least to me!! That just insults me! aside from how distraught the very thought of you killing my pet makes me, it just also tells me you care so little about my connection to an animal that you would figuratively spit in my face at my mention of it. Especially if you keep pressing and joking about it afterwards!! If I express discomfort over you talking about how effortlessly you’d squish my pet, it would be appreciated that you wouldn’t continue to talk about how great it would be if my critter was dead.

No I’m not talking about an experience in particular what do you mean /s /nbh

regardless. i dont care if it’s a bug, I feel like it should be basic human decency not to tell someone you’d stomp on a creature they’d care about.

i mean, it’s generally unacceptable for someone to come up to you and say they’d kick your dog or purposefully step on your cat’s tail, so whys it okay for someone to. Say they’d kill your pet. If that pet just happens to be a millipede or tarantula or mantis or whatever. I don’t understand

other arthropod owners feel free to elaborate. I’ve just had so many experiences telling friends “I own a millipede” only for them to follow up with “oh I’d kill that thing if I saw it.” Like. okay. Thanks? What am I meant to say to that honestly

#clamtalk #vent?#Rant anyway #Bugs #arthropods #insects #arachnids #Maybe I’m in the wrong here idk. I just personally cannot stand it when people do this shit to me #then again I’ve got whole other triggers related to this subject specifically that might just. Be influencing this view in a biased way #But man. A little bit more respect for insects is all I ask for #ok to reblog #Ask to tag

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party.

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily.

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.”

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure.

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...”

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.”

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.”

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.”

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.”

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.”

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.”

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.”

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence.

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home.

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying.

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?”

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset.

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.”

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually.

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.”

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.”

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.”

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?”

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody.

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved.

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.”

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?”

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.”

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.”

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly.

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.”

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.”

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.”

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.”

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees.

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.”

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.”

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #anon ask #anon request

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oonajaeadira · 3 years

Text

If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature.

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

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You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.”

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one.

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing.

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night.

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there.

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself.

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.”

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him.

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm--

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

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Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

#soft ezra #soft!ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #fluffy smut #pedro pascal #ezra prospect smut

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heretohelptheidiots · 3 years

Note

hy, i don't know if you are still taking requests, but may i request how would be the interaction between the Madrigal's and a person who has the power of turn any wish into reallity, but from where he came from he was treated as a slave instead of being respected like the madrigals are.

Let’s see what we can do.

Your life had been absolute hell. You had been cursed with an ability that had been exploited time and time again. You were nothing but a wish fulfilling lap dog to the leader of your village. When you had ran away, you vowed never to grant another wish again.

You had no direction as you roamed, hoping to find a place far enough away that you wouldn’t ever be recognized. You came upon a mountain. That had been split, a path lead from the river where you stood through the opening. A single golden butterfly landed on your lapel. You admired the insect, before continuing down the path.

You reached the edge of the town. Peering around buildings quietly, trying to avoid any undue attention. You walked casually through, smiling at people as you passed, who returned your smile eagerly. You came up short as you watch a woman around your age produce a bouquet of flowers out of thin air at someone’s request. Sudden righteous anger filled your body. You waited until she walked down an empty street. You grabbed her arm quickly and she spun to face you.

“I can help you!” You said looking around frantically before looking into her eyes. “I’m like you. We can run away together. You’ll never have to grant anothaaaaa!”

“Isa, you okay?” Another young woman had jerked you away from the one called Isa and held you well above the ground.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I think he’s confused though.” She gave you a very concerned look.

“Take him to mamá?”

“I’m not confused, I’m trying to help you escape these people! I’m like you!” Isa gave a skeptical look to the strong woman.

“To Mamá,” she agreed.

“I’ll prove it, wish for anything!”

“Alright.” Isa said, trying to be placating. “I wish for an arepa.” You blinked at her.

“I can do something bigger.” You suggested.

“I just want a single arepa.”

“Do I need to put you down?” The one holding you asked, clearly trying to be courteous.

“Nope, one arepa, coming up.” You focused and the arepa appeared neatly in your hand. You offered it to her. She took it, examined it, and handed it back.

“You should eat.” She said. “Come on, Luisa, we should introduce him to the family.”

“Okay.” Luisa agreed and followed Isa back to the square. “Just out of curiosity, why don’t you conjure up something to help you escape? Not to encourage you trying to injure me or anything.” She questioned as she walked.

“I can’t grant my own wish.” You said, a little displeasure in your voice. You did eat the arepa you’d conjured though.

“Oh, is that why you’re so thin?” She asked. “I’ve lifted children who weight more.”

“Thanks.” You said, a little dryly.

“Oh, sorry. I guess that was a little harsh.”

“Why are you being so nice?” You asked looking around at the faces which now beheld you with some concern, but no malice.

“You look like you’ve done some hard living and need help.” You flopped a bit as she shrugged. A young teenager loafed over, hands in his pockets.

“Whatcha doing?” He asked.

“Taking this guy to Mami. Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the church?” The one carrying you challenged lightly.

“Priest is too busy with Tio Bruno to get anything done. He’s all like, ‘Oh Bruno, we are so glad to have you back.’” You watched in amazement as the boy took on the form of the priest. “And Tio is all like, ‘I have missed you so much my good friend’.” He shifted again to the form of a man with dark curls and wide sleep deprived eyes. He caught you staring. “What, never seen a shape shifter before?”

“Camilo, don’t be rude.” The two girls scolded him simultaneously. He huffed in typical teenage disgust.

“Fine you’re no fun.” He said and wandered back toward the church.

“Soo, are you slaves here or not?” You asked, suddenly wondering if that snap judgement earlier had been completely incorrect. The strong one nearly dropped you.

“What?” Luisa asked.

“Of course we’re not slaves.” Isa said, her face twisted with the absurdity of the statement. “Why would you….” She looked closely at you, the smell of jacarandas filling your nose. She lightly examined your wrists. “Oh you poor thing.” She breathed. “Luisa, do you mind if we run the rest of the way?”

“Nope.” They broke into a run, you bouncing along on Luisa’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. At the far end of the square was a little table stacked with food, attended by a middle aged woman with a kind smile.

“Mamá.” They shouted as the rushed forward. The woman looked at you, an expression of motherly affection coming over her face. You were sat down in a chair.

“What seems to be the trouble?” She asked, lifting your chin gently. The girls ran through what had happened, every time you opened your mouth, another bite of food was put in it. But you couldn’t complain, they did get the basic gist of what had happened. The woman, ‘I’m Julieta’, had examined your wrists, as sad look in her eyes.

“I can’t fix scars.” She apologized. “But you mush come join the family for dinner.” You attempted to protest, but were shouted down by even more family members who had gathered around.

The days passed, you were accepted into the Madrigal home without so much as a question. You began to, in thanks for their hospitality, grant small wishes. Dolores asked for a pair of sound canceling earmuffs. Mirabel, without knowing you were there, wished for a new sandal strap when hers broke, you handed her the new one as you walked passed.

“Oh, you didn’t have to!”

“Yeah, I know.”

Camilo joked about wishing for things, but he would stop before actually making a wish, even if there was no one around to stop him. The two you met first, Luisa and Isabela never asked a single thing from you, for themselves.

“I wish Señora Guzman had a new cooking pot.” Isabela said, when you asked her if she wished for anything. You sighed and fulfilled the request.

“Don’t you want anything for you?”

“No.” She said flopping back and summoned a bundle of jacarandas for you for your trouble.

“I do like it here.” You murmured.

#encanto fluff #encanto #disney encanto #madrigal #family madrigal

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critrolesideblog · 3 years

Text

"Do you enjoy card games?" At this query, Caleb looked up slowly, finally, from the Aeorian tome he had been frowning at all day.

It was the third day of a forced respite from their Aeorian expedition. They had been beset on their last outing by a three-headed abomination that, though quickly vanquished, had left Caleb with a series of nasty bites that bled with alarming profusion. A couple of healing potions had stopped the bleeding and partly healed the wounds, but they stubbornly refused to heal up entirely. So, at Essek's insistence and Caleb's reluctant acceptance, they were taking a break.

Caleb had spent their "break" thus far puzzling over an incomplete Aeorian formula with increasing frustration and, despite Essek's efforts at reassurance, guilt at delaying their explorations. Caleb had stubbornly refused both Essek's help and his suggestions that he work on something else for a while. So, Essek moved to Plan C.

"I, ah, ja, I suppose so," Caleb replied, azure eyes glancing down to Essek's hands, deftly shuffling the deck he had procured from the second floor of the tower. "Although, it has been some time since I've played one."

"It has for me as well." Essek glided around the desk Caleb was seated at to place himself on the opposite side, as Caleb considered him thoughtfully, and as he seated himself, the Zemnian wizard gently closed the tome with a small sigh and made space on the desk by unceremoniously shoving a small mountain of wadded-up, discarded parchment onto the floor, to the annoyed meows, chitters, and huffs of a number of the tower cats. "It's been at least," Essek took a large breath and let it out in a slow sigh, making a production of thinking over the many decades it had been since his last game with Verin. "Oh, at least 70 years, maybe 80." Caleb leveled a deadpan gaze at him for his efforts, though he was unable to completely school the muscles at the corners of his lips that wanted to form a smirk at his little one-upmanship. Essek allowed himself a satisfied grin in return. "Still, I thought it might be a pleasant diversion."

"Do you have a particular game in mind, old man?" Ha. Essek considered the possibilities, unsure of which, if any, games spanned their two cultures.

"Hm, there was one Verin was particularly fond of when we were children. The cards are dealt evenly between the players," he explained and began dispensing the cards. "And the goal is to obtain the entire deck. Without looking, we each take turns flipping cards over into a pile in the center, until someone plays a face card. When that happens, the next player tries to beat the value of the previous card, Aces being of greatest value, and whomever has the highest card claims the pile."

"Simple enough."

"Indeed, but when Verin played, he was fond of what he called..." He paused to consider how best to convey it in Common. It was odd the random words that came up as blank spots in his vocabulary. Punch...? No, not punch. "How do you say it ... There is a word, I think, for when you hit something with your palm?" He mimed the motion of doing it to someone's face.

Caleb raised an eyebrow, a bemused expression settling on his features. "A slap?"

"Yes!” Now that Caleb said it he was certain he had heard it before. “He liked to play with...” He paused to consider the translation again. “Slap rules."

"Slap rules?"

"When two cards of the same value are played in a row, or on either side of a single card, any player may slap their hand down and claim the pile, whomever is quickest."

"Alright, I think I've got it." They each scooped up their respective piles of cards and formed them into neat stacks in their hands. "Shall we?" There was a glimmer of friendly competitiveness in Caleb's eyes that made Essek's heart-rate tick up a little.

"After you."

They took turns flipping over cards, slowly at first, random numbers of varying colors stacking one on top of the other until Caleb, at last, turned over a Jack. "Ah, let's see if you can beat that, Her Thelyss." Essek dealt his next card. Six. He let out a little huff of disappointment as Caleb slid the pile towards himself with the ghost of a grin hovering around his mouth.

"Danke." He said, adding the pile to his hand.

"Ole hyvä." Essek deadpanned. Amusement crinkled the edges of Caleb's eyes, and an increasingly familiar warm affection took up residence in Essek's chest. They began again, flipping the cards a little faster this time.

Thump. Caleb blinked with surprise as Essek claimed the pile. He moved his hand back slightly to reveal the most recent cards - two threes in a row. "Aaah, right, slap rules."

"Indeed."

They began again, flipping the cards over a little faster still. Essek glanced up at Caleb's face. The guilt and frustration that had tugged on his features the past two days seemed to have released their grip, in favor of intent observation. He looked back down -- two eights! Their hands collided as they both reached for the pile at the same time, but Caleb eked out a victory, his fingers managing to slip just under Essek's. Caleb gave a soft "ha!" as he claimed the pile, and Essek found himself grinning as well, despite the loss. He had not considered that their hands would inevitably touch over the course of this game, but he couldn't say he minded.

"You can imagine, perhaps," he said slowly as they began turning over cards again, resolutely watching the cards this time, "two little Drow boys slapping the cards, and each other, with increasing enthusiasm as the game goes on." Caleb chuckled.

"I can indeed. In Blumenthal, we had a game where we just slapped each other's hands to see who was fastest, no cards needed." Both of their hands shot out - a nine flanked by a pair of fives this time. Again, there was Caleb's warm hand under Essek's instead of cardstock. He made a show of hissing with frustration, baring his fangs a little, but he was sure it was belied by the grin still tugging at his mouth. Caleb didn't seem the least bit intimidated as he added the cards to his hand, amusement crinkling the eyes again. The warm affection steadily blooming in Essek's chest grew warmer still. They began again, and after a moment of dealing cards in companionable silence, Caleb asked, "What is he like? Your brother?"

A memory filled Essek's senses. He and his brother were in a ballroom on the Thelyss estate. Members of various Dens and the upper echelon of the military were milling about them to the strains of soft music and polite conversation. Verin was grinning with a brash pride at being appointed Taskhand, chin held high, chest puffed out. A gleeful victory polished his silver eyes to shining. Earlier that evening, Essek had retied the bun neatly collecting his little brother's many braids to make sure he was presentable for the ceremony. Verin had ruffled Essek's hair to make sure he wasn't. "Tall," he replied, finally, and then muttered, "the bastard." That shocked a laugh out of Caleb, as Essek hoped it would, and he tried to suppress his own victorious grin.

"How rude of him growing past his elder brother!" Caleb laughed.

"The disrespect," Essek opined, shaking his head. "When we were teenagers, I once escorted him to a shop - he wanted to buy a trinket for some girl, and I needed spell components."

"Naturally."

"And the shopkeeper complimented him on how kind he was to take his little brother out shopping." Caleb's laugh was lovelier than any sound Essek could think to compare it to. "I could have strangled that shopkeep. I knew I would never hear the end of it. All I heard for months after that was little brother this, and little brother that."

"How did you get him to stop?"

"Violence." Essek claimed the card pile with a Jack of Spades. "I mastered Telekinesis and tossed him into a snowbank."

"Ja, naturally, as one does." Caleb's voice was warm with amusement.

Essek felt no need to mention that Verin had enjoyed the experience and asked to be tossed into the snowbank three more times. "He's naturally charming," Essek continued. "Too much for his own good, sometimes. He has forgotten on more than one occasion to check whether the targets of his charms were married first."

"Uh-oh," Caleb chuckled.

"Indeed." Essek rolled his eyes with old exasperation and then claimed the pile of cards again with a Queen of Hearts. "He's smart, but he always preferred fighting and flirting to academics. Still, he has a keen mind for battle strategy, tactics, problem-solving. Much too honest for politics, but he is the sort of person people turn to naturally for leadership, and he takes that responsibility seriously." Caleb claimed the pile this time, King of Clubs.

"He sounds like a good person," Caleb ventured quietly.

Another memory rose up, unbidden. Verin when he was a long way yet from being Verin. They had called him Rei then, and Essek had been called Kai. Rei was a baby, barely old enough to walk, but his tiny hand patted Kai's shoulder gently as his elder brother tried not to cry over a skinned knee. His silver eyes, large in his small, round face, clearly full of a sympathy he did not have words yet to express. Essek nodded. "Even when he was a child. As a toddler, any time he received a treat, his first instinct was always to share it, with me or Nanny, or the housekeepers, even, whomever was nearby." Haluatko vähän? Do you want some? The little boy had always asked. Haluatko vähän? He had asked the less popular children in school, as he went out of his way to share his snacks and his shine. Haluatko vähän? He had asked with an excited smile, on the eve of his deployment to Bazzoxan, before running out into the rain to get fried insects from his favorite street vendor, like a child and not the 105-year-old man that he was, and again after purchasing it and exclaiming how delicious they were, Haluatko vähän? "He has always had a good heart." Icy tendrils began to snake their way through Essek's chest, like the mold of Aeor, feeding on the heat there and turning it into cold, cold shame and guilt. How had Verin remained so good and Essek turned so wrong?

He didn't ask the question aloud, but Caleb seemed to guess where his mind had turned and countered it with a question of his own. "Perhaps some credit goes to his elder brother for shielding his good heart?" Essek made himself look into Caleb's eyes, and their hands paused in their game for a moment. There was no pity in the Lucidian blue, just a gentle curiosity. It was a genuine question.

Essek considered the hypothesis. He had tried his best to keep Verin on the right side of the Umavi's scrutiny and their father's temper and out of any problems he couldn't punch his way out of. But was it as simple as being the younger of the two? Essek had felt as much affection for Nanny as Verin had, but he wasn't sure he had ever offered to share a treat with her before Verin came along. If he had, he certainly hadn't continued to offer after repeated declinations out of an immovable sense of fairness. As far as Essek could recall, they had always been of wildly different dispositions. Verin was boisterous where Essek was quiet, outgoing where he was introverted, gregarious where he was selfish, courageous where he was cowardly. Try as he might, Essek could not imagine Verin doing the things he had done, for the Dynasty or against it, for mere power.

"Very little," he concluded. "I did try to look out for him, but for all that we share in origin, we are very different people. There is no discarded timeline with a Shadowhand Verin."

Caleb considered this thoughtfully for a moment and then tossed a card down with his verdict: "That last assertion is unfalsifiable." Essek raised an eyebrow and tossed a card down. Yes, he supposed it was... for now...

Thump. Caleb slid the pile crowned by two Kings toward himself with a satisfied grin. "You know this game is very unfair to you, Herr Thelyss." There was a spark of mischief in his eyes, and Essek felt the chill in his chest begin to ease. "What with my being so much younger than you, better reflexes and all of that."

Essek scoffed and shook his head, a grin returning to his face. The nerve. "Oh, we'll see about that."

#baby's first ficlet #first one posted to the worldwide web anyway #please be gentle #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #a little but mostly Essek thinkin about his brother #verin thelyss #Apologies to anyone who speaks Finnish if the Google Translates are terrible #my writing tag

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rurifangirl · 2 years

Text

Y'ALL WE GOT NOTHER BITCH FINNALYYYY

Name: Liam.

Age: 23.

Sexuality and gender: Bisexual, trans man.

Species: Gorgon.

Occupation: Guardian.

Pronouns: He/him.

Height: 4.26m (15 feet).

Birthday: 3 October.

Likes: Ducks, waterfalls,sand.

Dislikes: Squeaky sounds, arrows, insects.

Personality: Protector of the 4th floor, Liam has done everything in his power to protect his people, even if that meant straining away from them. His avoidant and shy attitude don't make him the best in coversations, but he is a good listener. Overall gloomy, but good at heart.

Weapons/Abilities

He uses a schyte for combact (though rarely; and It Is a normal schyte w/o nothing special).

Then of course, being a gorgon he can turn people who meet his gaze in stone. Though, differently from the original gorgons, he can control whether to turn people in stone or not. But, if in high concentration of any emotion (even happyness or sadness), they'll turn in stone either way.

Further info under the cut <3

The other lil stuff/bit of background 🐍

So as I've said earlier, he's the fourth floor's guardian, and in contrapposition to Vox he isn't really seen well. By all means, he still Is respected by most, it's just that his relationship with humans Is,, complicated to say the least.

Even with previous guardians the relationship was rocky, so Liam simply adapted to the situation, and didn't mind the distance. Though, he was still pretty curious, and couldn't help but sometimes interact with humans.

And before you may ask yes, his eyes that look like scared cat eyes are intentional. He might seem to stare at your soul but rly he's just looking normally. He Is pretty self co ncious of that though so Liam tries not to look eye to eye.

Anyways ducks ducks ducks ducks -

He loves those silly little dudes just . Swimming around where he resides . And gives sometimes some bread y'know

Oh and speaking on how he gets food: It's mainly through offerings, since there are several lil altars. When It's night, he approaches them and boom cool stuff and some bread.

Random thought but for the italian folks i think he'd adore peach estàthe.

He easly gets stuck between branches, as he often forgets just how tight the gap between two tree's branches are.

It's not unusual for him to bathe in waters like rivers or lakes, though sometimes It gets more lonely than usual.

Since he doesn't talk much, he might have trouble with pronouncing or rarely remembering words, so It'd be better to let him have enough time to express himself.

Tags: @a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @spooping-around-liyue @edensrose @nadi-117 @dopesaladlady @audre-falrose @yourlocalcowboy @flowergarden1 @infraaa

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s-serendipit-y · 3 years

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v3 boys & their s/o graduating

request: Hello you beautiful human being, what about some headcanons of what DRV3 boys would do to celebrate their S/O graduation? 👀💞 You can do only a few character ofc, no rushing! @call-me-yam

characters: v3 boys (minus ryoma hoshi)

notes: this was fun to write since i just graduated myself :)

i didn’t specify what you’re graduating from so it could be high school/university/ect.

——— shuichi saihara

shuichi would be so proud of you but would show it silently, he’s just a little shy.

would love to take you out to your favorite restaurant and see a movie.

or if you want, he would throw a party with all your friends (kaede would probably host).

if you like sweets he would bake a cake for you (with the help of kirumi ofc) if sweets aren’t your thing he would just make all your favorite snacks.

——— kokichi ouma

he would pretend he wasn’t even throwing you a party but reveal it at the last second.

it would definitely be at d.i.c.e headquarters, if you want your other friends there kokichi would complaint about not having you to himself (but they would be there)

he might have mercy on you and not prank you but no promises

in really though, kokichi is really proud of you but he obviously doesn’t express it verbally, but you’d be able to tell based off how he acts at the party.

——— kaito momota

#1 hype man. before the party even began he would be screaming at your graduation (embarrassing/j)

would invite ALL your friends and family, you deserve to have everyone you love there. besides he knows they’re are proud of you just as much as him.

if you want something more lowkey, he would suggest going to a restaurant, even though he prefers party he still respects your wishes

——— rantaro amami

would love to take you out on a adventure

probably somewhere you’ve never been before. you both could try food you never had or experience things you can’t in your own country.

if you have anyone you’d like to invite they’re more than welcome to come but rantaro would prefer if it was just you two. it’s kinda like a date :)

would give you a charm as a gift on your graduation day

——— korekiyo shinguji

another person who is very proud but would show it silently, not because he’s shy, that just how kiyo is.

would want to have a picnic with you, with foods you both enjoy and kiyo would pick out a folktale to tell you about love <3

would like to take pictures of you in you cap and gown (he just seems like he would be a great picture taker)

also on the day of graduation he would like to style your hair for you (if you have any ofc)

——— gonta gokuhara

would think to do anything until kokichi brings it to his attention, do gentleman throw party’s for their s/o? yes, of course they do!

his friends would probably be the ones planning the party while gonta picked out a meaningful gift. it would be a necklace with your favorite insect on it (sorry if you don’t like insects lol)

when he gives you the gift he would ask to put of on for you, let him! it’s gentlemanly for him to put it on for you (at least he thinks)

most likely to get himself a matching necklace :)

——— k1-b0

would look up some things on how to celebrate

kiibo doesn’t want to let you down by doing something mediocre so he would try to go all out.

probably too far out and would suggest something extreme like scuba diving or sky diving (unless you like that stuff)

you would just have to help him a bit, give him a hint a what you want or your gonna be jumping through the sky :/

#danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa headcanons #v3 x reader #dr2 x reader #shuichi saihara x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #korekiyo shinguji x reader #kiibo x reader #kaito momota x reader #rantaro amami x reader #gonta gokuhara x reader

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undersero · 3 years

Text

So Well

this is my contribution to march magic, the server collab for @buttershouse

please note: i originally chose for my work to take place during sengoku period japan, but overall there is little significant or identifying factors to support this, so generally it's more of an old world au.

pairing: shinsuke kita x fem reader

warnings: arranged marriage (but kita and reader are in love bc i'm a sap), unprotected vaginal sex, gushing, era-appropriate mentions of the gods/ a higher power, passing mention of era-appropriate expectations regarding sex, flirty and playful kita

word count: 3.2k

**this work is intended for 18+ audiences only. minors do not interact. do not repost this work.**

Kita is a very gentle, loving husband. His hands, calloused from work, always touch you tenderly. Fingertips graze your cheeks as he gazes at you, eyes full of fondness. Soft, sturdy palms smooth over your hair as you lay your head on his chest. Heavy, meaningful nudges as he slides his arms around your waist and smooths his hands up over your breasts. Strong and capable arms tug you into his side while you lay in your bed, being surrounded by his warmth and comfort.

He does little things for you, too. Kita loves preparing your tea for you in the afternoon. It’s never anything special, simple Jasmine tea with a dollop of honey, but he takes great pride in making it for and presenting it to you. He easily reaches tall things and can move things that your arms cannot securely move. More often than you’d initially ever expected, Kita flirts with you- little winks, sometimes he pokes your ticklish sides, tugs affectionately on your hair, kisses the top of your head, bumps your noses together gently.

Kita, who is still so stuck in his ways and his routine, so carefully and lovingly fit you into it so seamlessly it was as if you’d been there all along. He took time for you, to acclimate you into what life on the farm was like; and it was here, amongst all the patience and kind, reassuring smiles, that you truly fell in love with him.

Each morning and each evening, he goes through the garden with you, picking what’s ripe, plucking weeds as needed, and watering. It’s quiet, as things normally are when there’s work to be done, but it’s never awkward. It’s more comfortable than you could have ever imagined. Love doesn’t need constant chatter, and for the two of you, silence works just as well.

Kita is a supportive, loving husband. You couldn’t have chosen a better one if you’d been given the chance.

And if you had been given the chance, if you got to keep what you knew about Kita, you’d pick him every time.

One year ago, when all this started, when you met your future husband for the first time, you were indifferent about the arrangement, and so was he. Being married wasn’t about love or desire, not in the world you two lived in; instead, being married solely revolved around connections, prestige, and social standing. The only silver lining you’d allowed yourself to hope for was that your future husband would be handsome.

And he was. When you first saw him, you were taken aback by his features. You adored and continue to enjoy the direct, honest way he looked at you, how he carried himself with such pride and reliability. The first time you held his hand, feeling it so warm and rough, but gentle all the same, it felt like you’d simply float away, up into the clouds. It was nice. It comforted you, and comfort in love was a luxury you hoped for, but one you never thought you could afford.

One year… it seems both like a lifetime and a second. But now you couldn’t imagine yourself being anywhere else, or being with anyone else. The choice to marry Kita was never yours, but it was one you would make again and again if you could.

Kita, a man of honest words and sometimes hurtful truths, would pick you over and over, too. It was like the gods had been watching you both your whole lives and wove your fates together as a blessing to you both.

Presently, the night is dark and quiet. Millions of stars shine overhead, and a light breeze rustles the broad, green leaves of the trees surrounding your home. Fireflies flicker in the fields and insects chirp. In the distance, an owl hoots. Your barn is closed up for the evening, and from within comes the soft, distant sounds of your resting livestock. All is calm and quiet.

Soft sheets whisper against your bed as Kita pulls them back and slides in next to you. You know he’s in a mood, a playful one, when he gently tugs your book from your hands, careful to slide the bookmark back inside so you don’t lose your page. Even when he’s being frisky, he’s thoughtful, and this fact is just as exciting to you as the way he starts kissing your cheek and rubbing your sides.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he mumbles, sliding his lips over to yours. You smile against his lips, sliding your hands through his soft hair and tugging, just a little, at the nape of his neck.

“Only a little bit,” you tell him, giving his hair another tug as he groans at the first one. You nudge your noses together before continuing, “but something tells me you aren’t bothered that you interrupted. Not really, at least.”

He hums thoughtfully, as if considering what you’ve said, though you both know fully well that not only did he know he was interrupting, he’d planned on it and fully intended to do so.

“How lucky I am to have such a smart wife who knows me so well,” he says, sliding his hands over your hair.

“Shinsuke, you flatter me,” you chide, heat blossoming through your body as your heart flutters.

“It’s only a portion of what you deserve, dear.”

“Is that so?” you ask, voice quivering the tiniest bit around the edges. Anticipation sets in.

“Mmmm, it is,” he hums, kissing along your face once again before kissing down to the side of your throat, nosing at your pulse and using a gentle but heavy hand to tilt your head to grant him more access to the soft, delicate skin.

“Care to indulge me?” he asks against your throat, “Let me give you more?”

Your heart pounds harder in your chest and suddenly, the space between you and your husband is too vast. You need him closer, more immediate, you need to feel his skin against yours and his mouth on every part of your body.

“How could I say no when you ask so nicely?”

Your voice comes out like a whisper, it’s shaky and needy in a way you’ve only discovered with this man, with your husband, in your bed. Kita slides on top of you, your book tumbling to the floor with a thump and the noise falling on deaf ears. He quickly slides one of his thighs between yours and captures your mouth in a loving, needy kiss.

His lips are soft, but slightly chapped, a side effect from working long hours in the sun. The way his mouth molds to yours is like a dream, something that brings butterflies to your belly, especially when he’s on top of you like this. It’s something you never expected to enjoy, and never expected to desire.

“You,” Kita murmurs, pulling away just enough to speak, his lips moving tantalizingly against yours, “are such a sweet little thing. My sweet little wife.”

Your cheeks burn as shyness washes over you like a tidal wave. By some stroke of luck, Kita doesn’t dwell on this or the adorable way you get so shy when he speaks so sweetly to you. Instead, he presses his lips against yours once more, kissing you with more urgency than he had been.

His hands, both gentle and rough, slide up underneath your night shirt, caressing your sides. You arch your back slightly, sharply inhaling as his hands softly grope the swell of your breasts, thumbs circling the peaking nipples.

He smiles so wide when you whimper that it breaks the kiss.

“You sound so lovely,” he whispers to you, nudging your noses together. The tenderness in the moment and his action makes you shiver, the trill in your spine increasing as Kita slides a hand out from under the fabric of your shirt and tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

It’s private and intimate, the way he’s looking at you. His cheeks are a little pink, partially from the sun, partially from the close proximity to you. Your husband’s eyes are dark with excitement and anticipation, though he still looks at you with such warmth and devotion that it’s easy to forget, as you so often do, that you hadn’t picked this man for yourself. But you would, again and again. And he’d pick you.

“I wish you could see yourself as I see you,” he murmurs, more for his own benefit than for yours, as he strokes your face tenderly with his fingertips. Finally, you find your voice.

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” you say, a nervous smile pulling at your lips. “You deserve to see...how… good and wonderful I think you are.”

He smiles again. Your heart stops.

Kita, your loving, gentle husband, always makes love to you. He doesn’t fuck you, he doesn’t have sex with you. He makes love to you, and that distinction is hugely important, though it’s not something either of you really address or talk about. You were his first. He was yours, as was expected, and as was appropriate and respectable.

He touches you with the utmost adoration, each moment your skin is touching is saturated in love and devotion. Kita is careful to make every thrust, every kiss, every touch meaningful, and he never fails. He excels when it comes to making you feel good, when it comes to making you feel like you matter, that you’re the center of his world, even though you’d only wandered into it barely a year ago under circumstances beyond either of your controls.

Kita loves you, he’s gentle with you, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less hard; if anything, it only makes his love for you more potent, and when he shows you, it’s something so beautiful and pure that you can’t question it, not even if you wanted to. Kita loves you. You know this. You love Kita, and he knows.

Tonight is no different.

As your night shirts come off with the whisper of soft cotton on skin, and as Kita presses his torso against yours, warmth encompasses you. Warmth from proximity, from his sun-kissed skin, from your own love and adoration, and from the butterflies filling your gut. This is neither the first nor the last time your husband makes love to you, but it’s thrilling, as always. Exciting. New. Exhilarating.

Kita smells clean, like soap. He takes great care to wash each day when he returns from the fields; the soft, mild scent fills your nostrils as Kita starts working his lips down your neck once more, hands expertly smoothing over every inch of skin he can reach.

You slide your hands down his sides, one diving between his legs and palming his stiffening cock, a movement that has Kita nipping slightly more sharply on your neck than he had been, and it’s this slight twinge of pain that makes you mewl in delight. It almost feels like Kita’s blushing cheeks will burn your skin, and you love it. You love making him feel this way, making him so bashful… you liked knowing that you had his heart in a special way that no one else would have, and that no one else could know.

Soon, Kita’s breath is labored and his cock is throbbing. His right hand has slid between your legs as well. Deliciously rough fingers slide over your slick, sensitive folds, causing whines and gasps to fall off your lips before you can even register them.

Then, his thumb grazes over your swollen clit, the tiny nub sending a ripple of pleasure through your body that’s so strong it makes you shutter. It isn’t delicate or dainty; your shoulders heave and shake and you gasp, guttural grunt leaving your lips as you do. Something in Kita changes, then, because he’d never heard that sound from you before. He’d never seen you move like that, react to him in such an instinctive and almost animalistic way. He wanted more of it. He needed to make you do it again.

Another swipe. A similar reaction. Another, a similar. Repeat.

Soon, tears sting the corners of your eyes, your hand around Shinsuke’s cock has stilled, hasn’t moved since the first time he touched your clit like that. Wetness spreads through your folds at an obscene rate, making you feel embarrassed but aroused in equal measure. Kita’s eyes meet yours, the darkness of them taking your breath away before his lips crash into yours.

It’s a breathless few moments with mouths and tongues clashing and lips being sharply nipped with clumsy teeth. Your heart hammers against your chest and you swear you can feel the outline of each rib as it does- you swear you can hear each blood cell as it rushes through your ears, you swear the room is spinning as desire overwhelms you, threatens to pull you under and never let you go, threatens to drown you-

“I love you,” says Shinsuke, his soft but ragged-with-desire voice breaking through your thoughts. You blink. The tip of his nose barely touches yours as he gazes down at you with lidded eyes.

Something about his gaze is so intimate that it makes you feel more exposed than you already are in your naked state. You swear that, in that moment, he really sees you, sees everything you ever thought and everything you are, and everything you hope to be. Everything. All of it. Kita sees it and still loves you and that’s terrifying.

But you know that the secrets he sees will be safe. You know he loves you.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, as if you’re in a sacred temple, “I love you more than anything.”

He smiles again, and you’re breathless. And he’s kissing you again.

And then he’s sliding into your core, going slowly and steadily like he always does. It’s natural for him, it’s second nature at this point. Rushing you or hurting you just so he can get some relief doesn’t interest him. If you’re pleased, then so is he. If you feel good, he does, too.

Your cunt is warm and inviting. Kita is amazed with it, as usual, brow furrowing and bottom lip catching between his teeth as he sheaths himself in the wet heat. You’re suddenly so full of him that you swear you can feel the tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat. It’s still something you’re getting used to, but you trust Kita, and this does feel good, and before your thoughts can travel any further, he’s swiping his thumb over your clit again.

The pleasure that spasms through you is a different kind. Being so full, being so close, it made you feel everything more strongly, and the whine that left your lips was more high-pitched than any you’d let out previously. Your brows pinch together in pleasure as goosebumps cover your arms.

“You like that, hm?” Kita wonders aloud, voice so rugged with pleasure and so playful that it makes you want to scream and start fucking yourself down on his cock as quickly as possible.

He must be able to read your mind. That’s the only way Kita possibly knows what you’re thinking about, what you’re aching for.

And he starts thrusting slowly, his strong hips moving in a slow, strong, reliable rhythm, one that’s steady but quickly has your eyes rolling shut. Shinsuke’s cock, thick and veiny, drags along your velvet walls, nudging against sweet little nooks that make you whimper in pleasure, pressing against little bundles of nerves that make your toes curl.

You wrap your arms around Kita’s neck, wrapping your legs around his waist, in turn pushing him deeper into your cunt, making you both gasp with pleasure. After a moment to readjust, Kita starts rocking is cock back into you again and finds that steady pace once more. He leans in and presses his lips against yours, leading you into a series of messy, loving kisses that only make your head spin even further. You swear your heart may explode with the love you have for this man and for the way he treats you and how he loves you so perfectly, just the way you need.

You pull away after a moment, pressing your face into his shoulder, once again smelling his soap, but now being confronted with his musky, comforting scent that is solely your husband’s.

It isn’t long before you’re grabbing at him desperately, pressing closer as his hips jerk into you at less controlled speeds, signalling to you easily that Kita is losing his grip on any control he has and is quickly giving in to the delicious and carnal offerings of your core.

Kita groans as you rake your hands through his hair, tugging it and making it stand out at all odd angles, disheveling his normally put-together appearance. His eyes are bleary now, dark as you feel his stomach start to twitch and clench against your own, a sure-fire indication that your husband is going to cum, and soon.

Your cunt clenches around Kita as your own orgasm approaches, and instead of the mind-numbing and goosebump-causing pleasure the swipes to your clit brought at the beginning, each time Kita’s thumb presses against your hard, sensitive, aching little nub, shockwaves of pleasure, almost to the point of pain, shoot through your entire body.

Soon, it’s all too much, and you can’t hold yourself together any longer, not when he’s making love to you so perfectly. You clench almost violently before you feel your orgasm burst forth, gushing around Kita’s cock like the water which escapes a broken dam.

And Shinsuke can’t hold on, not when you’re milking him like that, not when you’ve gushed around him so nicely. He cums, hips pressing forward wildly for a few seconds and then stilling as he moans your name, pressing his forehead into the side of your face.

For several minutes, it’s quiet. From outside, the owl hoots once more in the distance. The breeze rustles the leaves and the insects continue singing their nighttime ballads. Your heart, as well as Kita’s, slows from its breakneck pace, returning to normal, and the glowing, warm pleasure that encompasses your bodies ebbs away at its own pace.

You’re almost afraid to let go, clutching your husband so tightly for comfort, like he’s your lifeline, that letting go seems like a huge step you can’t take. Kita sighs, a smile tugging at his lips, and grabs your hips to pull you more snugly to him.

“I suppose I should have bathed after I came to bed,” he murmurs against your skin, and you huff out a giggle.

Bathing is the furthest thing on your mind- all you can think about is being tethered, held to the earth by your husband’s strong arms. You couldn’t imagine life elsewhere, or with another. Luckily, you’ll never have to- you and Shinsuke will live out your days on the farm, surrounded by your rice, your livestock, and a spouse who loves you so well.

**this work is intended for 18+ audiences only. minors do not interact. do not repost this work.**

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #shinsuke kita #kita smut #butter's house #butter's house server collab #march magic server collab

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