#I didn't specify the time in which the story takes place but I imagined it like 5-6 years after the ending of “Prince Caspian (movie-verse)

[an-angels-fury]

Two Men in Love

Hey people! Guess who came back with a fresh new Caspeter fanfic?! 😘

A big thanks for @eds-gryff for making 👉 THIS AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL VIDEO 👈 that inspired me to write this piece (that with some luck will receive like... 5 notes or something like that).

I'm really considering to start posting my fics on AO3. Who knows...

Anyway, good reading! 🫶

P.S.: A friendly reminder that English is not my first language, so don't fuck me up, okay?

P.S. 2: The fic's title comes from the song of same name by "The Irrepressibles" (THIS IS THE CASPETER ANTHEM I WON'T ACCEPT CRITICISM! 👌)

P.S. 3: The photos and quotes used on the aesthetic were all found on Pinterest, but the edit was made BY ME. DON'T FUCKING REPOST IT!!! 😡

The afternoon sun was already reaching its peak when Peter took the same usual route back home. He had left early in the morning to travel the long distance to the small village where he cared for his patients. The start of the day had been peaceful and, luckily, no particularly serious medical cases had to be dealt with, just minor incidents such as a 7-year-old girl with a broken ankle after falling from a tree, a lumberjack with a dislocated shoulder and an old fisherman who had some difficulty breathing - a problem definitely related to his advanced age and his addiction to smoking. Unfortunately, no matter how many times Peter warned him about the consequences of excessive cigarette use, it was a harmful habit that the old, stubborn man was not willing to give up.

The doctor was climbing the hill, coat and suitcase in each hand, admiring the green, undulating mounds that decorated the landscape that was beginning to form before his eyes. He couldn't imagine choosing a better place to spend the rest of his life - well, actually there was another place, but it was the only place he already knew he could never return to. For a moment, Peter found himself downcast, the weight of melancholy taking over his chest. It was a feeling he was already familiar with, although it became less constant with each passing year. A king could leave Narnia, but Narnia would never leave him as long as he lived. He was absolutely sure of that.

A loud noise woke him from his cloud of thoughts, and suddenly the bittersweet feeling in his heart disappeared. A dog with yellow fur and big ears came running towards him, barking at the top of his lungs, and the blond man didn't hesitate to drop his things and opened his arms to welcome him. When he least noticed, Peter found himself flung to the ground, laughing like a child as the animal on top of him licked his face, wagging the tail happily. When the dog calmed down from his euphoric state and allowed the poor man to recover, Peter sat down on the grass and scratched the animal's head right behind the ears - exactly in his favorite spot.

- I missed you too, big boy - he said with a big smile on his face.

That sweet moment was interrupted by a whistle coming from not far away. The dog turned his head and remained quiet for a moment, just looking towards the supposed place where the sound had come from. Soon after, a man's voice was heard, calling him by the name. Peter would recognize that beautiful voice from any corner of the world.

- Rhidon!

The animal didn't blink before barking and running away again. Without rushing, Peter got up and walked a few more meters until he finally saw the small cottage that, a few years ago, had become his new home. In front of the door, there was a very happy Caspian carrying Rhidon in his arms as if he were a giant baby. Peter couldn't help but laugh at such an adorable scene. The dark-haired man smiled back at him and made room for him to come in.

- I hope you're hungry. - Caspian said.

- Starving. - Peter joked.

The smell of fresh bread coming from the kitchen reached his nostrils, which quickly remind him that there were still some sweets and baked goods left in the special basket the baker's wife had given him in thanks for taking care of their sick son. Peter sat down at the table and allowed Caspian to serve him.

- Bon appétit. - Caspian placed the plate in front of his companion and leaned over to give him a little smootch.

The young telmarine had no cooking skills when he arrived in England, which was expected of a prince who spent most of his life being served by others around him. Fortunately, because he was a curious person and fascinated with everything that was different and unknown to him - one of the many reasons why Peter had fallen in love with him -, Caspian was quite willing to learn, especially having Susan and Lucy to help him. Although neither of the two boys were masters in the art of cooking, they loved creating new recipes and dishes whenever they had the opportunity. It was one of their favorite pastimes.

The cottage in which they lived was a simple but no less charming place. The walls were painted a beige tone and the windows were adorned with white shutters and small pots of wildflowers outside. It was possible to hear the slight creaking of the boards when walking on the wooden floor, but this was never considered a nuisance for any of the residents - on the contrary, it was considered a relaxing and even inviting sound for both. In the living room, there was a couch and an old armchair where the boys usually sat at the end of the day to relax in front of the cozy heat of the fireplace. 

The location of the house couldn't be more perfect either. The cottage was built in a rural area, surrounded by nature and relatively far from any sign of human life. On the other hand, the place still had a considerable distance between the village where Peter always worked - and where he and Caspian went twice a week to buy the supplies and food necessary for their daily lives - and Professor Kirke's mansion, who had become a great friend, confidant and tutor for the two young people since their last adventure in Narnia. He was responsible for helping the Pevensie siblings teach Caspian everything about their reality - he still remembered fondly from time to time of the prince's shocked expression after finding out they all lived in a round world! -, as well as being Peter's greatest guide during his journey to build his career in medicine. The couple made frequent visits to the master's house, where they also met up with Lucy and Edmund - and sometimes Susan as well - to spend the afternoon drinking tea with cookies, telling stories and even plotting little pranks to make fun of the Professor’s poor housekeeper Mrs. McCready, who had already grown new strands of gray hair since the last time they were there. Sometimes it was as if they had never stopped being children.

But the best part of it all was that Peter and Caspian no longer had to worry about hiding their love. They could court, exchange passionate kisses, walk across the field hand in hand, rest their heads on each other's shoulders, lie embraced in the meadow in the sunlight. They were free to express all the affection and intimacy that other lovers shared when were together.

The two sat at the table without saying a word for most of the meal, just exchanging shy smiles and affectionate looks. Even after all these years, they still felt and acted like two teenagers in love.

- And you? Aren't you going to eat? - Peter asked, noticing that Caspian hadn't picked up a plate for himself.

- I had already eaten before you arrived. - Caspian explained - You came back early today. How was your afternoon, doctor?

The blond one smiled at the other man's playful tone and moved his hand towards his, interlacing their fingers. From there, Peter began to tell a little about the patients he had seen that day. The two continued talking for a while until, a few minutes later, they got up and went to the couch in the living room. Peter decided to take a new book from the shelf to start reading - one of those lent by Professor Kirke -, while Caspian allowed him to lie down on his lap and just stayed there, running his fingers through his lover's golden hair and carefully watching the change in his expressions as he flip through the pages of the book in his hands.

Caspian recalled that one of the things that surprised him most when meeting Peter was seeing with his own eyes who the man behind the legend was. From idealization to disappointment to acceptance and, finally, to love, he reached a point where he realized that Peter Pevensie - the flawed, vulnerable being who was willing to carry all the burdens of the world alone for the protection of those he loved most, even that this meant putting his own pain aside and suffering in silence - was much more fascinating than the heroic and majestic figure of "The High King Peter the Magnificent'' that he had learned to adore and idolize since he was a child. He felt honored to be one of the few people to know details—intimate secrets—that couldn't be found in any dusty old history book: like the way Peter's shoulders relaxed when he lay awake at night, incapable of surrendering to sleep, sitting against the window frame watching the stars; the unique and special glow that lit up in his smile whenever Lucy was with him; all the wonderful sounds that escaped his mouth when Caspian touched and kissed him in all the right places every time they made love.

Every touch, every gesture, every perfect imperfection made Peter, his husband - perhaps not officially recognized by the law of men, or even in the eyes of God, but real to them and their dear ones - the extraordinary man he loved so so much. And Caspian hoped he had the rest of their lives to show him that.

After a while, Peter got tired of reading and, in one quick movement, closed the cover of the book and sat down. Curious, Caspian remained quiet, looking at the other man, who soon spoke with a voice full of enthusiasm:

- Let's go outside!

Before he had a chance to react, Peter was already pulling him off the couch and guiding him to the front door. It didn't take a second for Rhidon, who was previously asleep on the floor, to wake up to his owners' excitement and quickly follow them. The three of them ran out into the open air, their messy hair flying in the wind and barefoot, feeling the earth, the fallen leaves and the dew on the green grass under the soles of their feet. At that moment, they were not gentlemen of English society, nor soldiers rebuilding their lives in a chaotic world ravaged by war, much less kings of a land full of talking animals and magical creatures. They were just two happy, carefree boys with indomitable spirits and fire in their hearts. They knew they had everything they needed.

When they were both exhausted and out of breath, Peter and Caspian lay down together and watched the way the setting sun painted the sky in strong shades of orange, pink and red. Well, just Caspian, actually. Peter had all his attention focused on the young telmarine's face. The former prince's beauty never went unnoticed in his eyes, even at a time when he still believed to despise him with every fiber of his being. Honestly, the fact that the High King felt so captivated by those piercing black pupils, that tanned skin, those long dark locks that fell over Caspian's broad shoulders in beautiful waves only served to make him even more annoyed with the other’s mere presence.

Not that this was the first time a man had made Peter feel this way. Apparently, romantic relationships between people of the same gender had always been seen as something natural in Narnia, which surprised him at first, considering the fact that he was raised in a world where such an attitude was seen as something abnormal and, at worst, a crime. He remembered the few occasions he had got the attention of some members of the court and messengers from neighboring kingdoms during his and his siblings' reign. There were times when he corresponded and even took the attraction game further. But none of his suitors had ever made Peter feel what he felt when he was with Caspian. And at first, it terrified him. It did because, even after so many years, he still heard voices whispering in his mind, calling him cursed names.

Sick. Unclean. Aberration. Sinner.

But with Caspian, something changed. Those aggressive words began to lose their force. All it took was the sweetness of his smile or hearing him call Peter’s name and suddenly, all the noise inside him was reduced to the purest silence. Now, he could hold Caspian's hand without feeling dirty. He could say "I love you" in its truest meaning without feeling the weight of guilt taking over his heart. He finally allowed himself to feel pleasure, not shame, in being hugged, kissed, touched and, above all, loved by his partner.

You love him and he loves you. You are happy. You are not hurting anyone. There is nothing wrong with that.

You are not broken. You don't need fixing.

Peter stayed like this, lying on the taller man's shoulder, admiring the calm and dreamy expression on his face.

- That's what I love most. - Caspian broke the silence, his voice calm.

- What?

- Moments like this, where we can be alone. Just you and me.

And then came the smile. That damn stupid, charming smile that always made a warm blush rise to his cheeks. And there was only one thing Peter could - and desperately needed - to do about it. He propped himself up on both elbows, held Caspian's face between his hands and pressed his lips against his, giving him a long, slow, fervent kiss.

That's what made Caspian so beautiful, the blond man told himself: it wasn't just his physical beauty, but all the color and beauty he brought to Peter's world. And he had no words to describe the extent of his gratitude for having this wonderful human being by his side.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was calm. The only sounds in the room were the continuous music playing on the radio station and a gentle breeze that blew against the glass of the closed windows. Even after they had already eaten dinner, Peter returned to sit at the table in the kitchen to pay attention to issues related to his work. He was analyzing some notes he had written over the last few weeks related to the project of a new clinic. For a long time, Peter saw medicine as a chance to wash his soul of all the blood he had shed in his former existence, to use his hands to heal and save lives instead of taking them. He wanted to prove to himself that he could be much more than a weapon, an instrument for violence and death. And in the end, he succeeded. But he wanted it to be just the beginning of an even bigger plan.

The young man was so deep in his thoughts that he almost jumped out of his chair when he heard the clinking of the saucer being placed on the table. Peter soon felt the hot steam from the teacup being blown into his face.

- To keep you awake. - Caspian's gentle voice reached his ears.

- I'm not that tired. - Peter replied without looking up from the papers - You know, you don't need to pamper me all the time. I'm already grown up.

Caspian just snorted at his husband's typical petulance. It was a silly behavior he was already quite used to.

- But that's how our relationship works: you take care of everyone. And I - he paused his sentence to approach and kiss Peter's left cheek and only then completed - I take care of you. So, accept this at once and stop complaining.

All Peter did was roll his eyes and simply accept his lover's affectionate gesture.

- Thank you. - Peter said, this time in a more delicate and less irritated tone. In return, Caspian held one of his hands and placed a kiss on his fingers, letting his lips take time to caress that pale, soft skin. When that contact finally ceased, the telmarine was taken by surprise when he noticed the way the man sitting in front of him stared back at him, following his every slightest movement, without ever looking away.

Peter's eyes were the first thing that caught Caspian's attention when they met. Those blue eyes, deep and clear as the ocean, sometimes calm and peaceful, sometimes restless and stormy, where giant waves crashed and broke against each other. Caspian always felt like he found a new adventure every time he looked into those eyes, a new secret to be revealed, a new dark corner to be found, an infinite number of possibilities and mysteries that would be impossible to discover in a single life. Even those who called themselves the bravest explorers would be intimidated by the sight of those turbulent and unpredictable waters, but Caspian wasn't one of them. He came from a long lineage of pirates, the daring and danger of the seas ran through his veins. He was not afraid of drowning - in fact, he gladly embraced this possibility.

Suddenly, a slow, romantic ballad started playing on the radio, waking the two lovers from their frenzy - or maybe it was just carrying them into a new dream.

- Would you give me the privilege of follow me in this dance? - Caspian invited him, speaking in a low, deep voice in a way that let his Spanish accent even more evident. He knew very well the effect such seductive move used to have on Peter and how to use it to his advantage.

- The tea will get cold. - the other one stammered in a failed attempt to disguise the desire that took his breath away.

The dark-haired man just chuckled cheekily.

- Just shut up.

Peter didn't even try to retort as he knew that any form of resistance would be futile. He just stood up and let Caspian guide them to the little slice of Heaven the two of them shared.

Since the first time he and his siblings were sent away from Narnia, Peter didn't believe that he would ever be able to feel such genuine joy in worldly things again, like taking an afternoon nap in the shade of a tree, inhaling the scent of the pages of a book when you open it, feeling a snowflake melting on your tongue or even practicing small acts of altruism and kindness on a daily basis that were capable of transforming lives in miraculous ways - he also quickly learned that he didn’t need to be a powerful hero to help those who needed it most.

And of course, dancing at night in the middle of the kitchen with your love. It was another one of his favorite pastimes. Two bodies united, moving in time and space. Heart against heart, beating like drums, sharing the same melody. They were flames, burning and turning everything around them into shadows and smoke, until there was nothing left but the music and two souls naked in the starlight.

The tea was left forgotten on the top of the table, along with all his responsibilities. At that moment, Peter's only reality was Caspian's hair tangled between his fingers, those strong arms running around his hips and the heat of the young man’s lips brushing the skin of his neck. He had never felt so much pleasure in being totally surrendered. All Peter could do was close his eyes, sigh deeply, and just exist.

After that, it's not known exactly how much time has passed. Any sense of hours or minutes became completely clouded and scattered. One moment, the two men were standing in the kitchen and the next, they had been magically transported to the bedroom, taking off their clothes and continuing their dance, but this time, to a rhythm that only they could hear. It was an old song of which only they knew the notes, the rests and the chords. They were the only ones who knew which parts of the body they needed to touch with their hands or mouth to make the other moan, scream and sing.

At the end of the act, the two found themselves thrown onto the messy bed sheets, sweaty bodies intertwined in the darkness. Peter rested his forehead against Caspian's collarbone and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin and concentrating on the heavy rise and fall of the boy's chest. Then, he felt Caspian wrap his arms around him and slowly slide his hands down his back, massaging specific points on his spine with circular movements of his thumbs. It was a calm, relaxing sensation that made all the tension in the blond's muscles disappear, allowing him to sink into a deep sleep.

It was still something strange to him, being with someone who made him feel safe, protected. In most situations, it was Peter who was forced to take on the mantle of protector, as the eldest brother and as king. It was a challenge to give up this role that he had imposed on himself for so long. It took patience and reflection for him to finally understand that his family was no longer in danger, that the war was already over. That he didn't need to fight anymore. Of course, there were still days when he was haunted by terrible echoes of the past, nights when he woke up to the sound of his own crying and the screams in his head, afternoons when he walked very attentively down the street or stood still for a minute in front of the cottage’s door in an unusual state of alert, as if he feared that something bad was about to happen at any moment.

Now, everything had changed. Peter had found someone he could show his demons to and he knew they wouldn't run away. Not that he had never been vulnerable when he was around his siblings. It was hard not to be when the four of them knew each other better than anyone else: Susan could read his thoughts with just a single look. After years of fighting side by side on the battlefield, Peter and Edmund's minds worked as one, always predicting and preceding each other's every move and strategy. Lucy's presence was enough to calm the storm of emotions that shook his insides.

But with Caspian, that feeling had a different flavor. It wasn't better, nor worse, it was just… new. Peter would face a thousand armies out of love for his family and his kingdom. The love he felt for Caspian made him want to lay down his sword and strip off his armor forever. It was the kind of love that made him want to live, not just survive.

Yes, sometimes all a king needed was a safe haven to lean on. Sometimes, what a king needed most was just someone he could be weak with.

#bia's failed attempt at writing #also I beg you all to please ignore any possible historical inaccuracy in this 🙏 #I didn't specify the time in which the story takes place but I imagined it like 5-6 years after the ending of “Prince Caspian (movie-verse) #oh and can I mention HOW BEAUTIFUL 40's SONGS ARE?!!! I'm just commenting 'cause I heard many 40's vibes playlists on youtube #to get some inspiration while writing this fic and OMG I FELT SO RELAXED AND NOSTALGIC (FROM A TIME I WASN'T EVEN BORN) IT'S SO CRAZY!!!! 😍 #the chronicles of narnia #chronicles of narnia #narnia #tcon #c.s. lewis #narnia au #peter pevensie #caspian x #prince caspian #caspeter #caspian x peter #peter x caspian #william moseley #ben barnes #disney #fanfiction #narnia fanfiction #narnia fic #narnia aesthetic #aesthetic #aesthetic moodboard #my edits #oneshot #one shot #my writing

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

savanaclaw light novel: the importance of introspection

I’ve previously discussed how TWST benefits from telling us the same story across different mediums. Different mediums provide different benefits over others, and some can “patch up” rougher bits of story or add more detail to them. The game is interactive and serves as a baseline for most new content. The manga is able to have far more freedom of movement and expression due to being visual-heavy. And last, but not least, a light novel, which is mostly text, has the boon of letting us see more of each character’s thoughts and feelings. We can elaborate on what the game already established and understand the characters on a deeper level.

I would say that the light novel’s format will most benefit the OB boys, as they are the ones who will go through the biggest character arcs in the main story. Because the game’s story is told via mostly dialogue and some sound effects, we rarely, if ever, get a clear understanding of what the OB boys are truly thinking and feeling outside of their brief post-OB flashbacks. The same goes for the manga, which has limited pages to tell its story, so it has to keep a certain pace. But a light novel? Well, you can go ham there with an omniscient narrator.

Today, I want to talk about Leona’s expanded post-OB introspection in the second volume of the light novel as an example of this. Then I will combine it with the information we have from the game and see how the light novel complements what already we know of his character thanks to hindsight. (I’ll be referencing this fan translation if you want to read and follow along!)

First thing’s first! From the game, we know that Leona enrolled in Night Raven College one year late (and then got held back a year, which makes sense considering he is 20 in the main story present). He didn't find a use in attending school since he, by royal birth, was able to afford all the best tutors in the world and didn't think NRC had anything left to teach him. In Leona's Birthday Boy vignettes, he further specifies that he decided to enroll at NRC after Cheka was born. As Leona says in his post-OB flashback in-game, Cheka's birth means "the despised second son loses what little claim he had to the throne forever", essentially putting an end to his hopes. This would imply that this specific change in circumstance was the push that made Leona want to physically distance himself from home. Furthermore, it's supported by Leona's other behaviors: he does not take calls or read letters from home if he can help it (implied by Cheka asking why Leona doesn't answer his letters and Cheka calling on Halloween night to catch up with him; Leona lies and quickly hangs up), he makes excuses to avoid going home (as Kifaji states), etc. If we want to extrapolate even more, how is it that Leona, second born prince, initially crossed paths with Ruggie, who was born and raised in the slums (which, I imagine, must be quite some distance away from the royal palace)? This makes me think that even before Leona enrolled at NRC he would leave his housing and roam around, finding alternative places to stay because home just felt too uncomfortable and suffocating for him. There's also the implication that Leona often brooded over his circumstances, as he confesses to thinking about it and going to NRC to get his mind away from the tired cycle--although he also acknowledges that he's running away from "the pain" of having lost the throne.

The distancing would prove itself to be beneficial to his mental health, as Leona cites that his heart started feeling lighter, his restlessness dulled, and his pain numbed. With the throne out of sight, so, too, was it out of mind, and his longing softened. But that same haunting despair returns when another group starts to place expectations on him. This time, it's no longer the palace servants, but his own dorm members. Instead of fear and derision, his new pack looks at him, their "king", with desperateness--and, more importantly, hope. Speaking about the future with sparkling eyes. That, in turn, made Leona hopeful too. He can't let these people who look up to him and rely on him down, so he must do anything to win. That's all he ever wanted: to win, just this once. No matter what, he wants to win.

But when Leona's plans crumble, that crushing sense of despair rears its ugly head. He fails. And he suddenly understands that all his efforts will always amount to nothing, that they will always be meaningless, that there is no future for him. Leona's hopes have been dashed. He has been struck down by the world once again, just as he had started to climb up, fighting tooth and nail, to prove himself. Yet when defeat came, he also claims it doesn't bother him as much as he thought he would--perhaps because he's so accustomed to not winning, because maybe this is the outcome he had expected all along in the deepest recesses of his heart. That familiar disappointment begins to hurt him once more, and Leona wants to forget it all, to retreat to the shadows and to lick his wounds, to be far away from that pain.

One interesting new detail we glean from the light novel is that Leona is terrified by his dorm mates staring at him with hopeful eyes. It's not their expectations he's inherently scared of, but what those expectations can do to him. Leona is scared of himself, of being motivated by others to act, to never give up hope, when he still anticipates being beat down again and again by a world that rejects him and denies him. He even goes so far as to say he would be pathetic if he let his dorm mates' words inspire him and keep his waning hope alive. Ruggie, who had wanted to turn the world upside down together. Jack, who was inspired by his play three years back. All the mobs putting faith in their futures on him, their one and only leader. With so many people looking to him, how can he not be swayed by that positivity that had once been so elusive to him? How could that not ignite what little spark of hope is left in him? And that's exactly what Leona finds so dangerous about it. He's lived almost his entire life being put in his place, hurt every time he tried to demonstrate what he could do, how he could contribute--yet time and time again, here comes life, tempting him to try again, just to inevitably be compared to his brother and kicked down, delivering another blow to his pride and his self-image. Leona truly seems to hate himself for not being able to let go of that small fragment of hope he has left. He wants so badly to give up and not have to worry anymore about something he can never obtain. He's so tired of struggling and suffering for nothing. If he just caved, then he would never be hurt again. He can't be hurt if he doesn't care about anything. Yet no matter how much he wishes or tries, he can't run far enough away to detach himself from those expectations of grandeur, of being something more.

There's been many fan theories about Leona's mental health in circulation well before the release of this light novel, many of which mention self-loathing in spite of how proud and confident he typically presents as. You'd have to read in-between the lines of dialogue from the game to draw these clues out, whereas the light novel lays it more bare to you. It hits very differently reading hateful statements made by the character to himself. Leona calls himself all sorts of things: a fool, pathetic, insignificant, boring. That he isn't strong, that he isn't wise, that he's not loved. (In the in-game flashback, Leona also talks in a self-deprecating way, but to a far lesser extent than in the light novel; we also see that Falena does his best to discourage Leona from this kind of behavior.) That this is who he is, that it's the one thing he's afraid to admit and accept--but he also says he lacks the "strength" to give up. That's why Leona would rather run away than confront that potential truth. The option to embrace complete nihilism just isn't possible for him, because he can't just quash that pesky little thing called hope. This is much more complex than what's explained in the games and demonstrates a maturity and degree of self-reflection from Leona that we've never seen before. What's more, this gives us brand new context with which to view many of his other seemingly mundane actions mentioned in the game. At face value, Leona often acts very callously and doesn't care to help others unless he gets some kind of benefit from it (like agreeing to poof the contracts in book 3 just because he has his own deal he wants to get rid of). We see this time and time again when he instructs others reliant on him or less knowledgeable than he is in various matters where he is well-read and experienced with. For example, he takes note of his club members' strengths and weaknesses and offers tailored advice to help them improve their play. He tells others how to mine magestones of an adequate size in Vargas Camp. Maybe he's just doing these things to make the circumstances easier for himself (so he can put forth less effort to leading them in a game, or so he can nap heartily). But from what we've just learned from the light novel, now I'm suspecting a different secondary motive.

What if... Leona is, in part, encouraging and helping others to hone their own skills to subconsciously compensate for what he doesn't believe he himself is capable of? Because there's still so much hope for his dorm mates, for his underclassmen... (and, let's not forget, it was those in Savanaclaw that first motivated Leona to "try" again for the first time in forever) but he doesn't have that same amount of hope for himself. I get these vibes as late as book 6, when Leona and Jamil have a talk. In their conversation, Leona directs many pointed, blunt words at Jamil--words that could very easily also be thrown back at Leona's face and be applicable to his book 2 self. He accuses Jamil of making excuses so he won't have to actually act, just as Leona has continuously run away from uncomfortable situations to put himself at ease. At one point, I believe Leona event states that Jamil “*isn’t like [me]”, Here, again, it can be argued that we're seeing Leona's self-awareness on display, as well as a willingness to warn others to not follow down the same path he once treaded, to lose all hope in the future. Again, it's done with a double purpose: the other one being to get Jamil out of his way while they're exploring. And (of course) Leona's way of expressing his message is gruff and not very warm, not to Jamil and certainly not to himself. He's become prickly and defensive himself after all of his experiences--but that just adds to the complexity of his character when we synthesize what we know of him from TWST multimedia.

I really wish a lot of what was in the light novel post-Leona OB was also in the game. It would have helped to flesh out Leona's motivations and fears, which book 2 was sorely needing. As he is presented now, he appears shallow and selfish in his goals, and we don't fully understand the emotions spurring him on, a lot of which is genuine self-loathing and the sinking despair that comes with thinking you're not enough and you'll never be enough. That would have been so much more relatable than the in-game Leona having himself a pity party with a great amount of emphasis on the throne--a throne which, in actuality, just symbolizes a desire for recognition, love, and acceptance. It was never about explicitly being king. It was about being seen as his own person and appreciated for it instead of being admonished and compared to his exalted older brother.

Now, as an adult, Leona has become someone who pushes away those who try to give him that which he craves. He sees a lot of people--his own family and his dorm mates, the closest thing he has to friends--as dangers to his own mental wellbeing. He's scared to let them in, so he's built up these emotional, arrogant walls around himself. Think at how often he rejects advice from Falena and refuses Cheka's affection for him. Look at how this behavior extends beyond those who are keeping him from a literal throne and to his classmates. They instill hope in him, hope which scares Leona. The things he has wanted all his life are now poison that chips away at him. Considering all of that together, it makes Leona's story far more tragic than how it was initially shown to us in the game alone. But guess what? That can also become his strength, fuel for his character arc. Leona isn't running anymore. He's actually returning home for winter break in book 4. He's determined to not get held back again. He's committing to an internship in a field (an energy lab) which will immensely help his country (which is rich in natural resources). All of this, coming from a young man who once acted bitter when his older brother suggested that there were many things Leona could do with his intelligence to benefit their homeland. Leona is making slow strides and steady progress toward a future he used to think was unattainable for him. From that darkness, he's rising anew--like the sun upon the savanna.

#twst #twisted wonderland light novel #twisted wonderland #twst light novel #Leona Kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #Ruggie Bucchi #Jack Howl #Savanaclaw #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #Cheka Kingscholar #Farena Kingscholar #Falena Kingscholar #Kifaji #Jamil Viper #Neji

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: jealousy, minor angst, mostly fluff

Summary: Peter always has to one-up you in everything he does. He always finishes a quiz before you. He gets better grades than you. It's infuriating. Then you catch him doing the one thing that makes you rethink how you feel about him.

Squares Filled: pretending not to care for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: i didn't specify which peter parker is here, so you can imagine any of the three for this story!

x

Class could not go by any slower than it is now. It feels like you have been in here for hours even though it’s only been thirty minutes. Math is your favorite subject because you excel in it, so you’re confident to raise your hand when the teacher asks a question.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You open your mouth to answer when you hear someone chime in from behind you. Pete fucking Parker. The bane of your existence. The boy who makes your blood boil. The boy who thinks he’s too smart to be there.

“Fifty-three?” Peter answers like the teacher called on him or something.

“Thank you, Y/N,” the teacher says and turns around to write on the whiteboard.

You look behind you at Peter with a glare. He always has to chime in and give the right answer even though you know it. It’s like he wants to prove how smart he is with his stupid crooked smile, his bright eyes, and his shy exterior. He’s doing this on purpose. He has to be. 

“Alright, kids, it’s time for a pop quiz. You know the drill. Turn in your test at the front and wait for the bell to dismiss you.”

The teacher passes out a pop quiz for all the students to take, so you turn around and focus on your test.  Your teacher likes to give pop quizzes every Thursday, so is it really a pop quiz if everyone knows it’s coming? You scribble your name on it and start with question number one. You circle the right answer, going down the line until you get to the next page. You think you’re going at a good pace until you hear a chair screech signaling someone is getting up.

It better not be him. I swear to God if it is… Peter walks by your desk and places his finished test in the bin where the teacher wants it. You gasp silently at the thought of him being done only minutes after receiving the test. Sure, the test is easy and everyone passes them, but he can’t be done that quickly… can he? Peter catches your eyes with a smirk when he walks by you, and you roll your own out of annoyance. You’re not so annoyed at him being smart. You’re annoyed at the fact that Peter used to be so different before. You’re annoyed because you can’t figure it out.

After class is over, you head to the lunch room to meet our best friend, Amy. She is already at a table reserving your seat next to her. You grab the lunch special of the day and make your way over to her with a not-so-happy smile on your face.

“It’s Peter again, isn’t it?”

“He finished the pop quiz in minutes!” She shakes her head and stabs her salad with her fork. “Amy, you should have seen how cocky he looked. God, I wanna wring his neck.”

“Have you ever asked yourself why he gets on your nerves like that?”

“Yeah, because he’s fucking annoying, that’s why.”

Peter walks in after grabbing his lunch from his locker and meets up with his best friend. You forgot his name. They talk all the time but you’re not really interested in his friend. Peter is stuck inside your mind as you try to figure out what’s different about him. Your eyes are locked on him, studying his every move, trying to figure out his next step. He looks the same. He talks the same. He has the same friend. Yet there is something different about him, something more dangerous.

“You’re doing it again,” Amy nudges you.

“Something is up with Peter.  Something is different. He’s different.”

“Stop stalking your crush and eat your food.”

“Ew, he’s not my crush.”

“Mmhmm.”

You grab a carrot stick to munch on while keeping an eye on Peter. He walks with his friend to the table they want to sit at, trays of food in their hands. Flash is at one of the tables joking with his friends when he sticks his foot out to trip Peter, expecting his food to go flying everywhere. What no one expected is Peter to catch every fucking item back onto his tray like it never left it at all. The angrier you get, the more you gnaw on your carrot stick. Peter used to be so clumsy but it’s like he got an upgrade, and you need to know how he did it.

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious as to why Peter got what looks like powers?”

“Not really,” Amy shrugs and keeps eating.

After lunch, you two make your way to your lockers which just so happen to be next to each other. You might have bribed your way into getting a locker next to hers but it’s worth it. You two can gossip in secret without anyone hearing.

“Do you think there will be a flower in there today?”

“Probably like there has been for the past week.”

You put your code into the lock and open your locker, staring at the beautiful single flower resting against your textbooks. Every day for the past week, a single flower has been left in your locker by someone anonymous. It’s always been a different flower that has not yet been repeated. There is no note, no indication of who put it there, or why. Yesterday, there was a pink rose and today it’s a purple carnation.

“I think it’s romantic. Someone has a crush on you,” Amy grins.

“What do I do? I have to find out who is doing this.”

“Well, when did it start?”

“Last week on Monday.”

“Isn’t that when the new flower shop opened in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Stalk that place. Whoever is getting you flowers has to be getting them from somewhere, and my bet is it’s from that place. See who stops by there after school, see what they buy, and if that flower shows up tomorrow, you have your answer.”

“This is why I keep you around. You’re the smart one.”

“Street smart. You’re book smart.” The bell rings to signal the next period, and she slams her locker closed. “I gotta go. Tell me how it goes!”

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch, probably because you don’t have another class with Peter. If you had, you’d be spending all your time obsessing over him. God, you sound like a desperate girl. You’re not. You’re just obsessed with finding out what’s different about him. Why hasn’t anyone else noticed this about Peter?

As soon as the final bell rings, you rush out of school like a bat out of hell. You want to get to the shop before the other students have a chance to leave, If you’re going to find out who is doing this, then you have to be the first one there. As if the universe is on your side, you’re the first one inside the flower shop. No one else is browsing which means it’s the perfect time to find a hiding spot.

“Hi! Welcome in! Do you need help finding something?”

You look up and see the friendly female cashier.

“No, thank you. I’m just looking.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do!”

You walk around the flower shop and admire the different kinds of flowers as you wait for someone to walk in. A few people come in over the next two hours but no one young enough to be in high school. You’re about to give up when the bell on top of the door rings to signal someone walked in. You look between two flowers and see none other than Peter Parker. You quickly hide in hopes he didn’t see you, and by the looks of it, he didn’t.

“Hey, Peter!” the cashier greets.

“Sandra. How are you?”

“Good! Are you here for another flower?”

“Yeah. Something different. Something I haven’t used before.”

“I saved a good bunch for you.” She walks to the back and retrieves a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Instead of handing him the whole thing, she takes a single flower from the bunch and hands it over to him. He takes out his wallet to pay but she waves him off. “It’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? I’d like to pay some time.”

“You can when you get the girl. Did she find your other flower?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods shyly.

“Are you ever going to ask her out?”

“I don’t know. I think she hates me.”

“Well, after she sees this flower, she won’t,” she winks.

Peter takes the yellow flower and leaves the store. If you don’t get home now, your parents will be mad. You sneak out of the shop and run all the way home, excited to see what kind of flower you’re going to find in your locker tomorrow. When tomorrow comes, the first thing you do is go straight to your locker. Amy is already by hers, putting her books into it and grabbing the one she needs for her first class.

“Hey, did you stake out the flower shop?”

“Yeah. Peter walked in and got a yellow orchid. A single flower. He and the cashier talked as if they had known each other for years.”

You open your locker and gasp when you see a yellow orchid sitting at the bottom of your locker. You grab it with delicate fingers and admire the bright color against your skin. Peter thinks you hate him. You don’t. Peter and his friend round the corner and head in the direction where you and Amy are. Maybe you can get over your obsession with finding out why he’s different and just enjoy his company. Peter looks up and sees you with the yellow flower he picked out yesterday with a huge smile on your face. You wait until he passes by you to say what you have to say.

“This is my favorite flower. I really like it.”

You don’t have to look at him directly to see the smile that comes onto his face. Different or not, Peter is still as cheesy as he was when you first met him.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fluff #peter parker fiction #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fan fic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

[softtdaisy]

this is so self indulgent. imagine peter dating someone who stress bakes. one day peter gets really stressed over a mission and kinda takes it out on the reader and leaves. the reader now thinks that she did something wrong and starts baking his favorite things. eventually, peter comes home only to find out that his apartment has turned into a bakery and that his gf is crying while decorating a cake

_bakery

peter parker x fem!reader

based on: this request above

summary: when you feel like peter is mad at you, you decide to bake his favorite cakes

words: 803

a/n: I hope this story goes with what you had in mind. you didn't specify which peter you wanted this to be about so I put tasm!Peter but I can change that if you want ♥️

join my secret garden for my 1k celebration 🌸

“Just…leave me alone. For real.”

That was the last thing Peter told you, a few hours ago. He had just come back from a stressful mission. The type that played with his mind and made him wonder if he was making the right choice by being a superhero. Or even if he deserved to be. 

The thing was when Peter was stressed, he was not the most affectionate boyfriend. So of course, when you started to comfort him, not only did he reject you, but he took it out on you. He said some mean things until he decided to leave, claiming that he was better off alone than here with you.

So now you were home alone, convinced that you did something wrong and that maybe Peter wasn’t even loving you anymore. You were so scared of losing him one day that you saw this kind of moment as the beginning of the end of your relationship. 

And the only thing that managed to calm your stress, or at least to make you think about something else, was to bake. It has always been a kind of therapy, it helped you focus on something other than your problems. And sometimes, after you finished, you felt better. Today, you hoped it would help Peter forgive you.

You made a list of the things he liked the most, to pick some and decided which one you wanted to make. Turned out, you couldn’t choose one and decided to follow different recipes to make sure there would be one he would like to eat when he comes back. Was it a lot of work? Yes. It even stressed you a little more to have to bake all of these without making any mistakes and making sure they were all good. 

When you finished three of them, you felt glad that you had this amazing idea. When you were baking the fourth one, you started to wonder if you weren’t making all of this for nothing. Peter had been good for a few hours already and he still hadn’t given you any news. Was he alright? Was he planning on coming back?

Turned out, he did. 

Peter was coming home after spending a few hours at the top of different buildings. He needed to think about himself, about what he was doing. He needed to come back to place that meant something. And when he arrived at one of the rooftops, he brought you to when you started dating, he realized how bad he was towards you. He never meant to hurt you or to say anything that would break your heart. Most of the time, he didn’t even realize what he said before he saw your reaction. Today he didn’t get to see it since he ran away to focus on himself. But now he was ready to apologize and prove you how much he cared about. How glad he was that you were by his sides.

However, he was definitely not ready to find his apartment smelling like a bakery. There was a mix of his different favorite cakes smells. It smelt good. But it wasn’t supposed to smell like that. It didn’t take him long to understand what that meant.

When Peter entered the kitchen, he found you crying in front of the cake you were decorating. “Oh my god baby, are you alright?” If he knew what was probably going on right now, Peter feared that you might hurt yourself. He didn’t hesitate and took you in his arm, brushing your hair slowly and rocking you slowly to calm you down. He gave you little kiss on your hair to appease you and you seemed to be more relaxed. 

“I…I wanted to make you happy with all these cakes, so that you wouldn’t be mad at me anymore, but I got lost in all of these recipes and…”

“Wait a second.” He took your face between his hands to look at you in the eyes. “Why would I be mad at you? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He frowned, trying to think about something you might have said or done but you were always so nice to him that nothing came to his mind. Then it struck him. “Is it because I left? Because it has nothing to do with you. Just because I needed some time by myself doesn’t mean I don’t love you with all my heart.” Peter took you in his arms again. You mumbled an “I love you too” against him, trusting him.

That’s when Peter noticed all the other cakes. “Ok, so we are going to eat cakes for every meal for a few days.” He laughed and kissed your hair. Nobody ever did this to him. It was probably the biggest proof of love he ever got.

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker story #tasm!Peter Parker imagine #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader #my writing #1k celebration

[spicyicetea]

Although the poll isn’t over, I wanted to start writing the first few chapters of the VariousYandere!JJBA x reader. Mainly because it’s going to take a while to catch up to where I am currently in the anime so I wanted to at least get the prologue done. From the current poll, it seems you guys want Y/N to be completely powerless, I didn’t expect that at all cause I thought that’d be boring but I would be damned if I didn’t give the people what they wanted. This does make the goal of saving as many people as possible difficult given Y/N will be unable to aid in fights in anyway- my solution to this issue is having an additional character to help Y/N. I decided this will be in the style of an isekai, with the Y/N being an ordinary person from reality (I’m pretty sure I made that clear in the other post) so the other character will be their roommate. I’m placing the Y/N character as a university/college student (I’m English so Uni is like 18 and above but I’ve heard some places have college to around that age so you can decide which one you prefer to imagine) but exact age isn’t ever specified- you are said to be younger than the other person though. All characters that are yandere for Y/N are 18+ the only characters that will stay under 18 are platonic relations. Either way, with all of that out of the way, enjoy the prologue.

You were always ours

JJBA Various!Yandere x Reader

MDNI with this story it will contain NSFW themes and behaviour, you are responsible for the content you consume

(Prologue)/ Next part

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called from across the street.

Turning down the music that blasted in your ears, an arm wrapped around your shoulders pulling you to look at them. A blonde woman grinned with a devious snicker, her hand slipping into the bag clutched at your side. The others she had been with waved goodbye and crossed the road, avoiding the busy traffic that usually crowded the streets just after lectures were over.

“Oh, I thought you were staying behind for that club you’re in.” You say, slipping the headphones off your head.

“Yeah, it was cancelled so I thought come hunt you down. You never spend time with me after classes, so I’m going to make you! We’re gonna go bowling!”

“Eliana… with whose money?”

The blonde paused and let out a nervous laugh. “Yours?”

“Nope, you still haven’t paid me back for the three dinners in a row I paid for.”

“Y/NNnnnnnn don’t do this-“

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your lips, as she pouted dramatically and rifled through her own wallet to confirm her own lack of cash. Despite having known her since you were basically toddlers, her behaviour never became boring. Headache inducing, but not boring.

The blonde girl was Eliana Hounds, she was by far your closest friend. Your parents themselves were best friends so the two of you had been playmates since day one. She was always an extrovert, loves to be loud and obnoxious and those who don’t run, are her new friends whether they like it or not. Despite that though, she was dependable as hell. While your gaggle of friends was in their delinquent era she would often take the fall for pranks that she wasn’t even involved with. Plus there was that incident with your ex…she beat the crap about of them. In your dorms she is your roommate, often watching her anime into the early hours of the morning in the shared living room. She had always been really into anime, trying to get you to watch whatever she was hyperfixating on at the time. Much to her disappointment, you often turned her down. Not because you weren't interested, but damn your professors loved giving you essays and you simply didn't have time for sitting around anymore.

“Well then, we can hang out in our dorm! Yeah, I’m rewatching one of my favourite anime’s and you said you’re taking a break from that essay! We can watch it together.” She confidently said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you with her down the street.

You opened your mouth in protest, only to pause and just sigh. She was right. You had pulled an all nighter the previous night and managed to finish your essay already. Maybe it would be okay to take the weekend easy, plus a new anime sounds nice, Eliana always had good tastes.

“Sure why not.”

Arriving in the dorm, Eliana kicked her shoes off, taking the grocery bag from around your wrist. You muttered a small thanks as you neatened the shoes in the doorway, following her into the living room as she rifled through the bag. The food you had just got from the shop laid on the coffee table as she rubbed her hands together with a hungry grin.

“Instant ramen, spam, ooo even some bacon and eggs! We’re eating food tonight.”

“Excuse me, but I wanted to enjoy that!”

“We can share! Come on Y/N, you wouldn’t let me starve.”

You just raised a brow with a smirk and she huffed, getting up from the sofa.

“I can make some fried rice with the leftover rice in the fridge?” She offered with a sheepish grin.

“Good, I’ll set up in here, you mind cooking the meat and eggs too?”

She nodded and scooped up what she needed, before leaving to our small kitchen. You followed her to grab two large bowls and put the kettle on, taking the bowls back and setting them down on the coffee table. With a small struggle the instant ramen packet tore open, small pieces of the dry noodles hitting the table. Now cracked in half, the ramen clacked against the porcelain bowls as you tore open the seasoning packet with your teeth.

“Oh… there’s no way this is enough for both of us…”

“What’s wrong?” Eliana yelled from the kitchen.

“Seasoning packet! This is gonna be some bland ass ramen… damn.”

“Well, aren’t I just the best friend in the world! Whenever I make extra ramen for my binge sessions, I only use one flavouring sachet. Check behind the paprika on the… ya know spinning thing.”

“The lazy Susan? Alright.” You muttered, rummaging through the seasoning and grabbing the blank foil packages. It was impossible to tell what flavour they were, so you just had to pick one and pray it would taste good with the ramen.

Time passed quickly until the thrown together dinner was done, but it smelt amazing. Eliana had already burnt her tongue twice with her ramen broth, seeming to not learn her lesson when she goes in the third time.

“Hey, wait and let it cool down a little!”

“Sorry sorry I’m just so hungry!”

You sigh but laugh at her behaviour handing her the Tv remote as something brushes against your leg. Looking to your side you spot Eliana’s pet, although he followed you most the time.

“Why don’t you get the anime ready and I’ll feed Mochi.” Eliana just nodded in response, logging into her Netflix as you scooped up the bunny and took him to the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before the small bunny was happily gorging himself on his own dinner as your stomach growled for yours. When you entered the living room the intro for the first episode was already playing. Jojo’s bizarre adventure?

“Is the adventure really so bizarre?” You jokingly ask, sitting beside Eliana.

“Heh, you bet, this show is weird as hell but I bet good money you’ll like it!”

You both sat in silence, letting the intro play before it seemed to buffer. A blue haired man and a blonde haired man appeared on the screen seeming to be arguing.

“What? This isn’t where episode one should start… did I click the wrong one?” Eliana picked up the Tv remote and froze, it slipping from her fingers and she slumped forwards, her face hitting the table.

“Holy shit! Eliana?” You kneeled at her side , trying to shake her awake. When you looked back up to try and figure out what happened your eyes met the Tv. It was no longer just the men from before, multiple others stood beside them, staring you down.

“You finally notice us, took you long enough. That bitch only ever let us see you once before now.” One said, adjusting the hat he wore to show his eyes clearer.

You just stared at the Tv in shock, cradelling Eliana’s body. Suddenly it felt like something grabbed you from behind, strong arms locking you in the hunched over position. Said arms didn’t seem as imaginary as you wished they were, looking down and seeing the purple appendages holding you tightly. A splitting pain spread through your head starting at one of your eyes, the world going blurry. Everything felt like it was spinning, only catching a glimpse of your own semi unconscious body in the reflection of your phone before passing out. A strange star had taken the place of one of your pupils. None of this was making any sense.

“Eliana…” you groaned as you fell unconscious, squeezing her hand as you did.

(There it is, I hope it seems good so far. As the poll isn’t really moving I’m going to try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible. I apologise for the clear biases I will have to certain characters and parts in the series- I will cover as much as I can but I’m itching for my jotaro ok- I… I’m a simp and want him, don’t pretend your not. But I will be covering part 1 and 2 before then don’t worry and there will be extensive scenes with the MCs for said part. Prepare for me to baby girl Speedwagon he deserves it-)

#x reader #yandere x reader #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jjba x y/n #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jjba #jjba x reader #yandere jjba x you #yandere jjba x y/n #jjba x you #jjba #yandere jojo’s bizzare adventure

[elliespassagerprincess]

Hi I’m the person who requested Ellie x read based on Mary - Alex g u don’t have to answer this ask I just forgot to specify in my previous one if u could write it like “Mary” in the song is reader and Ellie is the person who’s singing? Tysm again!!

Mary - (ellie williams x reader)

hi pookie! I did exactly what you asked I just added twist! If you don't like it, just pm me and I'll write you a new story! I hope you enjoy <;33

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to leave one:) or just send me a song and I'll take it from there. Remember if you want something specific to happen, please indicate it in your request.

Warnings: mental illness, mental hospitals, manhandling and mentions of pills, medication, injections and brief mentions of violence

Summary: In which Ellie wrote you a song.

Mary is the girl that I wanna kiss

She's got big red eyes and big red lips

She's got big sharp teeth and big fat hips

Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck

She's got leather heart and leather gloves

She's the only girl that I wanna love

Ellie has always referred to you as Mary. She never knew your real name.

All the times she'd beg you to answer her you'd simply giggle and say: "it's better being a secret"

You were everything Ellie has always wanted. The girl she was so madly in love with, and she didn't even know your name. You were the only thing keeping her sane at this point.

The night Ellie had met you, you sat alone outside on a bench, singing the nursery rhyme Mary had a little lamb over and over again. And the name Mary just stuck with Ellie since them.

You were her Mary. The only girl that she ever wanted to love.

Ellie liked to imagine that in a perfect world it would just be the two of you.

One where she doesn't have to stay in a mental institution. And where you don't have to sneak in every night.

Ellie was sick and tired if this place and truly doesn't know why Joel would send her here.

The walls were painted white, and all she had in her room was a bed.

"Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck?" You raised your eyebrows slightly at Ellie's vulgar lyrics.

Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink when you brought it up.

"Yeah" Ellie spoke softly.

"You wanna fuck me?" You asked Ellie with a smile on your face.

"I mean yeah-"

The sound of keys jiggling could be heard from down the hall. Ellie let out as quick gasp at that.

Fuck it must've been time to take her meds.

Ellie watched as you quickly jumped out the window, the paper containing the song Ellie wrote dedicated to you slowly falling to the ground. In an instant Ellie jumped up quickly picking up the paper and she stuffed it into her bra.

The door opened as Ellie casually sat on her bed waiting for the nurse to arrive. Nurse Elizabeth walked in with a huge smile on her face.

Ellie rolled her eyes as the nurse, who walked towards her trying to make small talk.

Who the fuck is this happy while working in mental institution?

Ellie took the pills from the nurses hand before, she put it into her mouth. Ellie drank the water that the nurse gave to her, wishing all of this was over and that you'd just come back.

"Open up" the nurse spoke as she put her finger into Ellies mouth.

The girl gagged slightly as the nurse reached her finger further and further down her throat.

"Sorry" the nurse spoke "I have to make sure you take your meds" she finished as she gave Ellie an empathic smile.

All Ellie did was hum and lay down. The nurse soon left and Ellie heard the door lock.

She sat up immediately spitting out the pills.

"Do they really taste taste bad?" Ellie heard your voice.

"How did you get back here so fast?" she asked.

All you did was give her a wink before you walked towards her, opening your hand.

Ellie stared down confused before she realized that you were looking for the song. She quickly pulled the note from her bra as she handed you the paper.

A smile took over your face as you continued reading the lyrics.

And all Ellie could do was smile and enjoy the final moments she has with you for that day before you would disappear again.

Listen to me, baby, I don't mind

I wanna be with you and waste my time

Give it to me, baby, I feel good

I wanna feel whatever you think I should

Sing it for me, baby, play my song

I wanna hear your daddy singing along

5 more months.

5 more fucking months, Ellie had to be in this fucking hell hole.

As Ellie walked down the hall she gazed into the other people's rooms. There were some really messed up people in here.

Truthfully Ellie doesn't know why she's here. She doesn't deserve it.

She wonders why you were here. She wonders why you only come at night. She wonders why she never sees you when she's with people. She wonders in which room you were staying.

So many questions so little answers.

Today was Wednesday. Which meant that they had a talent show. Every Wednesday all the different wards would come together and each patient could show their talent.

Ellie never participated. She always thought it was cringe and stupid. But today she wanted to do something she wanted to sing you the song she had written for you.

As Ellie sat in the room she watched different patients go up to front to do their thing. Some would sing, some would dance and some would just stand there awkwardly.

When Ellie raised her hand to go next, the nurse called out her patient number as she got up and walked towards the front.

Ellie shakily held the paper as she looked up to the crowd.

She saw you standing at the back, giving her a huge smile and a thumbs up.

God you were beautiful.

She could do this. She was doing this for you.

Ellie closed her eyes as she started singing the song.

She sang about your eyes, and how your lips were painted red with lipstick the night you met. She sang about your hips and how she so badly wanted to hold you. How badly she just wanted a taste.

You were only girl Ellie wanted to spend the rest of life with and yet she didn't even know your name.

But you'll always be her Mary.

As Ellie finished her song, the crowd clapped their hands, and a small smile appeared on Ellies face.

Her smile soon disappeared when she saw you weren't in the crowd anymore.

Where were you? Didn't you like her song? Do you hate her? What happened?

As Ellie was thinking she felt a hand on her shoulder. Ellie turned around, and her eyes met with one the the nurses.

"Doctor Bernard wants to see you"

Mary is the girl that leaves you to rot

She says, "I am real and you are not"

She says, "I am real and you are not"

"Ellie how long have you been seeing this girl?" Doctor Bernard asked her.

"Her name is Mary" she replied not answering his question.

"Mary isn't real"

"she is"

"Ellie you're seeing things" The doctor started. "That's why you're here, that's why you take medicine-"

"no you're lying" Ellie yelled as she got up from her chair. Her arms were quickly grabbed by the staff as they lowered her back down into the chair. The autumn brow haired girl started screaming as she was forced to sit down again.

"She's fucking real" Ellie yelled as she lunged forward, another nurse ran from the side holding an injection to Ellie's throat.

Doctor Bernard raised his hand telling the nurse to move away.

"Ellie calm down so we can talk about this"

Heavy breathes fell from Ellies lips as she looked to the floor, saliva started dripping from her lips. The room felt hot.

"She's real" Ellie breathed almost in tears. Why aren't they listening to her?

"it's ok I believe you"

And as soon as he said that Ellie looked up with her eyes wide.

"You believe me?" She asked in genuine shock.

They always told her she was crazy. They always told her there was something wrong with her, but now he believes her?

Ellie felt relived. She really wasn't crazy.

"I do" he said.

"How did she get in?"

"You won't hurt her if I tell you?" Ellie asked.

Your safety was the most important, Ellie didn't want you to end up in solitary or worse, a higher dose of whatever medication they were giving you.

"I won't he promised, now tell me"

"She comes in through the window"

Ellie watched his facial expression closely. She watched him look up to the staff as he gave them a nod. Ellie felt the nurses holding her, gripping her even stronger.

"what the fuck-" Ellie cried as she felt them hold her harder. Ellie felt a cold metal against her neck as she she screamed.

"you said you believed me!"

She kicked, she cried, she spat and she swore but nothing helped.

Soon the drug kicked in and Ellie felt her whole body go limp. She felt them lower her to the floor and she felt very sleepy.

"You said you believed me" Ellie breathed one more time as she looked at doctor Bernard standing above her.

"Ellie there isn't a window in your room"

Ellie felt tired, it was as if everything around her was slowing down.

"Mary isn't real, she never was"

Ellie opened her mouth to talk but no words came out.

The last thing Ellie heard that day was: "you are real and she is not"

Authors note: this one was quite short but it still fucking hit dude... remember my requests are always open and that you are loved...

Yours truly,

Zia<3

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou x reader #ellie tlou2 x reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #dark! ellie williams #ellie miller #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams one shot #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams promlt #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader

[hide-in-imagination]

Another question, hehe yes it's me again 😅 To specify the scene, what do you think would have happened and how would the story between Ámbar and Simón have unfolded if Benicio had not appeared here? ( i mean episode 10 in the third series)

I actually wrote a whole oneshot about this, which I was going to refer you to, but then I read it and I realized it's cringy as hell and I need to re-write it, so don't read it kjsdnf.

What could've happened? Well, if Benicio didn't show up, they definitely would've kissed, and then maybe Juliana could've shown up instead, like I wrote in my oneshot. If not that, well, they would've have to stop kissing at some point either way and face the music.

I imagine they would move a little away from each other and look around self-consciously once they realize what they had just done in such a public place.

-----------

Simón cleared his throat, still looking away from her. "It seems like Benicio is still missing, so we can stop the rehearsal, right?" He said quickly.

Ámbar was looking at him and she couldn't stop the ironic humor from pouring out. "You're gonna call that a rehearsal? Because I don't remember there being any kiss in the choreography, let me tell you." Her lips were still tingling; she did not imagine that.

Simón kept his head low as he skated back to the bleachers. Ámbar followed after him, watching as he sat as if to take off his skates.

"Hi, sorry to insist," she told him more harshly this time, in opposition to her words, "I know you want to go and all, but it seems to me like it's been proven very clearly that it doesn't bother you to skate with me, nor do other stuff with me, and I've got plenty of witnesses," she gestured around, "in case you want to ask them."

Simón finally desisted in taking off his skates and instead got up once more, standing in front of her.

"Make fun of me all you want but what happened there was about us two, not just me."

"I'm not making fun--"

He scoffed and looked away. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not making fun of you, but could you please-" she grabbed his chin and made him look at her "-look me in the eye and face that it happened? Don't just ignore me."

Simón searched her face moment. "Okay." The look on his face settled on something kind of like a dare, but with the complete confidence that he already knew the outcome. "Okay, you wanna talk about feelings? I'm listening." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited.

Ámbar's brows raised up high and she huffed out a laugh. "'Feelings'? You mean the feelings you have towards me, I imagine. Feel free to admit to them whenever you want."

"And you feel nothing towards me," he said like a question.

Ámbar shrugged, her thumbs tucked inside her back pockets in the perfect image of nonchalance. "I mean, not nothing nothing, obviously. I've never denied that I'm somewhat interested in you."

Simón's face was never really open but it was completely closed off now.

He nodded slowly to himself. "Right." He moved a little closer. "Look, how about this?" He proposed. "I'm going to get back to work, and whenever you feel like admitting anything, you can go and look for me, okay?"

He turned around and left before she could say another word.

Ámbar deflated and rolled her eyes before returning to the rink.

...It seemed like she would have to drop her act if she wanted to get anywhere with Simón.

She just wasn't sure if it was worth it, yet.

-------I'll leave the dialogue in Spanish here too just because------

"Parece que Benicio sigue sin aparecer, así que podemos dejar el ensayo, ¿no?"

"¿'Ensayo' le vas a llamar a eso? Perdonáme pero que yo recuerde no había ningún beso en la coreografía."

*Simón se va a los asientos a sacarse los patines*

"Perdón que te insista, sé que te querés ir y todo, pero me parece que quedó bastante claro que no te molesta patinar conmigo, o hacer otras conmigo, y tengo varios testigos, por si les querés preguntar."

"Búrlate todo lo que quieras pero lo que pasó ahí fue cosa de los dos, no solo de mí."

"No me estoy burlando--"

Él bufó. "Sí, claro--"

"No me estoy burlando pero ¿me podés mirar a los ojos por favor y afrontar que pasó? No me ignorés así."

"...Okay. Okay, ¿quieres hablar sentimientos? Te escucho."

Ella expulsó una risa y levantó las cejas. "¿Sentimientos? Los sentimientos que vos tenés por mí, querrás decir. Lo podés admitir cuando quieras."

"Y tú no sientes nada por mí" lo dijo como si fuera una pregunta.

She shrugged, her thumbs in her back pockets in the stark image of nonchalance. "O sea, nada de nada no, obviamente. Nunca he ocultado que algo me interesás."

Él asintió para sí mismo. "Claro." "Mira, ¿qué te parece esto? Yo voy a volver a trabajar, y cuando sea que tú quieras admitir algo, vas y buscas, ¿órale?"

#anon #answered #simbar #short writings #my old oneshots are so cringyyyyyyy #I feel tempted to just replace the old one with this one but I won't because there's always someone out there who might love it #you guys should thank me for having the restraint to just not delete all of my old stuff for good #btw Spanish translation under the cut-- well... sort of

[emxie]

When the World Was At War We Kept Waltzing

You are the sole heir to one of the wealthiest families in the country. A charming and mysterious stranger steals your heart. What could go wrong?

Zhongli x Fem Reader

Warnings: Blood, gore, murder/massacre, violence, one curse word, slightly suggestive content, somewhat yandere Zhongli

Word Count: 3139

A/N: There are several influences that inspired this piece. Music plays a huge part in my writing, so originally I drew inspiration from Lana Del Rey, specifically her Born To Die album, which I love to pieces. Of course, this song title is basically from a Lana Del Rey song (from her Lust for Life album), except for the last word, which I changed to "Waltzing" both for alliteration/phonetics purposes, and because it fits the theme of the fic more. You might recognize influences from Hamilton and Parasite, as I also like these pieces of media. When I first started writing it, I meant to include more angst, but as I formed the story, it morphed into a darker storyline and came to involve some blood and gore. What can I say, I just enjoy writing horror. Additionally, you might notice some repeating motifs throughout the story, specifically involving color. After reading The Great Gatsby, I have been fundamentally changed as a person, and thus why this fic also contains color symbolism and repetition of such themes. Also, although it's a bit vague and I didn't specify the time period in the actual story, I like to imagine that this takes place in the 1920s (just like The Great Gatsby), and there's like the sense of grandeur and riches associated with the time period (until it all goes south with the stock market crash, but let's pretend that didn't exist in this fic).

Enough about the background. I have not gotten Zhongli yet, despite doing 30 rolls and then some, and his banner is still continuing for another week and a half or so, so I'm saving more primogems up to roll more for him. Please come home Zhongli!!!! I'm so desperate you're the one character I would pay money for. Anyways, take this fic as another cry for help from the RNG gods to give me Zhongli.

I hope you enjoy the story, and remember that if you are triggered by violence and graphic imagery, or yandere-type characters, please don't read this fic.

“Would you like to be mine, and I yours?”

That was what he had asked you on this balcony laden with brocade ribbons and your heart bursting with passion.

A breathy “Yes” passed your lips, and then he was on your lips, gripping the bodice with a ferocity bridled. You two had stayed like that under the moonlight, broken up only by the occasional crackle of a firework.

You ran your fingers over the marble balustrade. Memories danced through your mind, earning a small sardonic quirk at the corner of your mouth.

How naïve you were.

That night set in motion a series of elaborate plans, not that you were aware.

Not even a week later, he had asked your father for your hand in marriage. You watched, holding your breath, as he sat across the furnished oak table from your father. As they talked, his hands continued to move as if they were their own entity, gesticulating to convey his intense love for you.

After an hour of discussion, you watched as your father reached across the table to shake hands with your love.

He stood up, moving across the room to where you sat. His amber eyes glowed as he reached out to you, gloved hands an inviting trap. You took his hand, standing up and being pulled into a tight hug. He brushed his lips against your ear. “You’re mine, beloved.”

🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟

After another month of bliss, engaged to the man who had taken your heart in its entirety, painting it red with his raging passion for you and entreating you to his cause, the wedding was announced. And it would be a sight to behold.

The absolutely sheer size and amount of wealth your family possessed signified that this would be a legendary union for ages to come. Invites slipped into envelopes and marked with your family’s seal, a dove holding an olive branch, were sent to hundreds around the country. Day in and day out maids and ladies-in-waiting would pester you about the dress, the flowers, the decorations, the theme, the ring you wished to gift your soon-to-be husband, and a variety of other accessories.

In the few spare moments you were able to catch with your fiancé, you would find yourself within his arms, gripping onto his broad shoulders as he bent down and kissed you. Occasionally you two would get a little too riled up, and had to cut your loving short lest a servant find you. But in those several times you found yourself subject to his more intense states, you were shivering, eager to learn what it was finally like to be loved by such a fierce and powerful man. And as you grabbed onto his long black and caramel locks which trailed behind him whenever he walked, pulling him down into a rough kiss, his hands ghosting your body feverishly, you couldn’t wait to be wed.

And wed you would be. For it was the day of your holy union to the one you loved, and excitement thrummed throughout your body as you were being dressed. The maids were straightening out the final pieces of your outfit. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you could hardly recognize the person staring back at you. The intricate makeup, paired with the dramatic crimson dress that you chose, was certainly a statement. Layers of bright red fabric made a beautiful waterfall all the way from your chest to your ankles. Making the decision to dress so boldly was another way to ensure the strength and legacy of your family among the wealthy. Of course, at the time, you didn’t think much of how he had suggested you wear a certain color.

They placed the scarlet veil over your face, obscuring your vision. It was time.

You walked out of the dressing room, a couple of servants gathering the glorious gradient of a tulle train behind you. The presence of such a color caused pride to swell in your heart, and your back straightened and you felt a bit taller as you slowly stepped, in sangria-colored heels no less, towards your future.

🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟

You had arrived at the venue where the wedding was to be held. Hundreds of people, most whom you knew from previous encounters, milled around the entrance. Your maids guided you towards a side entrance, so that you would be prepared to walk down the aisle once everyone was seated.

After some time waiting, you were informed that everyone had gotten settled, and it was about time for you to walk.

Rising from your seat, you passed another mirror in the room before leaving. Glancing at your reflection, you noted how your appearance seemed to herald…something. You resembled a specter; of what kind though, would remain unseen.

🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟

Regal doors, carved with designs of divine intervention, could barely be seen beyond your veil. There was a hand clenching around your heart. You could feel your pulse speed up. This was it. The beginning of your happy ever after.

Your father stood to your right, looping your arm with his. “Look at my gorgeous pumpkin, already so grown up.” You offered a delicate smile at these words.

A grinding noise sounded as the doors opened. Music began to play as you began the slow trek to the altar. Each step felt like an eternity. There was a noticeable hush as you began to walk.

Your gaze swept over the guests. You could make out some familiar faces. They looked as if they were drenched in a red liquid due to the filtering effects of the veil.

Then you were there. Your father handed you off, and stepped to the side. Looking up, you saw him.

He was dressed handsomely, in a suit matching your dress’s vivid choice of color. The sleeves stopped just above his wrists, allowing you to focus on his hands. Black gloves still covered his hands, barring you from viewing the naked flesh underneath. A little miffed, but undeterred by such an occurrence, your eyes moved up to his face.

He possessed a strong profile. Intense golden eyes, an angled bridge of a nose, lips that were straight-set, yet still so luscious and plump (you knew from kissing them so often), and a jawline to die for.

His eyes trailed over your body, taking in the sight of how beautifully you had dressed up. Just for him.

The music ceased. Only the occasional shuffling noise could be heard from the guests.

“We gather here today to celebrate a most momentous union!” The priest announced with a wide sweep of his arms. Some polite applause ensued, before dying into oblivion again.

The priest continued on with his speech. Some of the words became lost on you. Staring into those glowing amber eyes really did make you lose track of time.

With the exchange of the rings, you gave him a black ring carved from obsidian with ruby and gold veins running through it. In return, he gave you a typical diamond ring, although the jewel was perched atop a red crown. The priest was about to conclude.

“You may kiss the bride,” he declared. Your husband leaned in, grasping your soft hands in his rough leather gloves. He placed one hand behind your back and dipped you, while flipping the veil behind your head in one fluid motion. The crowd gasped in awe at his movement.

You could finally view his handsome face, unhindered by red. He kissed you, those plush lips resting comfortably on yours, just as they did on that nighttime balcony escapade. His eyes flashed a golden brown as he did so, so fast that you missed it. Your eyes fluttered shut, basking in his unwavering attention.

You didn’t feel the veil floating back down to shield your face from the atrocities committed. Almost. The absence of his warm lips and firm grip had you opening your eyes, searching for the touch of your husband.

The world was swathed in red. The guests were asleep, draped over the chairs in awkward and unnatural positions. Your father was slumped in his chair. Standing in the middle of the aisle was your husband. You ran up to him, hiking up your dress to reach his side.

“What happened?” you inquired.

“It had to be done,” he whispered, shoulders stiff as he stared down at the ground, hands entrenched in his pockets.

“Wait, what had to be done? What do you mean by that?” You backed up, heel skidding on the marble surface almost too easily. Tumbling backwards, you landed with only the padding of your dress breaking your fall.

The sudden motion tossed your veil backwards.

It was red. Everything was red. Red. Red. RED.

A scream clawed its way out of your throat. You back-pedaled on the floor, away from the man. No longer was his aura inviting. The love within your heart was obliterated in an instant, crushed by the rising fear that swallowed every warm emotion in its dark terror.

Your hand slipped. Catching yourself on your elbows, you looked to the side. A slick scarlet substance coated your hand. You knew what it was.

Your stomach twisted into a knot at the sight, sending a wave of nausea throughout your body.

The clicking of dress shoes against the floor had you freezing in place, too afraid to do anything else. What could he possibly want? You thought that you had it all, and he had truly loved you.

He knelt down in front of you, cupping your face with a bare hand dyed garnet. You flinched as his soiled skin made contact with you. You didn’t miss the sorrow in those entrancing golden eyes as he witnessed you shy away from him.

“I had to do it, my dear dove.”

“Why? WHY?!” you yelled, slapping away his hand. “My entire family is dead because of you!”

“Now; that’s not entirely true, princess.” He gestured with a grand sweep of his arm to your surroundings. “Give a great round of applause to your regularly-scheduled assassins!!!”

He chuckled at your puzzled expression, slowly morphing to one of wide-eyed horror. Several wedding guests arose from the prone bodies around them, dressed in all black and with Gatling guns slung over their back.

“I don’t understand. What could you possibly gain from murdering my family, much less hundreds of people?” you protested.

“Angel, angel, angel.” He tsked at your confusion.

In one quick smooth motion he had wrapped his hands around your head and placed his forehead against your own. You squirmed in his hold, cringing at the feeling of life, other people’s once thriving life, coating your once perfectly-coiffed hair.

“Oh, is my dear princess a little squeamish?” His voice had deepened, sending tremors throughout your body. You felt his fingers tighten around your locks, tugging on them ever so slightly.

“A small price to pay for the keys to an empire.”

It dawned on you.

“This…this entire time, I trusted you! How dare you scheme to steal my family’s fortune!” You struggled once more, and he released his hold on you, having thoroughly soaked your hair a crimson shade.

He began to pace in front of your weakened form.

“Beloved, you know that I only have the best intentions. Believe me, I really did fall in love with you. At least, that’s all it was at first. Did you know, the idea came to me in a dream, with you by my side? You gave me the idea. You agreed to be rid of the shackles of your family’s status and expectations in order to be by my side. And that’s when I reached for the sun, love.”

You spit at his shoes.

He stopped pacing. Leaning down, hovering over your body, he gripped your chin with a newfound strength, sending jolts of pain throughout your face. “You’re lucky I love my wife so much that I would be willing to overlook a little bit of deviance, when she should be rightfully punished.” As you were forced to look up, the amber eyes you had so loved to stare into for hours on end gleamed with a vicious ambition, thirsty for vengeance and glimmering with scathing deceit.

He released his hold, and continued to pace.

“I thought to myself: why not kill two birds with one stone? Continue my original plan of marrying you, but orchestrate the death of your father to gain access to an entirely new world of wealth.”

“You bastard! I hate you!” You screamed at him, voice growing more hoarse with each passing second.

“Now darling, I don’t think that’s an appropriate way to treat your dear husband,” he mused, shooting you another glance with those damned eyes.

You shut your mouth, the obscenities coming to a halt. Something sinister lurked beneath the surface of those eyes. And if you didn’t stop yelling, you didn’t want to know what he would do.

“Now, as I was saying, once we were legally married, I would be able to get rid of your father without anyone questioning my claim to your family’s assets.”

“Then why did you kill every other person in this room?” you questioned, voice cutting into his reasoning with a bitter hatred.

“Simple. They were collateral.” He shrugged as if this were the most rational approach to take.

“Don’t give me that sanctimonious bullshit,” you spat. “You know perfectly, as do I, that there was no need to shed so much blood over an act that could have been committed in secret.” Your voice cracked as the “secret” spilled over your lips. The gravity of this atrocious event hit you straight in the stomach, twisting your insides until you felt sick.

Sinking to the floor, you began to sob, body trembling against the cold floor. This time you ignored the drying vitality crusting over the white marble, for it could no longer distract you from the terrible truth that had been unveiled. You could not escape the claws of the dead, for they were forever persistent, leaving indelible rust-colored stains that permeated your dress, your skin, and your mind most of all.

He let you cry, until you could mourn no more.

Growing quiet, you whispered one thing through a raspy voice: “Why play your ace now?”

“I couldn’t just sit by and take the coward’s approach out. I had to go all out, my love. Otherwise, I would have no right to call you my wife, and you to call me your husband.”

“And how do you plan to cover this up? This isn’t some stupid business deal you can let fall through when it no longer suits you. These are lives you so carelessly crushed. You toyed with the fate of all these people. And you will pay.” You steeled your gaze at him, glaring with all of your might.

“I won’t let that happen, dove.” In one swift movement, he drew a pistol from his suit.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! As naturally as if he were breathing, he took four shots, clean right through the skulls of each of the assassins.

“There. No witnesses besides us two. I hired the assassins from a local mafia. We can blame the deaths on them and how it was part of a larger scheme to take over your family.”

He blew the smoke off the tip of the barrel before pocketing the pistol carefully.

“I believe it is time for us, lawfully wedded husband and wife, to return to our rightful mansion. I will talk to the authorities and handle the specifics, okay? All you have to do for me is sit pretty and act scared, princess.”

He placed another rough kiss to your head, burying his face in your bloody mussed hair. You didn’t respond. He took your left hand in his and placed a delicate kiss, right below the ring he had so lovingly slid onto your finger, which was now saturated through with the runny insides of others. You didn’t respond. He ran his hands, dipped in the sacrifices of others, down the sides of your dress. You didn’t respond. He sighed.

He slid one of his arms under your bottom, and supported your back with the other. “You know, you’ll have to talk to your dear husband sooner or later, dove. I won’t have any bad behavior from my wife.” 

Muttering these final words to your despondent form, your love, the one who had buried his fangs deep into your heart until it dripped red with desire, picked you up in his arms and carried you off, his own bride, back to your home—no, our home—where no one would be there to meet and congratulate you. Where your father would no longer be. And where you would never find happiness again.

🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟🎕⽕⼟

You sighed, running your hands up and down the railing of the balcony. It had been a year since you had first kissed him. A night you will never forget, and always come to regret.

“My darling, my dove, my angel, my princess, the light of my life.” Arms encircled your waist, and he buried his face into your neck. His hands, bared to the chill night air, toyed with your thin coral nightgown.

“What are you thinking about? I hate to see you look so miserable.”

You smiled, despite the pain in your dejected and blackened heart. “Just about the night we first kissed, honey.”

He peppered kisses against your skin. “Ah, yes. That night I wanted to ravage you and steal you for myself. Yet I withheld and waited, remaining patient and anticipating our marriage with open arms. If not for that night, we would never have married and gotten our happy ending. If not for that night, you would have been plucked out of my life forever, like a dying flower. I revitalized you, darling. Look at how you glow in the moonlight. My wife, all for myself.” Chuckling, the timbre of his voice rumbled against your skin.

Placing his right hand around your waist, kneading the soft flesh underneath his fingers, and interlacing the fingers of his left hand with your right, he began to sway with you from side to side. There was no music to guide you two. Yet you still danced, illuminated only by the moon and stars.

And so was your fate. Doomed by the very man you loved. The man who had charmed you and pulled the rug out beneath your feet. The man who had shielded you from the bombs he himself had set, distracting you with promises of loyalty and extravagant gifts. While the rest of the world had raged on, he had blinded you to reality, and now you were his. The man you were to be wed to for all of eternity.

Zhongli 血红血红血红血红血红血红

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x female reader #zhongli fanfiction #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere zhongli #genshin angst #tw: yandere #tw: violence #I meant to make this full-on angst but then it devolved into a dark fic #I'm so sorry to all my soft readers #he was supposed to run off with your assets and break your heart #but i couldn't do something that mid for the geo daddy #so i had to go all out and it became a horror fanfic instead #there might be inaccuracies in the time period #then again i didn't specify a time period so you can't flame me for messing something up #also idk why y/n didn't hear the gunshots let's pretend she was so wrapped up in Zhongli she ignored the sound #too tired to write the gunshots into the story #it ruins the atmosphere #please come home Zhongli

[submissivegayfrenchboy]

29 / 11 / 2022

🇬🇧🇺🇸 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇬🇧🇺🇸

PERSONAL FICTIONAL STORY

HUMILIATED BY A CELEBRITY #40 :

NEYMAR, professional football player (1992)

Special guest-star : DRAKE, Canadian singer

Dear readers, this is already the 40th story in the series HUMILIATED BY A CELEBRITY 😁 !!!!!!! I wouldn't have continued if you hadn't been there, so please always be so many to like, reblog and comment on my stories so that I feel supported. I've written about many famous alpha males, whether gay or straight, black or white, French, English, American or otherwise. Whether they are actors, singers, sportsmen....

For this fortieth, I had to mark the occasion with a very handsome and well-liked muscular man. Brazilian professional footballer Neymar is incredibly handsome, I would love to kiss him. I have no chance of doing it, but I made up this story in which a man - whose physical appearance and age is not specified so that everyone can imagine themselves in his place - will become tiny. The hero is going to get tiny, and this is one of the first times I've written about miniaturization. I hope that you will like.

And see you in at number 41 of this series, I hope that many of you will still love this series, because I have ideas for yet another ten episodes of this history series. 😁

THE SPORT PLAYERS, THE NEW KINGS #2

- KING NEYMAR AND HIS TINY SLAVE -

- CHAPTER 1 - AT NEYMAR'S SERVICE -

Captain of the Brazil national football team, Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior, said Neymar Jr., more commonly known as Neymar, was a king in the eyes of his fans. Time after time, he had started to behave like one. His luxurious lifestyle reflected his taste for celebration and debauchery. As a player of the Paris-Saint-Germain (PSG) team, he was approached by luxury brands to be a model. As a professional footballer, his talent impressed his competitors. Arrogant and superficial, he was also funny and kind to the people he loved.

Neymar, this handsome Brazilian player, had a personal assistant. This one had been in the service of the star for a short time. The previous one had left for an unknown reason. Neymar therefore needed a new personal secretary, someone to manage his social networks and his appointments.

The new man chosen was called Elio, a young Parisian so happy to be behind the scenes at the club in his city. His knowledge of English allowed him to travel with Neymar on his professional and personal trips. His tasks were fairly standard: managing his boss's calls and appointments. Satisfied with his particular assistant's submission, Neymar gave Elio more specific orders, such as carrying his luggage, serving drinks at his parties, and washing his clothes.

But the worst was to come.

One day, Neymar was on his big bed looking at several dozen shoes he had put on the blanket. It was just part of his large shoe collection. There were over 1000! Anyway, he looked at Elio with a smile.

NEYMAR: "Little Elio, I made you come to my room because I didn't know which pair of shoes to put on, so I tried them all. But now they're mixed up, so you're going to put them away in pairs. But to put them back together, my shoes will have to be licked! Yes, Elio, you will lick my shoes to put them back in pairs! Consider yourself lucky that I don't leave you a specific time, but if you take too long to lick them and put them back in pairs, I will have to punish you! Ahahah!"

Then Neymar put two socks over Elio's eyes and around his head to prevent him from seeing. According to his boss's will, his tongue would be his only way to find his boss's pairs of shoes and put them back together in pairs. Elio started licking the shoes, and the bright colors didn't help him given his blindness. He could use different textures, softer or rougher fabrics. The soles had different patterns, not counting those that had heels or studs. Neymar was amused to see Elio licking his shoes.

When Elio licked one shoe, he licked another until he found the one that looked like the one he licked first. He had to show memorization and speed, but his tongue hurt from licking everything. Neymar was spitting in his mouth so that he had saliva.

It lasted more than an hour and Neymar enjoyed this spectacle of submission.

NEYMAR: "It took you an hour to find my shoes and put them in pairs, I expect you to do it faster next time! It's with your tongue that my shoes will be cleaned from now on. both outside and inside! Now put them away, my little Elio!"

Some time later, Neymar forces his personal assistant to massage his feet. His long, hot, sweaty feet are even more tired after his practices or matches. Accustomed to directing others, to walking, jumping, running,... Neymar likes having his feet massaged. Neymar's height 41 (8.5 US) feet are impressive and Elio is quickly getting used to serving his master. But this one quickly tires of the obedience of his slave.

-

- CHAPTER 2 - THE TRANSFORMATION -

During a trip to Brazil where he is with the national football team, he enjoys a guided visit to an ancient temple of a pre-Columbian civilization. He is particularly intrigued by a book of spells. He asks the temple guide the meaning of a page where a normal-sized man can be seen becoming tiny. The guide explains that the page of the grimoire shown to her by Neymar represents a spell that reduces the size of a human to the point that they become tiny.

Neymar takes advantage of the guide moving away to take a picture of the page, goes to a site to translate the ancient Brazilian language, and realizes that the ingredients for creating the spell are all in Brazil. Neymar finds his personal assistant, who is carrying his jacket and his bag and had waited for him quietly outside the temple.

Neymar sends him to buy the ingredients he needs to create the miniaturization spell, without specifying the reason for these purchases. Elio does all the shopping possible to find the precious ingredients.

Returning to Neymar's villa, Elio brings him the ingredients and Neymar sends him to lick his shoes to occupy him. Obediently, Elio goes to his boss's shoe cabinet to lick them. Neymar takes the opportunity to prepare the spell. He mixes herbs, flowers and spices, boils the mixture in hot water and then lets it cool.

Once the potion is ready, the color red makes you thirsty, so Neymar pours red fruit juice into another glass to trick Elio into thinking it's the same drink. Then he takes the glasses and goes to his room where he sees this pathetic little Parisian licking the soles of his shoes.

NEYMAR: "How many have you already licked?"

ELIO: "40 pairs, sir."

NEYMAR: "40 pairs?! That means you just licked 80 shoe soles!! Ahahah ha!!!! Well, I served you a red fruit juice, drink it with me."

ELIO: "Thank you sir."

To Neymar's satisfaction, Elio drinks the shrinking potion!

Elio was very small, he was only 35 cm tall and he was under his clothes, which had become too big for him. Neymar took it in his hand and lifted it in front of him. Elio was very small and screamed when he found himself face to face with Neymar.

ELIO: "Boss, how did you become a giant?"

NEYMAR: "It's not me who's giant, it's you who's tiny! And now it's time for me to relieve myself."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!

A powerful burp almost took Elio's head off! The stench had gone straight to his face.

NEYMAR: "Ahahahahahahahah!!!!! Your face when my burp surprised you!!! Ahahahahahah!!!! Well, glad to have known you but now I'm going to eat you!"

Neymar opened his mouth and was about to drop Elio into his mouth to eat him alive, but he was struggling.

ELIO: "Please, boss, don't eat me alive!!!! I don't know what I did to make you turn me tiny, but I would do anything to stay alive!!!!"

NEYMAR: "Very well from now on you are mine! My feet sweat a lot so you will absorb the sweat from my feet."

Reluctantly, Elio had no choice but to be put against the sole of his former boss's right foot, who then slipped a sock over it. Elio was now glued to Neymar's right foot warm in his sock. Then the Brazilian footballer put his shoes on, and Elio was even tighter against the sole of his foot.

Throughout Neymar's football training, Elio was swallowing liters of sweat from his master's foot. He was a little under the size of his master's foot so all the sweat went straight into his mouth. The worst part was less the smell or taste of foot sweat than Neymar's weight on him because, despite the softness of the sock, Elio was crushed by Neymar. He was running, jumping and kicking the ball hard, which really hurt Elio.

When the training was over, Neymar did not take off his socks directly and waited until he was at home to order his tiny slave, who was completely naked, to massage his feet with his small hands, to lick the other foot in which he had not been. Despite his tiny size, Elio properly licked his master's feet and his tiny tongue passionately licked the sweat and dirt left by the socks. At night, Neymar made Elio sleep in his dirty sock.

The days passed like this for Elio: after a night's sleep in his master's dirty sock, he spent the day in his foot, a different foot each day. His new size had changed his eating habits: sweat from his feet and dirt was enough to be fit.

Neymar had fun with his tiny slave and enjoyed watching him lick his big feet.

-

- CHAPTER 3 - NEYMAR, KING OF BRAZIL -

One day, Neymar was invited to a star party, and he met the Canadian singer Drake, of whom he was a fan. The singer and actor Drake is a giant of 1 m 93, a manly bearded man very cuddly but very dominant. He put his muscular arm around the handsome Neymar's neck.

DRAKE: "Hey Neymar! It's ok, man! By the way, tell me, where did your servant go? the one who often walks behind you like a dog!"

NEYMAR: "Why Drake, do you want to fuck him?"

DRAKE: "No, I already have slaves for that, and I can have anyone I want. But you told me he's good at cleaning shoes and feet. I thought you could have let me use it a bit, Neymar"

NEYMAR : "Yes, but he's not here."

DRAKE: "So where is he?"

NEYMAR: "In my foot. Come on, I'll show you."

The great Canadian singer and the beautiful Brazilian footballer went to a discreet room, where Neymar took off his shoe and his sock in order to show his tiny slave to Drake. Far from having compassion for the fate of the tiny slave, Drake burst out laughing!

DRAKE: "You mean to tell me that pathetic slave is stuck in your shoe during the day and in your sock at night?! Ahhahah, what a loser! I'm sure a lot of little white guys must be dreaming of being in my foot!"

NEYMAR : "Okay, I'll sell you the spell in exchange for your financial help for a political pyojet that I'm carrying. You won't have to donate a lot or do it officially, but I need the money. Of course. I am very rich but I would need money to spare in case my project fails, or even if it succeeds."

DRAKE: "I'm so rich I don't mind buying you this spell. The prospect of turning little white guys into footlickers excites me. What's your plan?"

NEYMAR: "Oh not much.... Just the restoration of the monarchy in Brazil. The last Emperor of Brazil was Peter II. He was deposed in 1889, and since then Brazil has certainly succeeded in becoming an influential country but it is plagued by lobbies and we must be more proactive in favor of ecology. I despite myself gave the image of a man who did not care about ecological problems, but I must help my country not only by being captain of the Brazil national football team!"

DRAKE: "If helping you become the new King of Brazil is the price to pay to get the shrinking potion recipe then I'll be happy to do it!"

To celebrate this alliance Neymar forced Elio to lick Drake's enormous feet, and seeing a tiny one trying to suck his toes confirmed Drake's desire for a tiny foot licker. He figured he could use it to lick other parts of his body.

Several months passed and, thanks to the financing of the sublime Canadian singer Drake and his own money, Neymar had made an electoral campaign to become the new King of Brazil. Supported by environmental activists and lovers of social justice, Neymar had succeeded in being elected King of Brazil. He was the first ruler since the ill-fated Peter II, who died in exile in France two years after his dismissal in 1889. Elio had lived through this election campaign stuck in his master's foot, in a different foot each day.

With Neymar's accession to the throne of Portugal, Drake had obtained the recipe for the shrinking spell from the former captain of the Brazil national football team. So it's with an Asian boy in his left foot, a White boy in his right foot, a White boy stuck in his left armpit, a Black boy in his right armpit, and a cute White woman in his ass. Three of them had been miniaturized against their will, but the other two had been shrunk on purpose in order to worship Drake and his sublime body.

It was therefore with his tiny slaves under him that Drake attended the coronation of Neymar as King of Brazil and founder of the Neymar Dynasty.

At this event, Neymar wore a coronation coat representing his country, Brazil, and the city with which he achieved success: the long, thick fur coat was embroidered with the emblem of PSG and the flag of Brazil. It was with this outfit that he had himself represented on a huge royal painting.

Every day, King Neymar I of Brazil received subjects who came to thank him for his action in favor of the people, but he continued to play in the national team of Brazil. On his throne, he wore his sublime crown and had his feet massaged by his tiny slave. For his devotion, Elio received the honor of licking the body, the muscular and sweating torso of his King.

Life was good for Neymar, who was improving the lives of his people, and it was good too for Elio, who had nothing to do but lick the King's feet, even if that also meant being crushed. under his feet or in his armpits. Long live King Neymar of Brazil!

END OF THE STORY

⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

🇨🇵 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇨🇵

HISTOIRE FICTIVE PERSONNELLE

HUMILIÉ PAR UNE CÉLÉBRITÉ #40 :

NEYMAR, footballeur professionnel (1992)

Apparition spéciale : DRAKE, chanteur

Chers lecteurs, c'est déjà la 40ème histoire de la série HUMILIÉ PAR UNE CÉLÉBRITÉ!!!!!!! Je n'aurais pas continué si vous n'aviez pas été là, alors s'il vous plaît soyez toujours aussi nombreux à liker, rebloguer et commenter mes histoires afin que je me sente soutenu.

J'ai écrit sur de nombreux mâles alphas célèbres, qu'ils soient gay ou hétéros, Noirs ou Blancs, Français, Anglais, Américains ou autre. Qu'ils soient acteurs, chanteurs, sportifs....

Pour cette quarantième, je devais marquer le coup avec un homme musclé très beau et très apprécié. Le footballeur professionnel brésilien Neymar est d'une incroyable beauté, j'aimerais énormément l'embrasser. Je n'ai aucune chance de le faire, mais j'ai inventé cette histoire dans laquelle un homme va être miniaturisé.

L'apparence physique et l'âge du héros n'est pas précisé afin que chacun puisse s'imaginer à sa place. Celui-ci va devenir minuscule, et c'est l'une des premières fois que j'écris sur la miniaturisation. J'espère que vous aimerez.

Et rendez-vous dans au numéro 41 de cette série, j'espère que vous serez toujours aussi nombreux à aimer cette série, car j'ai des idées pour encore une autre dizaine d'épisodes de cette série d'histoire. 😁

LES SPORTIFS, LES NOUVEAUX ROIS #2

- NEYMAR ET SON ESCLAVE MINUSCULE -

- CHAPITRE 1 - AU SERVICE DE NEYMAR -

Capitaine de l'équipe nationale de football du Brésil, Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior, dit Neymar Jr., plus couramment appellé Neymar, était un roi aux yeux de ses fans. À force, il avait commencé à se comporter comme tel. Son train de vie luxueux reflétait son goût de la fête et de la débauche.

En tant que joueur de l'Équipe du Paris-Saint-Germain (PSG), il était approché par des marques de luxe pour être mannequin. En tant que footballeur professionnel, son talent impressionnait ses concurrents. Arrogant et superficiel, il était aussi drôle et gentil avec les gens qu'il aime.

Neymar, ce beau joueur brésilien, avait un assistant personnel. Celui-ci était au service de la star depuis peu de temps. Le précédent était parti pour une raison inconnu. Neymar avait donc besoin d'un nouveau secrétaire personnel, quelqu'un pour gérer ses réseaux sociaux et ses rendez-vous.

Le nouvel homme choisi s'appelait Elio, un jeune Parisien si heureux d'être dans les coulisses du club de sa ville. Sa connaissance de l'anglais lui permit de partir en voyage avec Neymar dans ses déplacements professionnels et personnels. Ses tâches étaient assez classiques : gérer les appels et les rendez-vous de son patron. Satisfait de la soumission de son assistant particulier, Neymar donna des ordres plus précis à Elio, tels que porter ses bagages, servir des boissons lors de ses soirées, et laver ses vêtements.

Mais le pire allait venir.

Un jour, Neymar était sur son grand lit et regardait plusieurs dizaines de chaussures qu'il avait posé sur la couverture. Ce n'était qu'une partie de sa grande collection de chaussures. Il en avait plus de 1000 ! Quoiqu'il en soit, il le regarda avec un sourire.

NEYMAR : "Bon Elio je t'ai fait venir dans ma chambre car je savais pas quelle paire de chaussures mettre alors je les ai toutes essayées. Mais maintenant elles sont mélangées, alors tu vas les ranger par paires. Mais pour les reconstituer par paires, mes chaussures devront être léchées ! Oui, Elio, tu vas lécher mes chaussures pour refaire les paires ! Estime toi heureux que je ne te laisse pas un temps précis, mais si tu prends trop de temps pour les lécher et les remettre par paires, je serai obligé de te punir ! Ahahah !"

Puis Neymar mit deux chaussettes sur les yeux et autour de la tête d'Elio afin de l'empêcher de voir. Selon la volonté de son patron, sa langue serait son seul moyen pour trouver les paires de chaussures de son patron et les reconstituer par paires.

Elio se mit à lécher les chaussures, et les couleurs vives ne lui étaient d'aucune aide étant donné son aveuglement. Il pouvait s'aider des textures différentes, des tissus plus doux ou plus rugueux. Les semelles avaient des motifs différents, sans compter celles qui avaient des talons ou des crampons. Neymar s'amusait de voir Elio lécher ses chaussures.

Quand Elio avait lèché une chaussure, il en léchait d'autre jusqu'à ce qu'il trouve celle qui était ressemblante à celle qu'il avait lèché en premier. Il devait faire preuve de mémorisation et de rapidité, mais il avait mal à la langue à force de tout lécher. Neymar lui crachait dans la bouche pour qu'il ait de la salive. Cela dura plus d'une heure et Neymar apprécia ce spectacle de soumission.

NEYMAR : "Tu as mis une heure pour retrouver mes chaussures et les mettre par paire, j'attends de toi que tu fasses plus vite la prochaine fois ! C'est avec ta langue que seront nettoyés mes chaussures à partir de maintenant, l'extérieur comme l'intérieur ! Maintenant vas les ranger, mon petit Elio !"

Quelques temps plus tard, Neymar oblige son assistant personnel à lui masser les pieds. Ses longs pieds chauds et suants sont encore plus fatigués après ses entraînements ou ses matchs. Habitué à diriger les autres, à marcher, sauter, courir,..., Neymar aime qu'on lui masse les pieds. Les pieds de taille 41 (8.5 US) de Neymar sont impressionnants et Elio s'habitue rapidement à servir son maître. Mais celui-ci se lasse vite de l'obéissance de son esclave.

-

- CHAPITRE 2 - LA TRANSFORMATION -

Lors d'un voyage au Brésil où il est avec l'équipe de foot nationale, il profite d'une visite guidée dans un ancien temple d'une civilisation précolombienne. Il est particulièrement intrigué par un livre de sortilèges. Il demande au guide du temple la signification d'une page où l'on peut voir un homme de taille normale devenir minuscule. La guide explique que la page du grimoire que lui montre Neymar représente un sortilège qui réduit la taille d'un humain au point qu'ils deviennent minuscules.

Neymar profite que la guide s'éloigne pour prendre en photo la page, se rend sur un site permettant de traduire l'ancienne langue brésilienne, et se rend compte que les ingrédients permettant la création du sortilège se trouvent tous au Brésil.

Neymar retrouve son assistant personnel, qui porte sa veste et son sac et l'avait attendu sagement à l'extérieur du temple.

Neymar l'envoie lui acheter les ingrédients qu'il a besoin pour créer le sortilège de miniaturisation, sans préciser la raison de ces achats.

Elio fait tout les magasins possibles pour trouver les précieux ingrédients. Revenu à la villa de Neymar, Elio lui apporte les ingrédients et Neymar l'envoie lécher ses chaussures pour l'occuper.

Obéissant, Elio se rend dans l'armoire aux chaussures de son patron pour les lécher. Neymar en profite pour préparer le sortilège. Il mélange les herbes, les fleurs et les épices, fait bouillir le mélange dans de l'eau chaude et laisse ensuite refroidir.

Une fois la potion prête, la couleur rouge donne soif, alors Neymar se sert de jus de fruits rouges dans un autre verre afin de faire croire à Elio que c'est la même boisson. Puis il prend les verres et se rend dans sa chambre où il voit ce pathétique petit parisien en train de lécher les semelles de ses chaussures.

NEYMAR : "Tu en as déjà lèché combien ?"

ELIO : "40 paires, monsieur."

NEYMAR : "40 paires ?! Ça veut dire que tu viens de lécher 80 semelles de chaussures!! Ahahah ha !!!! Bon bah je t'ai servis un jus de fruits rouges, bois le avec moi."

ELIO : "Merci Monsieur."

À la satisfaction de Neymar, Elio boit la potion de rétrécissement !

Elio était tout petit, il ne mesurait plus que 35 cm et il était sous ses vêtements, devenus trop grands pour lui.

Neymar l'a prit dans sa main et la soulevé devant lui. Elio était tout petit et cria lorsqu'il se retrouva face au visage de Neymar.

ELIO : "Patron, comment êtes-vous devenu un géant ?"

NEYMAR : "Ce n'est pas moi qui suis géant, c'est toi qui est minuscule ! Et maintenant il est temps pour moi de me soulager."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT !!!!!!!!

Un rot puissant faillit décoller la tête d'Elio ! La puanteur était allé directement sur son visage.

NEYMAR : "Ahahahahahahahah!!!!! Ta tête quand mon rot t'as surpris !!! Ahahahahahah !!!! Bon, ravi de t'avoir connu mais maintenant je vais te manger!"

Neymar ouvrit sa bouche et s'apprêtait à lâcher Elio dans sa bouche pour le manger vivant, mais celui-ci se débattait.

ELIO: "Pitié, patron, ne me mangez pas vivant !!!! Je ne sais pas ce que j'ai fait pour que vous me transformiez en minuscule, mais je ferais tout pour rester vivant !!!!"

NEYMAR : "Très bien à partir de maintenant tu es à moi ! Je sue beaucoup des pieds alors tu vas absorber la sueur de mes pieds."

À contrecœur, Elio n'eut pas d'autre choix que celui d'être mis contre la semelle du pied droit de son ancien patron, qui enfila ensuite une chaussette par-dessus.

Elio était désormais collé au pied droit de Neymar au chaud dans sa chaussette. Puis le footballeur brésilien a mit ses chaussures, et Elio était encore plus serré contre la semelle du pied.

Tout au long de l'entraînement de football de Neymar, Elio avalait les litres de sueur de pied de son maître. Il faisait un peu moins de la taille du pied de son maître donc toute la sueur allait directement dans sa bouche. Le pire c'était moins l'odeur ou le goût de la sueur du pied que le poid de Neymar sur lui car, malgré la douceur de la chausette, Elio était écrasé par Neymar. Celui-ci courait, sautait et donnait de grands coups de pied dans le ballon, ce qui avait pour conséquence de vraiment faire souffrir Elio.

Lorsque l'entraînement fut terminé, Neymar ne retira pas ses chausettes directement et attendit d'être chez lui pour ordonner à son esclave minuscule, qui était tout nu, de lui masser les pieds avec ses petites mains, de lécher l'autre pied dans lequel il n'avait pas été.

Malgré sa taille toute petite, Elio a convenablement lèché les pieds de son maître et sa langue minuscule léchait avec passion la sueur et la saleté laissée par les chausettes.

La nuit, Neymar fit dormir Elio dans sa chausette sale.

Les jours se passaient ainsi pour Elio : après une nuit de sommeil dans une chausette sale de son maître, il passait la journée dans son pied, un pied différent par jour. Sa nouvelle taille avait changé ses habitudes alimentaires : de la sueur de pieds et de la saleté suffisait à être en forme.

Neymar s'amusait avec son esclave minuscule et aimait le voir lécher ses grands pieds.

-

CHAPITRE 3 - NEYMAR, LE ROI DU BRÉSIL

Un jour, Neymar fut invité à une soirée de stars, et il retrouva le chanteur canadien Drake dont il était fan.

Le chanteur et acteur Drake est un géant d'1 m 93, un barbu viril très câlin mais très dominant. Il passa son bras musclé autour du cou du beau Neymar.

DRAKE : "Hey Neymar ! Ça va, mec ! Au fait dis-moi, où est donc passé ton petit larbin qui traîne souvent derrière toi tel un chien ?!"

NEYMAR : "Pourquoi Drake, t'as envie de le baiser ?"

DRAKE : "Non j'ai déjà des esclaves pour ça, et je peut avoir n'importe qui que je veut. Mais tu m'avais dit qu'il est doué en nettoyage de chaussures et de pieds. Ça te dérangerait de me le prêter ?"

NEYMAR : "Oui, mais il n'est pas ici."

DRAKE : "Alors où est-il ?"

NEYMAR : "Dans mon pied. Viens je vais te montrer."

Le grand chanteur canadien et le beau footballeur brésilien se sont rendu dans une pièce discrète, où Neymar retira sa chaussure et sa chausette afin de montrer son esclave minuscule à Drake. Loin d'avoir de la compassion pour le destin de l'esclave minuscule, Drake explosa de rire !

DRAKE : "Tu veut me dire que ce minable esclave est coincé dans ta chaussure la journée et dans ta chaussette la nuit ?! Ahhahah, quel loser ! Je suis sûr que pleins de petits mecs Blancs doivent rêver d'être dans mon pied !"

NEYMAR : "D'accord, je te vendrai le sortilège en échange de ton aide financière pour un pyojet politique que je porte. Tu seras as obligé de donner beaucoup ni de le faire officiellement, mais j'ai besoin d'argent. Bien sûr je suis très riche mais j'aurais besoin d'argent de côté au cas où mon projet échoue, ou même s'il réussit."

DRAKE : "Je suis si riche que ça me dérange pas de t'acheter ce sortilège. La perspective de transformer des petits gars Blancs en lécheurs de pieds m'excite. Quel est ton projet ?"

NEYMAR : "Oh pas grand chose.... Simplement le rétablissement de la monarchie au Brésil. Le dernier Empereur du Brésil était Pierre II. Il a été destitué en 1889, et depuis le Brésil a certes réussi à devenir un pays influent mais il est gangrèné par des lobbies et nous devons nous montrer plus proactif en faveur de l'écologie. J'ai malgré moi donné l'image d'un homme qui se fichait des problèmes écologiques, mais je dois aider mon pays pas uniquement en étant capitaine de l'équipe nationale de football du Brésil!"

DRAKE :" Si t'aider à devenir le nouveau Roi du Brésil est le prix à payer pour obtenir la recette de la potion de rétrécissement alors je serai heureux de le faire !"

Pour fêter cette alliance Neymar obligea Elio à lécher les énormes pieds de Drake, et voir un minuscule tenter de sucer ses orteils conforta Drake dans son envie d'avoir un minuscule lécheur de pieds. Il se disait qu'il pourrait l'utiliser pour lécher d'autres parties de son corps.

Plusieurs mois sont passés et, grâce au financement du sublime chanteur canadien Drake et de son propre argent, Neymar avait fait une campagne électorale pour devenir le nouveau Roi du Brésil. Soutenu par des militants écologistes et épris de justice social, Neymar avait réussi à être élu Roi du Brésil.

Il était le premier souverain depuis l'infortuné Pierre II, qui était mort en exil en France deux ans après sa destitution en 1889. Elio avait vécu cette campagne électorale coincé dans le pied de son maître, dans un pied différent chaque jour.

Avec l'accession de Neymar au trône du Portugal, Drake avait obtenu la recette du sortilège de rétrécissement de la part de l'ancien capitaine de l'équipe nationale de football du Brésil. C'est donc avec un garçon asiatique dans son pied gauche, un garçon blanc dans son pied droit, un garçon blanc collé à son aisselle gauche, un garçon noir dans son aisselle droite, et une jolie femme blanche dans son cul. Trois d'entre eux avaient été miniaturisés contre leur gré, mais les deux autres avaient été rétrécis de manière volontaire afin de vénérer Drake et son corps sublime.

C'est donc avec ses esclaves miniatures sous lui que Drake assista au couronnement de Neymar comme Roi du Brésil et fondateur de la Dynastie Neymar.

Neymar portait un manteau de sacre représentant son pays, le Brésil, et la ville avec laquelle il avait obtenu le succès : le long et épais manteau de fourrure était brodé avec l'emblème du PSG et le drapeau du Brésil. C'est avec cette tenue qu'il se fit représenter sur un immense tableau royal.

Chaque jour, le Roi Neymar Ier du Brésil recevait des sujets qui venait le remercier son action en faveur du peuple, mais il continuait à jouer dans l'équipe nationale du Brésil.

Sur son trône, il portait sa sublime couronne et se faisait masser les pieds par son esclave minuscule. Pour son dévouement, Elio reçut l'honneur de lécher le corps, le torse musclé et suant de son Roi. La vie était belle pour Neymar, qui améliorait la vie de son peuple, et elle était belle aussi pour Elio, qui n'avait rien d'autre à faire que lécher les pieds du Roi, même si cela voulait dire aussi d'être écrasé sous ses pieds ou dans ses aisselles.

Vive le Roi Neymar du Brésil !

FIN DE L'HISTOIRE

🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽🇧🇷⚽

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@neymarjr-cf @neymarbrasil @neymaaah @neymarbrasil @neymarchrist @neymarrjunior @footballjock4life @alphamalesuperiority @tinygiant @giantxxx2 @giant-tiny-people @gianttinyboys @giantworshipper @tallmascsub @feetmakesmehard @bat-woodfeet-us @tidodore2 @innerpiratefun @lovefanfiction01 @rainykpoptravelcreator @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @awesomecrowdcontrol1 @drake8866 @drakenigga @tfstation @tfkinksterz

#Humilié par une célébrité #Humiliated by a celebrity #Footballer #Singer #Chanteur #Neymar #King #The sport players the new Kings #Roi #Drake #Canadian #Canada #Brasil #Paris #Tiny #Transformation #Feet #Pieds #Minuscule

[casualmovies]

Drag Me To Hell (2009)

Have you ever wanted to see what a story created by 10 year olds at recess would look like if it was produced with a $30Mil budget? Now imagine they were doing this immediately after getting caught with an "occult" book (aka something from Barnes and Noble's occult section) that they only managed to glimpse a few pages. And they're hyped up on too much sugar and no one can remember the character they've chosen to play.

If that sounds fun for you, boy do I have the movie to suggest to you!

Usually in horror characters who are supposed to be punished show a real reason for doing so. Even if they're just sort of an asshole and ignore blatant warnings. Or they pick up a book made of human skin and start reading aloud. Alternatively, they're just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Neither of those happen to our protagonist, Chrstine Brown.

When we meet Christine, she is trying to get a promotion at her job as a loan officer in a bank. Her manager tells her it comes down to her and Stu, the new guy. The mysogyny vibes are pretty strong from the outset, and she's a bit of a doormat, but trying her best. The manager tells her to take an early lunch so she can get him a sandwhich on her way back. Remember, she's a loan manager, not a secretary. Stu then walks in like he's got some power around there and says she should get him one, too. And she just does it. To which Stu demeans her after the fact, saying he asked for no mayo and acts like it's her fault (he'd never said no mayo). So it seems that the manager might and Stu might be in cahoots and they're just humoring the pretty girl who thinks she can hang with The Boys.

That's when we meet Sylvia Ganush. I can't recall if they the directly specify she's Romani, but they lean hard on the vague eastern european old woman tropes, making her out to be super gross. Doing stuff like putting her slimy dentures on Christine's desk. The reason Sylvia is there is to ask for an extension on her mortgage for the third time, using her poor health to tug on Christine's heart strings. Christine goes to her manager, trying to get the woman an extension despite her having used up two already. The manager tells her it's "her choice" and she has to be willing to make the difficult decisions.

You'd think this would be where Christine turns into a total bitch and gets mean with the woman. Something worthy of what happens to her. But instead she's as gentle as she can be while denying the woman the extension. She even tries to help the woman find alternative options. And the old woman completely loses it, making a scene and crawling on the floor, forcing Christine to call for security to have the woman removed from the bank.

And that's what does it. The old woman is on her knees, flanked by security, looking up and Christine she hisses "You shame me?!" So it wasn't the denial, it was the public embarassment of not being allowed to throw a fit in public.

The actual curse comes later when Christine is leaving work and Sylvia is waiting in her car. The fight is pretty ridiculous, but the real topper is Sylvia tearing a button off Christine's coat and issuing a curse involving "Lamia." Then she gives the button back.

With a name like Lamia, you'd expect some sort of snake creature, right? Cause that's what the Lamia is. A bad ass half snake half woman monster. A female demon sent by one woman after another? That'd be cool as hell. Plus an excuse for one of horror movies' favorite tropes: an excuse to show tits. Maybe we'd get some cool visuals of a giant snake creature slithering through the walls of Christine's house? Snakes pouring out of the faucet?

Wrong! Goats. According to movie lore "Lamia" is also known as "The Black Goat". Somehow inspired by Baphoment? At least that's what I saw when I was double checking my memory on what the Lamia was supposed to be and making sure there were no ties to goats I didn't understand.

The rest of the movie is borderline incomprehsible and meaningless. But one detail to know is that the curse is supposed to last for only 3 days before Lamia Goat Man physically drags the person to hell.

The manager at the bank keeps flip-flopping his personality. One moment he's in Christine's corner and the next he's treating her like crap. Not in a toxic abusive manager sort of way, unless they forgot to include any indication of how he behaved was meant to be misleading. At one point Christine gets a nosebleed so bad it turns into a fountain and ends up spraying the manager with blood. Then he acts like it was some party trick she could do and he was not a fan.

There's a short sub plot involving some big account that Christine landed for the bank, though it only exists as a vague file and people talking about it. Stu decides to take the file off Christine's desk and sneaks off to another bank and somehow gets them to take the account instead. Literally over night. I'm no banking expert, but when working with large clients for money management, I highly doubt you can just take a bunch of someone else's documents to a bank you don't work at and get them to take over an account that was still in the works. Without the sign off anyone actually involved.

Eventually, Christine finds out that if she gets someone else to take ownership of the button that gave her the curse, she can pass the curse on to them. She calls Stu to say "I know it was you" about taking the file to another bank. Stu shows up in a wild panic, practically sobbing and begging her not to tell. For some reason she decides to not give him the button and tells him to leave. Once again, there's no sign that he's doing it to manipulate her and it's the last we see of him. The following day, the manager calls Christine to say that Stu showed up at his house trying to pin the whole fiasco with the account on Christine. And the manager, who's treated Stu like his best pal and Christine like crap says "And ya know what, his story just didn't make sense. So I kept asking him questions so I knew it was him and not you."

Now, how did Christine know about giving the button to someone else? A psychic, of course. Complete with vague middle eastern mystic vibes. He's her guide and the one who tells her what's going on and who's after her.

She tries to give the button back to the old woman who cursed her. The woman's granddaughter (who's about Christine's age) is all cryptic saying she knows just who Christine is and that she's getting everything she deserves. Because being trapped in a capitalistic society and dealing with misogynistic bullshit is a crime worth being tortured and dragged to hell. Well, the old woman actually died. So Christine walks in on a wake for the woman and the house is full of boisterous people. They were supposed to be Romani, but I don't know the culture well enough to say whether they were accurately depicted.

Bummer the woman's dead, so she can't be given the button. Or can she? Because there's some tradition of gifting to the dead! And Christine decides to do it her own why by digging up the old woman's grave. Remember, this all takes place over the span of 3 days. In that time, the woman died, an elaborate wake was arranged and attended, a funeral was (presumably) arranged and held, and the woman was fully put in the ground. And Christine was able to find an unearth her grave in a matter of hours. The movie takes place in LA.

Way back at the beginning of the movie (during the lunch break with the sandwich buying) Christine stopped by to visit her boyfriend and give him some special coin she found because in theory he collects those. He puts it into a plain white envelope and it's basically forgotten about after that. But you see, this was Chekov's coin envelope! You know what is flat and round but otherwise nothing like a coin? A button. Which is also put into a white envelope for reasons I don't think anyone considered other than Plot Convenience.

There's a convenient mixup where a bunch of papers get dropped all over the floor of the car and chaos ensues. Then a wild scene of Christine fighting with the dead body of the old woman in a rapidly flooding grave. Never once is there any hesitation or checking to make sure it's the right envelope, or that there's even anything in the envelope. Just failing around in the rain with it and trying to give it to the old woman's dead body.

Surprise it was the coin all along. Revealed by the boyfriend in the final scene. It scares Christine so bad that she walks backwards of the platform edge onto the train tracks where the boyfriend gets to see the ground open up and swallow her into hell. The End.

I know Sam Raimi is supposed to worshiped or whatever, but stories like this is are why editors are necessary. It felt like they started with the initial concept of a young, well meaning woman being cursed by an evil old woman for reasons convenient to the old woman. It's a decent concept that could have served as commentary on boomers versus millennials. But they just kept tacking things on and had to come up with reasons it wouldn't work after the fact. And they couldn't decide of the old woman was supposed to be sympathetic or evil.

The story was generally presented as a serious horror movie, but the scenes with the old woman had the absurdity of the Evil Dead series. It felt like it started as a movie meant to be as serious and intense as something like The Collector, but asked a 12 year old for feedback and included every suggestion without question.

As for the initial motives that spark the curse, Sam Raimi apparently said "We just wanted to tell the story of a person who wants to be a good person but who makes a sinful choice out of greed, for their own benefit, and pays the price for it." But the choice Christine has to make is never portrayed as properly "sinful" or "greedy." Had she been mean to Sylvia our denied her outright without even trying, sure. To better portray Christine as sinful or greedy, only a few tweaks would need to be made. First, make Sylvia less gross. At least don't put her freaking dentures on Christine's desk. Have it be her very first request for an extension. A desperate last minute plea. The bank had refused to even speak to her until then and the deadline was end of business that day. Have Christine remember, on her own, that she was told to make tough choices to get the promotion. Then be at least harsh if not outright cruel in denying Sylvia the extension. Insult the woman somehow, then have her dragged out by security for a minor transgression rather than making a whole scene and terrifying Christine. Watch the video at the top of this post and tell me that Christine is the evil one.

Basically, Christine needed to be more of a bitch for the intended theme to work. Like, sure, she willingly killed her cat in an attempt to get rid of the curse, but she was getting desperate by that point.

Ultimately, the movie was tonally confused. There could have been some "you'll only get it if you're watching closely" moments, but the movie could have been littered with them on every frame and it wouldn't be enough to redeem the plot of this bizarre movie.

Seriously, who names something Lamia and makes it a goat demon? You could have had a bad ass snake lady!

#Drag Me To Hell #movie review #casual movie review #Youtube

[vaya-writes]

The get to know your character ask game with Slates cousin, the one who got Adalyn the book. ( I forgot her name.🫣 It started with an "r" I think?)

I might take this opportunity to answer all 10 questions since you didn't specify and i love to talk. So, here's a post getting to know Rin (or Rinley).

What's her go to drink order?

I haven't thought much about drinks in this setting to be honest. I don't know if cocktails have been invented and are widespread. You've obviously got things like wine and mead and beer. And because I'm not much of a drinker I can't share much based on Rin's preference for taste. But she does like expensive things, even if she's more than capable of 'slumming it'. I think she'd be inclined to order older wines if she's drinking with family and putting on appearances, but happy to drink mead when she's out among the populace.

2. What is her grooming routine?

When she's alone and in her own hoard/nest is the only time she truly gets to hit all the beats. She'll spend time in her largest form, mostly just stretching and exercising, ensuring her wings and muscles don't atrophy from lack of use. She doesn't get so spend much time in her first and second form due to (REDACTED). Hence why these aspects of care are only managed while she's home alone. She'll clean and scrub and buff her scales, test the membranes of her wings, shine, buff, and sharpen her horns, and clean her teeth. Her hair, skin, nails, and human teeth get plenty of attention when she's traveling. Her polymorphed form is so small and compact that it's easy enough to take care of. She enjoys learning new styles with which to use on her hair; she feels like it's one of the only aspects of her she's allowed to display proudly.

3. What are her most expensive purchases and where does her disposable income go?

She's a bit like Slate in that her hoard isn't specialised. She likes collecting generalised goods and luxuries. She does a lot of travel, more so than most dracanids, almost never feeling comfortable in her own home, pretty much only using her nest in the winter. So most of her money goes towards extravagant foods and lodging, as she likes feeling comfortable and trying out the local experiences wherever she goes. She will spend on clothing, beauty items and books especially. I imagine her most expensive purchases may have gone towards her nest. Think stained class windows, exquisite brickwork and carvings, gargoyles, whatever. I haven't put a lot of thought into her nest, TBH, as none of the story takes place there.

4. Any tattoos or scars?

Her human form has vitiligo, the bright red sort. She has a couple of scars on her other forms, and uses glamours to hide the scars on her human form. They're most noticeable on her largest form. These are from family infighting. It's implied that her father was physically abusive. While I haven't considered the details, I can tell you she comes from a violent and bloodthirsty family, and it's damn near miraculous that Rin's countenance doesn't reflect this. Her family definitely has a reputation and it's no wonder why she sticks to her human form.

5. The last time she cried.

She might have teared up during her mother's passing, or her mother's wedding. But the last ugly cry would have been when her mother took her away from her family. It was a traumatic experience. Her father did not take kindly to her mother attempting (and eventually managing) to flee their clan.

6. Are they an oldest, middle, or youngest child.

Rin had a handful of half siblings from the Red Clan. Three I think. I haven't put a lot of thought into it. I think she was the youngest, it makes sense that her mother would try to remove the youngest from the family. But Rin doesn't like to think back about her older siblings. When she hears passing news of them, it's never good, though some buried part of her still has hope that they'll be okay, that they'll change, that they might break the cycle.

Rin considers Slate to be a better sibling than her original ones, even if he's technically just her cousin in law. She enjoys lording her age over him and acting like a wise older sibling, even if she learns so many new things from just being in Slate's presence (things like patience, peace, forgiveness, kindness, compassion - all traits she was modeled should be shunned as she grew up).

7. Shoes.

God you're going to make me think about clothing and world building :'( I think Rin would go barefoot if she were allowed. She's long lived and desensitised to pain, I think she'd enjoy walking on stone and grass, and feeling things. It'd be a nice sensory experience for her. But during the times when she's expected to attend the Matron's court, she dresses up fancy. Sometimes heels and slippers. Things that are new to human and monster fashion, and pretty. She's pretty flexible with her fashion taste, looking to humans, and new trends, even if her timing is usually off and she doesn't understand what we tend to mix and match. She's fond of boots, heels, and sandals, due to their different looks. She's not often wearing something practical for her traveling though >:/

8. The place where they sleep.

We're going to look at Rin's nest for Winter. Because damn I'm committed to finishing this post. Even if I haven't thought about her home at all >;(

I think that as much as Rin hoards things, she doesn't actually decorate her bedroom much. Or rather, it's a bit understated. Her blankets are soft and pretty colours, as are the pillows and the rest of the bedding. But the walls are plain. The lighting is dim. She loves hoarding books and knowledge, but hardly ever reads in her room.

She has a large space dedicated to sleeping in her true form. Because if she's home alone, she might as well take advantage of the chance to stretch her wings. In her human form she likes soft fabrics and cushions and a downy mattress. In her largest form she's happy with a roof over her head, a fortified position, and a bit of a dug out area to sleep in. Softer stone is a bonus (talking sand, or gravel) for feeling, but Rin doesn't like cleaning it out of the rest of her quarters, so she usually goes without.

9. What is her favourite holiday.

I haven't thought much about holidays in the Drakon Empire. I think she enjoys attending small and local festivals, looking at the culture around her. Especially human culture. She likes seeing how humans have grown and lived past the Empire's original founders. She's not big on Imperial holidays, but practically nobody celebrates those anymore (old timey dragons do). She's filled with trepidation towards the celebrations the Grey Clan hold. It's nice to see her father in law, and her cousin. But she doesn't enjoy spending time with the rest of the family. Though it is a relief that their holidays (celebrating the Matron, or marriages, or coming of age ceremonies) are much more homely than the ones the Red Clan held dear.

10. What objects do they carry around with them.

Little known fact about Rin, is that she has a greater grasp of magic than the rest of Slate's family. She can get along fairly easily by her own wits. Still, when she's traveling for the purpose of looking at human culture, she'll often pack clothes specific to that area, and money. Or just money. Or jewellery, to sell if she's in a pinch. It DOES make her a greater target for robbery, but most people who try to rob Rin tend not to get very far in that. Anyway, she packs light.

-

Now I've gotta remember to add these details to her character notebook.

Thank you so much for the ask <3 Hope I didn't melt your brain with all this information. Thank you for the prompt! Some of these things I had to think hard about.

(I can't wait until people figure out the redacted details of this story)

#vaya writes #prompt #ask game #vaya replies #the wyvern's bride

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

1, 3, & 13 for oc asks!

1.) how would you describe the world your story takes place in?

Magical Girl Realism. It takes place in a small town along the Salish Sea, and it may or may not be the end times. Technology and fashion hover around the mid-90s.There's a bit of that shoujo nostalgia there and the world is more romantic and certainly more abloom than real life, but in true David Lynch fashion, it's also got this pervasive feeling of a half-remembered bad dream. Imagine if an entire town was a victorian greenhouse conservatory with fountains and shit.

3. answered!

13.) how long have you been working on this project? what has changed from the outset?

I made Sicely and Anthea at the tail end of 2017 and have appeared in other words (Damaged Goods, Questions For Dead People), but the first glimpses of Carousel Waltz were in June of 2021. Originally the story was more straightforward magical girl fantasy-- fight monsters, collect mcguffins-- and took place in a "real life unless otherwise specified" Seattle, WA. Jiro and Lucerne didn't exist yet, Opal and Ari were dance partners, Araceli was the main antagonist, and Midas was a posthumous character. Bit clunky, a bit too big. There are more characters now but the plot itself is a lot tighter and a lot less about hitting arbitrary goals. Originally it was going to feature these places called the Kingdoms of Life, which would be like, madoka-style witch lairs based off of the six forms of life on earth.

also, opal was stupider, and not in a good way.

#thank u! #cecil drawls

[altruistic-meme]

i didnt realize you rb an ask game until i found out why: question 24 (which you can answer alxhskdhs)

but also i wanna know 5 and 7 :>

dlfhsdlhfsdfh it hid from you how rude

you didn't specify which fics for 5 and 24 so im gonna use (wit)jitp >:]

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

mmm i don't know that i have any SPECIFIC questions i wish people would ask, but i would love to be given the chance to go off about literally anything to do with Kevin and Nathaniel's relationship :') so lemme think if i can pinpoint one thing to make into a question......

OKAY SO after scrolling back through some of (wit)jitp (and dying over your comments again as i always do sdkfshkf) there's a moment in chapter 10 where Nathaniel calls Kevin "Kev" which is a new nickname that he hadn't used before. so the question is, "why does Nathaniel call Kevin "Kev"?"

my answer for that: so first, here this the exact passage where he uses the nickname!

Eyes narrowing as he turned towards Kevin, smile still in place, he swung his racquet by his side a few times before holding it out for him to take. “Hey Kev,” Nathaniel drawled, the words sickeningly sweet. “Would you mind getting me a lighter racquet?”

Nathaniel and Kevin actually have multiple nicknames they use for each other, just because it's something my siblings and i also do! though Nathaniel and Kevin's nicknames tend to be situation specific, while my siblings and i will rotate through nicknames relatively frequently. "Neil" and "Day" are grounding nicknames, and "Neil" is a more general nickname as well. but "Kev" specifically is one that Nathaniel uses mostly to fuck with Kevin! he says it "sickeningly sweet" because he's using it to be an annoying little shit. and Kevin knows this, which is why he basically rolls his eyes in response.

[ also side note: i very intentionally used the word "drawled" here bc for some reason i just imagine Nathaniel intentionally using a slight southern accent for this exchange, just to fuck with Kevin. idk why, really, maybe it's the way my family does it too when we're messing with each other lmao ]

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

can i just say all of (wit)jitp???? mostly cus i can't say which aspects specifically without spoiling things we haven't gotten to yet ksdhkshgd a lot of the worldbuilding for (wit)jitp has to do with Nathaniel and his past :') but i am so so happy with everything i have noted down about how things happened to result in the changes we have from canon!!!

just to be a tease tho, one of the things im hugely proud of is very slightly hinted at in the very first chapter, when Sidney comments on Nathaniel "failing to follow orders" regarding his mother, and Nathaniel telling her that he actually did follow his orders that day 👀

24. Are there any easter eggs in [insert fic], and if so, what are they?

tbh i don't think so?? tho i might be thinking of easter eggs wrong... there are a lot of things (see above) that i've hinted at throughout the fic that haven't yet come up, but aren't easter eggs more like... idk things from the outside that are pulled into the story? idk. i don't think there are sldfhshf aside from me pulling like,,, Ape Escape and The Morgue in as references to a conversation with my coworkers and a terrible movie my family watched once, respectively 😂

thank you for this beloved <3

[ fic writer asks ]

#GODS i need to work on chapter 11 of (wit)jitp i've spent so much time apart from it #alas #the yr brainrot has take over. it's a constant battle #i also just. need to reread aftg in it's entirety #anywho #this was fun thinking about my baby again <3 #askers #cozycrow #shh ac

[missnight0wl]

Hey, hope you're having a nice day! Something that's been bugging me ever since Year 6 is: didn't Harry and the others have the chance to attend an Apparition course during their 6th Year? Why have we not had this chance? Do you think we'll ever learn to Apparate? I mean, we can do wandless magic, which is technically more complicated than that, and Charlie and Tonks, in our same Year, learnt to Apparate at Hogwarts: I have no idea why we haven't yet.

Hello! I hope you’re having a nice day, too! :)

As for your question, I believe the answer is very simple: Jam City didn’t plan it correctly. Here’s what I’m thinking.

They will probably want to introduce Apparition through a TLSQ, just like it was with becoming a Prefect, our O.W.L.s etc. It just feels like a perfect subject for another time-limited adventure. And keeping this in mind, I assume that Jam City simply got lost in their own schedule. I imagine that by the time Y6 was being released, they already had different side stories prepared, and once they realised they should’ve included Apparition somewhere in there, it was a little too late. Another issue to consider here is also the fact that there are probably different teams working on the main story and the side quests, so… y’know, communication can be hard.

Because the thing is that Jam City is aware of this problem. For example, we talked about it with Jacob when we met with him after the Sunken Vault:

So, it seems like they actually always planned it for Y7. And technically, it could make sense as you’re not quite right about Harry’s sixth year. Yes, there is the Apparition course in the Half-Blood Prince indeed. However, Harry doesn’t attend it; only Hermione and Ron do. That’s because you have to be seventeen by the time of the exam, and I believe the exam is like… in April? Anyway, Hermione was born in September, so she’s almost a year older in general, and Ron was born in March, so again, he would be seventeen just in time.

Therefore… if Jam City always planned to place the Apparition course in Y7, it’d simply mean that MC was born between late April/May and August 31st, 1973, right? Well, maybe. Personally, I still think it’s more likely that Jam City messed up because:

they usually try pretty hard to not specify such things to leave them to the players and their interpretation (so you could decide on your own about your MC’s birthday),

there is no mention of the course during Y6 at all. If they really wanted to imply MC’s “canon” birthday in that way, they should’ve at least given us a scene where some of our friends talk about the course and MC is like: “Oh, I can’t wait to take the exam next year!”.

The best solution, though, would be to give some reason why the course didn’t take place in Y6 at all. It could even be connected to Rowan’s death, the Wizard in White etc. For example, one day, Dumbledore could announce that “because of all the danger at Hogwarts in the recent time, it was decided that the Apparition exams won’t take place this year as it could be abused by wrong people. All students who are authorized to take the exam this year will have to wait until the next one”. It’s still a bit of a stretch, but at least it’d remain unclear whether or not MC was seventeen by April of their sixth year.

#hp series #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #apparition #jam city #ask #wannabeeliana

[jerzwriter]

🌱🐸 for of your OCs you so please 😊

Hey Nonny! Thanks so much for the ask! :) Since you didn't specify which OCs I'll do my best to answer for all where I feel they're appropriate. From this list.

🌱 - Share one of this OC’s early memories.

I just answered this for Astrid, my VoS MC, here.

Casey was a city girl growing up in Philadelphia. She loved growing up in the city and still prefers city life to this day. But each summer, she'd spend some time at her paternal grandparent's farm in rural Pennsylvania. It was a different world. From the time she was a toddler, she'd help her grandparents with their chores; she could milk a cow by the time she was five. She has lovely memories of this simple, peaceful life and being surrounded by beauty. But it's a place she liked to visit and did not want to stay. :)

Tobias: His best childhood memories were also at his grandparent's home, in this case, his maternal grandparents. He spent a lot of time there, and he wasn't a spoiled little boy there; he was just one of the many grandkids who were expected to be kind to one another and help out. They were spoiled, too, but with love and their grandma's home cooking. One of his favorite memories, playing stickball in the street at night while the old folks sat on the porches talking and cheering them on.

Ethan: His best early childhood memories were the summer trips he used to take to the New England seashore with his parents. They didn't always go the same places, but two frequent locations were Newport, Rhode Island and Mystic, Connecticut. He loves visiting there until this day.

Kaycee: Their family didn't have a lot of money while she was little, something only made worse when her mother became ill. So there wasn't much shopping, but she used to get big bags of hand-me-down clothes from her older cousins, and she loved going through them on the living room floor and picking out "new" clothes.

Trystan: Trystan's best childhood memories were reserved for time spent with his Nannies, who were more loving than his parents, or with his siblings - usually when they would sneak off and get into mischief - these were times when they were able to just be little kids and not have to be little royals.

Carolina: Attending the Puerto Rican Day parade in Manhattan with her family and then returning home to the Bronx, where the party continued in the form of a huge block party. It was something the children (and adults) looked forward to all year, not unlike Christmas. There was always great food, music, and dancing, and the party went on to the wee hours - even for the kids.

Eli: Pre-outbreak? Playing sports with his friends and visiting with his grandparents and cousins. Post-outbreak? Family nights spent around the fire, as they were locked safely (as safely as could be) in their cabin in the woods.

Zoe: She has very few pre-outbreak memories, and The Tower wasn't such a great place to grow up. But her best memories were nights she, Ana, and Troy would quietly sneak away and have sleepovers. They just talked, made up silly stories, nothing terribly special, yet it was super special to her all the same.

🐸 - What’s this OC’s sense of humor like?

Casey: She has a playful and sarcastic sense of humor. She loves making people laugh, and humor is a big part of her relationship with Tobias.

Tobias: He has a wicked sense of humor - as you can imagine, it's sarcastic and perverted - he is known to be a wise ass. He and Casey both infuse humor into their daily lives and their relationships with their girls.

Ethan: He has a dry/sarcastic sense of humor that not everyone gets, but those who do find it hysterical. During his med school days, he and Tobias just bounced off each other - and that continued when they reinstated their friendship as adults.

Kaycee: Much like Casey's (above) but a little goofier.

Eli: What sense of humor? lol Honestly, it's not something he shows often except for with those he's closest to, mostly Zoe. It's a dry/sarcastic/dark humor.

Zoe: For the world they live in, Zoe is often a ray of sunshine. She tries to see the good in everything, and humor is a big coping mechanism for her. She can joke from the sweetest, most innocent things with the kids of Olympus to really raunch humor with the grown-ups. She makes people laugh and smile a lot.

Trystan: Sarcastic wiseassery, but in a lighthearted, cheeky way. It's more along the line of Tobias than Ethan or Eli. Humor is infused into his conversation, no matter the situation.

Carolina: Has a very New York sense of humor - dark, sarcastic, and 150% a coping mechanism born of trauma. It's not a bright and fun kind of humor, although she definitely finds that side of herself, too, thanks to Trystan.

Thanks so much for the asks, Nonny! :)

#open heart #tobias carrick #casey mactavish #ethan ramsey #kaycee macclennan #crimes of passion #trystan thorne #carolina rose #wake the dead #eli sipes #zoe rivera #oc asks #asks answered

[your-sweet-cookies]

🎲

The kiss roulette

Guess I do owe you a longer short story, my dear! X3 So, let's see what destiny will give you this time, hopefully a number that'll allow for a more fruitful scenario.

And your second lucky number is... 31!

A kiss to the inner thigh (Oh, this one really is going to be a 'fun' one! :> Destiny was extremely generous the second time around!)

(Also, tw: The following contains NSFW content)

For a very innocent and pure girl, Kukki sure had her moments in which she would be very 'naughty' and horny, but that was to be expected with a boyfriend as handsome and hot as hers. So it didn't come off as much of a surprise that she was always eager for their 'fun' times, especially after a long and boring day of classes and work that seemed endless and kept them separated for far longer than they would've liked.

And today seemed to be one of these days of being kept away for far too long from her beloved wild bobcat. Kukki was starting to get more and more frustrated by how slow the clock had been moving and for some unknown reason, the end of the day found her even hornier than usual for their reunion, so for tonight, since Niragi made the 'mistake' of telling her that he might run late because the current game project was falling behind schedule, she'd decided she wanted to have as much fun and enjoyment to the fullest while also 'punishing' him for letting her wait like that, and she was going to do that by putting into action one of her long time favorite fantasies.

So, after getting home, preparing herself for her sexy night by dressing in her hottest and sexiest lingerie she owned in her wardrobe and getting the bedroom ready, Kukki set to waiting patiently for Niragi to finally come back home and 'entertain' her. That didn't take too long, fortunately, and from one thing to another, Niragi ended up tied up to the bed with a nice fluffy pair of handcuffs (because she didn't want him to really get hurt because of her kinky fantasies), half naked and with Kukki all flustered and excited on top of him. He didn't really like playing the 'sub' role, but for this once, Niragi was gonna let it slide since he understood this was her way of getting back at him for prolonging the time spent separated on a day that already kind of bothered Kukki. Well, at least he got to enjoy the view on top of him provided by that lingerie that left almost nothing to the imagination.

"Ah, my beloved, you look soo good all submissive like that! Indeed, I was right that this fantasy is simply delicious!" Kukki licked her lips as she stared down at him. "Glad you enjoy it, wildcat, but don't get too used to it. You know that I'm the one who likes to be in control." Niragi retorted with a grin on his face, as he too ate her with his eyes. "I know, I know... But I can still make this one special time worthwhile for both of us! You'll see, being the sub has its perks too!~" Kukki winked at him and leant down for a sweet, passionate kiss.

In the process, she made sure that her body would rub sensually against his, stimulating all the right places, especially that very sensitive and hardened part of his body. After enjoying their very passionate kiss for a bit, Kukki then shifted her attention to his neck, covering it now in kisses and love bites that marked Niragi as hers. "Hmmm... Looks like you're really enjoying yourself tonight, wildcat..." Niragi groaned, as Kukki nibbled on the soft spot on his neck.

"And so are you my love, judging by what I'm feeling down there..." Kukki replied in a soft whisper, tickling his ear, followed by a slight sexy moan as she pressed herself down harder onto the specified area. "Can't and won't deny that either..." Niragi snorted, letting out a moan of his own. "But I assume you won't really hurry straight to the 'best part' now, are you?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at her amused, desire still undeniable in his darkened eyes. "Nope, I am totally going to take my time enjoying my 'little toy'.~" The young woman winked at him and continued her 'journey' down his clavicle, to her next destination: his strong and sublime chest and abdomen.

On this area, the silver-haired woman decided to move even slower, but in a very sensual and teasing manner, leaving more marks in her way, as she licked down the man's pecks, kissing and leaving a wet sexy trail along the way. All that while she made sure to never break for a moment the eye contact between them and as an added 'bonus', she also made sure to rub against his bulge from time to time, yielding delicious moans and groans out of her lover's mouth.

Finally reaching his abs and applying the same 'treatment' from before, her hands decided to join the game, by busying themselves with his belt and pants. But of course, even this activity was going to be done in a slow and calculated manner, meant to simply tease and drive him insane with lust even further. "Mmm... You are always so delicious my beloved! I can't wait to get to take a taste of the best part of tonight's 'meal'!~" Kukki let out another soft sigh as she sat back up on top of him, looking at Niragi with an almost salivating facial expression.

"Why don't you go on and serve yourself already, wildcat? I'm sure it's waiting as impatiently for you, as you are for it." Niragi smirked, being unable to not feel incredibly amused and satisfied that even now, when she was on top of him like that, Kukki still displayed her usual sub behavior, being all needy and horny for him like that, totally under 'his spell'. "Everything at its time, wild bobcat! Don't try to tempt me! I still have some things left up my sleeve for me to try out on you..." Kukki bit her lip yet again and this time tugged onto his belt a bit harder, pulling it open finally, followed by the buttons of his pants.

The pants didn't take long to leave Niragi's body, but to his twitching erection's disappointment, he was going to have to endure the tightness of his boxers a little bit longer, because Kukki was suddenly more interested in his upper legs, than her ready to go 'meal'. "Don't think I forgot about the fact that your thighs are one of your most erogenous areas, my love! So, because I am a good girl, I am going to make sure they get plenty of attention too." She commented in a very innocent, yet teasing tone as she guessed what he must've been thinking at the moment.

"You are really enjoying this a lot, aren't you?" Niragi smirked and snorted yet again, despite his slight impatience at her very slow 'process'. Kukki didn't answer right away, flashing him a sweet and playful smirk of her own, as she began slowly and sensually massaging his thighs, especially his inner thighs. And for the 'cherry on top', the woman's next move was to lean down and start placing soft and wet kisses on his inner thigh, all while still making sure to never break their eye contact. "You can't even imagine how much I am enjoying this!~" Her soft, sexy voice sent electrifying shivers down the man's spine, while Kukki enjoyed tremendously the sight of his bulge getting even harder thorough the material of his boxers. Indeed, she was in for a looong and very fun night, which she was going to definitely enjoy thoroughly and to the fullest!

#kiss roulette #alice in borderland rp #alice in borderland roleplay #aib rp #aib roleplay #aib oc #aib oc rp #kukki x niragi #niragixpsych #rp with kukki #tw nswf