#oliver / grant owns my heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sincerelyverena · 9 months

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⟡⁺ VAYA CON DIOS

. . . OLIVER QUICK X GN!READER ‘in a world so fake, i say your name praying. you are my angel and my saint.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒oliver and you form an unlikely bond over his hatred for the cattons and your thirst for revenge. but when you dance with the devil, you're bound to fall. for satan himself or something far more sinister...

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒implied sex ﹐major character death ﹐strangling (non-sexual) (sorry yall) ﹐ drowning

inspired by the pure energy of hot, smothering justice and betrayal kali uchis vaya con dios radiates. enjoy, my lovelies! also felix is so babygirl, y'all just don't like him in this.. ;]

Oliver Quick was your saving grace.

You were more willing to admit he was your soulmate. Oliver Quick. Meek, unsocial, glasses-wearing Oliver Quick. He took you by the hand — and the heart — guiding you into Oxford's inner circle. A place for you to unravel your sabotage and a root for Oliver to plant his destruction in. A place for your ascendancy to seep through the cracks and weave between the breaks.

More specifically, Felix Catton. The college's golden boy, the beloved playboy of Oxford, and why you were so dedicated to fitting in in the first place.

Felix Catton and the entire Catton name were the root of all your problems. They took every opportunity you could've been offered in their palms, tearing it to shreds, and pummelling it into dust. Without even realising it, they had sabotaged everything you could've known.

The limelight of one of the downtown bars you all had travelled to flickers upon Felix, the neon glow outlined every discreet detail he bore proudly on his face. The captured appeal in every crook and dent, to the extent that any flaw he may have possessed is gone and buried before anyone could've noticed.

Felix Catton had the school population wrapped around the slimness of his fingers. Hell, even the once hardened aquamarine of Oliver's eyes softened ever so slightly with every passing grin of Felix's mouth. Every clasp of his back. Every manipulative lie that he’d utter with a smirk pasted on his face. Every sickly-sweet word that sweetly left his lips.

But not you. Even after four rounds of whiskey martinis, you felt like the only sober person in the room. You knew Felix and his family for what he was.

Selfish, all-wanting, all-ruining rascals.

Your own family once had close-knit ties with the Cattons. Years before your mother was even impregnated. Your grandmother had whispered tales of summers at Saltburn as if it was a fairytale. Endless courtyards, wide, luxurious estate grounds. Wild parties. Even wilder sex. At a young age, you had grown a thirst for experiencing anything that remotely came close to the experiences bored into you time and time again. You needed to quench your cravings, but nothing came near.

Things may have been different if the Cattons sunk your parent's business. For good.

Even the most naive garnered a sense and even an adoration for gossip and rumours as soon as they'd step onto Saltburn grounds, reputation was adorned upon a gold-plated pedestal. The root of striking words and poison-tainted oaths is Lady Elspeth. A wheat-blonde-haired bitch that brought your family so much misery.

A couple of words that escaped the snake's mouth destroyed generations of work. A whole family business deteriorated into the dust, and she didn’t even bat an eye.

This series of unfortunate events resulted in your mother passing you onto your grandparents, fabulously wealthy (but not as wealthy) and luxurious in their own right.

They raised you under their family name. Esmeray.

This granted you easy access into the prestigious inner circles of Oxford, invited by Felix Catton himself. He had noticed you a few scarce times prior, typically on Oliver’s arm, Ollie, who took it upon himself to sneak you into various VIP parties for the cause. Any remotely attractive person is enough to catch Felix's eye, and lucky for you, you were drop-dead stunning.

That's why you weren't the least surprised when he extended an invitation to stay the summer at Saltburn. The next step is avenging the Marzena family name. For good this time.

Saltburn couldn’t have ever compared to the fairytales whispered in your ear during your childhood days. Those tales did it no justice compared to how stunning and profound the estate truly is.

The molten sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, and flecks of pure gold ascended throughout the gradually darkening sky. Pure summer drifted through the air, sending a warmth of contentment to settle in the pit of your belly. But your job here wasn't done. It was far from done.

The warmth in your belly reverberated through your shoulder as a firm hand clasped upon the brink of your silhouette.

"We're going to be late for dinner, sweetheart." Oliver's slow words reached your ears, his thumb gently tracing circles into the shining glimpse of skin that wasn't enwreathed by the inky, silk fabric you wore for the Catton’s strict dress codes.

Even though Oliver's hands were glacially cold — practically comparable to ice — the molten glow of his touch rolled throughout your frame pleasingly. This causes your lips to unfurl into a not-so-concealed smile. His words could engrave themselves into your mind, and he knew it as fact. "Come along now."

You tore your eyes away from the purely otherworldly scenery available at your will. In the minute or so that Oliver managed to garner from you, the radiant golden brinks of daytime were gradually drowned out by the raven shadows of nightfall.

"I think I’m in shock." The words escaped your lips with a half-suppressed laugh that reverberated lightly from your chest. Your mind raced to piece together the proper syllables necessary to describe the unfiltered beauty of Saltburn. “This is all so…”

"...unreal?"

Oliver finished your sentence for you in a matter of seconds, as if he plucked it out of your fluttered head. His hand shifted, arm rolled over the base of both of your bare, garmentless shoulders. Draped. Practically protectively he wordlessly guided you towards the door of your temporary suite. Temporary. For now, at least.

"Mmm… something like that." You quipped in turn, deciding with promptness to sink into the mere gentleness of his touch. The work of his hands alone arrowed straight to the pump of your heart and occasionally the heat of your core. These newly established sentiments that you’ve garnered for Oliver Quick had brought you a whirlwind of devotion to successfully come to fruition.

It wasn't an unacknowledged fact between the two of you that a spark had conquered itself, gradually. Every touch. Each glance. Every word that two of you had come to share. Oliver's intensity, his willingness to take you into his hands and never release you. And your revering homage, your tendency to treat him as if he were a god.

The Catton's were the most oblivious. Oblivious to their guest’s steadily swelling obsession. For each other and the downfall of their own, the destruction that played as a constant in their heads.

In order to play the part, you and Oliver separated from each other in front of the rest of the household to confide in both your constant alliance and devotion. You found sociability and acceptance in Farleigh and Venetia. Stingy, ego-brimming relatives to the Catton name. Oliver confided in Felix and even Elspeth, that as much as you disliked that fact. Alas, you weren't a stranger to the occasional lingering glance. The crinkle of Oliver's midwinter blue eyes, the tug of his sensually plump lips into a gradual, subtle smirk that occupied a lump in your throat. You drove him crazy the same. Or so you thought.

In the quietest hours of Saltburn, you found yourself curled up against Oliver’s silhouette. His godly arms inched around the frame of your torso, pulling you towards his strapping — and occasionally bare — chest. You often found yourself with your head buried in the crook of his neck. Inhaling the fragrances of honeydew and tangerine, the scent that virtually dripped off of Oliver’s altar of a body. A newfound pinkness tainted your cheeks.

"We live in a cruel world, don't we, darling?" Oliver proceeded to fill the silence one sleepless night with his deliberate drawls. His wide palms combed through your scalp absentmindedly. You could feel his warm breaths misting your ear every other second.

"We're living proof of that, Oliver." You gently reminded him.

"They sit on their golden thrones," Oliver raved onwards, irritation hung on every word. You didn't have to advert your eyes upward to know that his chiselled jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck flexed accordingly. "While I had to grow up with an ignorant weasel for a father and a pill-popper for a mother."

You propped yourself up on your elbow, the pillow under your head sunk under the weight as you essentially crawled towards him. Captured his lips with your own, the taste of spearmint toothpaste meddled within your tongue as he proceeded to tangle into you. The kiss alone was fiery, frantic as Oliver poured his past and present into the serene bubble the two of you had formed, together.

"That'll all be behind us soon." You reassured him with each brush of your lips.

"Very soon, my love. They'll be the ones on their knees begging for our mercy."

Those meaning-filled kisses transitioned shortly into something more, the noises of willing gasps and the frantic rustle of garments echoed throughout the suite. In the head-whirling cloudiness of lust, you weren’t to notice the boy who stands with his ear pressed against the other side of the door. Lips thinned. Eyebrows drawn together.

Felix had heard everything he needed to know.

The racketing denouncing of the door caused your head to snap toward the cause. You’ve spent your morning in solitude, with a cup of steaming tea and a handful of your thoughts. Yet the peace you’ve marinated in over the past few hours dissipated as you witnessed Oliver stand there with promptness, hand still pressed deeply against the door handle. The silence drew throughout your suite, disturbed the slow, heavy grunts that reverberated from him.

Something was wrong,

Oliver sucked in a sharp breath.

"We're leaving after the house party tonight." He announced at last.

Your teacup almost slipped from your palms. Your breath quickened, fumbling to set the object aside before you made a start towards Oliver. And the man — who seemed more like a boy at the moment — inclined his toned arms around the sleight of your waist, clutching for dear life. He held you close. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. You felt each puff of breath escape and fill him, emptying him and deeming him whole. Your arms secured around his shoulders, triceps tucked behind his neck.

"24 hours is more than enough." You deemed.

"You think?"

"I believe."

As you spoke, you felt the muscles that once rippled rigidly against your hands loosen the slightest. Your digits traced absentminded patterns into the hem of his shirt.

“You’re tense.” You pointed out, falling back momentarily in the process. Your eyebrows drew together as you took in the strained look blatantly playing on his face. With the amount of stress filling his ocean-remanent eyes, he had looked to have aged a decade.

Oliver's hands braced towards your jaw, long digits framing your face as he leant in. He peppered a feather-weight kiss to the top of your head. You couldn't have missed his shaky inhales grazing the cuff of your ear as he inched forward.

“I have a plan.”

That's how you and Oliver found yourselves occupying the brink of your unmade bed, the cup of half-drunken tea still allocated in your hands and a look of fierce determination glowering in his unwavering gaze.

Wordlessly, Oliver lapsed a singular, broad hand in the vicinity of his dark dress pants, fingers gliding beneath the denim material. Your breath is lodged in the centre of your throat at the very sight. Your thoughts began to drift, internally perplexing if his grand plan was to fuck his griefs out on you. That was until he retrieved a ziplock bag from his briefs, cocaine weighing the plastic down.

"Oliver Quick. You are a fucking genius." You whistled at the glimpse of the thin, pale powder. Oliver's intentions were as clear as day and the motions for revenge were just as evident.

The pressure and strain that pulsated behind Oliver’s eyes softened with every syllable that escaped your lips. His gaze never left yours, deliciously prominent. A somewhat startled squeal echoed throughout the bedroom suite as Oliver hauled you up using the agency of your hips. Your legs sprawl on both flanks of his thighs as he reposed you across the sleight of his lap.

"C'mere 'n say it to my face then, princess."

The house party that arose thereafter that evening was open to all extravagant guests who were deemed worthy enough to be invited personally by the Cattons. You were bursting at the seams with scorching adrenaline at the thought of all of these unsuspecting capitalists, oblivious of what was about to transpire.

You and Oliver remained on contrasting sides of the estate, a fact that brought a sense of yearning. And you yearned for nothing more than to blow the night with the man you deemed to be your beloved. Alas, the two of you weren't established. And you both had a murder to fulfil.

One day.

"Shh..."

Oliver's voice was hushed, his whispers interlinked with a domineering raspiness as the two of you venture away from the club scene of heroin, alcohol and the prominent hue of arousal and cigarette smoke. You spied Felix, his celestial silhouette still visible from a fair distance away. He's accompanied by one of the well-heeled invitees, one of his idolizers who had spent the majority of the night garnering his undivided attention.

You crushed your drug stick underneath the heel of your footwear as you proceeded to wander behind the individuals ahead. They advanced towards the vast bridge that adorned one of the numerous rivers the estate occupied. Which acted as a hook-up spot for most, obvious by the number of condoms and cigarettes scattered upon the planks.

You gave a wordless prayer for the estate maids for their grounds inspection at dawn. But you knew God couldn't help neither you nor Oliver now for what you were about to accomplish.

It was childishly easy. Snag one of the champagne bottles from the downstairs kitchens and instil half of the ziplock bag's contents into the beige substance. Shook it until it was dissolved. Oliver seized it by his side.

By the time the couple approached the bridge, Felix already propped his midnight flings up on the fencing, palms grappling behind their thighs to keep them fixed in place. Their calves squeezed around the roundness of his hips, digits fumbled urgently to undo the leather clasps of his belt.

Within a minute or two, a strangled moan rang throughout the otherwise hushed air as Felix buried his head into the crook of their neck.

Anticipation pounded through you with each step you made. The heart of the Cattons. Soon to be executed under the guise of revenge. And what a bloody revenge it would be. Oliver's vacant hand intertwined with your own for a beat of a second, a rapid squeeze capable of sending any possible doubt into destruction. Replaced by a flutter of warmth that uncoiled in your chest.

Felix had taken notice of you both hastily, balls deep in his oblivious affair – who was spluttering and whimpering around his shoulder. The chorus of smacking flesh subsided, the strike of Felix’s hips diminishing as the man stared at his former friends with a bewildered expression.

"The hell are you doing here?" Felix demanded, grunting a half-hearted apology to his now flustered entanglement as his palms clung to their waist, pulling out with a fluent jerk of his hips. He was in every respect flaccid now, no doubt.

Oliver wasn’t phased in the slightest. "We need to talk, Felix."

“What the hell?”

The individual who once occupied the bridge had already recomposed themselves, looking daggers up at the colossal man that towered over them. Felix scarcely spared them a glance. They seethe at his lack of response, before steamrolling past you to rejoin the commotion back at the estate.

Rendering them alone.

"There's nothing to talk about," Felix contended. He broke his gaze as he heeled momentarily to adjust himself. Sloppily. There’s a shakiness in his hands.

In your eyes, he's the remnant of a fallen angel. Shadowed eyebags dominated the space beneath Felix’s whisky-glittering eyes, his wolfish-like face wiltering, hollow cheeks thinned out excessively to be presumed normal. You acknowledged it was a fact that everyone else's value of him wouldn't budge. Not even a dent. Not even in the grave.

Oliver thrust the sabotaged bottle against Felix's Herculean chest with a forceful arm, prompting him to grab hold. Your pulse rang in between your ears. You wished you could’ve engraved this moment in time into your mind.

"You're right." You reasoned. Your words seemed foreign to your ears as if it were someone else that was speaking. You could only pray that the ecstatic nervousness that jolted throughout you wasn't manifesting outwardly.

Oliver’s fingers laced within your own. The sweat that prickled along the curve of his palm signalled to you wordlessly that he was experiencing the same, intense elation that grappled at your abdomen and twisted. "We'll see you back at Oxford, yeah?"

Felix scrutinizes the somewhat empty champagne bottle in his palms (courtesy of you pouring it out an hour prior). His words falter and for a moment you begin to ponder if his perception of you two was corrupted for good. Nevertheless, Felix fixated immensely towards your linked hands.

"Yeah. I'll see you back at Oxford."

As you and Oliver diverged from Felix, you could hear the droughty gulps of the spiked substance. It was apparent to you that you'd never see Felix again after this moment. The reassurance of that fact, set in stone, brought about a flutter of relief to overtake the apprehension you once esteemed.

A slow, deliberate smile crept onto your lips.

As predicted, the entire Catton household fell apart after Felix was found. He collapsed on the wooden tiling of the bridge, sprawled out with a mouthful of his puke pooled around his ever-paling silhouette.

It was obvious he suspected. He trusted them anyway and attempted to save himself in the process.

Even though you both were invited to the funeral a couple of days after the fact, the rock-tossing (an off-putting tradition in the Catton family) was regarded as family only.

You sat, only an hour later, bare feet dangling off of the edge of the bridge as Oliver attempted to retrieve each rock from the drafts of the flowing river current.

"Don't fall in and drown, Ollie!" You exclaimed, playfulness irking your tone as you grinned down at him. The sight of Oliver, ass-up, in an attempt to grasp the smooth, memorial rock was a sight to witness indeed.

Oliver turned his head and snapped out of his focused determination to flash you a similar smirk. "I'd have to be bound and gagged for that to happen, sweetheart."

His words caused a particular imagery to pollute your thoughts.

Alas, your plans towards the Catton family and their demise were practically writing themselves. Venetia was becoming heavily depressed by the absence of Felix and Farleigh (whom Oliver framed and resulted in him having to exit Saltburn for good).

With a few metal blades smuggled into a porcelain bath and a few encouraging words from Ollie, the woman was found bathing in her crimson remains. Funeral. Rock-tossing. Rock-retrieving.

"Be careful the rock doesn't weigh you down, Ollie!"

You continued to tease him as he soon approached you. Oliver's typically straight, combed-over locks of caramel were drenched. The waterdrops highlighted the olive of his skin, and you wished desperately to kiss all the droplets away.

Oliver took hold of your waist, pulling you in. A droplet of water splashed against the end of your nose, causing a stray laugh to rise out of you.

"If I'm goin' down, you're goin' down with me."

Oliver lowered his head, his water-dripping, plump lips placed a long kiss on the end of your nose. The sudden shake of his wet strands caused water to spray all across your face.

You groaned in protest. You kissed him back anyway.

Laughing felt foreign to you. Especially when you were smuggling a dissolvable pill or two in the alcohol-infested substance of both Sir James and Lady Elspeth's glasses. It lies atop the tables decorating either side of the king-sized bed. They were preoccupied with the purposeful ruckus Oliver was causing downstairs and lurched up from their sleeping quarters to investigate.

Like all the victims before them, it was elementary. James and Elspeth evolved into a habit of indulging in a few (or five) drinks before bed. The tendency to stress drink evergrowing with the funerals and departures that lined up before them. Before their own.

Oliver slid the build of his toned arms around you, sensing his biceps straining straight into your waist. You watched as the drugged solution dissolved into nothingness while he watched you. A singular reached upwards towards your mouth which was pulled back into a grin. He bore a cool palm over your lips.

"If you keep laughin' like that, you're gonna give us away." His voice rumbled into the curve of your ear. The assertive husk of Oliver’s tone was enough to cause you to fall silent, only the ghost of a smile flickering upon your lips.

Elspeth dreaded the idea of the lovers ever considering their departure from Saltburn. James desired the absence even more. You both decided to make it easier for them.

A choked cry echoed out, barely five minutes later.

Oliver towered over the end of the bed. He never wanted it to transpire this way, but Elspeth refused to bloody die off. Your lover's fists decorated the weak column of her throat like a collar, harsh palms proceeding to crush down against skin and bone without a sleight of hesitance.

"Sweetheart, look away." He evoked.

You couldn't.

Elspeth gawked up at Oliver with wrinkled eyes. Once brimming with adoration. Now dull with despair, her calloused hands went as far as to claw against the relentlessness of his hands. Elspeth's air supply grows limited, a strangled outburst that escapes her at this realisation.

It didn't take long for her to stop fighting, and collapse against the paled corpse of her husband. You peppered lightweight kisses along the gaping nail marks dressing the skin atop Oliver’s hands. Oliver's blood was left smeared across the frame of your lips. Like he was your sacrifice. Like you were a god.

He looked at you like such.

Disposing of the bodies was even simpler. As you laboured to wipe the bedsheets clean of any possible evidence, Oliver tossed the carcasses into the wide, sprawling woods a mile or two away from the estate. The wild animals are bound to eat away at the rot infecting the pale, cold meat.

From scum, you came. Now scum you become.

The Catton Family Players music box is anchored to a table, presented in the middle of the foyer. Four smooth rocks perched on top. Even though there wasn't a funeral explicitly necessary in this case, it grew to be a game. You and Oliver took turns tossing the engraved rock into the rivers before plunging after them.

In no time at all, whatever garments you possessed were cast aside. You were shoulders-down submerged in the pummelling waters, each movement rippling the moana-blue waves.

Oliver bore his arms around you, encompassing your waist to keep you afloat so you would be able to soak in the scenery ahead of you. Submerged in the serenity of nature. With only the limelight of the sun sinking below the horizon to keep you two company.

You trusted him not to drop you. Of course, you trusted him.

Why wouldn't you trust him when he gave you everything you had ever wanted? His lips pressed warmly against the curve of your forehead. You were both skin to skin, but it didn't feel enough to you. He could’ve been inside you (in whatever way that struck the imagination). And it’d never be enough.

"What's happenin' in your pretty little mind, sugar?" Oliver hummed, his articulation was in the form of a mere whisper. Yet, the rumble of his words solicited you with so much warmth you had to take a second to respond.

"You." His eyebrows raised at the simplicity of your words. "How lucky we are."

The familiar warmth of that chuckle you love so much leaves his chest in a glowing reverberation. "We are a lucky pair, aren't we, darlin'?"

You would've never guessed for revenge and lust to be written on the same page. But through vengeance, and the motions of murder, you had gained your other half.

You had never felt happier. Never felt more whole.

And you loved him. You loved him so immensely. Nobody could have ever doubted that fact in the first place.

That's why you were the most bewildered when you stirred from rest, aroused into waking. You had foreseen residing in Oliver's arms, in the master suite the two of you now occupied. You were in Oliver's arms, yes. But not in the way you hoped for.

That's exactly how you got to this point in time.

You strain and challenge the thick ropes constricting the frame of your ankles and wrists, alerting Oliver to your consciousness. You incline your head over the brink of your bare shoulder, catching a glimpse of nothing but fields surrounding the two of you.

A river draws closer and closer in the distance.

You attempt to will yourself to speak, but your lips are harshly taped shut. Oliver doesn't need to receive your words of interrogation anyway, as he proceeds to speak.

"You were always a feisty one." He comments loosely, voice casual as if you weren't bound and gagged in between his defined biceps. His bare feet hit against the ground beneath him, muffled by the field's natural grass dressing,

"What a shame it had to be this way."

As the river grows nearer and nearer in your line of view, you spy something bland and metal perched on the rocks beside the streaming current. It's rougher today. A contrast in comparison to the passive waves you and Oliver bathed in the few days prior.

Your eyes rounden in realisation.

Fully aware of the restraints diminishing your speech, you attempt to grill the man above you on why the hell he possesses a weight. No properly audible sound manages to slip out.

A dry snigger escapes Oliver. "It would've been too obvious, my dear. I mean, we're the last ones standing." He falters in step, the waves of the river's current join the throbbing of your heart, roaring between your ears. Oliver inclines downwards, fingertips as gentle and purposeful as ever as they tease the edge of the tape. "What a tragedy it'd be for my lover to be taken away from me as well."

Tears prickle at the edge of your eyes.

The tape rips away from your lips, strangling a cry from deep within your throat at the throbbing pain that overbears you. Oliver tosses the tape aside without a second thought, the pad of his thumb rubbing easing circles into the somewhat swollen attributes of your mouth. "Shh..."

"Oliver, this isn't fucking funny."

"I know it isn't, sweetheart."

The man you thought you loved lowers his head and meets a feathery kiss against your lips. Once. Twice. Thrice. He leans upwards, and an indescribable emotion flutters in the whirling aquamarine of his eyes. "But it has to be done."

Oliver's broadened palm takes hold of your mouth harshly, sinking his slender digits into the flush of your cheeks. A sharp distinction to the flutter of his lips seconds prior. You howl your protests into his fingers, writhing in his overpowering arms as he works to lock the weight onto the rope decorating your ankle. Your howls turn into sobs that wrack your chest with each breath, the colour promptly draining from your face. Oliver stands right at the edge of the rocks lining the river, decorating the roaring waters below.

Molten tears ride down your cheeks. Your voice rasps. "Ollie?"

"Yes, princess?" He still garners the ability to serenade you with the sweet tinges of his words, as if you weren't on the way to your inevitable death.

"Venetia was right about you. You're fucking sick in the head."

There isn’t a trace of aggravation that crosses Oliver’s face. His unruly eyebrows raise for a moment, overcome by amusement as he scrutinizes you darkly.

"Now, now. Let's not forget who was by my side the entire time."

He's right. You know he's right. You glare up at him with a twisted combination of loathing and horror at the enlightenment. You took down every one of the Cattons by his side. He took you under his wing and assisted you in getting your way against the people you've despised for the majority of your life. This was your way of repaying him.

"I'll see you in hell, bastard."

These are the very last words you manage to seethe before your bound silhouette is freed from Oliver's bone-chilling palms. Before your entire physique sinks into the freezing waters, swallowing your entire body whole as the weight anchoring your leg propels you further downwards.

Your last breaths escape you in a gust of bubbles, rising desperately to the top as you reach the bottom of the makeshift hell you were tossed into.

The last thing you see is a rock with your name on it.

—Pues mírame a los ojos, dime si ves el vacío que deja amor perdido— "LOOK ME IN THE EYES, TELL ME IF YOU SEE THE VOID THAT LOST LOVE LEFT BEHIND"

WORD COUNT: 4K MASTERLIST

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astradreaming · 8 months

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Dating Clovis Grant

MY MAN! HIM! JUST HIM <;33

masterlist

clovis is arguably the best boyfriend ever.

☆ not only does he give the most amazing hugs and cuddles but the man can cook up a storm. so expect homemade meals and desserts when your feeling down

☆ hes such an attentive boyfriend, he always knows when your having a bad day and knows just what you need to feel better

☆ he's one of the only people in camp who can get away with having you stay overnight. so expect sleepovers

☆ speaking of, he 100% joins you in your dreams and even though when you wake up you can't always remember them, he holds those moments close

☆ you were with him through the entire war, when he was unclaimed in cabin 11 to when he was finally claimed and had zero control over his powers

☆ with determination and your support clovis was able to keep his powers under control. every now and then he still needs a break and is found asleep in random corners of camp

☆ you definitely became his personal pillow when he was unable to control his powers and now he still lies down on you when he's tired almost as a inside joke

☆ now that he's got control the two of you definitely train together and he's an amazing swordsman especially when he figured out how to put his opponents to sleep

☆ whatever hobbies you have he will sit and listen to your rambles, he will ask questions and buy things that remind him of said hobby for you

☆ he makes sure you don't have nightmare but he can't stop most demigod dreams (seeing as most of them are in link with a prophecy/quest) but he's aware of them and goes straight to your cabin when he senses something's wrong.

☆ hes the type of boyfriend to buy two drinks and whichever one you dislike more he'll happily have.

☆ OLIVE THEORY BOYFRIEND RIGHT HERE

☆ yk those guys getting married who smoosh the cake in the brides face even though they know the bride doesn't want them too but they do it anyway? yeah clovis would rather die even think of being like that

☆ he also definitely hasn't fully planned out your wedding, and totally hasn't see it play out in one of his dreams

☆ he's the type of guy who would wait all year for the release of a movie then wait for the dvd to come out just because he knows you don't like the same movies as him and he's not going to force you to sit through a movie you won't like. and going to the movies without you? without. you. ??? no.

☆ he has the best pajamas and without a doubt lets you borrow them

☆ he would also love the matching pajamas/onesies. he might beg you to wear them with him

☆ speaking of begging, that man has the cruelest puppy eyes ever. one bat of his big brown eyes and your crumbling (your pretty sure it's even worked on chiron)

☆ he's the best guy to bring home as well, he is the perfect gentleman and he's so charismatic. whoever's at home with you will instantly accept and love him

☆ and please don't even get me started on how pretty he is

☆ because ugh he's gorgeous

☆ his wild and curly brown hair with his doe brown eyes. he has the cutest dimples and when he gets super tired he gets the slightest lisp

☆ he owns a pair of light blue bunny slippers he wears unironically and it's the cutest thing ever

☆ hes always on your side no matter what, and when he loves someone he loves them with all his heart

UGH CLOVIS IS THE BEST

#pjo x reader #clovis grant x reader #pjo fandom #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #clovis #clovis pjo #pjo #clovis grant #clovis pjo x reader #pjo hypnos #percy jackson x reader

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ladykailitha · 10 months

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Grief ( A Friend Indeed) Part 11

Here we finally get the singing love songs at each other, a misunderstanding, and it's resolution. The next chapter is the last one. Thank you all who've come along with me on this journey.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

****

Steve woke up the next morning feeling like the world had been taken off his shoulders for the first time since he ran back into the Byers’ house and throw his lot in with would-be monster killers.

Yeah, the thing with Hopper still hadn’t been resolved and maybe never would be, but he had someone who understood. Eddie understood.

The next few days went without incident. Steve still talked to Robin whenever he could, but now he had someone else to talk to, too. He called Percy as well.

But that was reserved for when Eddie wasn’t around. He wanted to talk to someone about being in an gay relationship. And even without knowing Eddie’s romantic history, there was still no doubt that Percy had way more experience than his friend.

It felt good.

Soon it was their last night in Ashland and they were all at Hal’s Bar. Penny, Danny, Wayne, too. Oliver was watching Gale while everyone else went out.

Granted he had only agreed to babysit if Penny and Danny bought him a Nintendo system for his birthday, but it was still nice.

Danny got up and sang Donovan’s Sunshine Superman to Penny, who laughed.

“I’ll tell you right now,” Danny sang, “Any trick in the book now, baby, all that I can find!”

Steve laughed along with her but he couldn’t help but think of Eddie when he heard the lyrics “A you-you-you can just sit there a-thinking on your velvet throne, Bout all the rainbows a-you can a-have for your own, when you make your mind up forever to be mine!”

That silly little throne he insisted on having at every D&D game, that finally Steve got Dustin and Lucas to help him steal it from the drama department when Eddie graduated and install it in Steve’s basement so that he could continue to be King of the Freaks.

Eddie had nearly cried when he saw it. As far as graduation presents go, it really couldn’t be topped.

Steve shared a glance with Eddie who blushed. And maybe they were thinking of the same thing.

They even got Wayne up there to sing House of the Rising Sun.

Steve nudged Eddie with his elbow. “And you said he couldn’t carry a tune. I think he did a bang up job with that one,” he teased.

Eddie grumbled something about hiding talents under bushes or some such shit.

Steve got up and sang “Head Over Heels”.

Just belted his heart out.

Eddie and Lauren were sitting there sipping their drinks, Hal, having gave Eddie a bottle of beer since his birthday was so close and Lauren sipping on her Dr Pepper.

“So did you hear that Steve turned down Beth of all people?” Lauren said with derision.

Eddie smiled around his beer. “Oh yeah, but Steve was never gonna tap that, even under more ideal circumstances than attending a funeral.”

“Yeah, why’s that?” she asked.

“His type is leggy brunettes with soulful eyes and curly brown hair,” he said with a smirk.

Lauren turned to Eddie in shock. “So he really would have changed the pronouns that first night if he hadn’t thought that the crowd would shank him outside the bar after.”

“Yup!”

“Holy shit!” She downed the rest of her soda. “Which means the person he has chance with...”

“Is from home, but not at home at the moment?” he teased. “Oh yeah. No doubt he was talking about me.”

“Wait,” Lauren hissed. “How did you know that’s what he said?”

“I may have overheard the conversation on my way to the bathroom,” he admitted with a wince.

She smacked his arm. “You sly dog! You’ve known this whole time and didn’t tell me!”

“It wasn’t my place to tell,” Eddie defended. “He hasn’t even told me she was the reason he wanted to get out of town in the first place.”

She eyed him warily. “Fine.” Lauren crossed her arms over her chest.

“Fine?” he asked, unsure.

“Yeah, it sucks,” she said. “But I get it.”

She looked up at Steve who was finishing the song. “That song is also about you.”

“In my mind’s eye, one little boy, one little man. Funny how time flies,” Steve crooned.

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, I know that too.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Lauren said.

Eddie got up and gave Steve a hug as they passed each other. Hal had already hooked up the amp so Eddie could play.

He grabbed the guitar and put the strap over his shoulder. “Hey, guys! I have one more song for you before I go back to Indiana.”

“Mh-hm-hmm, yeah, yeah,” Eddie began. “Holy Diver. You’ve been down too long in the midnight sea. Oh what’s be coming of me?”

Steve blushed.

Lauren tilted her head to look at him and then back at Eddie on stage. There was something about the song Eddie was singing that got Steve embarrassed.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the right word. Flustered? That might be closer to the mark.

“Holy diver!” Eddie continued to sing. “You’re the star of the masquerade. No need to look afraid!”

A few minutes later the song was over with and was absolutely star struck.

When Eddie loped back over to their table Steve said, “Dude, you really should be famous for your playing.”

Eddie grinned. “But not my singing, right?”

Steve pushed him playfully. “For that too, drama queen.”

Eddie cackled and sat back down.

Steve watched as other patrons got up and sang too. None were as good as Eddie. But then he was pretty sure he was bias.

Eddie walked out with Steve and Lauren at ten despite being told he was welcome to stay.

“So what’s the deal with Wayne and Hal?” Steve asked. “They spent the whole night huddled in that corner booth.”

Eddie laughed. “Hal and Wayne go way back. Since Uncle Danny and Aunt Penny got married. They’ve been inseparable.”

Steve just hummed.

Lauren looked at him. “What’s up?”

Steve scratched his cheek. “It’s just that if either of them had been a woman, it would have looked they were trying to change their last name.”

Lauren and Eddie frowned unsure of what he meant but Lauren caught on first.

“You thought they were flirting?” she gasped.

Steve shrugged. “One of my uncles is gay and if I hadn’t seen them act the same way as Wayne and Hal...”

Eddie stopped in his tracks and then burst out laughing.

“That sly dog!” Eddie crowed. “That’s what he meant when he said that he understood me better than I thought he did when I came out to him when I was sixteen.”

Lauren’s eyes went wide. “I have two gay uncles?”

Steve laughed too. “I didn’t mean to rock your world.”

Lauren looked back at the bar. “I think I know how to get Hal to bend the rules for me.”

Eddie smacked her hand. “No blackmailing Uncle Wayne’s boyfriend. That’s mean.”

Lauren pouted. “Fiiinnnne.” She grinned. “Does that mean I can blackmail Uncle Wayne?”

“No!” Steve protested. “Absolutely not!”

Eddie giggled. “Uh-huh, you got him to use his mom no. You’re in so much trouble now.”

“I do not have a mom no,” Steve protested. “Don’t listen to him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Eddie cackled. “It’s the same no you used with Red in her trailer.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Well, shit.” He turned to Lauren. “Apparently I have a mom no.”

She laughed.

Steve was really going to miss her. Maybe he could convince her to come out later this summer, too.

Eddie was not having a good morning. He couldn’t find his Metallica shirt, tore up the whole room looking for it, only for Wayne to point out he was wearing it.

And then he spilled hot coffee on his pants and to change them.

Then the tarp they were going to use to cover the furniture they got was ripped in three places. So Danny had too take Wayne to buy a new one, because the one he had was too small.

So they were late getting out. The skies were darkening and a huge storm was rolling in.

Cue one very grumpy Eddie.

Steve wasn’t fairing much better but that was more that he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“I’ve got to go with Wayne,” Eddie grumbled. “I see you at the truck station we stopped on the way down, k?”

Steve nodded, his lips pursed. “Got it. See you then.”

Eddie nodded and trudged back to the truck.

Wayne wisely said nothing and they both slid into the cab of the truck.

“Your boy going to find the truck stop okay?” he asked to break the oppressive silence.

“He’s not my boy,” Eddie grumbled. “Not yet anyway.”

They started driving and Wayne looked in the review mirror to make sure Steve was following him.

He frowned. “Is he okay?”

Eddie looked back at the Bimmer and saw that Steve was hitting the steering wheel, waving his arms about and he couldn’t be sure. Not at this distance. But it looked like he was crying.

“Shit!” he cursed. “Stop the truck!”

Wayne slammed on his breaks and Eddie threw open the door and ran back.

About half way to Steve’s car the skies opened up and just pummeled the earth with rain.

Eddie picked up speed and yanked the passenger side door open. He hurried in and slammed the door.

“Eds?” Steve croaked confirming the crying as easily as the tears on his face. “What–how–I mean...”

Eddie grabbed his face and gently wiped away his tears. “You seem to be laboring under some misconceptions out here. So I’m going to clue you in.”

Steve blinked. “Huh?”

“One, I have go with Wayne to keep an on the tarp over the heavy furniture,” Eddie explained, hands never leaving Steve’s cheeks. “He needs a second person as a spotter to make sure nothing flies into traffic.”

Steve gulped. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Eddie said firmly. “Two, I would much rather be in this car with you. Getting to spend this week with you have been amazing because I got to know you better and I loved that. I love just being with you.”

“Oh,” Steve said, his breath stuttering in his chest.

“Yeah, oh,” Eddie said. “And you better listen up to this bit, Steve Harrington, because I’m going to make this a clear to you as I can. I am absolutely head over heels in love you.”

“Oh.”

“So what’s going to happen,” Eddie finished, “is this. I’m going to kiss you senseless, then I’m going to run back to Wayne’s truck in the fucking rain because the weather decided to be a bigger dramatic bitch then I am, and then I will meet you at the truck stop to repeat step one a lot.”

Steve face shivered into something like happiness. It wasn’t a smile, not yet, but Eddie could feel the change of mood.

“That okay with you?” Eddie confirmed.

Steve smiled at last banishing the last of the gloomy thoughts. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Eddie said and proceeded to kiss Steve senseless.

“Wow,” Steve murmured when they broke of the kiss.

Eddie cackled. “Back 'atcha, Stevie.”

“You better get back to Wayne, before you flood the cab of his truck because you left your door open.”

Eddie turned in front of him. “Oops! See you, sweetheart!” He kissed Steve’s cheek and was dashing back into the rain, jacket pulled over his head.

He got to the truck and slipped back in. The seat was wet, but so was his pants so it really didn’t fucking matter at that point.

“So you still wanna argue he’s not your boy?” Wayne asked with a smile.

“Nope.” Eddie just crossed his arms and hunkered down on the bench.

“You not going to tell me about what just happened?”

Eddie looked at him, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Wayne shook his head and started driving again. This time Steve immediately followed.

****

Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #minor character death #dealing with grief

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littlejuicebox · 7 months

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this is random, but a prompt idea that made me giggle is what if Tav wasn’t very interested in Astarion, maybe she’s from a more stoic or conservative country/realm/plane, so his flirting either went over her head or pushed her away… until she sees him sewing. Him acting ‘domestic’ immediately attracts her. Him secretly fixing Karlach’s bear, or later maybe fixing up Yenna’s clothes, makes her give him heart eyes.

Astarion, who already gave up after his flirting failed, is very confused by her sudden attention and requests for sewing lessons. For extra fun, what if post-brain she requests for lessons on sewing tiny clothes, not even realizing she’s asking how to make baby clothes—their baby’s.

Olive Branch

This is a bit different from my other work so I thought I'd give it a go! Not 100% satisfied with it, but I hope you still enjoy, anon!

Word count: 1.3K

Tags/warnings: All fluff, Astarion being Astarion lol

-----

Astarion finally gave up on seducing Tav . He’d originally pegged her as a naive, and therefore easily charmed and manipulated, cleric. Unfortunately, two weeks of wasted effort proved him wrong. She’d barely spoken or paid attention to him and his overt advances at all.

Any attempts to entrance her with aggressive flirtation or the allure of his sexual wiles seemed to have an opposite effect. In fact, Tav would always gravitate more towards Wyll and Gale and preferred to avoid him almost entirely.

He couldn’t be the issue, of course. He was gorgeous, witty, and made it quite clear he was experienced in bed. He was the man of anyone’s dreams; he knows because he’d manufactured himself to be practically undeniable to the masses.

So then it was obviously her… she was certainly the problem. Something about that – admittedly attractive – cleric was strange; she was oddly secretive about her goddess. The rogue couldn’t even be sure which goddess it was; Tav never referred to the deity by name.

Her apparent distaste for him was concerning, however. Just a few days back, the monster-hunter had outed him as a vampire. The entire group seemed ready to cast him aside after that, save their cleric leader. She’d granted him a moment of mercy and had been able to convince the others that he wasn’t a danger, though he felt he was on thin ice with her and everyone else.

Astarion did not know how he was going to charm his way out of this one. And as the rogue sits in front of his tent, mulling over his options for ensuring his own security, he begins to consider that perhaps he should just suck it up and proposition Lae’zel or Gale. One of them would be sufficient, too.

The elf is ripped from his scheming by a sudden groan of dismay from Karlach just a few tents over. When he turns to survey the scene, he sees the slouched tiefling grasping onto that stuffed bear she slept with every night, muttering something to a concerned Tav.

“Perhaps we can find a new bear, Karlach,” Tav says, frowning as she gently takes the stuffed animal from her friend and spins it around in her hand. The toy’s back seam is split apart; tufts of white stuffing spill from the opening.

Astarion instantly recognizes the issue. And the opportunity. Karlach is easily Tav’s favorite campmate – they were two sappy peas in a pod. It was likely that by offering his aid, he’d be able to win points with both the strongest member in camp and their illustrious leader, all without much effort on his part. Perfect.

“I can fix that for you, Karlach, if you’d prefer!” The rogue calls, snapping shut the book he’d been half-reading before taking a few strides toward his campmate, “It looks simple enough, wouldn’t take me more than an hour or so.”

Karlach, always the easily excitable, affable campmate, is grinning as she responds, “Really, Fangs?! You can do that?”

The silver-haired elf chuckles and then nods, taking the bear from a suspicious Tav before briefly examining it, “Certainly. It’s nothing a simple whipstitch won’t fix.”

And then he returns to his tent and quickly sets to work. As promised, the bear is good as new in just over an hour.

Later that evening, the vampire sits close to the campfire, warming his icy skin. Apart from Tav, all his campmates had returned to their tents and since gone to sleep. The cleric was perhaps the only person that loved the fire almost as much as he did; she would often stare at it for long periods of time as if in prayer or meditation.

These nightly moments between the two of them typically passed in relative silence until one or the other dismissed themselves from the strained situation. Sometimes it felt as if they were fighting for a claim over the fire.

But tonight, Tav turns her head to stare at Astarion for a moment too long, prompting him to face in her direction with an arched eyebrow.

“You’re quite talented at sewing,” She says, her eyes flickering across his face, examining it as if it’s brand new and not a visage she’s already known for weeks. Astarion thinks he sees her skin reddening, but then, she’s sitting remarkably close to the flames.

This olive branch is unexpected.

“Is that an actual compliment?” Astarion retorts, feigning shock and cocking his head just slightly, “I suppose I’ll take it, darling. I have to admit it’s preferable to the eye rolls and sighs you normally send my way.”

Tav shrugs, not really refuting any of the rogue’s claims, before continuing on, “I suppose I didn’t think you had a domestic bone in your body. I misjudged you.”

“Domestic?” Astarion asks, his tone betraying his displeasure at being called such a thing. He thinks she means to call him weak and is about to spew an insult in the cleric’s direction before she interrupts.

“I don’t mean offense,” She starts, throwing her hands up in surrender, “I apologize, I forget that isn’t always viewed as a compliment. But where I come from, domesticity is a highly favored attribute.”

The rogue’s vitriol dies in his mouth as he assesses the woman in front of him. He can’t help it, he’s curious, so he asks, “And where do you come from, exactly?”

There is a long moment of silence. Tav heavily considers her response. And then she sighs and shrugs, “I’m from a hamlet in the Dalelands… it’s quite small, made up of no more than a few hundred. Most of us worship Hestia, the goddess of hearth and home.”

Astarion’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to recall this goddess, but he doesn’t recognize the name.

Tav realizes Astarion has no clue what she’s talking about and visibly relaxes, “She is the goddess of hearth and home in our beliefs. Most inhabitants of the Dalelands worship Chauntea… Hestia worship is not widely accepted. It’s generally considered savagery.”

The rogue shrugs. He really didn’t care who worshiped which god. In his eyes, all gods and goddesses were essentially the same and none of them seemed to respond anyway. Everyone was free to beg whatever deity for whatever handouts they wanted; he preferred to abstain from the practice entirely.

“Good for you, darling, go on and worship whoever tickles your fancy,” The elf responds, turning once again to watch the fire.

Another stretch of silence, this one a bit more comfortable than any moments previous. Astarion doesn’t notice as the cleric quietly admires his profile, her eyes filled with a yearning that hadn’t ever been directed towards the vampire until now.

After a while, Tav stands and briefly stretches her muscles. She walks a few steps toward her tent but then abruptly spins around to look at the rogue.

“Astarion?” She murmurs, her tone almost hesitant, as if she’s unsure of herself.

“Yes?” He replies, ripping his eyes away from the fire and dismissing his own thoughts to acknowledge the woman.

“Do you think you’d be able to show me how to sew like you? I only know the basics. I thought you could give me sewing lessons and I could teach you something in return… crochet or how to play the lyre, perhaps?” She asks, her hands twisting together in an anxious knot as she speaks.

The rogue nods almost imperceptibly, subtly cocking his head as he processes Tav’s sudden change in attitude toward him before responding, “Certainly, darling.”

Tav grins, and it appears almost childlike. Astarion feels the briefest flicker of affection toward the woman at her relative innocence, which is such a stark contrast to his own jaded nature.

“Okay, then. How about starting lessons tomorrow night?” She asks, still smiling, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“Sounds like a plan,” The elf responds, and then watches with idle curiosity as Tav bids goodnight and walks away.

Astarion smiles as he returns his attention to the fire. He thinks this is a nice, simple plan; an easy way to keep himself safe in the wilds. Surely a plan as simple as this couldn't fall apart.

Right?

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion fic #baulders gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baulders gate astarion #spawn astarion #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x cleric #astarion fluff

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officalroyalsofpierreland · 2 months

Text

Wedding of HRH Prince Oliver, Duke of Rothsey & HIH Madame Hortense of Francesim Part 3

Stéphane: Indeed my young friend, Madame Hortense and her brother, Emperor Napoleon V, have arrived. And I must say…she looks like a dream. Travis: That she does. I must say, Lady Evie has outdone herself. The call backs to Madame Mere’s own wedding dress, yet it has a beautiful high neckline to show off the new parure that Madame Hortense is wearing.

Stéphane: Ah it is new? New jewels are rare for royal families! Travis: Not for Scots! When a woman joins the family, it is tradition that the groom and his family will each gift the bride a piece of jewelry. Prince Oliver went for the beautiful pearl showcasing tiara while his parents went with the string of pearls.

Stéphane: It is quite a beautiful tradition! We are now seeing that His Holiness is speaking to Emperor Napoleon and Madame Hortense prior to them heading up the aisle. The emotions they must be feeling. Travis: Absolutely. A day of joy that has this slight tinge of sadness. I think we can all not help think of the missing presence of Napoleon IV especially when seeing moments like the one currently.

Travis: And the trumpets of the Royal Household and the Royal Air Force sound. This grouping signifies that Prince Oliver will one day be commander in chief as all military branches take part. Stéphane: And with that, we shall focus on the ceremony with Travis and I making light commentary.

Music

Travis: See The Conquering Hero Comes by Handel…very fitting for this military man to enter with. Also, what his father entered too. Stéphane: The groom and his best man head to the altar escorted by Cardinal MacMillian.

Travis: Meanwhile on the other side of the Cathedral, the other clergy men including the Holy Father being their procession up the aisle.

Stéphane: And now, Prince Oliver waits patiently with the Holy Father for his bride to be.

Music Change

Stéphane: Ave verum corpus by Mozart…a beautiful musical selection. Travis: Absolutely. It is invoking ethereal while maintaining solemness to this moment.

Travis: And behind the bride is her bridal party, Prince Lenerd has already mastered the royal wave to camera.

Stéphane: Meanwhile, a front view of Madame Hortense and the Emperor. A beautiful and stunning bride.

Stéphane: They have reached the altar, here we can see the lace detailing on the back and sleeves.

Travis: A brief exchange between the Emperor and Prince Oliver and a rare display of affection, right Stéphane? Stéphane: That is correct! In fact I believe the Emperor stepped forward to initiate the hug. They are soon to be brothers.

Pope Gregorious: Oliver and Hortense, the Church shares your joy and warmly welcomes you, together with your families and friends, as today, in the presence of God, you establish between yourselves a lifelong partnership. May the Lord grant your hearts’ desire and fulfill every one of your prayers. Amen

Travis: And now the couple is moving to take their seats for the readings…and this is such a tender moment as King Phillippe of the Ionian Union, cousin to the bride, reads first.

Phillippe: A reading from Song of Songs ...My lover belongs to me and I to him. He says to me: “Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm;

Phillippe: For stern as death is love, relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire. Deep waters cannot quench love, nor floods sweep it away. The Word of the Lord. Stéphane: And Now, Crown Prince Louis of Pierreland. Cousin of the Groom.

Louis: A reading from the 1st Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians. ...Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests,

Louis: it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. The Word of the Lord.

Fr. Carter: A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew. He said in reply, “Have you not read that from the beginning the Creator made them male and female and said, For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh? So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, man must not separate.” The Gospel of the Lord.

Fr. Carter: Good morning Your Majesties, Highness, Graces, and everyone from the simverse as we are all here to celebrate HIH Madame Hortense of Francesim marry HRH Prince Oliver, Duke of Rothsey. I am Father Andrew Carter, a Scots Royal Army Chaplain who the lovely couple gave the honor of guiding them through counseling. “For This reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.”

Fr Carter: Today is a transformative day for Oliver and Hortense, as they leave the houses of their childhoods, to join together and to create a new family unit. A family that loves and serves together. This is what every marriage strives for, as several of the royal and imperial guests can attest too. To be role models, to show the world that true and lasting love exists, that it endures, and that it is the source of good. This is your charge Oliver and Hortense. And may we all support you in it.

Stéphane: A beautiful sermon by Father Carter. Very moving.

@empiredesimparte @funkyllama

#officalroyalsofpierreland #story #collab #empiredesimparte #theweddingofoliverandhortense

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ome-magical-ramblings · 11 months

Text

Incense pt.3 , Blessings of Spirits.

First practical working with the Censer and I would like this to come out of the first and second sections that we did. Is that we make our own incense mix here. I will try to make it very simple and low on Ingredients. The reason I am starting with a blessing is that you want the censer to obtain blessing and virtue by blessing others.

Preparation for the Ritual is making the incense and we will work with: 1. one spoon of Sandalwood powder 2. one spoon of Brown Sugar or Arabic Gum 3. Add enough water to make a dough of the correct consistency 4. Few drops of olive oil. 5. 3 resin of frankincense and myrrh. You put all of them in a bowl and start making a "ball" and rolling all ingredient together until you get something pretty consistent and looks good to use and you let it dry some of the water covered in shrink wrap or something like that. You let it sit for 2 weeks or so and dry out. As you can see in the image below on the right it is the incense mix I made recently and on the right is the one I use after it dries out. Something you can do is put something to "help" the incense mix burn and you might need some testing and fidgeting with the stuff. It's not an easy process but at least you're not going through the route of making self-combusting incense.

The Ritual Proper

I have to emphasize that this isn’t a general offering and I don’t condone nor support the idea of “feeding spirits” randomly. That mean this whole ritual will be very specific in who you want you to give the offering or the blessing to, in the same logic of why you wouldn’t give money to random people in the street or you wouldn’t go to Facebook marketplace and say “FREE MONEY” and then put your location.

The Ritual Outline would be:

1) Prayer to God/Divine Creator. 2) Establishing “Overseers” of the offerings and boundaries. 3) Prayers to call the spirits. 4) Blessings and Thanksgiving. 5) Closure.

Part 1

You Establish some connection to divinity with the ritual and start by asking for guidance, you can of course use the Hidden Stele instead of Aphorism 14 from Arbatel here:

O Lord of heaven and earth, Creator and Maker of all things visible and invisible; I, though unworthy, by thy assistance call upon thee, through thy onely begotten Son Jesus Christ our Lord, that thou wilt give unto me thy holy Spirit, to direct me in thy truth unto all good. Amen.

Because I earnestly desire perfectly to know the Arts of this life and such things as are necessary for us, which are so overwhelmed in darkness, and polluted with infinite humane opinions, that I of my own power can attain to no knowledge in them, unless thou teach it me: Grant me therefore one of thy spirits, who may teach me those things which thou wouldest have me to know and learn, to thy praise and glory, and the profit of our neighbour. Give me also an apt and teachable heart, that I may easily understand those things which thou shalt teach me, and may hide them in my understanding, that I may bring them forth as out of thy inexhaustible treasures, to all necessary uses. And give me grace, that I may use such thy gifts humbly, with fear and trembling, through our Lord Jesus Christ, with thy holy Spirit. Amen.

Part 2

You would put a little put of the incense you made now.

Calling the cardinal Archangels, I usually recommend that people approach this as prayers. You can use format or ask a different thing from each archangel and in any case here’s a format for sake convenience:

“Oh [Archangel name] I ask for your guidance and protection in my ritual today, help me reach those who need my prayers and guide my hand toward those who benefit the most of it. Surround my work in infinite purified divine light of God that no malicious or malevolent spirit may enter and partake in this work, I beseech thee by the blood of Jesus Christ that no deceitful spirit is allowed in this chamber and this blessing is given by the Light of the World our Lord Jesus Christ. “

NOTE: I have to emphasise that the wording that no other spirit comes except those who are coming in light or benevolent. You don’t want to skip this step, you can use whatever form of invocation and with whatever else spirits you usually work but I have to repeat don’t throw the invocation just as free money on the street.

Part 3

You would put a little more of the incense you made now.

Since I am going through this ritual with an elemental focus on mind, now is the time to work with the prayer of elementals. You can use the elemental prayers and walk around the circle calling each elemental kingdom to pray with you!

Part 4

Now the Blessing of the spirit is that you would use the 🖖🖖 gesture toward each direction, where the ritual in Sepher Yetzirah is about sealing the Depths then this ritual is about Blessing the depths. You face each direction and use Numbers 6:24-26

24 ‘“The Lord bless you and keep you; 25 the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; 26 the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

Each Direction you’re sending the blessings to the spirits, ancestors, angels, elementals, and so on who came to receive the blessings. East, South, West, North, East up, East Down. Then Stand there give it a bit, you don’t need to do anything right now and you can stand for a bit.

Part 5

Closure helps establish that the spirit who came on their ways and not have any lingering presence. I use Aphorism 21 from Arbatel to be honest:

Forasmuch as thou camest in peace, and quietly, and hast answered unto my petitions; I give thanks unto God, in whole Name thou camest: and now thou mayest depart in peace unto thy orders; and return to me again when I shall call thee by thy name, or by thy order, or by thy office, which is granted from the Creator. Amen.

'Those that lower their voice in the presence of God's Apostle – their hearts has God tested for piety: for them is forgiveness and a great reward.'

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cardcaptorsakura96 · 10 months

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Taxes, Taxes, Taxes- Chapter 10

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

As Kara flew, she replayed over and over again what Clark had just said to her.

I just received a distress signal on my device from my mom. It looks like it is coming from the farm. I am still far out in space and won’t make it in time. Please hurry and help her!

Martha Kent was the first one who welcomed Kara to Earth. She was actually the one who found her when she crash-landed on the planet. She was so kind and loving which was something Kara so desperately needed after seeing her own world shatter before her very eyes. Once Kara got settled at the farm, Martha immediately told Clark about her.

It wasn’t that Clark wasn’t welcoming. He was more cautious. Kara was initially understanding at first. Unfortunately, Zod had come before her and caused havoc on Earth. After Clark sent him to the phantom zone, it took him over a year to rebuild people’s trust in him. Now, he had Kara, a new Kryptonian popping into his life, and he wasn’t sure what her intentions were. Every time he looked at Kara, he seemed conflicted about how to respond. So she gave him space. She stayed at the farm while Clark continued his life in Metropolis. It wasn’t bad. Martha was a second mother to her. She would offer her advice and help her acclimate to society. Kara knows that part of the reason that they bonded was through their tragic losses. Kara had lost everything she knew, and Martha had just lost the love of her life. They leaned on each other to try to continue living. They talked about everything, but the thing that made her the most happy was Martha’s willingness to listen to her tales of Krypton. Clark avoided the subject like the plague, but Martha fully immersed herself. She listened eagerly through all her stories and a lot of the literature that the Fortress of Solitude had. She had also started to learn Kryptonian. She was at a beginner level still, but it made Kara’s heart swell that there was someone else with whom she could converse in her mother language. She couldn’t imagine another person in her life being taken again after everything she went through.

Kara went as fast as she could. She thinks that she broke Mach 5 which she knows will put her in the DEO and possibly the IRS radar again especially if there was property damage. However, Kara didn’t give a damn. She needed to make sure Martha was safe. When she saw the farm in her field of vision, she had to fight her instinct to burst through the door. She remembered how being rash just weeks before nearly led to her almost losing her and Barry’s life, and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to Martha. She flew around the farm while using her X-ray vision. She didn’t see anything unusual until she saw the house. What she saw caused her to go from being frighten to more confused than anything else. She landed as gently as she could on the ground (due to Martha going off on both Clark and Kara for leaving craters across her lawn) and quickly walked to the house. She looked under the mat on the porch to get the spare key and entered the house. She heard noises coming from the kitchen and followed them. Once she got there, she saw Clark in his Superman costume sitting next to an embarrassed Martha in a robe at the kitchen table.

She scanned the room and noticed that there were two long-stemmed candles in the middle of the table and two plates that had little bits of half-eaten food on them. Next to the plates were two wine glasses. One was empty and the other was a quarter of the way full. There were rose petals on the floor that led out of the kitchen into the hallway. If she had to guess, Kara thinks they probably lead to Martha’s bedroom. She then looked back and forth between Clark and Martha once more. Martha still looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die somewhere. Clark had an unnerving look about him. She had seen that look before when he was about to go into a rage. She can tell that he is holding back by the way he is gripping the table. Considering that it is made from nth metal (the strongest in the galaxy) and was starting to bend slightly tells her that something happened. She had a pretty good idea of what happened but didn’t want to assume.

Please let this idiot not have called me because his mother actually decided to have a love life.

She looked back and forth between them hesitantly and said, “Clark, you told me to come here because there was an emergency, but it doesn’t seem like there is one taking place. Was the emergency device activated in error or did something else happen?”

Clark stared at her coldly for a moment and said, “Since I brought you in, I didn’t expect much, but I damn well-expected loyalty.”

Kara looked back at him shocked, and said, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Clark sneered at her and said, “Don’t feign innocence with me. You know what you did, and I need you to terminate the contract you have with them right now.”

Kara looked at him surprised for a minute and then it dawned on her.

Don’t tell me this whiny bitch went to tattle on me to mommy.

Kara clenched her fist. She knew that Clark would get irritated. That was her goal, but she hated that Martha got dragged into this mess and ruined her evening. She took a deep breath to try to keep calm.

Kara forced a smile and said, “I am taking a guess you heard about my partnership with the hospital.”

Clark slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “You’re damn right! You took a job with the enemy!”

Martha looked confused between Kara and Clark and said, “I don’t understand. How is working at the hospital some type of betrayal?”

Clark turned to Martha with a disgusted look while pointing his finger directly at Kara.

“You always defended her saying that she came to Earth to do no harm and that we should trust her. But she has been working with the enemy this whole time.”

“And who exactly is the enemy?” asked Martha hesitantly.

Clark turned towards Kara and spat, “Lena Luthor.”

“Lena is a civilian who runs the local hospital for children in my area. There are no records of her doing anything nefarious or the hospital for that matter. She is not only smart but very kind-hearted,” said Kara lofty.

Clark smirked and said, “Oh, I thought that you were smart enough not to get sucked into the Luthor’s charm. They appear nice, but they are nothing but a bunch of vipers.”

Kara smirked and said, “I didn’t realize that you have a grudge against anyone last named Luthor. Doesn’t this go against the Almighty Superman’s policy about tolerance and acceptance?”

“They deserve nothing from us!” exclaimed Clark.

Kara raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you really going to let your hatred for one person spread to everyone else?”

Clark shook his head, scoffed, and said, “I knew that you would be unreasonable which is why I thought mom could talk some sense into you.”

He turned to his mom expecting some backup. However, when he looked at his mom, she stared at with with a rage in her eyes that caused his face to go pale.

“Mom, why….”

Martha held up her hand to silence him. He gulped and sat silent.

Kara had to stop herself from bursting out laughing.

Can’t believe he is such a mama’s boy.

Martha rubbed the back of her head for a moment and turned to look back at Clark with an angry glare in her eyes which caused him to back up a little.

“Let me see if I understand this. You forced me to hurry out of bed and didn’t give me a chance to put on any clothes because of some big emergency….”

“But mom…”

“Excuse me, did I say that I was finished speaking?”

Clark looked down and said, “No ma’am.”

“I thought so. You bring me out here half dress because you said that Kara was in some type of crisis and all of this is because she is working with Lena Luthor? You have known Lena all of her life. Where the hell is all of this aggression coming from?”

That last statement piqued Kara’s interest.

Kara frowned and asked, “Wait. Martha is making it sound like that not only have you known each other for a while, but you have at least been friendly towards one another in the past.”

Read the rest on AO3

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bwobgames · 1 year

Text

Previous First

"Remember what Owen told us? What we saw on the death certificate?

Mr. Díaz was so stricken with grief for the death of his wife that he asked, with all his heart, for one more chance

In doing so, the house was granted a purpose

Every time someone dies, they'll get another chance by going back in time

At some point, the doctor must've figured out the time loop mechanic and used it to his advantage in helping the patients and keeping himself alive past 100 years"

"This also must be why this house feels so... loved and warm. It was made as a way to protect people, to help them.

And then that bacteria of a man came and infected it"

"Wait, is there paper around here anywhere? And pencils?"

"There's a whiteboard around here, I think. Let me get it"

He finds one, possibly made for bets, or pool point counting. It has 2 markers.

Beebo grabs them and starts drawing

"So, Doctor Díaz, accidentally gives this house the ability to turn back time.

This house is now a 'Haunted House'

And who knows about Haunted Houses? Coli and his daughter.

Coli is obsessed with the concept. He investigates day and night trying to find one.

He wants to put his own purpose in one of them. He thinks he might be able to change the original purpose, but Nadia says it is not possible.

Still, after much effort, he finds one"

Beebo takes a deep breath

"An old... half house half art exposition.

The owner wanted the people who got in to ... never leave

Um. Not maliciously, i think! The owner just wanted his art to be appreciated!

But, um, the house took it differently"

"Are you okay?"

Ángel hold his hand

"Remember how much I told you about my recent phobia of big houses?"

"I... I got trapped in that house"

"I couldn't get out

The rooms. The rooms kept changing I couldn't- I was there for 3 days and- "

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I don't need details if it hurts you to tell me"

He grabs both of his hands and kisses his knuckles

"You are here now, okay? I'm by your side"

"We are okay"

They wait for a moment, just breathing.

Slowly, Oliver picks up the marker again

"I. I killed that house

I made it stop working

Then I asked for it to be demolished.

So now, the house Coli searched for so long is gone.

This why he invited me

And why he wants to kill me"

"After this, he tries to do his own Haunted House in his own factory, using the heightened emotions of the distressed workers.

Once the kids found out, they exposed him and put him in jail

"Due to Marigold not helping him with his projects, Nina being on her side, and the kids doing this, he believes they are all traitors

And wants to kill them

Then, he finds out about Vivi and you, the unrelenting reporter and the guy who bought the company. And puts you two on his 'to kill' list"

"Then proceeds to repeatedly fail in doing so. Skill issue, really"

"... I have been meaning to ask you about that.

Why did you buy his company? At first, I thought you were also a businessman, and that's how you got the money, but I'm guessing you got it from your illegal jewel business"

"Why a company?"

"Well, I've told you, haven't I? I quit heists and wanted to start a more quiet life, so why not become CEO? Those guys do nothing and get a lot of money. Sounds perfect!

But, ah, I don't think I'll keep it"

"Is the business life harder than expected?"

"It's definitely not my vibe, but mostly, I want to give it to Marigold. She's the one who should've had it since the start"

"Yeah, you're right.

I'm glad a life of crime has not skewed your sense of justice"

"And if I don't, I fear that a certain teenager capable of murder puts me in her 'to kill' list"

"Also, I wouldn't call it a 'life of crime', I used to be a normal man with a normal job and a pitiable salary. You can see how that makes someone like me want to get in a cool outfit and fuck around for a bit"

"Really? What did you work as?"

"Head of security in jewelry exhibitions"

"... you sly bastard"

"And never been caught"

"I could've caught you"

"Sure, sure, if it helps you sleep at night"

"If you ever try any heist again, I can and will catch you"

"Scandalous Detective Beebo! Do you want me to go steal things again??"

"Wh- That's not what I said!"

"Well, what a shame! I'm committed to a life of peace now.

I've found the prettiest gem already, and I get to keep it all to myself"

"What gem?"

"... You'll figure it out, come on, keep going over the investigation"

#part one of two #because i hit the maximum of pictures allowed #this man was just a normal guy who said I need more money and excitement in my life #time to steal in a silly outfit. Crime is all about having fun and being yourself actually #detective beebo #deleted scene of beebo being Oh wow that means hes strong. Oh wow

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tabswrites · 1 year

Text

Guardians of Eternity: Auras and Shadows

Magic System: Part 2

Link to Part 1

A/N: Most of the following information is subject to change as the story continues to develop. These are details that might not be known to the MCs.

ToL tag list: @writernopal @outpost51 (please ask to be +/-)

Tagging @writingmaidenwarrior for Part 2!

When Eternity first encountered mankind, it found that humans were incomplete beings. Each of them were ruled by either Heart, Mind, Body or Soul. When Eternity chose to grant the humans part of its light, it gave it to them in a form that would fit into the empty space within.

The Four Elements of Aura Magic:

Heart: This is the element of protection-yours and others. The most common abilities are:

Healing/regeneration

Empathic abilities

Shield projection

Communication with animals

Mind: This is the element of control-both physical and mental. The most common abilities are:

Transmutation

Telekinesis

Illusions

Mind control

Body: This is the element of adaptation-the ability to adapt yourself to the world around you. The most common abilities are:

Invisibility

Elemental manipulation (earth, air, fire, water)

Shapeshifting (rare for Auras)

Soul: This is the element ruled by the Shadows and is considered the combination of all elements. As those who oversee Auras and Guardians, it is possible to achieve mastery in multiple elements, but their unique abilities are:

Shapeshifting

Clairvoyance

Divine communication (able to directly speak with Eternity)

Shadow projection

Power negation (extremely rare)

Auras and Shadows typically have one primary ability, but with guidance and time can learn more. For the sake of not spoiling 45% of my series, we’re going to talk only about the MCs and their current abilities.

Adrin: At the beginning of the story, Adrin is ruled by his mind. He is overcome with grief, lost in memories, and makes decisions based on the wellbeing of others, not himself. When Eternity looked inside of him, it found what he was lacking the most was heart. His primary ability is regeneration.

Hettie: At the beginning of the story, Hettie is ruled by her heart. She spends her days focused solely on the happiness of others and mistakes the satisfaction she feels as happiness of her own. She has no desires, no dreams. Eternity gave her the power of the mind, so she can learn to develop her inner strength. Her primary ability is transmutation.

Oliver: A punk. At the beginning of the story, Oliver is also ruled by his mind. He has a lack of empathy for those without his privilege, is aimless and unable to overcome his past. He is currently in a state of uncertainty—Eternity is unable to decide if he is worthy.

Mara: At the beginning of the story, she is ruled by her mind as well (get out of your heads, guys). She allows her grief to consume her and lives her life based on the decisions of others. However, despite the darkness she claims to be shrouded in, she has demonstrated selflessness. Eternity has chosen her to be the one who walks between, as a Shadow. Her primary ability is shadow projection.

The Real Question-Why the pretty lights?

When Hettie and Adrin used their magic (Aura), they are surrounded by multicolored lights. Why? It’s literally an aura that is the physical manifestation of their magic. The colors have nothing to do with the magic itself-it is just a reflection of the soul within.

Adrin’s Aura is mostly orange, pink, indigo and white.

Mara is a Shadow so she…has shadows.

Hettie’s Aura is orange, yellow, pink, green and purple

(If anyone is curious, I do have notes about the colors!)

Limitations:

As the story goes on, the MCs will learn more about Auras and Shadows. This information is not currently known to them.

The Auras and Shadows are only strong as the source. If Eternity fades, they fade. In the current time of the story, Eternity is very, very weak.

No instruction/guidance: There used to be hundreds of Auras and Shadows to pass down wisdom and guide the newly chosen. This is how they develop more abilities. Without it, they’re are stuck. The soul companions (Irk, Cilla, etc.) can guide them in a certain direction, but they are very limited in their abilities and offer little by way of instruction.

They are limited by their elements. It is possible for an Aura to learn abilities from a different element, but there is a physical and mental strain. The more power they have, the less stable they are. Even Shadows have to be careful.

A secret and evil third thing

#silver sentinels #wip: tomb of light #magic system #world building

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screamingentity · 7 days

Note

Hello dear🌹

hope that you are well

Please help us,May God bless you 🙏

I'm Etaf from Gaza Palestine

I am a mother of five smart children.

speaking to you with a heavy heart on behalf of my family who urgently need help.

The war has destroyed everything we own.

It destroyed everything my husband and I built for these children.

Now we don't have anything, We do not have the price of rent, or education. We want you to contribute to open a project for my husband, please.

read and Share the link Private in my campaign

,My campaign has been verifiedBy Operation Olive Branch . 🌿

donate, not hesitate to do so and rest assured that God will reward you because we are in dire need of that. And share the link on social media that would be kind of you. May Allah make you happy all your life dear Thank you. 🙏

assalamualaikum,

i would love to help you but i am a young girl

i will try to help you but i do not know if i can

inshallah i can help you, and things will get better

inshallah you and your family will be safe

inshallah allah will grant you the highest level of jannah

inshallah you will stay strong

i may not be able to help

but even if i can't i will keep you and your family in my duaas

inshallah i can do something to help

inshallah you go to the highest level of jannah <33

#free palestine #save palestine #help palestine #help gaza #allahuakbar #please help

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selcaby · 10 months

Text

So I saw Wish today and … Encanto is going to stay my favourite Disney movie for the foreseeable future.

But I want to talk about the wishes, because I've seen people on here saying that they're lame or vague or just silly. And I kind of agree with that, but I also think it's part of the point.

Take Sabino's wish. He wished to inspire people, apparently with his mandolin playing. We don't know if he wished this when he was 18 or whether he arrived in Rosas later in life and gave up his wish then. But given Magnifico and Amaya don't look very old, I'm guessing they are both older than they look thanks to sorcery, so they could have been ruling since before Sabino was 18. So for the rest of this post I'm going to assume that's the case.

So when Sabino was 18 the dearest wish of his heart was to inspire people with his mandolin playing. And then he gave this wish to Magnifico for safe keeping and forgot all about it. His mandolin's probably been gathering dust for the last 82 years.

Yes, this is an excessively vague wish. But the movie knows that. Magnifico says it: inspire them to do what? And although you can argue he shouldn't use this as a reason not to grant the wish, he's also not wrong.

And this kind of wish? It's the kind I think the creative team would have made themselves. Think about it: they work for Walt Disney Animation Studios, that world-renowned dream factory. I assume they're happy to be there and have passion for the work they do. If you'd asked them at age 18 what they wanted out of life, they'd probably have told you they wanted to be artists, animators, writers, composers ... that they wanted to make art (of some kind, maybe movies, maybe not) that entertained and inspired people. Now imagine someone taking those ambitions away from them, so that they forgot what they even wanted. Would they be making Disney movies now? No, they wouldn't have bothered going to film school or learning animation or whatever they did to get to where they are today. They'd be doing something far less interesting, probably. I imagine them imagining that kind of alternate life and seeing it as a nightmare.

The tragedy of the situation is not that Sabino never had his wish granted. (He still doesn't have it granted in the movie. He just gets to remember what it is.) The tragedy is that by giving it up and forgetting about it, he lost the chance to make it come true by his own efforts. He doesn't regain that chance for another 82 years. That's a long time to live directionless and lacking the drive to be what he once truly wanted. I wonder what he did in the meantime. We know very little about his life, and I do think that's a missed opportunity.

What we got instead was Simon. He's the only one of the teenage posse to be over 18. His friends know that giving his wish to Magnifico changed him, and not for the better. He's become boring (and perpetually sleepy, which might be a sign of depression stemming from his lack of direction in life). His friends don't seem to know what his wish was, but it's not clear whether he just never told them or whether Magnifico's magic made them forget as well. Simon is there to show us what it (theoretically) does to someone when they lose the memory of their wish. I say theoretically because the kingdom still seems to be functioning pretty well, and most people seem unaware of the negative side effects of forgetting one's wish ... but I suppose these things are necessary for the story to work.

This actually reminds me of Delirium by Lauren Oliver, a YA dystopia series where, on reaching adulthood, everyone has a surgical procedure that "cures" them of the ability to love. Afterwards they enter loveless arranged marriages, put in the work to bring up their children purely out of duty, and spend their working lives in jobs they have no passion for, assigned to them by the government. The only people who see anything wrong with this are those who haven't had the procedure yet, or on whom it didn't work. The protagonist is a girl who accepts the system until, not long before she's due to have the procedure, she falls in love. I never finished reading that series, but one thing I liked about it was how it made the effort to show what a society without love could look like and how it could work. Wish could have done with more of that sort of thing.

The woman who has her wish granted? She wants to make the finest clothes in all of Rosas. Since she's going to make them herself, I'm not sure what will make them the finest; does her talent get a magical boost? Isn't that cheating? What's the point of being the best at something if you're not the one doing it? So yeah, I think that wasn't particularly well thought out. They had to show it happening once so we could see what it looked like, but they probably could have picked a better example. (In Encanto, they similarly had to show what it looks like when a child gets a gift the way Mirabel didn't. But they picked a good example: Antonio, who gets the gift of speech with animals, plus a magical room that's a forest full of animals, and who loves this, and immediately makes friends with a bunch of animals who hang out with him for most of the rest of the movie, and spends his time trying to use his gift in ways that might help people, including in ways that affect the plot. For example, his gift is the reason why the rats can rat out Bruno.)

Remember, the wishes don't all get granted at the end. Mainly, people get their wishes returned to them, so they can remember what they were and do their best to make them come true, if they still want to and still can. The queen doesn't grant that woman's wish to fly, but she does introduce her to a man who dreams of building flying machines.

And so what if they're the dorky wishes of teenagers? That's also part of the point. Without their wishes, everyone's development is arrested.

I could complain about how someone really should have seen the problem with this before Asha did, but I need to get off the internet and have dinner. This post is already longer and ramblier than I intended, but never mind; right now I wish for some food, and I'd better make it happen and not forget about it.

#wish #disney wish #wish meta

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