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ay0nha · 11 months

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Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander (III)

SUMMARY: You knew why he was on your mind. The sweater you wore was thick, not quite oversized, but spacious enough to remind you its fit was meant for its owner. Its scent exposed Theseus as the one to leave it beside the fresh towel his mother left on your borrowed quilt.

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, mentions of food/eating, angst, family dinner during the holidays, flashback, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, always a protective Theseus, SLOW burn, teenagers being dumb, **poets please don’t come after me, I tried my best with the haikus** , etc.

A/N: HELLO. This took me longer than I would have liked. This flashback is a filler, bleh. Rather than this sitting even longer, I figured I’d post! Next part, we’re getting into some Good Stuff. As always, thank you, @kalllistos . Comments are always welcomed. Enjoy.

PART I, PART II, PART IV

—YEARS PRIOR—

Your plate was full, everything delectably placed yet so unsatisfying. There were only so many times you could push the vegetables around until they fell back into their original place. Eyes were on you, and you knew you would have to feign your appetite, or the suspicion would intensify.

“This is delicious, Mrs. Scamander—” You hummed through a mouthful of food. You knew what you were playing at with the action—so eager to compliment you couldn’t wait until you swallowed. There was no doubt it was convincing, but you struggled to believe your own performance. “—Again, thank you for having me, I—”

“Nonsense!” She hushed you quickly, as she had every Christmas. The act was familiar, perfected over many years. “The holiday wouldn’t be anything without you.”

As the finale, you would wear a polite smile that would last until dessert; in between, you interjected, answering questions posed or even offering small insights into the topic. But you relaxed into your role too much, being caught in the eldest son’s gaze.

“What?” You held back a hiss despite his polite eyes. They were full of curiosity. You were too defensive to see how enamored he was, rather deciding not to be scrutinized.

His voice was quiet, knowing his extended family was prone to eavesdropping. Therefore, his words were clipped, “You alright?”

Even with the distance of the wooden table, you noted his voice was broken by adolescence. You would have noticed it sooner if you hadn’t avoided him so intently—the School Boy Hero. The name alone taunted you, reminding you of the success he would gain with ease and the distance that you had created. It was intentional, but it wasn’t exclusive.

Theseus was unfazed. Although there weren’t shared courses, he carved out time to find you. He greeted you like you weren’t the recluse of your younger year—as if you weren’t under the watchful eye of professors and students alike. It bemused you how one could smile so widely all the time. And now, he picked up on your act.

“I’m fine.” You tugged a smile for those around you. Despite the years of acquaintance, your presence at the Scamander family table still weighed on you.

You were eternally grateful for their hospitality and generosity. The Scamanders accepted you every year when your parents chose a getaway. However, each year, your childlike wonder at the decorations wore off. The reality hit you that you were out of place in their home, no matter how welcoming the family was.

He started again, pausing to determine his phrasing. “It’s just that you haven’t…”

“Theseus.” Mrs. Scamander started, warning humming in her throat. She always read you well. The best, really. “What was it you were telling me the other day?” The question was intriguing solely due to Theseus’ tense reaction as she turned to you. “He told me how well you’ve done with divination.”

Theseus’ ears burned, but his confidence stayed. You spoke before he could embarrass you further.

“Oh, well…” The moment was perfect for placing your fork down. You collected yourself well enough to appear bashful. “Theseus exaggerates.”

“Divination is—” One uncle started, suddenly being able to hear from the end of the table. “—not a profound subject, love.” There were murmurs of agreement, but you remained steady. “Focus on Ruines…”

“...Ancient Ruines is—” Another joined in, holiday intoxication booming with their words. “–far more valuable, well—” A bark of laughter. “–for everything! I—”

More piped in.

“If anything is—” Valuable, the sentence was finished by an echo of another. The overlapping conversation became unintentionally jovial, and attention shifted from you. “It has to be flying.” People nodded at the practicality of the suggestion. “I was always good at that.”

You grew tired of their critical haikus. The envy of a large family had left you. It was a constant dream to have open arms around you that provided everything unconditionally. But that was a facade, a liminal space only explored in literature and even more complicated in reality.

“She has an aptitude, actually.” Theseus’ voice carried well, too well. “Shouldn’t that be celebrated?”

The table responded with silence, their young family member no longer meekly looking for attention. Family dinners required debates.

“Of course!” Mrs. Scamander raised her cup to you, winking with tenderness. The action alone told you enough; once it was just adults in the room, her words would be as sharp as the knife in her hand. “I wish I had such talent.”

Mrs. Scamander was an intentional person. She knew the power of the topic she chose and remained purposefully quiet. She took in how Theseus’ demeanor confirmed her suspicions of his growing fondness for you. It was plain as day, but due to your ages, she knew the ignorance of mutual feelings would guide everything. More importantly, though, she was able to see how Theseus simmered with a maturing defiance that she was delighted he grew into. Further proving she had raised her son right.

You valued his comment. Oddly, it made every pea on your plate worth it—something of a smile emerged in private amusement. Theseus stewed, but it dissipated being privy to it.

—

Your fingers were stiff from the cold. You cursed the winter and how it made you physically fumble for the months it endured. It was as though your body rejected how it influenced you. Yet, your mind was made up long before the leaves started to fall.

You were leaving.

The plan was formed with caution. You prided yourself on your caution. It was a skill you inherited despite your parent’s apathy. The middle of the night would be far too obvious, expected. The sweet spot was when even the troublemakers would be sleeping when the sun rose with an icy fog that would cover you.

You’d finally be—

A knock made you jolt. You were able to slip away for a breath before the celebrations continued. There was pushed aside the guilt that flooded your stomach with the soft ask of entry.

You debated ignoring it, pretending you’d fallen asleep, but you’d already said yes.

Theseus drew the short straw of a rigged game. You missed his gait when he turned the hallway to find you. You curled further into the thick sheets as your only form of resistance when he finally entered the room.

“...been sent to get you.” He snacked on the sweets in his hands. He swallowed them in one go to continue his objective. “They’re threatening charades.”

“You’re letting the cold in…” There wasn’t a whine attached to your words, but there may as well have been. Thankfully, Theseus read through your words to find their instruction. It beckoned him closer after you heard the confirming click of the closed door.

Although the room was Newt’s, you always had a knack for filling the space you occupied. With the bed pressed against the window, the illumination of the Christmas lights was only to your advantage. You looked beautiful.

The butterflies in Theseus’ stomach were more like birds. Most likely crows, highly intelligent, and sent by you. You’d been off, secluded, despite the company surrounding you. Yet, he couldn't miss how your posture straightened at his presence. Those crows fluttered with pride.

“I had a dream about you the other night…” Your mouth was hidden behind your clothed arm. Your voice was muffled as you looked out the snowy window, but Theseus clung to every word. “A premonition, really.”

“... surprised your subconscious let me linger.” He teased, hands finding solace in his pockets.

You knew why he was on your mind. The sweater you wore was thick, not quite oversized, but spacious enough to remind you its fit was meant for its owner. Its scent exposed Theseus as the one to leave it beside the fresh towel his mother left on your borrowed quilt.

“Go on…” He encouraged you, not letting the silence seep too deeply. He learned its repercussions.

“It’s hard to describe.” You mumbled. You hadn’t regretted bringing it up, but you wished you chose something else as a justification to talk to him. “You were just there…” You said, confused at the feelings elicited by the admission. “We were talking like we are now...”

“Surely the conversation was more enthralling…” He knocked lightly. Theseus glided up beside you, shoulder fitted against yours, a comfort given.

“We were older.” You had to suppress a yawn at the memory. You were so tired, you weren’t sure if you could trust your own remembrance. “I didn’t recognize myself, but I knew it was you—your hair was longer, but it was…you.”

Even in your dreams, Theseus possessed a natural grace, a simple elegance, an understated presence. Tall and slim, he moved slowly, like a giraffe. His voice was both husky and calming. His eyes gave a sleepy appearance, and they fixed on you in such a manner that it was impossible to look away when he was talking to you. And when he reached to grab at your sleeve with those—

“What did we do?” He hummed, more intrigued.

You couldn’t tell him the truth, especially with the wide-eyed wonderment he wore. So he guessed. His age showed in his theories. In his mind, the two of you were clowns performing in front of a crowd or waking up late for O.W.L.S.

As they became more elaborate, you fell into a haze. Theseus was older now, in his final years of school. His face had matured, but youthfulness clung to him well. Theseus was boyish, and your dream confirmed he always would be. You struggled to accept how desire spread through you.

“Am I close?” His question felt like you had been splashed with ice-cold water.

“Not quite.” You said after a beat. You could feel a fear starting to smother every single trace of happiness that was rushing through your system just a moment ago, and you swallowed thickly, digging your fingernails into your palm.

Yet, the guilt wouldn’t stop you from your plan.

Through the fog of absolute fear, your mind managed to notice a tiny detail. You could claim Theseus could have no understanding of your desire to disappear, that he was one of the most privileged boys in the school who never thought or met many consequences, but it didn’t change one single fact:

Theseus Scamander, whether you wanted it or not, knew you well. Perhaps better than anyone. But above all else, you couldn’t help but be curious, looking at him so pointedly as he spoke. Would his lips still taste like those sweets? He was close enough to find out.

Just once.

Just the once couldn’t hurt. Could it?

“We had sex.” You blurted your words as if it would quell your thoughts. As someone who prided themselves on emotional maturity, you were flustered.

There was no reply save for a subtle retexturing of his breath, the gap between inhalations infinitesimally smaller, the length of his exhalations protracted.

“It’s a joke.” He said as if he’d forgotten. His face always got splotchy when he felt uncomfortable. Theseus scratched at his brow, then tinkered with a few curls that had gotten too long.

You stared at him for a moment, that light in your gaze growing soft, before you took a deep breath, looking down at the string you found between your fingers. He even understood your poorly timed, poorly executed humor.

“I don’t remember the dream, really.” Lying was becoming second-hand nature. It worried you, but only enough to settle with half-truths. “We were looking for something…Something that was…” You concentrated. “Important, I think. But it was too foggy to make anything out.”

Theseus was already looking for a solution, willing to white-knuckle it through anything.

“You knew where we were, though.” You hummed your words like a compliment. “You guided us through the fog like you’d been there before.” The truth tumbled out of its own volition. “...Like you knew it was the only place you could truly hide.”

You saw a flash of distinction across his face.

No, distinction was the wrong term. Recognition, rather.

Theseus wanted to speak before you did. You wanted to beat him to it. Yet, your names were called by a distinctive voice that reminded you both of the awaiting festivities.

“C’mon—” Theseus held out his hand, using his strength as a counterweight. “—they’re waiting on us.”

“And if I want to run away?” You mused with honesty, being pulled until you staggered into him.

“Can’t that wait? I’m quite good at charades.” Theseus said, shooting you that crooked grin of his, the one that you suspected had gotten him out of trouble multiple times.“You can run away after—promise.”

#q #theseus scamander #theseus #scamander #theseus scamander fluff #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander angst #theseus scamander x f!reader #newt scamander x reader

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months

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Be My Little Darling - Chapter 8

Chapter 7 Chapter 9

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Angst. Oral (male receiving) Soft Loki, use of magic, and heavy mentions of survivor's guilt, negative self-talk, violence.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. When you arrive to open the club, you find Loki in his office. You intended to help him, but nothing ever goes according to plan when dealing with the God of Mischief.

Word Count: 4,311k

Masterlist

A/N: WHEW! This drained me LOL. In a good way, I slept like a baby after this. This is definitely one of the heaviest things I've released into the wild. Also, sorry babes! I'm going on vacation next week so no new chapter next week. I was going to try and type something up and save it as a draft, but no go. Too hectic at home. You can definitely use this chapter to tell me your theories! Who do you think the saboteur is? When will Y/N give in? Can Loki's patience outlast Y/N's stubbornness??? Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @cantstayawaycani @braverthanthenewworld @monaeesstuff @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance @soft-persephone @mybonafidefeelings

It was no secret that you had trust issues. You did not trust how quiet it had been from the saboteur. You did not trust that the person just gave up their reign of terror. You didn’t care for the silence. Every shadow was the saboteur. Every delivery had an air of doom.

You were on edge and it made the others on edge as well. It had been a few quiet weeks since the last surprise from the person out to hurt Loki and by extension, his club. And you realized that the more you thought about it, the more the person won. This was what they wanted. For you all to cower in fear, jumping at shadows and mistrusting the person next to you.

Fuck that. You knew every person here. Inside and out. You were not going to go on a witch hunt. Loki wanted to, desperately. It took all of your concentration to keep him at bay and keep the club running smoothly.

You looked over your notebook, running through the calendar for the evening. You were due to have a large party in the Helheim room. Your heels echoed in the quiet space. You liked to arrive early and have a bit of peace to yourself before the hustle and bustle started. You were able to collect your thoughts for half a second, before the complaints started.

You ran through the list of special requests. You rolled your eyes. Those were always fun. Not. Loki promised decadence and your every fantasy fulfilled. That translated to entitled assholes who thought that they could treat the waitstaff like personal servants and entertainment. You grabbed a pen from your pocket to make a note for yourself. You had to talk to the waitstaff and bartenders to cut the party off if they got too rowdy. You’d deal with the consequences.

You passed by Loki’s office on your way to yours. The door was propped open. You put your hand on the cold doorknob ready to close it when you peeked inside and saw Loki sitting at the desk. He was rubbing his jaw and staring down.

You knew he’d sense you in a moment but for a brief second, you watched him. You watched the angles and lines of his face. The sharp turn of his nose, his downturned mouth. His jacket was off and hanging over the edge of his chair. The sleeves of his black shirt were pulled up revealing pale flashes of his forearms. His long, delicate fingers were clenched in a fist.

He looked like a statue made real. One of those old statues built long before your time that decorated the palace where Loki resided. The ones that were carved from real artists. Who turned cold, unyielding stone to breathing moments of life. The humans on Midgard had similar statues in their museums.

The kind where detail was paramount. Fingers dug into skin, clothes were draped just so, and faces held that serene pain you often found on Loki’s face when he thought no one was looking.

You pushed into the room. Loki didn’t stir. You walked up to the desk.

“Loki?”

Loki took a deep breath as if you roused him from a dream. “Darling,” he said. His voice was deeper and raspier than normal.

“Have you been here all night?” You asked.

His desk was littered with paperwork. His once neat desk was cluttered and haphazard. It was so unlike him that you stared at it in shock. You looked back at him. His hair was dry and lifeless. It hung on his shoulders but there was none of the ethereal otherness to it.

“Has the morning passed already?” He did not sound like your Loki. He sounded tired and unfocused.

“Did you sleep here?” You looked around the room and noticed that his couch remained untouched. You made him keep a blanket draped across it for decoration purposes but also in case he wanted to take a nap. He thought you were joking. He could just conjure one up. But why waste the effort?

“Sleep would imply that I closed my eyes and rested. I assure you, no such luxuries were forthcoming,” he said. He rubbed his eyes and you crossed behind the desk to get closer to him. You grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

You cursed softly at finding his eyes red. He smirked at you. At least the bastard hadn’t lost that.

“Worried for me, Darling?” He asked.

“This is what the saboteur wants.” You looked around his desk once more. Sure enough, there was the card he found on top of the ale delivery. He glanced at it too and his frown returned. You turned him once more to look at you. “They win if we let our guards down and obsess. This is no way to live. We’re constantly on the defensive.”

He smirked once more. “That’s why I spent the evening reviewing security measures. Whoever this person is, they know how to sneak past them. I planned to add more today.”

“You need to go home and get some rest. You’re no good to anyone like this,” you said.

“Is that an invitation?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “If I take you to bed, it will be with your full faculties. Not…whatever this is,” you said. Even you knew to tread lightly. You’ve seen Loki on rough days. This went beyond rough.

Loki looked…defeated. Which was impossible. Gods weren’t defeated. Certainly not your dark prince. He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. He spread his legs, one knee bent and the other thrust in front of him. His office chair was his throne and you were a lowly peasant seeking an ounce of mercy.

But damn if he didn’t look delicious. Damm him. Sleep-deprived looked good on him. Everything looked good on him. He sat there as if he were ready to entertain noblemen or hold court. The dark circles under his eyes gave him an roguish air.

“If you take me to bed?”

“If,” you confirmed.

“Don’t you mean when?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean, Loki,” you said.

“And you don’t deny what has been said between us. I say you’re mine and you’ve yet to correct me,” he said.

You pursed your lips. Was he right? Had you never denied him when he claimed that you were his? You thought back to your recent interactions and you realized with a start that it was true. You never corrected him. A slow grin crossed your face.

He held up a finger. “Don’t try to start now. No lies between us,” he said.

Your grin faded. Irritatingly enough, he was correct again. There was no use lying. While you weren’t quite ready to say the words, you were his. No other man did it for you. No other man consumed your waking thoughts and your dreams.

You sighed and crossed your arms. “Off to bed, Loki. Alone,” you added before he could come up with another dirty remark. He chuckled and looked you over.

You wore your signature fishnet stockings and form fitting dress that hugged every curve you had. It stopped mid-thigh but rode up with every movement. You stood with your boots crossed at the ankle and Loki took his time looking you over.

The heat in his eyes must match yours. A pillow appeared at Loki’s feet. A plush black pillow from the looks of it. “On your knees,” he said.

“You can’t be serious,” you sputtered. It was one thing to ogle each other. But he had been up all night obsessing. You stood up straight and glanced at his still open door.

“I never say anything I don’t mean, Darling,” he said with a smirk.

Your lips parted as he threw his words right back at you. You bit the inside of your cheek. Indecision froze you to the spot. It was getting harder to resist him. Harder to not give in and say the damn words.

You woke up feverish now. Every night this past week, you woke up in a pool of sweat with dark images of Loki floating through your mind. You dreamt of him in between your thighs, wringing pleasure from you as a musician plucked music from a violin. You dreamt of his lips on your neck. His breath in your ear.

Your night clothes stuck to you now as you woke up drenched in sweat and arousal. Always, you were denied. As if he commanded your dreams as well. That he would not let you have one ounce of peace until you gave in. Until you surrendered. And you were running out of excuses to say no.

It was maddening. This sick twist and pull between you. But you couldn’t stop. Found that you didn’t want to stop. You liked driving him crazy. You liked that he drove you crazy. He was consuming you inside and out. It would be too easy. Far too easy to grovel.

“I won’t repeat myself, Darling,” he said.

His office had a window behind him. The sun rose on the opposite side so there was only ambient light slashed across his features. It highlighted the shadows across his cheeks and his nose.

You bent at the knees and he tsked. “Slower,” he said.

You walked closer and then looked at him in his gorgeous crystal blue eyes. You kept eye contact as your hands slid over his knees. His thighs. Two can play this game. He’ll not dominate you completely just yet.

You used him as a crutch to sink softly to your knees. The pillow was incredibly soft. Like kneeling on marshmallows, the funny little concoctions that humans made. You stayed up right, blinking at him.

He smirked and reached out with one hand to trail his fingers across your cheek. You nuzzled into his warm palm. It smelled like him and whiskey. He trailed his fingers over your lips.

“Please me, Darling,” he faintly commanded.

You leaned forward and unzipped his pants. You pushed it down far enough to free his hardening cock. This, this you could do. You could please him and remain your own person. You were his in all but that. You could not give all of yourself to him. Not when he was incapable of doing the same.

You watched him and his expression didn’t change. Oh but his eyes. His eyes were narrowed, cataloging everything that you did. You smiled at him and your tongue darted out to catch the single drop of precum beading on the tip of his cock.

You trailed your hands up and down his dick, trying to learn him. Learn his sighs and hints of encouragement. You alternated increasing pressure and letting go to learn what he liked. You’d done this before but it was like you did it for the first time again. He smirked at you when you got it right and the thrill of pleasure went down your spine.

He widened his stance when you bent your head down and took him into your mouth. He sighed as you slowly licked him up and down. Last time was a frenzy. A desperation to get as much of him into your mouth as possible.

This time, you were able to tease him a little. To lick the underside of his dick and enjoy the way he jerked in his seat. He chuckled. “Remember Darling, whatever you do to me, I do in kind,” he said.

You paused as you thought about just how badly you wanted to tease him. But that meant that he’d only tease you back. And he was infinitely better at it than you were. It dawned on you that you may never best him. Never beat him at his own game. He was always a step ahead. Planning, plotting, scheming.

You let him go with a wet pop and used your hand to stroke him. Perhaps you can’t win. But you’d enjoy trying.

You grinned evilly and put your mouth back on him. Sucking in the salty, heady taste of him. More pre-cum flooded your mouth and you greedily sucked it down. Loki was not selfish with his pleasure. He hummed and cooed whenever you did something he liked in particular.

His moans made you go faster, take him deeper. You took him anyway you could get him at the moment. You sucked and licked and slobbered all over him. Chasing his pleasure and taking none for yourself. It wasn’t enough to satiate the burning flame inside of you. It would never be enough.

You needed him inside of you. You burned with the ache every time you went to bed. There were moments when you were finally alone in your office and you indulged in the fantasy of him not needing those stupid words. Of him getting so worked up that he just stormed into your office and took you right then and there.

Your panties were already flooded. Soaking through with each swipe of your tongue against his tip. Distantly, you remembered that his office was still open. The thought of nearly getting caught made you take him deeper than before.

Loki groaned and stroked your cheek. Your hair was pulled back this time, so there was nothing for him to move out of the way. Instead, he gripped the back of your neck and pulled you down faster. He drove his hips up to meet your eager mouth.

“My precious Darling, fuck,” he moaned. “You’re so sexy with my cock in your mouth,” he said.

You made a noise but it was muffled by the slide of his dick in your mouth. Your gagging filled the quiet office.

“That’s all it takes, is it? My cock in your mouth? My cum down your throat?”

His dirty words made you wetter. You were pitifully mistaken. You thought one more taste of him would hold you over? That it would quench the need inside of you? You had no idea. You would never get enough of him. Never.

Your hands were braced on his thighs for leverage. But since he took over fucking your mouth, you moved one hand up to fondle his balls. He groaned deeper, a rumbling bass in the back of his throat like thunder on the horizon.

You played with him, giving him just enough pressure to give you that look. The look that said he’d fuck you into the ground if he could. He’d swallow you whole if he could. He’d consume you from the inside out and not think twice about it. He pumped your head faster.

Your jaw ached but you didn’t care. You wanted his pleasure. You sucked harder and he yelped. Hot splashes of cum coated your tongue and you swallowed him down. He shoved one last time, hitting the back of your throat and making you truly gag this time. You coughed around his dick and he released you.

He caressed your jaw, your cheeks. He placed kisses around your sweaty forehead, your lips. He licked himself off your tongue and groaned. “I like the way I taste on your lips,” he murmured.

You kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair. It was still smooth, though dry, but you just liked touching him. Being connected to him. The thought alone chilled you to your bones.

Loki sensed the change in you. “What is it?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said. You heard the panic in your voice. Try as you might, you couldn’t will yourself to calm down. It was a stray thought, nothing more. So what if you liked touching him?

So what? Only that you wanted to keep doing it. You wanted to crawl into his lap. No, you wanted to crawl deeper. You wanted to climb inside of him and live there. You wanted his heart. You wanted his desperation. You wanted his obsession. You wanted his rage. His passion. You wanted to dance in the flames that burned within him. And it scared the ever living shit out of you.

“Don’t pull away from me. What is it?” Loki gripped your shoulders and shook you. You shook your head. Words were clogged in your throat. You gripped onto his forearms to keep from flailing around.

Fear jackhammered inside of you, pumping your heart painfully against your chest. You needed air. You needed away from him. You never ran in your life, but today was a day of firsts. You pulled away from him but he held onto you.

“Tell me!” He yelled. “Tell me what happened!”

“Let go,” you said through clenched teeth.

“I swear by the gods in Valhalla…”

“No!” You thrashed and slapped at his shoulders. You didn’t want to hurt him. You just needed away. Time to collect your thoughts. Sex was muddying your mind and he hadn’t even been inside you yet! You needed time to rebuild that wall.

Loki grabbed your face and made you look at him. He made you see him. In return, he saw you. His eyes softened as he gleaned what you didn’t want him to see. He had no right to see.

“Fuck you!”

Loki leaned down and kissed you, pressing you into him and not leaving you room to escape. “You have to feel it, Darling. You have to,” he said. He pulled you into a hug. Your arms were trapped against his broad chest.

Still you struggled and bucked like a wild horse. “You have to feel it,” he said. His breath fanned across your ear.

You didn’t want to feel it. You liked the icy interior of your heart. You liked the cage you set it in to keep from feeling everything too much. The minute you opened it, the minute you let it free…it hurt too fucking much.

Loki held on to you. His arms were like a cage around you, encasing you. Your hands fisted his shirt. You wanted to shove him away. You took ragged breaths, your face crushed against his chest.

He wasn’t letting go. You couldn’t win against him. Not by strength, not by wit. It was futile to try. You slumped against him. A keening whine leaving you. Tears stormed down your cheeks and ruined his shirt. The dampness spread and plastered against your face.

Oh gods…it hurt. All of the ways that you tried to keep it in these past five years. The way you neglected yourself. Became a version of you that your siblings needed but didn’t appreciate. All the ways you stepped up to the plate, taking on more and more responsibilities.

You collected burdens like a child collected seashells. The more you took on, the prouder you felt. You were handling it and handling it all without a problem. You bragged about being overworked. You bragged about not having a life outside of work and home. Look how responsible you were!

You liked that you clapped yourself on the back. It was a thankless job looking after your siblings after your family was gone. The bouts of fatigue were just because you worked too much. Not because you were grieving. Silly little feelings like that didn’t apply to you. You didn’t get to grieve.

The moments when you first woke up and were disappointed was harmless. Everyone experienced that. The moments when your heart seized, thinking back to the look on Thanos’ face. How he split the ship in two. You were shoved on one side with no idea what was going on.

You would stand there, frozen. Clutching your chest as if he had killed you instead. You didn’t deserve to be there. Yet every day, the alarm sounded. You got out of bed. You did what needed to be done.

You took this job to care for your siblings. You worked your ass off to earn more, do more, be more. To be useful. As long as you were useful, you could buy time. Time to find your family so that they could take over. So that they wouldn’t need you anymore. So that you could finally repay the life debt you owed them.

A soundless scream left you. Loki rubbed your back, whispering something you couldn’t hear. Didn’t want to hear.

It felt selfish wanting him. You had no right to him. No right. Your life was not yours. You were living on borrowed time. You were a placeholder. Holding space until you found your family. It wasn’t right, receiving pleasure.

Things like laughing and kissing for the hell of it weren't for you. Things like running your hands through his hair, your heart soaring knowing that you made him smile, trading witty banter. All of it. You didn’t deserve it.

“Yes, yes, you do,” Loki��s voice penetrated the deep fog you descended into. Had you said it out loud?

Loki called you by your real name. You knew that he knew it but he only used it once, when you first introduced yourself. To hear it on his tongue was too much to bear.

You sniffled and he leaned back far enough to look you in the eyes. “I ruined your shirt,” you said. Like you ruin everything else. Your makeup, snot, and tears stained his shirt. You’d have to take it to get cleaned.

Loki growled and a beam of his magic passed over him, erasing your filthy fluids. “It’s just a shirt. I can make a hundred more.” He wiped your tears away, his thumbs passing right below your eyes.

“You know it wasn’t your fault,” he said.

You shook your head. It was your fault. You stood on the wrong side of the ship.

“Eyes on me,” Loki said. He waited until you finally blinked up at him. “It was not your fault. I was there too. I mourn for them too. You’re here because the gods willed it so. Because I will it so.”

“Loki,” you whispered. Your voice was rough and it burned with every inhale.

“No. Haven’t you punished yourself enough?” He asked.

“It’s never enough,” you admitted. “Nothing feels satisfactory,” you said.

“You keep moving the goalposts for satisfaction. You create impossible hurdles for you to cross. And then blame yourself when you can’t see the end in sight,” he said.

Fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t know how to stop,” you said.

“I know. I know,” Loki said. He smiled at you. What a mess you probably looked like. You came in here with your armor intact, bossing him around, and ordering him to bed. But you were the one sobbing on the floor, stripped raw.

“Let me in and I’ll help,” he said.

“It’s not fair…”

“Let me worry about how I choose to spend my time, Darling. I choose you. I choose your burdens. Your sorrows. I am a god. I can carry it,” he said.

You sighed and wiped your face. There was no use fighting him, so why bother trying? You nodded. Gods help you, but so far he hadn’t let you down. He was there. Day and day out just like you were.

He already had so much to deal with. Now you were one more thing added on. On top of the stress of dealing with the club and the saboteur. Guilt ate at you like a vulture pecking a carcass. How could you even begin to repay him?

Loki placed one last kiss to your lips. He lingered, his soft lips against yours. Sounds started to filter in from the club. The employees were starting to arrive. Loki kissed your forehead and released you.

You missed his arms instantly as you got to your feet. The pillow disappeared and Loki zipped himself back up. He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. “We’re not done, Darling,” he said.

“I know,” you said with a deep, wonderful sigh. The kind of relief that came after a good cry. Or a good fuck.

Shrill screaming tore your eyes away from each other. You passed a hand over your face and your makeup was pristine one more time. Besides a few wrinkles, no one would be able to tell what occurred here.

You and Loki left his office and raced down the hallway. Honey stood outside of her assigned room and screamed and screamed. Why was it that she was always in the middle of it all?

You turned to the room…except the oppressive heat of the Helheim room greeted you. What the hell?

You checked adjacent rooms and it was more of the same. The rooms were all switched around.

“Motherfucker!” You screamed.

Again, acidic guilt soured your gut. While you were busy crying like a baby, the saboteur struck again. Just waltzed in without a sound. And switched entire rooms around.

On the outside of the room that Honey and a few other employees gathered around. There was another card. Loki plucked it from the wall and flipped it over before handing it to you.

“Vengeance,” was all it said.

You were going to find whoever was doing this and you were going to rake them over hot coals. You were going to find the nearest frost beast and help curb stomp the evil, vile coward.

Magic burned beneath your skin, ready to become any weapon you chose.

“They will find that vengeance is mine,” Loki said. He was uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes locked with yours. “It’s ours,” he said.

You nodded and handed him back the card. Damn right it was both of yours. There would be no hole to crawl into, no hell to flee to, no cave to hide in, that you wouldn’t find them and erase them from existence.

Count your fucking days, bitch.

Masterlist | Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Loki Files #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Black reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x Fem reader #loki x plus size reader #Loki x reader #x Black reader #Loki x You #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Marvel smut #Marvel Loki #Loki fanfic #Loki fan fic #Loki fan fiction #Loki fanfiction

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spinningalbinoturtle · 8 months

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Where they like to shop-LOTR

Frodo- the bookstore obviously. He especially likes to support indie bookstores but if need be he will resort to Barnes and Noble. Always tells himself he will only get one book and walks out with ten (he always gets at least one for Sam) He likes artisan markets and boutiques and loves a vintage fashion store. He also can spend several hours in any yarn store.

Sam- the nursery! He goes through the entire store and every greenhouse very thoroughly. Usually comes out with a dozen new plants. Similarly enjoys the hardware store. Always has some landscaping project going on. Loves a good open air food market or little family run delis. Loves a good spice selection. Cannot go into a cookware store without buying something.

Merry- Merry of course loves the weed store. He also likes to shop for fancy wine. I get the sense that he would like shopping for nice suits too. He’s got a good sense of style. Loves to go to touristy shops and get the weirdest thing there. He does collect city mugs. He also collects the weird paintings at Goodwill which he will hang up in his parents house without telling them.

Pippin- Pippin is kind of an impulse buyer. Pretty much any store he enters he will buy something in. He spends way too much money at Target (“they have everything Merry!”). Is big on seasonal decorations and will always buy like the giant Halloween things that jump out at you and massive amounts of Christmas lights. Also has an absurd amount of ugly Christmas sweaters.

Gandalf- like Merry does spend quite a bit at the dispensary. Likes a good woodworking shop. Likes to buy unique carved pipes. And of course spends over a thousand dollars at the fireworks stand.

Aragorn- his main shopping destination is the feed store. Buys all kinds of shit for his horse. Is a loyal REI customer. He always buys the really good quality stuff for backcountry camping. He knows more than the employees there about what is a good brand to get and will happily assist other customers who assume he works there. He also likes to go shopping for Arwen and will usually get her some beautiful piece of jewelry or a really really nice handknit sweater.

Gimli- man loves the hardware store, loves his power tools. Likes to hang out in the lumber yard much to Legolas’s distress. Comes home with a bunch of rocks and woods that he builds stuff with. Also likes to jewelry shop and admire all the nice gemstones- he has an excellent eye and will often go with Aragorn when he is shopping for Arwen. He likes handcrafted stuff from wood, stone, and ceramic and likes to support local artists. Always on the lookout for a good bargain at the hardware store but willing to dish out quite a lot for something unique and handmade. Knows good craftsmanship when he sees it and likes to support other craftspeople.

Legolas- accompanies Gimli and Aragorn to the jewelry store and always manages to convince Gimli to get him something despite having plenty of his own money. Loves the plant store and samples all the edible and some non edible plants. He can legitimately spend a couple of hours at the wine store. Will go to fancy wine tasting events with Gimli. Fashionista man will happily spend an afternoon walking through the high fashion district where all the attendants know him. Similarly an expert Sephora shopper.

Boromir- like Gimli loves the hardware store they run into each other there and end up chatting for like an hour. Loves a good appliance store. Chats with the Best Buy people while picking out a new fridge. Is very particular about getting good quality shoes so he goes to like really nice shoe stores. Absolutely loves a furniture store-will always be on the lookout for a good sale there.

Bilbo- antique store expert! Wanders around until he sees something he likes. Buys a lot of nice antique furniture. An expert clothes shopper-he usually takes Frodo with him who doesn’t mind cause Bilbo pays. Bilbo will exclusively go to second hand bookshops and buy the super rare things behind the locked glass. Also likes to go look for nice rugs, blankets, and linens. Does love the cooking store and usually offers to pay for Sam there (Sam always declined when he worked for Bilbo but once he and Frodo got married he let Bilbo buy him stuff).

Eowyn- shopping for weapons. This woman has a massive sword collection its honestly kind of scary. Also likes the hardware store and the home improvement. Generally she’s not really a big shopper - she really only buys something unless she needs it or as a present for someone else.

Faramir- Faramir loves the pet store. Totally an animal person and has like four cats and two dogs and like a couple guinea pigs and maybe a turtle. Buys so many pet accessories. Eowyn thinks it is cute but ridiculous. She has to remind Faramir that no they do not have room for any more animals-yes not even that gecko- every time they go into the pet store.

Arwen- loves going high end fashion shopping with Legolas. Is really into nice fabrics and weaves so likes to shop for things like fancy tablecloths. Loves a good shoe store. Also a big fan of hat shops. Gondor is a lot brighter than Rivendell so she wears lots of hats to keep her eyes shaded. Starts quite a few fashion trends this way. She also likes to shop for art-especially paintings and statues. She often attends art gallery events and almost always buys something that will be priceless in a few years-she has the money she’s a queen!

#lotr #frodo baggins #eowyn #sam gamgee #aragorn #merry brandybuck #boromir #legolas #pippin took #gandalf #faramir #gimli son of gloin #bilbo baggins #arwen undomiel #lotr headcanons #samfro #legolas x gimli

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ficsnroses · 2 years

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—𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝑳𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒂 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓—

prompt: on a warm summer evening, lalo invites you to spend the night with him in his home for the very first time. you learn of his distaste for sleep, however, you might be able to make it a little easier.

warnings: all fluff! slight sm(u)t mention. spoiler free! 2.3k words.

notes: hihi! this is my first time writing for lalo literally if even 1 (one) person reads this I will be happy lmao. please lemme know what you think!

an: there isn’t a lot of bcs fanfic out there, and it seems lalo x reader fics are even more scarce. if you give this a read and enjoy, please consider reblogging, sharing or interacting! I’m pretty new to the bcs fandom, it would be nice to make a couple frens:)

(also, this entire fic takes place in that one scene from s5 ep 10 where lalo is sitting outside by the fire. we’re just gonna pretend nacho isn’t there and the events that follow never happened, okay? okay.)

It begins with warm brown eyes.

Warm brown eyes, a crisp white dress shirt, and a smile you swore would someday make you ruin.

They say whoever the Devil smiles at becomes his favourite.

The first time you’d been introduced, he had looked at you with a far too wide, far too gleaming smile. That salt and pepper gray streak, titan shoulders and rippling biceps under delicate, exclusive cotton.

Lalo Salamanca looked rather more of a sinful, dark promise than a man.

And then he’d raised your hand in front of everyone, and kissed it.

Lalo Salamanca could not seem to stop smiling at you.

You’d gazed at him for a long moment, your greatest attempts to gauge his sincere expression. There was just something about him. Soft, smooth rasp in his voice, yet a glimmer of unnerving interest in his eyes. Something warm, something that almost seemed…wicked.

But it wasn’t.

The most compelling of the Salamancas was just that. Petrifyingly efficient in his field. Lethal to others, but never to you. A seamless collection of careful contradictions you couldn’t seem to unravel. One simple smile from him and you’d swore.

The angels themselves would sin for him.

The unholy force, the mountain of a man that is Lalo Salamanca seemed to melt away when he was with you. Left behind would be a softer, warmer entity. Eduardo Salamanca. A man for whom it hadn’t taken long to fall in love with the sweet sound that is your voice.

They say the Devil looks after his own, cradles them with his hands packed of sin.

You’d drowned willingly.

Open Chihuahua city sky bleeds tonight. Dim, a sea of stars decorated in its hair.

The scent of Night-Blooming Jasmine electrifies through you, a gentle breeze kissing supple skin. Huele de Noche, is what he’d said they call it.

Mexico is beautiful this time of year— Lalo keeps home near his heart, revered deep within its seams.

He’d begun to keep you there, too.

The embers of an open bonfire glow before you in the distance, and you see him lounged on a long chair near it. Crisp, cold Modelo cracked open, and a carve of tension lines constrained to his forehead. Quiet, subdued.

He carries that fire in his veins.

Its not long before you make yourself known.

Lalo had invited you over tonight to spend the evening with him. A shared bottle of red and home cooked meal. Candlelight had danced over his features, and you’d admired the delicate dips and slopes of his face; the laugh lines that pepper roots to the corners of his eyes.

Sooner than he’d anticipated. Frighteningly fast, even. It hadn’t taken long for you to become his favourite remedy, his preferred tonic.

You’d spent the latter half of the night within the haven that is his bed. Clung together in the evening dark, no longer sure where he ends and you begin. He’d made you his, in more ways than just one.

There had been such a light in his eyes as he learns your body and explores. Traces, kisses, and claims. You’d begun to learn a familiar truth—one that brings you simmering comfort.

You will never be scared of Lalo. Bloodcurdling to others, but never to you.

He carries that fire in his veins.

But it was you, who could turn it to soft, running water, even if just for a little bit.

You’d fallen asleep to the feel of his arm loosely hung over your waist, and the subtle heat of his breath on your skin.

You don’t know when he’d departed, lonesome in the company of none but a crackling fire, and the quiet melody of nighttime crickets bustling.

It doesn’t take long for him to notice you.

A mere look his way, and something inside you seems to crumble. Soften, hitch, crumble.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Your lips curve a gentle smile to his greeting to you, and its not long before you begin an amble his way. Lalo’s stare never wavers as he watches you attentively, the light of the fire glistening in those familiar cocoa depths. Your voice is calm, soft in the midnight dark. “You’re not coming to bed?” you voiced softly, footsteps approaching his resting place.

His hair is messier. You wonder if he’d ran his fingers through it as he sat here.

It was nice to have you in his space. To do what lovers do, to keep you among the other elements that are a gateway to his heart. Things such as this often hadn’t come easily to Lalo; part of him had still been unsure.

Unsure, but always eager to learn.

You could hear a hint of tire in his buttery voice when he answered. “Nah, I don’t get much sleep.” He mutters, gesturing you a seat to the spare chair beside his. “Did I wake you?” Lalo questions in caution, and he regards you critically as you take seat alongside him.

“No,” was your quick interruption, strained smile to accompany. “I woke up and…noticed you were gone.”

He hums slightly in response, a buzz brewing easily through the deepest pits of his throat. For a long, tense moment, he was silent, before throwing his head back slightly, a gaze to the night sky above. “Yeah, I never sleep much.” was his deep voice, slicing through you as if a wave of comfort. “An hour, maybe two.” He muses simply with a shrug, voice lax as he looks at you again. “It’s enough.”

They glow faintly, his eyes. As if two lone, remote stars shining in the sky. The intensity, the regard coupled in those brown eyes of his causes something to bloom in your chest. Something familiar, something…

Warm. Something that kisses the very marrow of you.

Your lips part, and your smile falters slightly to his simple confession. A small frown tugs your lips down. “I don’t like that, at all.”

There was a flicker of something in his expression, his lean figure resting coolly in his seat. Mexico nightlife hums around you, and a tingle races down your spine noticing the way his eyes gloss over your gentle features. Heat pulses beneath your skin, and your honeyed whisper almost seems to catch him by surprise. “I wish you’d take more care of yourself.”

Or, let me.

Lalo is silent for moment. A long, drawn moment. So much so, that your gaze drifts back on him. And, you find him already gazing at you. There is something exceedingly human about him in this moment, something fragile, kind, indulgent.

Its not long before you feel his larger, callous hand shift. It envelopes your smaller, softer one. Tenderly, he laces his fingers with yours.

Lalo’s hands were far from clean. They’d held guns and knives but now they also held you. You feel the sound of his voice wash over you like the rays of the sun, and suddenly, you long to give him your entire heart. everything within it.

Lalo leans back slightly in his chair, continuing softly when you too, curl your fingers around his. “When its like this, that’s when I can think.” was his faint murmur, eyes closing slightly as he breathes in deep, a lightness exhilarating his lungs. He exhales it from somewhere deep inside his chest and your heart seizes for a second.

There is a newfound ease in his tone, previous tension of his profile melting away. As of late, your mere presence is enough to calm the simmering strain, the heaviness burning away in him. It is new, this feeling you give him. New, comforting, soothing, dangerous. You are dangerous.

You, with your easy smiles, thoughtful yet understanding eyes.

You are slowly becoming his weakness. His heart, or, whatever little he ever did have of it, has begun to remember you far too often. Lalo’s fingers tighten slightly as they hold yours, and his voice illuminates. “I get my best ideas when everybody else is asleep.” The warmth of his skin pulses through your hand, and your head tilts after a moment of silence. “Some people, they call it a curse. I like it.”

Physical closeness is one thing.

But this?

This— listening to him, having him listen to you. It was in the way that his thumb gently coaxed the soft skin of your hand. The way his eyes meet yours every now and then and he really looks at you. As if he is looking into you, perhaps into a little part of you that only his eyes could see.

Physical closeness is one thing. But the intimacy that you’ve begun to explore, this trust you’ve begun to build with Lalo is all the more enriching.

Its an easy silence, the one that follows. The kind that soothes you to the bone, etches into the very marrow of you under the weight of his gentle gaze.

Repose looks good on him. Restful, easygoing repose.

He looks unfairly handsome tonight.

And perhaps, there is an ache in your heart when you remember such peace does not come so easily to this man you’ve begun to adore. The mere sound of his rich voice has begun to ignite a plea inside you, despite your greatest attempts to smother it.

Perhaps you’re failing to realize just how dangerous your captivation with him truly was. Or, that this captivation had morphed into affection far sooner than you’d hoped.

And his had, too.

Lalo Salamanca is dangerous. You know little of his affiliation with the cartel, his business and professional proceedings. Yet you do know.

Know of the sinister that lurks in the mere presence of his name.

But you know of the other side, too.

The side you only ever saw around family. The patient, low tone he’d always use with his tio Hector. His regard for his staff, how fiercely loyal he is to the Salamanca name. How eagerly he was prepared to protect those closest to him.

How when he touches you, he does so like he is marvelling at each touch, as if he is lucky to do so.

He is a harmony of cold and warm. Of light and dark. And you wish to thaw into him, willingly.

Its not long before you acknowledge his genuine confession. “Hm.” was your quiet, deliberate hum. Prompt and simple.

Your eyes lift to his.

And it doesn’t take long for you to rise promptly, a gentle screech below when you seam your chair closer to his. Close enough, that they’re joined. And you’ve never treasured a lack of arm rests more.

Relaxing back down on your chair, you move in closer. So close to him, that its not long before your arms are wrapping around the expanse of his bold torso, and you feel the muscles of his skin ripple below shirt fabric.

It almost catches him by surprise.

You curl effortlessly into him. And realize, your body moulds into him with ease.

And when your cheek presses against his chest, resting over the broad skin, you allow your eyes to slip shut for just a moment, as you breathe in his timbered scent.

He doesn’t respond right away. Only his slow, steady breathes do. And perhaps you’d felt it, too.

The way his heartbeat spiked when you melt into him.

He’d been reluctant at first, features hardened and you could sense the strain in his body.

But then, he did it, too.

Slowly, carefully, cautiously.

Its earnest, when a pair of strong arms curl lazily around you like irons. And suddenly, he is painfully aware of the way you ease into him. The way your hair rests upon his chest, the way your body clings to him so nonchalantly.

In his arms right now, you are free. It is not a sense of possession, but belonging.

He allows himself the foolish gratification of your embrace, the simple warmth of your skin. An indulgence.

Like a string being cut.

And it feels far nicer than he would care to admit.

“I like sleep.” was your mild tone, barely above a whisper when you admit easily. You savour the moment, soaking in this softer, warmer side of the man who has begun to claw his way into your heart. “Makes me feel…at peace. At ease. Safe.”

Something he had begun to make you feel, too.

You feel Lalo relax into your touch, and the deep lumber of his voice electrifies through you when you feel it roll up his chest. “Can’t argue with that.” Was his simple return, and the way his thumb begins to coax the soft skin of your arm as he holds you causes your heartbeat to spear.

Maybe someday it could be true.

Right now, it is new. This feeling is new, your connection is new. Yet perhaps someday, you’ll feel it in his touch.

An unwillingness to be parted from you.

You think you do feel it now, too. When his arms tighten ever so slightly, and he sighs.

There is a moment of suspended silence, and you simply hold each other. It almost catches you by surprise, when he presses a soft, slow kiss into your hair, keeping his nose buried in it for a moment as he lingers.

“Tu seras mi muerte.”

He murmurs the words carefully in the centimetres separating you, his hold on you never faltering.

You didn’t understand what they meant. But he, did.

It might as well be a prayer.

He might as well be damning you.

And with them, the crackle of the fire becomes nothing more than a pulse, and your thoughts become nothing more than a beat along with it.

You savour each other under an open Mexico sky a little longer. From hunger to honey that drips, the man in your arms is a seamless collection of careful contradictions you couldn’t seem to unravel. And it would take time, the unravelling of him.

Yet for now, this feeling is enough.

Lalo’s eyes slip shut.

Your heart skipped a beat that night.

Or perhaps, two.

#lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca imagine #better call saul fanfic #better call saul fanfiction #better call saul #Tony Dalton #lalo salamanca fanfiction

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orangecatty-shiningnikki · 8 months

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【 Shining Nikki TW+CN 】

Exclusive Collection

【 Shining Nikki TW+CN 】

Exclusive Collection

Mid-Autumn Festival 2023

The dust shakes off traces of the past, and a few strokes outline a mother's short life.

My mother only wished that little Zilang would have a safe, happy and prosperous life, even if she could not be found in his future.

Suit Display ::

Original :: Rúyì Xiāng (如意香)

Recolor :: Wū Xuěníng (乌雪凝)

Collection :: Exclusive

10th Exclusive • Mid-Autumn Festival 2023

Yanxia Cave Sky • 煙霞洞天

Designer :: Yueniang (月娘)

Rarity :: SSR

Attribute :: Sweet

Date :: 27/09—09/10/2023

Type :: Recharge

🌿🌿 Design Concept 🌿🌿

Yueniang has a very precious jade Ruyi, which is soft and shining, warm and clear.

It was given to him by his mother when he returned home from the temple fair that year, which represented his mother's caring heart.

Following the guidance of jade Ruyi’s soft light,

Yueniang is in a dilapidated goddess temple near Cangyi,

Shaking off the dust of time,

Opening up a corner of cloud history,

It also pieced together my mother’s short life.

🌿🌿 Design Hilight 🌿🌿

The ink hair is like clouds, flying lightly, and the clothes are dusty, which is quite ancient.

Heavenly clothes are as light as nothing, often giving people an ethereal feeling.

Then decorate it with gold and jade beads, and hold it warm in your palms to pray for your wishes.

May God bless you and may all living beings be free from illness and disaster.

#Exclusive #Recharge #Yueniang #SSR #Sweet #闪耀暖暖 #閃耀暖暖 #Shining Nikki #Nikki 3D #Nikki Up2U 4 #Nikki 4 #Orangecatty #3D Dress-Up Game #Nikki Diary Thailand #2023

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stranded-labyrinth · 1 year

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i was going to start this as a joke, but you know what? i'm serious about it now.

yes, i am going to ask you to imagine Will and Hannibal playing Minecraft together.

it gets brought up in a session by Hannibal, who has it on his tablet since another patient kept talking about it, and he figured he would take a closer look to understand what they were telling him. he immediately sees it as an opportunity, a calm thought experiment that couldn't be taken as manipulation.

and so, he asks Will to create a world with him, asking the question, "In a world where you could do just about anything, free of real world consequences, what would you do?"

Will, of course, takes to fishing and collecting tamed wolves. that was to be expected. it was also to be expected, if difficult to watch, when he cried after one of his wolves burned to death in lava.

Hannibal soon finds himself building their home, since Will would often forget that he does actually need to try to survive in this game. Will gets caught up in other tasks, collecting raw materials for the two.

Will smacks him away when Hannibal tries to take down the dirt hut Will built. it would seem Will was rather sentimental about many things in this game.

Hannibal is entertained that Will seems reluctant to slaughter any of the farm animals they've procured in-game, even for the sake of food. Hannibal, of course, takes up the butchering, and most of the food-based crafting recipes. he almost constantly asks about Will's hunger bar.

Hannibal knew by then that people often did horrid things in this game, tormenting villagers, spawning loads of animals into a confined space, etc. he wondered what acts of cruelty Will would eventually do in this game. it becomes difficult to imagine, though, when Hannibal's in-game character gets smacked by Will for even accidentally hitting an innocent creature.

Will exclusively slays the monsters the game has to offer. he finds he has a difficult time killing Endermen unless necessary (as in, he accidentally looked one in the eye and they rushed at him immediately), as he's become rather fond of them. they hate eye contact as much as he does.

eventually, Hannibal has built the two a beautiful home, as decorated as he could make it. Will thought it was hilarious how luxurious Hannibal had insisted on making it, as though he couldn't even thrive in a video game without living in a mansion. he does find himself a bit flattered that Hannibal took the time to try to mesh the two's tastes as best as he could, even in a game.

the little world went quiet when Will was away in the BSCHI.

during a session with Bedelia, Hannibal admits to still feeding the little tamed wolves Will loved so much. Will wanted his real dogs taken care of, he would want these ones cared for as well.

when Will returns home, Hannibal logs on, wondering if Will went to his virtual happy place. the virtual happy place they'd made together.

Hannibal finds the entire manor he'd built aflame, most of the blocks long vanished after burning away. a distance away, Will's wolves are safely kept in a dirt hut that's been there since the first day.

he logs off, acknowledging the message. "the light of friendship won't touch us for a million years," Will had said to him before. he does wonder what Will is going to do with the little world.

Hannibal finds himself checking back on the world daily, and discovers no change. he decides to place a single poppy flower where the manor used to be, a flower that he knows to symbolize consolation, remembrance, death, and hope for a peaceful future.

a week later, the day that's always meant to be Will's session with him, Hannibal opens his tablet to find that the world has been deleted.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #stranded-writing

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tineymang · 2 months

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i finished doing an updated reference of my explorers of sky team!! these guys live rent free in my head i like them a lot (some fun facts under the cut because i have too much to say about them)

circuit

was found by mello passed out on the beach, with no memories other than their name, and the fact they were once human…

had the scars on their horn and fin from the moment they woke up on the beach, and never figured out why they had them until they went to dark crater

the main navigator and also the cartographer of the group! they carry the wonder map with them, along with a feather pen and paper for mapping out the floors of mystery dungeons

was originally always the leader, but often now they will switch between themselves and mello depending on the situation

came up with the team name! they think it is very cool and nobody else except for mello agrees.

has a habit of rushing into fights without thinking, so they often need to duck behind mello for cover when things get dicey

only stores light things in their bag, like their paper and a few healing items in case of an emergency. they will also often hold onto items that need to be delivered to clients so they don't get mixed up with other equipment

they offered to carry mello's bag once and were immediately squished by it, and now they are permanently banned from carrying anything heavy.

mello

formed a team with circuit after the two joined wigglytuff's guild together

a lighter color than most mudkip! the 'splotchy' or spotty patterns she has are also a common trait of water types, possibly because it helps them blend into the water more

her gills are curved and her head fin is longer than normal, which causes it to fold over because of the extra weight. these are only aesthetic differences, and don't affect anything about their functionality!

keeps track of the job requests, usually has a bulleted list she keeps on her. likewise she also keeps an eye out for the items and/or pokemon they need to find in dungeons

has a fascination with all things ancient and mysterious. she has a growing collection of aged books, even in subjects she doesn't have much interest in.

also enjoys collecting various odd objects, and souvenirs from the places she's been! she decorates sharpedo bluff with them.

originally carried the bulk of items they found in dungeons, but after luna joined mello now only carries equipment (orbs, scarves, etc.), while luna carries treasure (boxes, poke, etc.)

one of her favorite hobbies is reading, she finds it's a good way to wind down after an exploration. recently, she has taken up journaling as well.

stripe

met circuit and mello when they explored sky peak together, and she joined the team soon after!

grew up in a colder climate, hence their extra fur

trained at marowak dojo following her joining the team, in an attempt to match the levels of circuit and mello. her brown bow is from marowak!

handles inventory management, took over for circuit who did it prior. she insists she doesn't mind, she finds it satisfying to do.

doesn't speak very often, except to people that they're comfortable with. because of her easygoing nature, she's often the first one other members of the team come to for advice!

has their own home where they live by themselves, but they stay at sharpedo bluff enough that they consider it their second home

one of her favorite spots is spinda's cafe, they enjoy sitting down and crowd watching. mello likes to join her sometimes!

stripe exclusively holds onto healing items like reviver seeds, so they're able to quickly grab one if someone is in a pinch.

mana

joined the team after they came to sharpedo bluff to return to the place they hatched!

has the same kind of splotchy patterning as mello! this is only by pure coincidence, though.

circuit and mello are very protective of mana following their illness when they were young, but they insist they are able to handle themselves.

has the occasional mischievous streak in which they find it entertaining to intentionally scare their parents. i wonder who they get that from…

being the most recent recruit to team epic squad, mana is still figuring out exactly where their specialties lie. but that doesn't mean they're not trying their best!

never quite figured out who exactly it was that left mana's egg alone in the middle of the ocean. circuit has some strongly worded things to say to them if they ever encountered them.

they view mello and circuit as their parents, and walrein is more like an uncle to them. they still see walrein on occasion when he comes to visit treasure town!

carries no bag, only their defense scarf. circuit and mello worry about them straining themselves, so they will usually not bring any items with them.

luna

joined the team after the fight at dark crater!

really not a fan of the team name, but also trying really hard not to be rude about it. she will often refer to it as 'team epic' for short.

not used to having casual conversations with pokemon, so she often will come across as stilted when speaking. instead of names she will default to referring to a pokemon by their position (ie the kecleon brothers are shopkeeps, chatot is head of intelligence, etc)

because of how long she's been around, she has a knack for spotting rare or unusual items! she is not particularly good at estimating monetary value, however.

having trouble figuring out how to relax now that she doesn't have to focus on thwarting any world-ending plots. the rest of the team has gradually been working on getting her to loosen up more

enjoys the company of the future trio, celebi in particular. they like to discuss "legendary pokemon things", as celebi puts it.

has reasons for joining the team beyond finding the work of exploration teams fascinating. she has not told anyone what those reasons are, though.

carries all the various treasure the team finds! she has a liking for any especially shiny objects.

also as a bonus for making it thru the fun facts heres the old reference i did of team epic squad (around 2021 i think??) which this one was a redraw of! (and i also added luna)

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd eos #pmd 2 #rotom #mudkip #furret #manaphy #cresselia #mang doodles #my junk #too many tags..... i didnt know what ones to use #i think this is the first time ive posted abt them but ive had these guys for a while #i updated my desktop tumblr theme recently and i added a gif i made of circuit and mello in the corner... the guys ever #also its a lil hard to tell bc both circuit and mello have blue and orange in their color schemes #but their respective accessories are meant to match the colors of each other!#circuits bow is color picked from mello and mellos band is color picked from circuit :]

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