#reminiscent of a certain other drawing i made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youryanderedaddy · 4 months

Text

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

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

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

#yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere dragon #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

1K notes · View notes

bella-goths-wife · 24 days

Text

“Soft” moments with yandere velvette

Warnings: abusive dynamic, power imbalance, mentions of readers death, mentions of drug use, more a look into pets past, mentions of breakdown

“Pet” velvette called out with an irritated tone as she stormed down the hall to your room “you better have a good fucking excuse for being late”

She threw your door open but is stopped in her tracks at the sight of you.

You were curled up into a ball in the corner of your room with your hands covering your ears and your face planted firmly between your pulled up knees.

She observed your clearly panicked state more carefully and took on the sight of the bruising around your neck and the small burn markings on your wrists. You had clearly just undergone one of voxs less intense punishments, but still enough to send you into one of your episodes.

“Are you seriously crying again” velvette asks with a sigh as she walks over to your curled up figure “always bloody crying, messes up your makeup every time and that’s some good quality shit I picked for you”

You remained quiet and all velvette could hear from you was your hysterical sobs. She rolled her eyes and gripped your chin to make you meet her eyes before slapping you across the cheek with less intensity then usual but still enough to leave your cheek stinging.

“Snap out of it” velvette demands harshly “you look fucking ridiculous”

As you try and pull yourself together and stop the crying, the hand that she had just smacked you with comes to cradle your other cheek with a certain gentleness that only came from velvette after she inflicts pain.

Desperate for any connection or comfort, you unwillingly lean into her hand like a dog who wants you to be pet. And she provides as she traces the musical markings embedded on your cheek with her thumb and you lean into the warmth of her palm.

“Get up” she commands with a less harsh tone, but still a command all the same “you can’t work looking like this, you look fucking pathetic”

You nod and like a dog, you hop to your feet as she guides you to the bed and sits you down. She then goes to your desk and opens the draw that contains all the makeup she bought you when you first started working for the Vs, she had claimed that you had to look the part even when alone.

She brings some products to the bed and sits cross legged across from you as she readies them. She gives you a silent command to sit and face her.

The position made you reminisce of when you would sit across from a friend when you were younger and gossip about the boys and girls from school. The entire situation felt quite childlike as velvette begins to apply concealer to your bruised throat and face, like how your friends would apply makeup on each other and pretend to be grownups.

Velvette looks at the markings around your throat that had come with your demonic form with distaste, she always found them a somewhat grim reminder of your death. She also noticed the irritated skin around it that had come from your constant rubbing of the area before putting concealer on it.

“I’ve told you to stop bloody rubbing your neck” velvette exclaims with a sigh “it’s already an eye saw, you don’t need to go and make it more noticeable”

“Sorry” is all you replied as you felt her smoothing the concealer into your skin

Velvette eyes you for a moment with a suspicious gaze. She knew that you rubbed the skin around your throat constantly because of the looks it gained you from your coworkers, but she doubted that it was the only reason.

“Do the models talk about your marks” velvette asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to test you “do they make comments”

You look up in some kind of shock that velvette was capable of showing concern, even if it was phrased casually.

“Sometimes” you say with a nod as you feel velvette moving on to a different part of your makeup process, you suppress a flinch when the brush makes contact with your bruised eye

“What do they say?” Velvette asks curiously as she begins to apply your eye makeup

“Just stuff about my death, they ask weird questions about it” you admit with a grimace

“What kind of questions?” Velvette asks with a raised brow

“They ask if I can take my head off, or if I can twist it round like a dolls head” you admit with a sigh “or they just make comments of how unattractive it looks”

“They shouldn’t say anything to you about looks, you beat them all when your having a good day” velvette scoffs out and you blink in shock at the unexpected compliment, but she quickly backtracks “plus they all shoot up to stay skinny, that or they’ve had so much plastic surgery that they could go on a recycling bin to advertise”

You flinch unknowingly at the mention of drugs, but velvette clocks on to it and decides that she’s been too sweet for too long and needs to remind you of your place as a pet.

“No offence darling” she says with a sickly sweet condescension “I know you were a bit of a junkie when you were alive-“

“I wasn’t a junkie” you cut her off quickly and her mocking smile falters for a moment as she glares at you “I only did drugs at parties or raves-“

“And it got you and your friends killed” velvette interrupts with a mocking smile “sounds like classics junkie behaviour to me”

“No-“ you go to speak but your cut off

“Non junkies don’t get their heads taken clean off and end up in hell” velvette states firmly with a smirk “but you did, and that makes you a junkie sweetheart”

You silently glare at her but a metaphorical tug on the leash makes you stop as her glare reminds you that you hold no power in this relationship.

“All done” velvette states with a gleeful smile as she pulls you up to the mirror to reveal to your bruises covered up and makeup reapplied better then ever “I wasn’t given much to work with, but I always end up making you look like a masterpiece”

She lets go of you and makes her way to your door before turning to you.

“Now hurry up and get ready for work, you’re already late” Velvette states with an annoyed scoff

You nod as you go to grab your stuff before velvettes voice stops you.

“And darling” she says to you with a smirk “put one of your collars on, no one wants to be depressed by your little markings”

You just sigh and nod as she leaves.

You obey and grab a collar that you think she’ll approve of, one with her colour scheme and a golden V at the front.

It only served to remind you that you’ll always be a puppy either seeking comfort or an escape from her wrathful ownership.

Tag list

@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @perkypeony @buttercupfangirl @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @hazbinhotelxreader @sparkleyfishies

227 notes · View notes

leonanette · 8 days

Text

Is anyone else a bit disappointed that there weren’t any History and Lore videos released with Season 1 of House of the Dragon? I feel they missed an opportunity to go more in depth on the Great Council of 101 and the lead-up to it. I don’t think the History and Lore videos have touched on Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s reign too so that’s another missed opportunity.

I would have loved to see videos about:

- Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen narrated by Viserys and/or Daemon, maybe with a few fond reminiscences thrown in.

- Daella Targaryen narrated by Aemma in a sad tone and ending with something about the burden of bearing heirs.

- Aemon Targaryen narrated by Rhaenys (who can maybe tell us what happened to Jocelyn Baratheon).

- The history of House Hightower narrated by Otto or Alicent (maybe mentioning that they married into the Targaryens before but neglecting to mention that it ended badly).

- The history of House Velaryon narrated by Laena, Corlys or Laenor, maybe pointing out all the times they married into or assisted House Targaryen over the years.

- Saera Targaryen - but I’m not sure who should narrate that one. Maybe, Rhaenyra in a tone that sounds almost impressed or Alicent in a scornful tone, drawing unfavourable comparisons between her and ‘certain other princesses’…maybe, both at once, adding some comedy with their passive aggressive arguments.

- Rhaena ‘Queen of the West’ Targaryen - just give me a video on Rhaena, I don’t care who narrates it!

What do you think? What other History and Lore videos do you wish the HOTD crew had made?

68 notes · View notes

use-your-telescope · 4 months

Text

Together by this Christmas Tree

Summary: The Avengers have an annual tradition of a Secret Santa Gift Exchange, and Theo’s life becomes a real life Hallmark Movie when she draws Loki’s name and has to get him five days of gifts. Because shopping for a god and a prince, especially one that you have a massive crush on, is easy, right?!

Author's Notes: HELLO AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! This is a one-shot set in the WEMTBB world with our favorite sorcerers, however you do not need to be caught up on (or even have started) WEMTBB in order to enjoy this story! For those of you who are reading WEMTBB, this takes place in the future, when these two are in their “mutual pining idiots” stage; you will absolutely spot some easter eggs, but there are no major spoilers here.

This is for @sarahscribbles Christmas Collection, because I’m strolling in five minutes late with Starbucks for Christmas by posting this the day after Christmas. If you're a regular reader of WEMTBB, I am still planning to update it on Sunday (12/31).

Content: Absolute tooth-rotting fluff, Secret Santa, LOADS of mutual pining, Wanda being a very supportive friend, some pranks along the way, Loki in multiple sweaters, and lots of Loki getting the love, kindness, and attention he deserves.

Word Count: 8,104

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

—

When Steve first made the announcement, at the end of a mission debrief, Theo swore he was joking.

The idea of the Avengers making a point to celebrate Christmas seemed a bit strange - beyond the fact that there were two Norse Gods on the team, it seemed presumptuous to assume everyone else was Christian.

Theo’s feelings about the winter holidays were, at best, ambivalent. Sure, she liked the holiday lights, and she was a sucker for a good holiday song. She enjoyed showering her niece, Katie, with presents - after all, what kind of auntie would Theo be if she didn’t absolutely spoil her niece? And any time Theo could visit Mémère for longer than an hour or two was a blessing in its own right.

But the holidays also reminded her of the family she lost, and being the single friend at every holiday party got tiring (especially when her well-intended friends kept trying to set Theo up with people that Theo had absolutely no interest in). It had reached a point that Theo often volunteered to work the holiday shifts, as chaotic as they were, just so she had the excuse to avoid awkward gatherings.

However, when the other Avengers lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the announcement of the Secret Santa gift exchange, Theo kept her mouth shut. She was still relatively new to the team, and it wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to workplace celebrations for holidays she didn’t celebrate.

But of course, this was a group of superheroes celebrating, so it wasn’t a basic Secret Santa; no, of course not, because nothing about them was basic. It was five days of secret Santa.

At least the rules were simple: each person drew the name of another Avenger. Then, you had to give the person whose name you drew a series of gifts with clues about your identity leading up to the final day, when you would give them a gift and a final clue. Then, each person would try to guess who their Secret Santa was. Regardless of whether or not they figured it out, each person would receive one final gift, something a bit more special.

Steve closed the announcement by informing the group they would draw names the following Monday, and would have approximately a month to pick out gifts before they completed the exchange. A certain buzz filled the air as everyone left the conference room, with some reminiscing about funny moments from past exchanges, while others pondered over who they might end up with.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that Theo had the foresight to ask if the Secret Santa exchange was meant to replace getting everyone their own gifts, or if it was in addition to getting everyone their own gifts. Wanda, ever the MVP when it came to explaining unwritten Avengers’ rules to Theo, explained that it was in addition to getting everyone else gifts.

Theo spent the next two days praying she would get someone easy to shop for - after all, she already had to get gifts for a dozen Avengers, plus her hospital colleagues, and her family. She wasn’t sure that she had enough mental capacity to figure out gifts for someone she wasn’t as familiar with.

Of course, some deity had it out for her, because she drew Loki’s name.

Loki, the prince and ‘most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms,’ who could buy or conjure pretty much anything he wanted in the snap of his fingers.

Loki, who, besides being Theo’s best friend among the Avengers, happened to be the person Theo had a massive fucking crush on.

It wasn’t like anything would ever come of the crush - Loki had a firm rule that he did not date. He had no interest in relationships whatsoever. It was a tidbit of information Theo learned early on in her tenure as an Avenger, amidst a conversation about the love lives of the Avengers as a whole. Loki would spend one night with someone, but never allow it to become an ongoing thing - in his words, “everyone has certain needs to satiate, but courting someone is no interest of mine.”

So, despite Theo’s unbidden thoughts of channeling her inner hallmark movie to reveal her feelings to Loki, she needed to figure out how the hell to navigate getting him Secret Santa gifts, a normal gift… oh yeah, and his birthday gift, because that was a week before Christmas.

Inevitably, once they finished drawing names, Theo immediately dragged Wanda down the hall by the sleeve of her red hoodie and into Wanda’s suite, since it was closer than Theo’s.

“What’s going on?” Wanda half-laughed as she closed the door and glanced, worriedly, at Theo, who had started to pace the room. “Are you okay?”

“I need your help with Secret Santa — What the hell do you get someone who could have anything they want for Christmas?” Theo flopped on Wanda’s bed with a dramatic sigh, her mind reeling with how to handle her predicament.

“That depends –” Wanda answered slowly, eyes narrowed as she approached Theo. “Why do you think they have everything?”

“Because he’s a prince and a God who can conjure anything he damn well pleases with the snap of his fingers!” Theo tossed her arms up in the air, gesturing exasperatingly at nothing.

Nothing - just like the ideas she had for Loki’s gifts.

Nothing.

“So you have Loki for your Secret Santa?” Wanda sat down beside Theo, smirking at her.

“Yes!” Theo buried her face with her hands. “I had a hard enough time figuring out a birthday present, and I still haven’t figured out what to get him for a normal Christmas gift! But now I also have to give him a Secret Santa gift?!”

“Gifts, plural.” Wanda reminded her, smirk widening into a rather evil-looking grin. “Remember, it’s a week of lead-up to the final gift, because the goal is to try and have them guess who it is.”

“FUCK.” Theo let her arms drop to her sides. “This isn’t fair—“ she whined, earning a poorly stifled laugh from Wanda.

“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s the only one who is hard to shop for,” Wanda attempted to sympathize, but the giggles that slipped out as she replied did little to help. “Can you imagine having to buy gifts for Tony?”

“Simple, get him booze.” Theo scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows.

Wanda rolled her eyes and adjusted her ponytail, one auburn lock falling aside to frame her face.

“Look, half the fun is writing the little cards that go with each gift to give the person clues about who the gifts are from, and then trying to figure out the identity of your Secret Santa,” Wanda pointed out. “Besides, other than Thor, I’m willing to bet that no one knows Loki as well as you do!”

“That only makes it worse,” Theo complained and flopped back a second time, rolling over to bury her face in Wanda’s burgundy comforter. “Because I know he’s a picky bitch and nothing will be good enough for him.”

The snort that came out of Wanda did nothing to ease Theo’s concern, but it sounded ridiculous enough that even Theo laughed.

“I think that he’d like any gift you give him, simply because it’s from you.”

“That’s cliché as hell.” Theo pressed herself up enough to look over at Wanda, who, despite Theo’s whining and dramatics, still wore a small, knowing smile.

“And true.” Wanda shrugged. “You are, without a doubt, his favorite person on the team, and probably on this planet.”

“Yeah, for all the good that does me.” Theo grumbled to herself, but sat up all the way. “It’s not like I can tell him on day one that I’m his Secret Santa, so the gifts have to be good. No, they have to be perfect.”

“You’re overthinking this.” Wanda chuckled softly, then rose to her feet and held out a hand for Theo to grab onto. “How about we go shopping and see what is out there? Maybe you’ll get some inspiration that way.”

The petulant child within Theo wanted to complain for a bit longer about her predicament, but deep down, Wanda had a good point. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to get out and clear her head before the inevitable descent into holiday madness.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Theo accepted Wanda’s hand and allowed her to pull Theo onto her feet. “I need to get gifts for my family anyways, so maybe i’ll knock it all out at once.”

“Only if I can help you pick out gifts for Katie,” Wanda winked at Theo as she opened the door.

“Deal.” Theo didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Do you have plans for this afternoon? I’m not working, so we could go today…”

Wanda held up her purse and grinned. “Let’s go!”

—

Shopping with Wanda, unsurprisingly, proved to be a fruitful venture.

Sure, the pair went absolutely wild with gifts for Theo’s niece. Would Max kill Theo when he saw just how much stuff Theo got? Absolutely. Did she care? Not a bit; after all, she had to maintain her reputation as the coolest aunt.

More importantly, Theo managed to put together a list of ideas for gifts that referenced inside jokes from the time that Theo and Loki had known each other. Even better - the conversation between Theo and Wanda as they shopped, though wide-ranging and lively, gave Theo the inspiration for her final gift.

In the end, the gifts required some careful planning, calling in some favors, and a lot of sneaking to make it happen - not to mention a few sleepless nights as Theo put the finishing touches on certain details - but she managed to pull everything together, just in time for the first day of gift-giving.

Pepper had really outdone herself with the holiday decorations. On a normal day, the common areas within the tower could be described as minimalist: clean lines, lots of metal and glass, neutral tones everywhere, no knick knacks or soft touches to be found. Not even a throw pillow or blanket could be found in the common areas - whenever Theo wanted a pillow or a blanket, she had to bring it from her suite.

Yet, when everyone filtered into the living room after going out for dinner, they may as well have walked into a luxury ski chalet at Tahoe. In one corner sat a massive, lush evergreen tree trimmed with glistening tinsel, soft white lights, and a collection of beautifully coordinated ornaments in burgundy, cream, gold, navy, emerald, and eggplant.

The fireplace had a beautiful garland of eucalyptus, cypress, and cedar draped across the mantle; tucked among the greenery sat pillar candles of varying heights in burgundy, navy, emerald, eggplant, and gold. Elegant, cream-colored stockings with each Avenger’s name embroidered at the top hung in front of the crackling fire (plus stockings for Pepper and Happy, since they were pretty much unofficial Avengers).

Blankets and accent pillows, some in plaids that incorporated the colors of the ornaments and candles, others in solid colors, all made of luxuriously plush fabrics, found homes on the various seating throughout the living room.

Even the coffee tables had coordinating centerpieces.

Theo quickly found her usual seat, but continued to gawk at the living room’s transformation. When the hell did Pepper (or, Theo supposed, whoever Pepper hired) have the time to decorate the living room? Just that morning, when Theo left for work, the living room had been its usual, minimalist styling. Maybe if she had stopped back in her suite before meeting the others at the restaurant she would have seen the living room decoration in progress.

Hardly a moment later, Loki sat down beside her. Dressed in a forest-green crewneck sweater that perfectly framed the planes of his chest and black dress pants that highlighted his long legs, Loki somehow managed to look holiday appropriate without even trying. His raven curls, just slightly disheveled from the wind and snow outside, framed his elegant features so perfectly; combined with the warm glow of the fire and the soft light of the christmas tree he appeared downright radiant, particularly as he grinned at something Thor said.

“Quite magnificent, is it not?” Loki leaned over and nudged Theo with his elbow, interrupting her train of thought. Theo had to stop for a moment and consider whether he was referring to the himself, or the living room.

“Yeah,” Theo agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she realized Loki caught her staring. “Compared to when I left this morning, it is a night and day difference.“

“I suspect Miss Potts takes great pleasure in decorating for the winter holidays.” Loki offered Theo a soft smile. His soft eyes caught the flicker of the candles atop the coffee table as he studied Theo, and for the second time in less than a couple minutes, she found herself speechless.

Luckily, Dum-E saved the day when he dropped a present on Theo’s lap, and in doing so brought both sorcerers’ attention to the larger group. As it turned out, Dum-E distributed everyone’s gifts - all wrapped in the same paper, to make sure that the gift wrap didn’t give anything away - and as soon as he finished, it was time to open the first day’s gift.

They started with Bruce, then worked their way through a randomly generated list that Steve put together. The soft lights of the Christmas tree, glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, and joyous laughter as each person read their clue and opened their gifts filled the room with such warmth. It was the kind of holiday scene you’d see on a postcard, especially since snowflakes drifted past the tall windows and into the city below.

As they drew closer to Loki’s turn, Theo’s hands began to sweat. What if he didn’t like her gift? Sure, it was kind of corny, but it was a fun reference to how they spent much of their time. He didn’t seem overly thrilled by the idea of Secret Santa in the first place; what if her silly little gifts only made him hate the game?

Well, she didn’t have to wait any longer to find out, because it finally reached Loki’s turn.

Loki picked up the small box, turning it over and inspecting it. He tossed it into the air and caught it in one hand, lithe fingers curling perfectly around the container.

“It is quite light, and rather small,” he observed. “Whatever is in this box does not jostle when moved, so it either fills the box or it is carefully packed in place. Let us see what is inside.”

Loki methodically removed the ribbons, then carefully tore away the gift wrap. He removed the lid in a graceful motion and set it aside, all the while peering into the box. He hummed.

Seeing the fabric folded and coiled inside, he reached in and tugged on the cloth, pulling it from the box. The fabric unfolded as he lifted the gift into the air, revealing the first gift: a pair of crew-length socks - black, with an emerald green heel and toe. On one side of each sock, placed so it would be visible while wearing shoes, was the design of an apple car driven by a worm, as well as text which read: “I’m on my way to the bookstore!”

“Aw, those are cute!” Wanda winked at Theo as she said the words, to which Theo casually agreed.

Loki maintained a relatively neutral expression, though he let out a rather amused hum. He set the socks in his lap, then opened the card. As his eyes scanned over the text, one side of his lips curled up, then the other, until he wore a sheepish smile. He read aloud:

“I know you love the bookstore,

We’ve been there a time or two,

But since I can’t buy the whole store,

I got you a pair of Crew… socks!

Sorry, I know you like poetry, but your Secret Santa isn’t a poet.” Loki chuckled, shaking his head, then continued: “These socks are from Out of Print, which has donated over 5 million books to communities in need and supports a variety of literacy initiatives.”

He looked up from the card and glanced around at the group. “Well, thank you to my mysterious Secret Santa. I quite enjoy a whimsical piece of attire, and I am certain these will be put to good use.”

Next to Loki, Theo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

First day was not a failure.

Only… four more to go.

—

The second day of gift-giving arrived, and with it came another day of second-guessing whether or not Loki would like his gift.

This time, the idea came from a conversation early in their friendship. After falling asleep in Theo’s suite, Loki joined her for coffee on her balcony, at which point Theo explained a sudoku to Loki. At the time, he commented that there were “some puzzles he was still learning to solve.”

From that morning on, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way Loki approached briefings and missions as puzzles to solve. So when Theo found a pair of rather clever puzzle books (many of which provided a formidable challenge, even for her), she knew that it would be a perfect gift.

Yet, as the day crept on and the gift exchange grew near, Theo felt the seeds of doubt taking root once again. What if he thought the puzzles were stupid? He was a god, after all, and insanely intelligent. The puzzles might have been a challenge for Theo, but they were probably child’s play for Loki.

Still, it was too late to turn back, so by the time Theo sat down with the others and the gifts were distributed, she simply hid her sweaty palms in her sweater sleeves and acted like it was any other night in the tower.

Loki, for what it was worth, seemed perfectly relaxed when he took his usual seat beside Theo; this time, he opted for a plain gray t-shirt and a black cardigan, paired with what were (secretly) Theo’s favorite pair of dark, slim-fit jeans. When Loki crossed one ankle over his knee, Theo noticed his emerald green and black socks and her heart skipped a beat - he wore the socks she gave him.

That was a good sign, right?

Once again, Dum-E distributed the gifts, then each person took their turn opening their gift and reading the card; this time they started with Yelena, but otherwise the order was the same. After what felt like ages, Steve finally gave Loki the go-ahead to open his gift.

Like the first day, Loki went through the same routine of examining the box, then peeled away the wrapping paper.

For the sake of maintaining a bit of mystery (and making it slightly less obvious that the gift was a pair of books), Theo put the set into a clothing box and padded the sides. It wasn’t that sneaky, since the box was heavier than it would have been with apparel inside, but at least Loki wouldn’t know until he opened the box.

He opened the box and removed the first book.

“The Master Theorem - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit,” he read the title, then held it up for all to see, then held up the second book and read off the title. “The Master Theorem: Elite - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit.”

He returned the books to his lap, pausing for a moment to flip through the pages and glance at the contents.

“You gonna open the card?” Tony nodded towards the card that came with the box, which barely poked out from beneath the pair of books.

“Ah, yes, apologies.” Loki offered a half-smile, then retrieved the card and read aloud:

“While the identity of your Secret Santa is, well, a secret, it’s no secret that you, Loki, are pretty smart - like, ridiculously smart. And you’re a quick learner… Plus you’ve got a knack for problem solving. With that in mind, you seem to be a master when it comes to puzzles; even though you once told me there are still some puzzles you are learning to solve, the way you light up when you encounter a good logic puzzle or mystery makes me think there are few things you enjoy more than a good challenge.

“This series of puzzle books is notorious for its difficult logic puzzles - the New York Times called the first Master Theorem book “Mensa’s evil twin,” and the Elite edition is supposed to be exponentially harder. But with your sharp wit and attention to detail, I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time… And by the time you finish, maybe you’ll figure out the identity of your Secret Santa as well!”

Loki grinned as he folded the card and set it aside. “Thank you, my mysterious benefactor - I imagine I will be entertained for quite some time.”

For the rest of the evening, whenever Theo snuck a glance at Loki, she caught him flipping through his new books with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his eye, only half-paying attention to the others as they opened their gifts.

Day two: rousing success. Only three more days to go.

—

For the third day of gift-giving, Theo took a bigger risk.

At one point in Theo and Wanda’s shopping adventure, they stopped at a bakery to grab a snack and some coffee. While they waited for their drinks, they got on the topic of how, earlier that morning, Thor offered Loki a frosted pop-tart. In response, Loki nearly disintegrated the thing on sight, calling it an abomination to pastries everywhere.

And that was from Loki, the guy who was notorious for his sweet tooth.

The conversation gave Theo an idea.

Ever since Loki roped Theo into his pranks, Theo had wanted to find a way to turn the tables and prank him. And what better way to prank him than to bait-and switch some sweet treats?

With a call to Theo’s favorite Bodega cashier, Carlos (who still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask out that girl, but had at least he learned her name was Liza), Theo managed to get her hands on one of the big cardboard boxes that they shipped pop-tarts in. Importantly, it said pop-tarts all along the outside, so when Loki saw the box he would initially think it was a whole case of pop-tarts.

Instead of filling it with pop-tarts, Theo convinced Mémère to bake up all sorts of traditional Aneterran holiday treats to fill the box. Given Mémère already planned to make the treats, it was easy for the family matriarch to accommodate the request. However, when Theo explained her plan, a knowing, almost devilish grin spread across Mémère’s face; the next thing Theo knew, there were treats that Theo hadn’t seen since she was a child.

Packing the treats into the box required quite a bit of attention to detail - it had to have the weight and heft of a case of pop-tarts, and it had to be packed tightly enough to not move around, but she also didn’t want to crush the treats.

There may have been some enchantments involved to make it work, but hopefully Loki wouldn’t notice.

Not wanting to make the prank too convincing, Theo made sure to leave clues that the box had been altered somehow; knowing Loki, realizing the box had been tampered with would make him curious enough to look inside.

When everyone gathered for the third night of gift-giving, the laughter and merriment from the first two nights returned almost immediately. But when it came to Loki’s turn to open his gift, Theo’s confidence from the day prior collided with her nerves, to the point that she clutched her mug of spiked hot chocolate so her hands wouldn’t shake.

Just like the first two nights, Loki inspected the wrapped gift, lifting it up and giving it a gentle shake. “Much larger, and rather heavy,” he noted. “Yet, there’s a card that indicates I ought to open it before the gift. I suppose I ought to follow my Secret Santa’s request.”

He set the gift back in his lap, and quickly opened the card.

“Heard you have a sweet tooth…” Loki read aloud, then glanced down at the gift and hummed. “Well, let us see what is inside.”

Loki started to tear away the wrapping paper, but paused part-way through; his face twisted into something unreadable when he saw the writing on the box.

Theo bit her lip to not give herself away.

“Pop-tarts?” Thor exclaimed, cocking his head to the side with curiosity. “Brother, I did not think you to be a fan of the Midgardian pastry.”

“I…” Loki trailed off, face falling as he unwrapped the rest of the box. “Interesting.”

Theo’s heart stuttered in her chest - what if he didn’t think to open the box? Would she give herself away if she said something? Oh god, he looked like a kicked puppy — she should have realized that he might take it wrong because Thor likes pop-tarts and he’s the popular brother, shitshitshit—

“Loki, maybe you should open the box,” Bruce suggested, “There’s a weird wrinkle by the cardboard seam that makes me think it was opened, then closed again.”

If it wouldn’t have given her away, Theo would have leapt to her feet and hugged the man for his suggestion.

“Yeah, that box looks like it has been messed with,” Sam agreed, “and I think everyone knows you hate pop-tarts.”

The kicked-puppy expression softened as Loki took a second look at the box and noticed the obvious tampering that Bruce and Sam pointed out. A hint of pink rose on Loki’s cheeks - if Theo didn’t know better, Loki looked almost embarrassed at the realization - but he went ahead and opened the box.

Theo held her breath, all of her attention trained on Loki as she waited for his reaction.

Peering into the box, Loki’s shoulders suddenly dropped and relief flooded his features; he reached in and retrieved a treat similar to a chocolate scone, as well as a second card.

“Pleased to report that I was mistaken; it appears the box is filled with a variety of homemade treats, as well as a second card.” He let out a soft, almost hesitant chuckle as he opened the note and read aloud:

“HA! Nearly got you, didn’t I?!” Loki laughed a second time, this time a little louder, and nodded his head. “You’ve pulled off some of the best pranks, but your Secret Santa is known for a good prank or two.

“Jokes aside, did you really think your Secret Santa would do that to you? Of course not - I know you have a discerning taste when it comes to sweet treats (far more discerning than your brother, of course)! These are some of my favorite holiday snacks from growing up; I think you’d like them too. If nothing else, I promise they taste better than pop-tarts.”

Loki returned the note to the box, then unwrapped the treat in his other hand. He took a bite, and his face almost immediately lit up. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed, and cleared his throat to speak.

“Well, mysterious Secret Santa,” he said, “I will confirm that this treat is quite divine. However, you best watch yourself– “ Looking around at their teammates, a dark, sinister grin curled over Loki’s face. “– I am known as the Trickster god for a reason, and you may very well have started a war.”

When Loki briefly locked eyes with Theo, her heart skipped a few beats; in just a few moments he went from beautiful to downright devilishly handsome, and his threat should not have been nearly as hot as it was.

Sweet baby Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.

“Any guesses on who it is?” Bucky asked, tapping his vibranium fingers along the side of his still-wrapped present.

“I’ve a few contenders,” Loki smoothly answered, the earlier signs of discomfort completely gone, “but I will wait to put forth any claims.”

“Who cares! The real question is are you gonna share!?” Shuri pointed at the pastry in Loki’s hand, then held out her own hand. “That looks amazing!”

“Maybe once the Secret Santa is revealed, they can bring us all some treats.” Wanda replied, though she gave Theo a pointed glance, to which Theo glared back - after all, she didn’t want Wanda to give her away. “But for now, I think Loki should get to enjoy all of his gifts.”

Loki, who was busy searching through the rest of the box, didn’t seem to notice Wanda staring at Theo.

Shuri glanced at Wanda, then at Theo, then grinned as she made the connection.

“Fine, but they better bring me some extras,” Shuri relented. “That thing looks amazing.”

Theo smiled and rolled her eyes, just in time for Steve to inform Wanda that it was her turn to open her gift.

Day three, though nearly a bust, worked out.

Only two more to go.

—

After the scare of the third day, Theo went into the fourth day feeling more comfortable about her gift. Sure, Loki may shrug at it, and there was a chance he wouldn’t use it. But at least she wouldn’t run the risk of upsetting him by making him believe his preferences were the same as his brother’s.

In some ways, the gift seemed particularly timely: a winter storm raged outside the tower, with howling winter winds and heavy snow that made sitting in the living room feel like they were inside a snowglobe. Even with the heat on and the fire roaring in the hearth, everyone bundled up in sweaters and plush blankets, sipping on mugs of cocoa and tea in between opening gifts.

On the fourth night, Loki’s turn to open his gift came even earlier. Similar to the first three nights, he inspected the box - small, slender, almost like a fancy box for a fountain pen.

After making quick work of the wrapping paper, he glanced at the lid of the box:

“Museum of Modern Art Design Store,” he read, then shrugged and removed the lid of the box.

Nestled among chic black packing material sat a stainless steel tea infuser. Its design was what drew Theo to the gift - long, slender, with a hook on the top for easy removal, it looked downright elegant. And with the amount of tea Loki drank, an upgrade to his usual steeping methods seemed like the perfect sort of gift - thoughtful and useful.

Loki hummed, carefully slipping the tea infuser out of its packaging and inspecting it. The stainless steel glowed beneath the Christmas lights and reflected the smile curling over Loki’s face. He twisted the cap off, then closed it again, nodding to himself as he set it aside and opened the card. Like the first three days, he read the message to the group:

“A tea infuser that combines form and function?! It’s almost as stylish as you are (almost)! As the resident tea expert on the team, it seemed only appropriate to give you something for making your favorite (non-alcoholic) drink - after all, you’ve brought me, your Secret Santa, more than a few drinks over the course of knowing each other!”

The hint, in Theo’s opinion, was almost painfully obvious; Loki brought Theo drinks all the time. Coffee at the hospital when he knew she had a long day. Whiskey or wine when she needed to unwind. Tea when it was late and neither of them could fall asleep. Water when Theo just used her inhaler and needed to rinse out her mouth. Throughout the entire time she had been an Avenger, Theo never saw Loki bring anyone else drinks quite so often - not Thor, not Wanda, not anyone. However, the clue made so much sense, and there was only one more day, so it wasn’t like she had to keep the secret for much longer.

What Theo didn’t account for, however, was almost every other person in the room making the connection between the clue and the identity of Loki’s Secret Santa. Over a dozen pairs of eyes all trained in on Theo as Loki glanced down to set the card and gift aside; the heat of their stares nearly made Theo lose her composure.

When Steve asked if Loki knew who his Secret Santa was, he simply smirked and replied “I’ve my suspicions, but I find I rather enjoy the suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal.”

Somehow, she held it together, but just barely. Sure, Theo was grateful that Loki seemed to enjoy the gifts up to that point, but “suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal?” If Theo was under pressure before, now she was on the verge of being crushed under the weight of expectation, and the whole damn team knew it.

Theo shot a terrified look at Wanda, who only sent back an impish grin.

Shit.

One more day to go.

—

The final day of Secret Santa arrived, and with it, the grand reveal. Apprehension loomed over Theo’s head like a storm-cloud; after all, the pressure was on - not only to give the perfect gifts, but to set up the perfect reveal as Loki’s secret Santa.

Despite the overall success of the first four days, by the time the last exchange began, Theo was too nervous to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey clutched in both hands, offering little more than one-word answers whenever someone tried to ask her something. The only time she even considered sitting down was when Loki asked if she would join him on the couch, but then all the potential ways she might make a fool of herself flooded her thoughts and she politely declined, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs a bit.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki seemed disappointed that she didn’t want to sit by him, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her; after all, Theo was the one with the crush, not Loki.

At least from across the room, Theo could easily admire Loki in his thick, fair isle sweater - seasonally appropriate, of course, but like all of his attire, it fit him perfectly and highlighted his long, lithe form in all the right ways. Between her nerves about the gift and how distractingly handsome Loki was, she barely noticed when the first two Avengers opened their gifts and found out who was assigned as their Secret Santa.

For the final night of the exchange, Loki was the third person to open his gifts.

While Loki focused on the large box in front of him, everyone else stared at Theo. If she could have, she would have melted into the floor; instead, she stood by the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey in both hands, shooting dirty looks at the rest of the group so they wouldn’t give her away.

… Not like Loki hadn’t already figured out that Theo was his Secret Santa, because he likely knew. If he didn’t know, he was about to figure it out, but that was beside the point.

Of all the gifts Theo chose, today’s were the most nerve-wracking because they were the most personal: the pre-reveal gift referenced something Loki gave her when she ended up in the hospital with an asthma exacerbation and pneumonia a few months prior. The post-reveal gift referenced the time all the Avengers visited New Asgard, and Loki took her on a late-night walking tour of the community.

The note on the card was, well, maybe a bit too sentimental - in hindsight, maybe she should have saved the message for a later card that she could have given him in private. But by that point the card was taped to the box in Loki’s lap, and Theo couldn’t do a damn thing about it, other than brace herself for the inevitable fallout.

At least she had the sense to write a disclaimer at the top of the note: “You might want to read this to yourself first, then decide if you want to read it out loud.”

After four days, Loki’s examination of the gift box had become a routine: turn it all around, lift it up in the air, give it a shake - and once he seemed satisfied, he peeled away the wrapping paper.

“Well, I do not have any guesses as to what is inside this box, so I suppose I ought to open it.” Loki remarked, tugging away the last bit of wrapping paper. He conjured a dagger to cut the tape sealing the flaps at the top of the box, though he was careful not to cut deeply and risk damaging the contents inside (which was good, because that dagger would have sliced through the gift like hot butter).

Unlike the previous days, where he immediately looked inside the container, this time he made a show of looking at the others as he reached inside. Theo watched Loki’s arm muscles tense through the wool of his sweater as he grabbed the gift, while his brows furrowed with confusion.

As he turned back toward the box, he slowly pulled out the present: a snake squishmallow, in green, of course - after all, green was his color.

“That’s cute!” Natasha commented, though Loki didn’t seem to notice. He held the plush toy in both hands, turning it side to side as he gave it a once-over. Theo swore she could spot the gears turning in Loki’s head as he tried to make the connection between the toy and his Secret Santa.

“Yeah, but why? I don’t see the connection.” Yelena added, pointing at the card. “Open the card. I want to know what it says.”

Loki slowly set aside the snake, as if still thinking about the gift, and pulled out the note.

Theo watched as Loki methodically scanned the note. At first, he read with heavy brows drawn tightly together; after a few moments, the light from the christmas tree reflected off his sea glass eyes, glittery and shining amidst the soft glow. A shaky, small smile grew as he made his way through the message until it practically took over his face.

“Well, what does it say?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to try and read what was written on the card.

Loki, however, ignored her. Without warning, he closed the card and rose to his feet. In a couple of long strides, he stood before Theo, who could no longer bite back her nervous smile as he drew near.

Theo barely had a chance to set down her mug before Loki scooped her into his arms and crushed her in an embrace, the strength of which forced a small “oof!” out of Theo from the impact. She didn’t waste a moment before returning the embrace, selfishly nuzzling into his chest and drinking in the scent of cologne on his sweater - cedar, bergamot, and smoke - as they stood, arms wrapped around each other and swaying gently from side to side.

Loki leaned down, his nose brushing gently along Theo’s hair, then drew a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Truly. Thank you.”

Theo’s heart damn near exploded.

“Elsa, I really hope that Rapunzel’s your Secret Santa,” Tony, ever the troll, interrupted, “or this is going to get awkward.”

“Yeah, Tony, it’s me.” Theo laughed, her mind reeling as Loki shifted - if Theo’s mind didn’t deceive her, his lips brushed against the crown of her hair. Still, he hadn’t let go, and as long as Loki held on, Theo had no plans of going anywhere.

“Now I wanna know what she wrote on that damn note,” Sam complained between shoving handfuls of caramel corn in his mouth. “Because damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Loki react like that.”

“Can we let him open the other gift first?” Theo asked, still hugging Loki as she looked over at Sam. “After all, there is a part of the message that won’t make sense without seeing the final gift.

“Fine, but afterwards I wanna read the damn note.” Sam grumbled and leaned back in his seat while Bucky leaned over and snatched some caramel corn from him.

Theo begrudgingly pulled away from Loki, silently lamenting the lack of warmth that came with his touch. She rounded the Christmas tree and crouched down to where she hid the final box - a thin, rectangular box that was a bit larger than a poster - and brought it over to Loki, who had returned to his original seat. Theo sat down beside him, nervous but excited to see how he reacted to the last gift.

This time, Loki didn’t spend a moment examining the package - he went straight to tearing off the wrapping paper. With paper crumpled up and tossed aside, he carefully slid the lid off the box.

Centered on a bed of white tissue paper, was a painting - a canvas covered in thousands of small dashes of paint, the result of more than a few sleepless nights as Theo raced to finish the painting on a tight deadline. During the day, Theo hid it beneath a stack of other canvases so if Loki stopped by her suite, he wouldn’t notice; the moment night fell, Theo was elbows deep in oil paint as she added layer after layer of color.

“It’s New Asgard!” Thor exclaimed as he peered over Loki’s shoulder.

“Those are the gardens…” Loki breathed, one hand hovering over the canvas as if he wanted to touch it and prove to himself that it was real.

“The gardens that you created, and that your people and countless tourists adore.” Theo added, her cheeks slightly pink.

Loki’s focus went to the bottom corner, where Theo scrawled her name. It was tiny and borderline illegible because of the paint, but if someone had ever seen her handwriting, they would know instantly who it was. Loki traced his fingers over the letters almost meditatively.

“You made this?” When Loki looked up at Theo, she caught the slightest shine in the corners of his eyes, though his expression was nothing but pure awe. “Was this from memory?”

“God, my memory isn’t that good - I mean, yeah I painted it, but it wasn’t from memory,” Theo rubbed the back of her next, heat rising on her cheeks as Loki continued to gape at her. “I got Val to send me some pictures for reference, and then I worked on it every night after everyone was asleep. I wasn’t sure it would be done in time, if I’m honest, because oil paint takes forever to dry, but it dried just in time. The paint is still going to need some time to fully cure, so I’d be gentle with it.”

For the second time in minutes, Loki pulled Theo into another heartfelt embrace.

“I am… I am speechless. I’ve no words, truly.” He laughed, a rumbling sound that Theo felt as much as she heard it. “Thank you.”

“Okay now we need to know what the hell was on that card.” This time it was Shuri, who looked like she was one step away from snatching the card and reading it out loud herself.

Loki unfurled his arms from around Theo so he could set the painting on the table in front of them, then retrieved the card.

“I think you ought to read it,” Loki held the card out to Theo, his cheeks now flushed with crimson. “I imagine it will sound better in your voice, since you wrote the message.”

Theo rolled her eyes, but accepted the card. She got the sense that Loki felt a bit sentimental himself, and was probably a bit out of his comfort zone; re-reading the message aloud might be more than he thought he could handle. So, despite her heart still fluttering like a goddamn school girl, Theo tried her best to steady her breathing, then cleared her throat and began:

One of Thor’s favorite stories to tell is when you were children and turned into a snake to trick him. One of my favorite things is watching the little smile you get every time he tells the story, like you know you shouldn’t think it’s funny and it makes the story even funnier. I bet you’re making that same smile right now as you think about the story!

This clue will probably give me away, but you once gave me a gift much like this - a plush toy of an unexpected creature, because you realized that the creature shared a connection to my sister. You didn’t make a big deal out of it - telling me you “happened to pass by a shop window and it just seemed like something I would like,” but it meant the world to me; to this day, it is easily the best gift I’ve ever received.

In many ways, that gift is such a great example of why I am so lucky to have you as a friend - you are so incredibly thoughtful and kind, and when you sense that someone is having a tough time you go above and beyond to help, all without making a big deal about it… God knows you did that for me constantly when I first got here! There are, obviously, other reasons that you’re an amazing friend (your sense of humor, intelligence, and patience in putting up with me are also high on the list).

I know none of my Secret Santa gifts have been big or flashy so far, and your final gift isn’t exactly big or flashy either. If I’m honest, I panicked when I drew your name because, well, what do you get someone who could have any gift they wanted? But the more I thought about it, the more I came back to just how lucky I was to have the gift of your friendship (yeah, corny as fuck, sorry - you’re the silvertongue, not me!). I can’t ever give you a gift that would compare, but I can at least make sure you know just how grateful I am for you and how much of a difference you make. Without a doubt, my life is better because you’re in it, as are the lives of many others.

So, for your final gift, I made you something that I hope will remind you of not just the impact you’ve made on me, but the impact you’ve made on countless others, every time you see it.

Merry Christmas Loki.

Yours,

Secret Santa.

P.S. I hope you can forgive my sentiment. Not all of us can be as cool as you.”

By the time Theo finished reading the message aloud, her entire body felt like it was on fire from the combination of her nerves and the others’ burning stares. With trembling hands, Theo slowly closed the card and set it on her lap, eyes focused downward the entire time.

“I didn’t realize it was possible to win at Secret Santa… ” Peter finally broke the silence, beaming as he looked at the pair. “... But I think Theo just won Secret Santa.”

“I think everyone’s going to want you as their Secret Santa next year,” Steve chuckled, nodding along. “Still, we aren’t done with this year’s Secret Santa - I believe Wanda, you’re up next?”

With that, the attention shifted away from the two sorcerers sitting side-by-side on the couch, and onto the rest of the festivities. While Wanda made a scene trying to deduce clues about her gift, Loki casually slipped his hand over to Theo, interlacing his fingers with hers. In turn, Theo leaned her head on Loki’s shoulder and settled into his side.

By that point, she was only-half watching as Wanda opened one last gift. Frankly, Theo hadn’t heard who Wanda’s Secret Santa was, but she wasn’t that interested.

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Theo whispered, giving Loki’s hand a squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, Theo,” he murmured, turning so his lips brushed Theo’s temple. “I think this might be the first year that I’ve understood why one might enjoy Midgardians’ holiday festivities.”

Cozily tucked into Loki’s side, amidst the golden glow of the holiday lights and the spirited laughter of friends, Theo had to agree: maybe the holidays weren’t so bad after all.

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #tooth-rotting fluff #tooth rotting fluff #holiday fic #christmas fic #christmas fluff #loki x ofc #mutually pining idiots

61 notes · View notes

unsanctioned-if · 5 months

Text

Snippet #3

As promised, here's a small snippet from chapter 1. Please note that it's not completely edited and that wording and content might change in the final draft.

There are three different flavor-text options here depending on the background you've chosen for your MC at the beginning. These are going to pop up a lot throughout chapter one. I decided to include all three of them in this excerpt to give a small look at how they differ from one another.

Aristocrat = A noble upbringing in the capital.

Nomad = A childhood spent with a community that moves from place to place.

Scavenger = The MC was the only child in a ragtag group who search for discarded items to sell.

Enjoy!

“You must be famished,” Cirern stated, not bothering to phrase his words as an inquiry. “Allow me.”

With one swift motion, he gave a quick and quiet snap of his fingers. You waited silently, expecting something to happen. Seconds passed, but the man did not stir again. Though hunger gnawed at your stomach, rendering you tired and weak, you couldn’t help but to wonder whether he was somehow testing you.

You didn’t take note of the faint whirring at first. It wasn’t until it grew into a discernible noise that you turned your head to the side, perplexedly regarding your surroundings. Unable to hold yourself back, you let out a gasp as your eyes found the source of the odd, intrusive sound.

A figure had appeared by one of the room’s openings, though it was no being of flesh and bone. Matted gold clad the figure, reminiscent of armour rather than skin. Cogwheels turned inside of its exposed chest, methodically and cooperatively. The face resembled that of a human, but where a person would have eyes, two hallowed holes stared back. A straight nose and curved, metallic lips completed the face, but you weren’t certain whether the attempt at making it pass as something humanoid made the sight more or less unnerving.

Aristocrat: You knew of these creations, though you had never laid eyes on one other than the drawings included in books. "Automatons" they were called, artificial life created from clockwork, originally hailing from Ciralor to the south.

Scavenger: You had witnessed these types of creations in the past, though never one made in the image of a person and never one that hadn’t long since stopped operating. Scraps of metal here and there, most commonly. If your memory served you correctly, they originated from Ciralor to the south.

Nomad: You swallowed, mesmerized by – or struck with fear of – the strange creature.

“An automaton,” said the man to you in an explanatory fashion. “A machine built to serve mortal men. It will cause us no harm.”

The automaton’s movements were stale and jerking, lacking the natural grace that organic beings possessed. Yet it advanced across the room, towards you, without noticeable difficulty."

#unsanctioned #interactive fiction #if #writing #excerpt #snippet

54 notes · View notes

lounaticm · 2 months

Text

Married!Captain x Dark HCs

(I haven't been able to stop thinking about this ask from @psychnerd713 and only after I gave an answer did my brain decide to properly start thinking about it, so. Here's a continuation.)

The wedding is a quiet affair, just the two of them. Much as the Captain loves their crew to death, they didn't want anything loud or to have too much attention. This was for them and him. Thankfully, the Captain has both the knowledge and license/authority to officiate their own wedding, the very first to take place on their new planet.

The Captain says nothing about having gotten married afterwards, though it doesn't take too long for someone to catch them with their gloves off, the ring standing out starkly. The discoverer stating their surprise and lack of knowledge about the Captain being married draws a lot of attention, eventually bringing Celci around to mention that the Captain's records upon boarding the Invincible stated that they weren't married.

"It happened recently. Didn't want a lot of attention or to cause a commotion."

Questions about 'who' and 'where' and 'when' and 'why they hadn't said anything before' immediately began to flood in.

"No one that any of you would know. Not too far from the settlement. Almost a month ago, now. Because it's a rather complicated situation."

Cue Dark suddenly appearing through what looks like a hole in the universe.

"I would say you certainly seem to have some timing... except I know you're always watching or listening."

"I worry."

"I know. You're a professional worrier at this point. And due to the sorts of things that have happened, I don't mind a bit. It's nice to have an extra pair of eyes on things."

The crew, of course, feels rather hurt that they weren't at the very least told about the Captain getting married before now, but ultimately understand - at least, as much as they're able to without all the details of what led up to it all, but that's an entire lifetime and then some, and it would simply take much too long to try to explain it all just then.

Dark wears a glamor for the first while, hiding his inhuman skin tone and the unnatural (and sometimes uncomfortable) aura that usually surrounds him. The first time he lets any of it down is actually accidental, an ever-so-slight slip of his concentration as he's walking around the settlement, speaking and reminiscing with the Captain. All it takes is for the Captain to make him laugh, a burst of cyan sparkling off of him like flecks of aquamarine catching the sunlight, a small ripple of red following in its wake.

He starts consciously allowing parts of his aura to show through after that. The red and cyan anaglyphic effects. The grey pallor to his skin. An occasional feeling of slightly increased air pressure around him. It's assumed that that's all there is to him... until he's seen getting irritated at a certain wannabe usurper in the crew. Grey creeps off his skin like smoke, eventually coalescing into a sphere around him, the color of everything in this area being sapped away until it is removed from this proximity. That slight pressure becomes a heavy weight, pressing down like the gravity had suddenly shifted to be double or triple of what it should be. And then there's the high-pitched ringing, like a gun had gone off much too close by, and the creaking, as if something wooden were under a strain. No one could deny that the Captain's husband made for quite the intimidating sight when he wanted to be, and he hadn't even raised his voice.

He'd introduced himself to everyone by the name Dark, and though people always hear the Captain calling him Damien (and diminutives thereof) no one calls him anything else.

Dark sometimes disappears for a few hours, but no one knows where he goes and they've no intentions of asking and potentially butting into personal business. Some have heard the Captain asking him how 'the Others' are doing when he comes back again - always through those abyss-like doorways that close too fast to see anything but a pitch black void. Eavesdroppers often hear talk of someone called 'Will' getting up to all sorts of things. Regardless of what names are mentioned, there is always clear fondness in his tone, if sometimes colored with exasperation.

Knowing me, my brain probably won't let this go even still, so if I end up with more thoughts, there will be a sequel to this.

@kiwibubbles5

#lou's writing #voices from the abyss #markiplier #markiplier egos #darkiplier #iswm captain #in space with markiplier #iswm #beloved void man 🖤#mirror revenant 🪞

21 notes · View notes

onlyseokmins · 2 years

Note

coups in his new haircut gives me a lot of husband vibes... I just can't explain but like really cocky husband who always shows his spouse their place in the bedroom but other than that is really loving and sweet and just turns into a beast on certain occasion... some strength or size kink included, pinch of mixed praise and degradation,, dawg lord is testing me

coupsie got me in a choke hold 25/8 but I somehow I made this too soft fkdksksla

“Always so confident and sexy,” Seungcheol rasps as he withdraws his fingers from your clenching hole, “but look at you now… all cute and needy. My filthy, little fuck toy.”

You whine as your husband plays with you, the cold metal of the wedding band he refuses to ever take off creating a chilling contrast from the heated warmth of his large hands. He’s leaning against the headboard of your shared bed, peppering kisses along your chest as you sit in his lap.

Just because you’re on top means very little — the urge to grind down on the hard bulge of his large dick underneath you is lost because one, you know it’s better to behave to get what you want and two, Seungcheol’s free hand lays just above the curve of your ass. It’s mostly there to grab and grope as he pleases, but it also serves as a reminder for you to keep still or else a stinging slap across your cheeks will quickly put you back in place.

You’re filled with emotion, running tentative fingers through his newly cut chestnut locks. The two of you have always been an iconic pairing long before you were married, the authoritative power held in your respective careers only drawing people in that are filled with awe.

His “new” look is reminiscent of a boy full of overblown, fake confidence many years ago, the one you broke with sinful licks of your tongue up his dick and the same one you’re now happily in love with and married to.

Some of your oldest friends like to joke about how you take charge in the relationship. Little do they know how the roles have slowly reversed over the years. Seungcheol’s full of real confidence now, the result of learning, growing, molding, and sculpting one another on your individual life journeys together.

It’s that same confidence he uses when he tells you to suck his fingers clean with that smug eyebrow raise and cocky smirk. Of course, you oblige — more than happy to do whatever he asks. There is no way your husband can hide the absolute adoration he holds for you in his eyes even with how harshly he grips at your thighs once he bottoms out.

“Mhm, so full… so big… so good,” you babble mindlessly as he leaves little bite marks across your neck.

“No matter how many times I shove my cock in this tiny, useless hole you’re always so fucking tight.”

You only prove him right, clenching again and again around his hard length until you’re both coming undone — making a sweaty, sticky mess of the bedsheets. The two of you gaze at each other with utter fondness, sharing breathless giggles as the adrenaline rush calms down.

Seungcheol wakes you from a brief slumber as he’s wiping down your body, a fresh blanket lying next to you once the chill sets in. You shyly peek at him when his hand innocently slides between your legs, and he snorts.

“What? All ready to go again, love?”

“Not really, just love you.”

“Yeah? I love you too.”

It’s domestic and pure, the total opposite to how you were just fucking like animals before. But even after all these years, Seungcheol’s boyish grin still sends butterflies fluttering in your tummy and it just might be the best feeling in the world (might even beat out the best orgasm he's given you, who knows?).

Send me a NSFW headcanon and I’ll write a 5(ish) sentence ficlet about it 👀👅

#ez.creates #seungcheol smut #Choi Seungcheol smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #scoups smut #1990zoyalais #svt.smut

532 notes · View notes

frecklenog · 5 months

Text

ok again i’m only like 2-3 hrs into the 7h Monster Vid on who’s lila (it’s good.) but i hqve. things 2 say

content warnings: discussion of incest, csa, rape, and mental illness both in general and as a means of telling horror stories

will explicitly says that he had a decent childhood with his mom, after his dad ran off

however, it’s implied during the interrogations that will’s past is… well, Not That. not really.

sure, he loves his mom. he cares about her. but there’s also the fact that, when he was fifteen, he brought home a girl — annie — and ms. clarke proceeded to tell her things about will that will doesn’t go into detail about, but says that some parts were true, and some were not.

whether or not that was a lie is up for debate, but i think the fact that he says some of what she was saying was true is worth keeping in mind, especially as it can be implied via the context of annie being a potential romantic interest for will that the things ms clarke was saying were sexual in nature. given her being routinely described as having a strict, overbearing nature, i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she had abused him not just psychologically, but sexually as well.

due to this being a recollection of a conversation rather that something explicitly shown, i think it’s fair to assume that this could’ve happened at any point between will’s early childhood and him being fifteen.

even if the abuse will faced never took on a sexual nature, his relationship with his mother was traumatic, and will is clearly impacted by it. it’s common to read him as autistic, with his difficulties surrounding properly expressing his emotions (ie. game mechanics regarding his expressions and general reactions), but nothing is explicitly stated, and, to me, as an autistic dissociative, i see reflections of myself in him.

i also want to reiterate a point made by flaw peacock — that being that will can, and does, emote on his own. this can be interpreted similarly to any other rpg protagonist, as it mostly happens within dialogue branches, with the player only influencing will’s expression at certain points.

further demonstrating this is the fact of the game’s difficulty setting. setting the game to “easy” disables the will’s ability to try to move his face on his own, which does its job in creating more difficult gameplay, but also lends glimpses into the individuals who originally steered the body that the player now controls.

i can’t neatly tie this in yet, but will’s presence in a horror game as a character with very clear symptoms of very real mental illness (that i can relate to) strikes me as being very reminiscent of evan kelmp from dimension 20: misfits and magic. evan is an arguably autistic character, but over the course of his life has been subjected to curses that go unexplained throughout the series, but draw direct parallels to “scarier” disorders, such as schizoaffective symptoms — and, in all honesty, may have been misdiagnosed as such.

(personally, i think it’s far more interesting to have characters like this written as both. it’s refreshing to see a character who is genuinely unwell be treated by the narrative in a way that feels good to those of us who can see ourselves in them, and be accepted and come into themselves in a world more fantastic and frightening than our own, just the same as anyone else. it’s part of why i love mismag, and definitely contributes to my own storytelling)

this is far from all of my thoughts, but it’s what i have the energy to write down rn

#shut up emrys #who’s lila #who’s lila?#whos lila #idk what this is. analysis? a theory?

26 notes · View notes

lsleofthelost · 5 months

Note

Do you have any descendants headcanons? I’m new to your blog.

ugh like so many….

if u want me to do something about a certain character or relationship just send me another ask but since it’s like a general question i’m gonna take it as an opportunity to talk about the Isle of the Lost because i genuinely spend so much time thinking about what it’s like, i think it’s such a cool setting

it’s actually pretty big, you know, to be able to house all the villains, their supporters and other criminals from all these different kingdoms + it’s big enough that Maleficent can effectively banish someone

i began trying to describe where i think everything is but i realised it would be easier to draw a map, so here’s hoping i’ll actually do it, but the important point here is that there’s a residential area that clusters around the bridge and the dock where the barges come in and then deeper into the island, it’s a dark forest

and on the other side of that forest is where the Evil Queen was banished to

i always thought it was weird that EQ is banished but Cruella is her neighbour, so i hc that Cruella was also banished for a time and that’s why she also lives on that side of the island

she probably tried to saw off Maleficents horns, or pluck her wings or something like that

(but Carlos can move freely because he isn’t included in the banishment)

i think there’s a layer of Isle population that doesn’t lean into villainy, like they weren’t anyone famous or didn’t commit huge crimes, so they just try to stay under the radar and live as well as the conditions allow it, it’s easier and safer to affiliate with a gang but they try not to get too involved

the Isle was not just bare when they started sending criminals over, Auradon built the bridge are, the docks for their barges, a few roads and those two story buildings we see, with the intention that they would be like apartments for the incarcerated

what they didn’t account for was that there would be more people than apartments and that the big villains would take more territory than what was assigned to them

so that’s how we get people who’s beds are behind their stalls at the market, or those who sleep in a row of beds in one room

there’s no set currency on the Isle, it’s barter or contracted labour (but mostly it’s stealing)

when the Isle was first established, the barrier was focused on not letting things out, not so much on not letting things in

so far a while, the barrier would let magic in, but if they tried to cast a spell on someone outside the barrier it would just fizzle out

but doing magic under the barrier was extremely difficult and slow going, felt like trying to run in your sleep

the big magic users were able to transform their residences, which is why, for example, Maleficent’s place is reminiscent of her old keep

they could also summon some smaller objects from their old lives, like EQ’s mirror shard

those who couldn’t do magic, like Cruella, made contracts with the magic users, and they were able to transform an apartment into Hell Hall to the Isle and she was able to bring some of her fur coats over

it was pretty short lived, when Auradon realised what’s been happening, they tightened the barrier to be impenetrable, allowing the absolute minimum of magic in

this minimum is how we get Mal’s glowing eyes, or poisons being able to work

there’s a crazy mixture of accents in that place, since it’s people from all these different kingdoms now forced to live on one island

Isle slang is just a hodgepodge of different languages’ slang and borrowed words

each big faction probably has their own way of speaking, since that’s who they interact with daily, like those who surround the Queen of Hearts and her Cards all speak with a slight british accent and use Wonderland nonsense words

#i’m gonna rb some of my old hc posts after answering this!!#asks #anonymous #sorry if it’s a little all over the place lol i just have so many different thoughts #i also think this mostly covers the big general canon compliant things about the Isle #laila.txt

25 notes · View notes

ask-team-misfit · 3 months

Note

Mimipon@Pikavee: Somehow Mimipon ended up on Pikavee's head, where they kinda just sat down. "I heard you are lost." The little kyu spoke up. "When I'm lost, it helps to ask others for a hand." They beamed a happy smile, "There is so many good folk around; far more than bad ones." They patted Pikavee on the head. Trying to reassure them. "So maybe these folk might be able to help you eh?"

[ @ask-mimipon ]

She was somewhat startled upon hearing her voice as is; but feeling Mimipon on her head and realizing why she couldn’t immediately spot her made her freeze.

Such a tiny Pokemon on her body, where she couldn’t see her… a multitude of anxious, morbid thoughts filled her head as she tried to stay still. Notably, even though being petted felt really nice, she was lightly quivering a bit.

Pikavee: “Th-that’s what I hoped, at first. Now, I’m not so sure. It sounds like everyone here has enough things to worry about.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Pikavee, a hybrid of Espeon and Umbreon, with a mono-color background. She is shown from the neck up, with her face slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. She appears embarrassed, maybe confused. Her eyes are downcast, with her mouth in a shaky frown. A heavy blush, shown in color, is present on her face. Her ears are upright. End ID ]

Pikavee: “But to be honest, at least with the villagers… I think they need help more than I do. The disasters Lief talked about seem really awful for them. It doesn’t feel right to just do nothing, knowing about that.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief, a hybrid of Sylveon and Ribombee, shown from the neck up, oriented similarly to the previous image. He looks puzzled, or curious. His left eyebrow is noticeably raised, while his right eyelid is lowered somewhat. He is frowning visibly. An angular question mark is floating next to his head at the left. End ID ]

Lief: “You really are worried about that, huh? Well, I don’t blame you, for starters… but how would that be helping you?”

Pikavee: “Well… it’s the right thing to do, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to earn their trust first–?”

Lief: “Nope. Nuh uh. Remember what I said.”

Anonymous asked: So... What is the "evil" in that nice little town that you know of that we fail to observe, huh, butterfly boy?

Lief: “Which part? The whole thing about how ferals are treated, or the certain someone I mentioned that’s in charge of the place?”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image, but with a different expression. He looks fairly casual, or otherwise relaxed. A cheeky smile, reminiscent of the ":3" emoticon, is present on his face. In addition, his mouth is open. End ID ]

Lief: “I mean surely I don’t need to justify myself to you on the former, right? As for the latter, trust me when I say that we definitely do not want the attention of the latter.”

Given the nature of these encounters–aside from it being out in the open to begin with, he’s assumed at least one witness to be present during his earlier talk with Pikavee, wherein he mentioned the prejudice in question.

[ to be continued... ]

#answered #plot #other's art #ask-mimipon #Mimipon Mimikyu #anon #pokemon askblog #pokemon ask blog #pokeask #pokeask blog #pokeaskblog #Lief Simbobeon #Pikavee Twileon #ask blog #pokemon ask

12 notes · View notes

pureheartcreativity · 9 months

Text

Drink With Me (Eomer x reader)

This is my first reader insert fic in ages so please forgive me if it’s not that great. On the other hand I've found my love of writing again so hopefully I'll carry on and proceed to improve as I go on!

I was watching Les Mis a while back and some of the music made me think of certain parts of Lord Of The rings and really liked the idea of ‘drink with me’ being before the battle of the Pelenor fields. Anyway I had planned to write a long fic at one point but I just cant think of how to tie together individual stories. So nothing romantic happens to be honest (just making eyes at each other mildly) You are an elf in this story though (Or there are mild mentions of you being an elf) Anyway I hope you enjoy the small amount I have written! Warnings - consumption of alcohol and manly angst!

You see him sat there, the glow of the fire light dancing across his face that was etched in deep worry his golden-brown eyes following the movements of nearby people in the camp as they busied themselves preparing for the for the inevitable ride to battle upon the rising of the sun at dawn. His own had gently cups his bearded chin his thumb rubbing over his lips as his thoughts seemed to take him. His eyes venture upwards when a tankard of ale id held before him then your view of the golden-haired man is blocked as a soldier of Rohan speaks with a hearty warming voice about past successes in war. You shift your position giving some positive reassurance to a young-looking soldier, passing by with a saddle looking particularly distressed. You look back to where Eomer had been sat to see him now stood with the tankard of ale in his hands his golden-brown eyes filled with a hint of hope, laughter, and reminiscence. A smile pulls of your fair features as you see this. Your elven ways were so different than that of men and yet you were enchanted by their ability to find joy and laughter of the knife edge of war. You took your eyes off Eomer to busy yourself with polishing the already pristine elven horse armour to distract yourself from conflicting thoughts. This was short lived though as one of the Rohirrum raised their own tankard into the air and spoke with a voice of confidence “Drink with me” resounding in a reply of cheerful grunts from men, drawing your attention back to less troubled Eomer too raising his own tankard.

‘Drink with me. To days gone by

Sing with me the songs we knew.

Here’s to pretty girls that went to our heads.

Here’s to witty girls that went to our beds.

Here’s to them and here’s to you’.

The conversation was loud but full of laughter as the soldiers teased each other about past encounters in their pursuit of women hues of pink mixing with the glow of orange upon each face of the men as they regaled in the tales. Your own cheeks and the tips of your pointed ears flushed pink at the humility of the conversations, that pink turning more of a beet red as you herd the mention of the golden-haired man.

“Eomer I’m sure has had his share of tales of young maidens he has successfully pursued in his time growing into the fine man he has become” An older man spoke his silver flecked beard full of crumbs for the food he had been eating laughing after he had spoken causing the brown eyed prince to blush beneath his golden facial hair. You didn’t know why but it made you sad to think of Eomer pursuing other people. He was you dearest friend and yet he had always failed to mention of any women of interest in his life to you. You had always assumed he had never found the right person, but he was at an age that his uncle would see him married to a suitor, through preferably of Eomer’s choice.

“Aye Eomer is the lord of all chivalry and could make young maidens fall to his feet with a single sentence” Another man about the same age as Eomer with dark hair slapped the brown-eyed prince on the back in a friendly manner causing the golden haired prince to splutter his mouthful of ale out, his cheeks now burning a bright red as he made eye contact with you a mixed look of embarrassment and guilt playing on his face as if he had done something terribly wrong, yet you knew he hadn’t. “But alas” The dark-haired young man spoke again placing his hand on his chest dramatically and bending to a knee bolstering the prince having taken notice of where he was looking. “Eomer shall leave a string of broken hearts behind him as he saves himself only for the lady who has stolen his heart from him” The dark-haired soldier feigned dramatic pain clutching at his chest feigning to be an inconsolable maiden all the while checking to see that you were still watching as Eomer’s face flushed deeper matching your own colour. It was only the gentle tug on your cloak that broke your concentration as a tankard was placed into your own hands by the young soldier that you had reassured. You gave a not of thanks and allowed the young man to stand beside you to continue to listen to the conversations ahead.

“Jest not. Men will die out there tomorrow” Another of the older soldiers spoke with treat and worry, bringing the severity of the night back to a troubling one.

‘Drink with me. To days gone by

To the life, that used to be.

Let the shrine of friendship never say die.

Let the wine of friendship never run dry.

Here’s to you and Here’s me’.

The sense was more dire in the camp again the pink and red faces had turned very pale very quickly as if ailment had taken them. “Men will die. Families will lose a father, a husband, a son, and all in middle earth will be doomed” The older man spoke again feeling the depth of the situation weigh heavily on him. A silence fell like that you would find of a death filled battlefield after a victory or loss. “If those in care of the one ring are successful there is still the cost of death on all lands” The man spoke again the breaths of men audible in the silence of the night air. You eye this man carefully and so with careful calculated steps come to the centre of the group carefully cradling your own tankard of ale considering the amber liquid inside before looking up standing tall and proud as if you were addressing a squadron of your own elven warriors. “Death must come to all in our turn. Hope is only lost if we chose to fear it” You speak in the hopes to restore life and joy into the group that had gathered, yet there was a firm uncertainty still lingering in the air.

“That’s easy for an immortal to say” The older man all but spat at you eyeing you like you were a danger to the company he kept. You look down at the tankard full of amber ale again inhaling the smoky sweet scent and the words came to you in a simple sweep. You raise your head from its stare into the liquid that reminded you of the brown eyed prince who had his eyes firmly fixed on you with questioning, and a little bit of frustration.

“Drink with me?” You speak unsure of your actions rendering the company around you completely speechless. Elves were far more serious than men in war situations and usually you were no exception to that and now you stood offering a drink with the men of Rohan, a surprise to even yourself. Then you found your confidence as the brown eyes staring directly into your own (Y/EC) softened encouraging to on with your words. “Drink with me” It was less of a question now and more of a statement as you raised the tankard enthusiastically some of the amber liquid sloshing over the rim onto your hand causing it to tingle pleasantly.

‘Drink with me. To days gone by

To the Life that used to be

Let the shrine of friendship never say die.

Let the wine of friendship never run dry.

Here’s to you and here’s to me.’.

Eomer immediately came to your side after your second request to drink with the men of Rohan sliding one arm around your waist and raising his own half full tankard with his free hand taking you up on the offer before lowering his tankard guiding you to do the same and clinking his against yours and taking a large gulp from his drink his eyes never leaving yours. You too took a long sip from your own drink enjoying your closeness with the golden-haired prince in this time, so much so you hadn’t noticed the group too talking drinks from their own tankard until Eomer pointed it out by gesturing to the group around them with his drink.

“The free peoples of middle earth will fall” you spoke again but this time with men more willing to listen to your more freeing words. “But middle earth will be free. Families will be cared for, and the dead will be honoured in the finest halls of the Valar” You speak valiantly eliciting a cheer from the drinking men. It was with this that the night blew over with joyful tales told across the encampment leading to the dawn and the mighty charge to war at the Peleonor Fields.

#Eomer x reader #eomer #Rohan #cute idea #lotr #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #battle of the pelennor fields

28 notes · View notes

sarucane · 6 months

Text

OFMD Spiral Parallels 32: Manipulative Pirate Buddies 3

Intro: What I love most about how season 2 builds on season 1 of OFMD is the spiral narrative structure. Ground is repeatedly and explicitly re-trod from season 1 to season 2, but in season 2 everything goes deeper than season 1. Symbols appear and reappear, transformed. Meanings are shuffled, emotions are stronger and truer, and transformation is showcased above everything. The first season plucks certain notes, then the second season plucks the same ones--but louder, and then it weaves them together to create a symphony.

---

In the middle of both episodes, private conversations about the nature of Ed’s and Stede’s relationship takes place between a manipulative pirate and one of our main characters. However, in the first episode, only Stede has a private conversation with Jack, but in the second both Stede and Ed have private conversations about with Anne and Mary. And while both the first episode and the second involve the new pirates manipulating our main characters, the outcomes of the scenes highlight how the meaning of the past has changed from one season to another, from destructiveness that must be avoided to chaos that invites transformation.

Anne and Jack both want to get information out of Stede, but they go about doing this in completely different ways.

Jack makes Stede defensive, provoking discomfort in Stede—and, crucially, denial about what’s happening between him and Ed. Stede obfuscates, pointing to an insecurity that Jack then exploits using repeated references to the past. Jack’s goal is to make Stede as uncomfortable as possible—use the shadows of Ed’s past and their connection to the present—to push Stede to isolate himself from Ed, and he entirely succeeds.

Anne, on the other hand, makes Stede comfortable. She is genuinely interested in what’s actually happened between Stede and Ed, because her goal is more open-ended than Jack’s. She wants to use the past to create drama, not destruction. And drama is actually what Ed and Stede need, because the only way to resolve the central conflict is for them to have a dramatic conversation.

Meanwhile, both Anne and Mary individually draw comparisons between themselves and the boys. Anne builds on what she learned about Stede’s personality—and its similarity to hers—in the antique shop, then tries to get Stede on board to make both their partners “so jealous,” to provoke drama in both their relationships.

Ed is actually the first one to draw a comparison between himself and Anne by bringing up how Stede stabbed him once. Anne then invokes the past, like Jack did, but not as a way to destroy the present—as a way to explain the present. Jack told Stede that he and Ed are “the same man,” but Mary tells Ed that both couples are involved in the same experience, are bound together by a chaotic “whirlpool.”

The scenes also illuminate important ways that Ed’s and Stede’s ideas of the past can shift.

Before, Stede was enjoying the “ideal past,” and to move forward with Ed he needs to accept that the past had negatives, too. He starts doing this with Anne, describing the problems of his past that arose when he went back to his wife.

Ed, on the other hand, was focusing on the negatives of the past, on the pain that resulted from Stede leaving. To move forward, he needs to think about the closeness that made the pain worth enduring. And he starts doing this with Mary, smiling and reminiscing about being stabbed by Stede. Before this, Ed rejected each attempt Stede made to suggest that their past relationship was a good place. But the bad ending didn’t define the whole relationship—the past influences the present but doesn’t determine it—and Ed starts to believe in that in this scene.