#and that image is mostly obstructed and dark

[husku-u]

I didn’t remember to take pictures on Halloween but-

Me & @sunsetwaffle345 went as NSH and Moon!

#this may or may not be the only picture we took #I spent till 4 am the previous night making these- #and then like 3 more hours day of #they turned out so cool! #let me tell you the ear caps for moon were a nightmare to figure out how to attach #making a costume for a character with only one canon image #and that image is mostly obstructed and dark #is slightly difficult- #THANK YOU FANARTISTS #time for the fandom tags folks #rain world #rw iterator #rw lttm #lttm #rw looks to the moon #looks to the moon #rw nsh #NSH #rw no significant harassment #no significant harassment #rw lilypad #? i guess #we gay irl so yeah #original post

[megamindsecretlair]

Be My Little Darling - Chapter 9

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

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

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

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. This dance between you and Loki has gone on long enough. You head to his place with a mission.

Word Count: 5,858k

Masterlist

A/N: WHEW! Welcome back, welcome back! Hope you enjoy because I definitely did. Loki season 2 has me FERAL. I love that he's using his magic more and that one scene?? WOOOOF! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

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

Your hand hovered on the door in front of you. Nerves bubbled in your gut and twisted. You lowered your hand and bit your lip. This was insane. 

But the club had been running itself ragged trying to clean up the mess the saboteur made. Loki managed to switch the rooms back around. He was forced to close the club for a few days as he did so. The employees were not happy. No work, no pay. 

You worked from sun up to sun down trying to help decipher the problem. You had magic but it wasn’t on Loki’s scale. Nor the saboteurs. You were a glorified tool belt, able to conjure tools and weapons at whim. You had stared at both of the cards left behind and the only thing you were able to gleam was that they were created magically. Duh.

So after a week or two cleaning up the mess, everyone was exhausted. Loki didn’t have enough energy to tease you normally. The club was due to reopen again tomorrow. Loki was determined to not let the saboteur get to you both. But you hadn’t been much help, always going off about the things you would do to them once you found them. 

You wrung your hands and stared at his door, willing him to sense you and take the decision out of your hands. But no. This was your decision. You drove over here, you climbed the steps to the apartment above the club, and you were going to knock on this damn door. 

You knocked before you could think twice about it. A moment later, Loki opened the door and smiled tiredly at you. “Darling…a pleasure as always,” he said. He swept to the side and opened the door wider, inviting you in.

The feeling was not unlike entering the chamber of a famous monster. In you went. Your heels sunk into plush carpet and you were taken aback by how open and inviting his space was. It was painted in earth tones, rich greens and browns and dark blues. His couches complimented the paint colors well, soft velvet fabric stretched over comfortable looking cushions. 

There was a half wall separating the kitchen from the living room, but everything was mostly open plan. Paintings took up space on the walls, of various scenes of bodies pressed together. The images were evocative and vaguely erotic. Of course they were. Loki closed the door and you turned to face him.

He stood with his legs crossed and leaned against the wall next to the door. You watched as he locked it. He was all angles and lines and delicious as hell. He wore soft pants and a plain T-shirt. For some reason, you always imagined that he walked around naked in his home. It was wishful thinking, maybe, but still. He seemed the type to not want to be obstructed in any way. Free.

That freedom drew you to him. He was completely in control of who he was. He owned everything. His warts and all. And still he walked around proudly. Like he owned the world and they just didn’t know it yet. 

“We’ve been working hard the past few weeks,” you said. You hadn’t exactly prepared a speech, but how did one exactly launch into begging to be fucked? 

“We have,” he said. A smirk played on his lips and you hated him. You craved him but you hated that you would never get the chance to unravel him. To twist him to pieces like he did to you. You doubted that he stayed up all night, rock hard, unable to get relief because he wasn’t buried inside of you. 

Your clit throbbed and you shook your head. Focus. 

“And we know that rest is important. It was practically a requirement on Asgard,” you said. You missed the feasts and jovial mood that clung to Asgard. You partied for birthdays, weddings, funerals, and any occasion under the sun. There was a full moon? Feast. A rare comet? Feast. 

“True,” Loki said. 

The bastard wasn’t going to make this easy. Fine. You came prepared. You untied the belt of your jacket and let it fall to the floor. Underneath, you wore an emerald bra and panties set. The bra pushed your tits together to give you a pretty cleavage and the panties spanned the expanse of your sexy ass. 

In taking care of your siblings and pretending that everything was fine, you lost yourself. The person you were on Asgard. Asgardians had to be a resilient people. Your home was on the edge of a universe, a veritable rock hurtling through space. You survived the destruction of your world, the ship, half of the universe gone. But the gods conspired to put you and Loki here and now. 

It was high time you took the gift the gods offered. Loki’s eyes darkened as he took in your body. He took a deep breath as his eyes roamed up and down. 

“I’ve no mood for games, Darling,” he said. His voice sent shivers down your spine. It was so deep and soothing. 

You crossed the short distance to him. Your heels still didn’t touch how tall he was. You pressed your chest against his. Your palms traveled from his chest, up and around his neck. You pulled him to you and kissed him. 

He reacted instantly, his hands coming around your waist and pulling you closer. Your core rubbed against his thickening erection and you hummed. His lips were divine as they moved with yours, suckling your bottom lip. 

“No games, Loki. I just want you,” you whispered against his lips. 

He drew away from you and looked down into your eyes. “Who are you?” He asked. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

You giggled. “I’m your Darling,” you said. You began to slide down his body, keeping eye contact. You sank to your knees. The carpet really was soft and your knees felt fine kneeling like this. 

“You wanted to hear me beg and burn for you. To give me what I want. Well, I’m taking it. We both deserve it,” you said. You watched his expression turn from suspicion to anticipation as he watched your hands. 

You tugged on the sides of his pants until they slipped over his slim hips. He wore no underwear. His dick sprang free and bobbed stiffly. You rubbed your nose across the head of his dick and he hissed. 

“I can’t keep fighting you, Loki,” you said. After the entire breakdown in his office, you had to come to the realization that you were hurting yourself. Punishing yourself beyond what was normal. You had a life before. Filled with laughter and a carefree attitude. You were somebody before. And you wanted to be someone again. 

You wanted to feel alive again. You wanted to take pleasure where you wanted. You were tired of the feverish dreams. You were tired of the pining. There were a few times that you watched Loki work and you got so hot and bothered, you had to fan your sweaty thighs.

You gave yourself permission to want him. And that unlocked some part of you. All the aspects of your personality that you repressed came flooding to the surface. 

You ran your tongue down one side of his dick and up the other. Loki groaned and threw his head back against the wall. “Be very sure, Darling,” he said. 

You smirked. You stroked his dick with your hands, using beads of his precum to wet the head. He licked his lips as he focused on you. 

“I need you, Loki,” you said. You blinked at him as you took him into your mouth. 

“Gods,” he moaned and his eyes crossed. 

“I know I’ve been difficult. Those were my issues to get over. But you helped me. And now I want to return the favor,” you said. 

You suckled the head of his dick, taking sick pleasure in the way he writhed and moaned against the wall. It was sheer willpower keeping him standing as you bobbed your head. His hands caressed your cheeks. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail so there was nothing to move out of his way. He didn’t need to worry about anything but pleasure. Nothing but your mouth on him. 

“You’re the furthest thing from difficult, Darling,” he croaked. 

The praise only made you work harder. You let him go with a wet pop and fisted his dick. You stroked him, switching pressure and twisting as you went. His hips jerked towards you. You took him back into your mouth with a needy moan. You loved the saltiness of him. He smelled like him, like sin made flesh. You hummed as you pleased him and his mouth worked but no sound came out. 

He chuckled as you continued, going faster and faster, bobbing your head and suckling. A mix of saliva drooled down the side of your face. He wiped it away and let you see the unbridled lust in his eyes. It made your pussy ache. To plead with no words that it needed him inside of you. 

“I need you, Loki. I need you inside of me,” you told him. After each word, your mouth dipped to his dick. Your filthy slobbering echoed in his living room. He was not selfish with his moans. He gave excellent feedback, letting you know that you were pleasuring him how he liked. 

You knew by now how to make him really go crazy. You increased your speed, going faster than you would have dared. Your hands stroked his thighs and his ass. His moans turned desperate, his grip on your cheeks sloppy. 

“Oh gods,” he moaned before busting inside of your mouth. His pulsing cum splashed down your throat and you sucked up everything he gave you. You licked the side of your mouth where some escaped. 

Loki went slack against the wall and he wiped his wet hair away from his temple. He panted as if he ran a marathon and grabbed your face. He kissed you, licking the inside of your mouth. Anything his tongue could reach. 

“Is this what you’ve been hiding from me for all these years? This little vixen?” He asked. He returned to kissing you, preventing you from answering. He kissed the corner of your mouth, your jawline, and your neck. Tingles of pleasure ran through you. But you weren’t done begging.

You stood up from your knees, Loki helping you the rest of the way. He was so strong. In so many ways.

You pushed his pants further down and made him step out of it. Then you yanked his shirt completely off, leaving him bare. Your hungry eyes raked over him. Taking in every delicious inch of him. His broad chest, his abs, his powerful thighs. 

You took his hand and led him to the couch. You pushed him down and straddled his lap. His hands ran greedily over your ass and you moaned. You cupped his neck and played with his hair while you settled onto his lap. 

You leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I want you,” you said. You kissed him again and licked his lips. 

He hummed low in the back of his throat. His hands moved up your back and then back to squeeze your ass. “I do love hearing you say that,” he said. “Your mouth could order my destruction and I’d find a way to make it happen.” 

“Never. You get on my fucking nerves, Loki. But it’s only because I wanted to deny how much I craved you. Have always craved you. On Asgard, you would have never looked twice at me. Here, it’s only because I work so closely with you.” 

Loki’s hand came up to grab your neck and he squeezed. “Don’t you ever say that again,” he said. His eyes were like twin flames of sapphire. “I would be drawn to you anywhere. Though you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, you’re so much more than your beauty. Your strength, your protectiveness, and that mouth. Hmm,” he hummed and turned your head to the side. He licked your neck and you shuddered. “The dreams I’ve had about that mouth.”

You were still Loki’s plaything. You were on top of him. You just gave him an incredible orgasm. And yet with one move, you were back at his mercy. It only made you smile. You were the furthest thing from healed that you could possibly get. You had leagues to go before you understood all of your issues. 

However, the thought of him being in control didn’t scare you half as much as it did a few weeks ago. Once you gave yourself permission to feel, everything came flooding in. And the loudest thought among them was that you wanted him so badly, you thought you were going to combust. 

You tugged on his hair and he drew his head back with a moan. “Fine. I want you. I’ve been wanting you. I want your dick inside of me. I want you to please me. I want you to claim me. Destroy me. Ruin me for any other man,” you said. You kissed a hot trail of fire up his neck, licking in strategic places, making him hiss with pleasure. 

Loki chuckled darkly. His thumb stroked over your pulse point. He could squeeze the life out of you right now and there wouldn’t be a thing you could do to stop him. Almost as if he could read your thoughts, he pressed a little harder and you gasped. 

He brought his hands back to your ass and squeezed your flesh under your panties. He kneaded and massaged your ass and you squirmed on top of him. Your pussy was dripping wet already and he hasn’t really touched you where you needed him. 

He took a deep breath and let it go slowly. It fanned over your chest. “Would that I had the power to stop time, we would never leave. My idea of ruin would leave you a pathetic, useless mess as I fucked you any way i saw fit,” he said.

You moaned at his filthy words. At the dark promise of seduction in the cadence of his voice. 

He hummed as he moved one of his hands to the front, pushing your panties aside and feeling how wet you were. He groaned in satisfaction. “Ah, my little Darling likes that, don’t you? You want to be used like a filthy whore?” He asked.

Your thighs tingled. You bit your lip and moaned. Words were too complicated for you. But you forced yourself to look at him. To show him how needy you were. His fingers traced the outline of your pussy lips and entrance and you whined. 

“Please,” you whispered. It’d been too fucking long. Too fucking long that you allowed yourself the touch of someone else. You were glad you waited. You were glad that Loki saw right through you. You were glad that Loki was there to rediscover this side of you. 

“I think you can beg better than that, Darling,” he said. He kissed your cheek and pulled back to watch your face. 

You huffed a laugh, too wound up to make a scathing remark. You still had some dignity. It was nothing in comparison to his thumb tracing just outside where you needed him.

“Please, Loki. Please. I can’t fuckin’ stand it. Not having your hands on me. Your lips on mine,” you said. You twisted your hips, grinding into him. Trying to take what he didn’t want to readily give. 

He tsked at you. “Impatient. You want it that badly?” He asked. His face was a cruel mix of mockery and interest. He could throw you off of him right now and he’d enjoy it either way. You were grateful that he just wanted to play with you.

You stared into his eyes and nodded desperately. “Please, I want it so badly. So badly,” you said. You kept grinding on his hand, running his hand back and forth while he kept it still. His free hand gripped your thigh, a solid weight. 

“How badly?” He asked. His eyes darkened once more, the God of Mischief making his full debut. 

“I’ll do anything,” you said. 

He grinned, bordering on mania. “Anything?” He asked. His thumb pressed between your pussy lips, skimming the surface of your clit. Your hips jerked and you cried out at the sensation. You were so fucking close. You thought he might play with you a little, for taking so long to come around, but this was near torture.  

“Anything. Fuck, Loki, please, I can’t anymore,” you cried. You sounded weary to your own ears. 

Loki ground his hips into you, making his thumb finally touch your clit. “No more fighting me, Darling. Wherever, whenever I want you. At the club, at your place, in the middle of a store, anywhere I want to bury myself inside you. Clear?” He asked. 

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. You couldn’t concentrate as his thumb circled your clit in wide circles, driving your pleasure to new heights. However, you were coherent enough to catch the gist of his words. He wanted to use you whenever he wanted. The thought alone made you cry out and nod.

“Fuck, yes! I’ll do it, please,” you begged. You buried your head into his chest, unable to keep your head up. Loki chuckled darkly as he finally gave in. He increased the pressure on your clit and you moaned and whined and shook on top of him. In no time, you shivered as you came, your body turning limp and pliant. 

“Gods,” you moaned as the pleasure finally eased. You felt more relaxed than you had in five long years. You huffed against him as he held you close to him. He hummed as he licked your juices from his fingers. 

“You’re quite welcome,” he said. You laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“Shut up,” you said. 

He peppered you with kisses as your body slowly recovered from the orgasm. That was nothing like what you were able to wring from yourself. The very act of Loki touching you made everything more heightened, more sensitive. It was insane how your body reacted to him. 

His lips found yours and you sat there contendly, kissing him slowly. “Not that I'm not grateful, but what inspired this?” 

You smiled. “As if you haven’t been driving me crazy since you first kissed me,” you said. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “I was prepared for your stubbornness to outlast my patience,” he said. 

You played with his silky hair. Your head was on his shoulder and it hit you, that you didn’t want to be anywhere else. It used to frighten you. But you couldn’t keep the world out forever and then cry about not being seen. Heard. It scared you more that you would leave this new existence never having been a part of it.

“It was exhausting,” you said. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face at the moment. You weren’t quite brave enough to look him in the eye and say this. 

“I turned myself into a shell of who I used to be in order to make amends for living where my family couldn’t. For not grabbing my best friend and moving her next to me, to survive. It wasn’t my fault, I always knew that. But I still survived. I’m still here and they’re not. But then, that’s just wasting the chance I was given. I’m still here and it sucks, but it doesn’t have to be as painful as I’ve been making it.”

You picked your head up and looked at him. This you could say to his face. “And when I look at you, when I’m near you, I feel good. Like myself. I want to keep feeling that way. I love the way I feel when you look at me. Even when you tease me,” you said. You leaned down and kissed him. 

He swept his tongue across your lips and you gasped. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. Then he moved it to his hardening dick. “Do you feel what you do to me?” He asked. 

You nodded. He stroked your hand up and down his dick. The velvet thickness of him made your pussy contract. Your mouth watered, wanting to taste him again. 

“The only thing I’ve done is make sure that you don’t give up on yourself. I’ve wanted you then, I want you now. All of you. Anyway, I can have you.” 

You kissed him as you stroked him. His words were too much. Tears stung your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You were finally getting what you wanted. There would be time for talking later. You loved that you were so familiar with each other, that you could have these quiet moments. But you came here for dick. 

You kissed up his neck, along his strong jaw, up to his ear. You teased the lobe between your teeth and felt his dick twitch in your hand. “Use me, Loki,” you whispered. 

A full body shiver passed through Loki. He grinned slowly and you had a fleeting moment of fear. Your words were the key to something. Because he stood up with you in his arms and you yelped. You clung to him, not used to being off of the ground so high. His malicious chuckle sent tingles up your thighs as he walked you to his bedroom. 

Here, the room was surprisingly bright. You thought he’d have black sheets and dark walls. But his walls were a lighter shade of blue and his sheets a deep, royal green. His furniture wasn’t as dark as you pictured either. His windows were open, letting in a soft breeze from outside. 

Loki laid you on the bed, lifting your hands above your head, and remained standing. He stood there in naked glory and studied your body. Your body felt electric under his gaze. Like you hovered in front of an electric fence. Loki kept a dark, manic gleam in his eye. You watched as his eyes glowed green and vines wrapped around your wrists.

You looked up and your hands were bound together and pulled against his headboard. “Loki?” You asked. 

“You asked me to use you, Darling,” he said. He waved his hand and a blindfold slid over your eyes. You jerked and tried to sit up. 

“Loki?” An edge of panic crept into your voice. 

Loki shushed you. The bed dipped as he leaned over you and kissed you. The feel of his lips on yours slowly relaxed you. “Trust me, Darling.” He kissed your ear and didn’t move. Leaving the decision up to you.

You came here to be ruined and by the gods, by the literal god above you, you were going to enjoy yourself. So you nodded and relaxed against the bed. Loki released a breath as if he was prepared for you to tell him stop. He kissed along your body, his hands trailing behind where he just kissed.

He rested his head against your chest and hummed. “You knew what you were doing when you wore this, didn’t you?” He asked.

You couldn’t see a thing past the blindfold he conjured. You could only rely on feeling, hearing, and smell. It turned you on that you were at his mercy. “Yes,” you said. 

He chuckled. His teeth grabbed the piece of fabric in between your breasts and he tugged, releasing it with a snap. The tiny sting made you hiss. You squeezed your thighs together, needing more. You were desperate for him to get inside you. 

“Please, Loki. No teasing,” you said. You will have plenty of chances in the future for teasing. For learning each other's bodies. You wanted to get fucked. 

Loki only chuckled. “I finally get to fuck you and you want me to rush?” He asked.

“Yes, please,” you said. He licked your chest, right beneath your bra. Your breath stuttered in your chest. 

“I will do whatever the hell I want with you. Including, taking my time to savor this offering,” he said. 

His hands gripped your knees and pried your legs apart. You gasped at the dichotomy of his soft, commanding voice and the way he gripped you. He kissed a wet trail down your tummy, nibbling in certain places, before descending between your legs. 

He pressed his nose there and inhaled deeply, moaning. “You smell delicious,” he said. He licked the outside of your panties and your hips jerked off of the bed.

Mistakes may have been made. You were prepared for a cruel, hard fucking. The type of deep, satisfied fucking that left you walking funny the next morning. Not this torture. Not the glee he took in holding himself back. 

He hummed again. He licked the sensitive area between your thigh and your pussy and you moaned. “Fuck,” you said. 

He chuckled and did it again and again, making you squirm. “You’re so responsive, Darling. I’m only sad it took us so long to get here. Guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time, hm?” 

He licked the spot again and your leg jerked. This so wasn’t fair. “Please, Loki,” your voice was a ragged mess.

“I’ll never tire of the way you beg,” he said. “Lucky for you, I’ve been dreaming of tasting you. Licking this sweet pussy of yours.” He kissed your thigh, gripped it in his large hands and squeezed. He bit your other thigh and you cried out. 

He hooked your legs around his arms and spread them further. He moved your panties to the side and blew a breath across your pussy. You squirmed and made a little mewling sound. 

He hummed and ran his tongue down the seam of your pussy lips. You panted and huffed, unable to handle this type of teasing. His thumbs spread you open to him and he sighed. “Even prettier than I imagined,” he whispered. 

Surely he saw how painfully you clenched. How wet he made you. You could feel yourself leaking already. 

He wiggled his tongue against your clit, and you jerked away from him. He pulled down his arms, pulling you flush against him. He continued to wiggle and wrangle his tongue around your clit, drawing out undignified sounds from you. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned. You squirmed but there was nowhere to go. No choice but to accept what he did. The way he made slow, concentrated circles on your clit. He hummed and moaned as your arousal continued to leak out of you. 

Your moans echoed off of his walls. His hums of pleasure vibrated on your clit. The rumble in his chest tickled the back of your thighs. Your hands pulled against the restraints. You wanted to touch him. Feel him. His hair draped across your belly and thighs. You wanted to feel it wrapped around your fingers. 

“Taste so fucking good. Cum for me, my Darling,” he said. He kept up the pressure, kept circling, and suckling. Your body twitched and jerked until you finally came with a loud, obnoxious moan. 

Your thighs squeezed his head as heat and pleasure suffused you. Sounds escaped you, but none of them were words. You were tense with explosive pleasure. You flopped onto the bed when you were done and Loki licked up everything you gushed out. He hummed as you jerked from the intense pleasure. 

Loki kissed your thighs, leaving sloppy wet kisses everywhere. “I wish you could see the sight of you right now,” he murmured. “Spread open for me. Letting me see this pussy. Tied up.” 

Each of his words were like a stab of pleasure into your belly. Your stomach twisted with desire, even after the orgasm you just had. 

“Please, please,” you chanted. Your wrists were getting rubbed raw from pulling against the restraints. “Let me feel you. Let me see you,” you begged.

“No.” Loki yanked at your panties, ripping them from your body. 

“Hey!” 

Loki chuckled. “I’ll buy you more,” he said. 

“That’s not the point. I liked those,” you complained. 

Loki chuckled as he climbed up your body, kissing as he went along. “Get used to it. I’ll rip every single pair of panties you own. They’re in my way,” he said. He settled his hips in between your legs and you moaned. His thick dick rubbed against your sensitive clit. 

“I can take them off.” Your voice was breathy. Finally, finally. Instead of entering you, Loki ripped your bra off. 

“Aw, come on. Those are expensive!” 

Insults sprang to your lips but his lips around your exposed nipple made you cry out instead. “Shit,” you said and jerked. The suctioning pressure sent ripples of pleasure through your body, making your clit throb in time with your pulse. 

He bit in between your breasts and then focused his attention on your other nipple. “I’ll buy you anything you require, Darling. Anything. Ask me for the moon and I’ll steal it for you,” he said. 

You tried to chuckle, but moans were dragged from you whether you wanted it or not. There was no way to be entirely sexy while at someone’s mercy. You heard your desperate moans. Your keening whines. 

“There’s nothing I would deny you,” he said. He groaned as swirled his tongue over your nipple. He entered you, on one fell swoop, and your back left the bed as you bucked. 

It was glorious. It transcended words. He slipped in easily, but he was still wide. He still stretched you. Your legs were plastered to the bed as he pounded into you. There was no gentleness here. There was no teasing, no grinding. This was fucking. He fucked you, used you like a personal pleasure toy. His groans were louder than yours. 

“Gods, the way you feel,” he said and chuckled. “There was no way to imagine this.” You knew he was talking to you, but it also felt like he was talking more to himself. He slammed into you, your body rocking into the bed with each brutal thrust. 

His usual calm demeanor slipped from him. His hips jerked, his hands searched everywhere. He didn’t know if he wanted to grab your thighs, your breasts, your hips. His hands roamed everywhere as he kept up his punishing rhythm. 

“Loki, Loki, Loki,” you chanted. Your orgasm crested new heights, building and building, yearning for the precipice. “Cum, Darling, cum,” he commanded. 

You detonated beneath him. He drove his hips in further, hitting your G-spot and you cried and bucked off of the bed. You squeezed the hell out of his dick and he cried out one more time, before joining you. His hips stuttered as he unloaded inside of you, shooting his cum into your warm, wet pussy. 

Your body writhed as you came, out of your control, and not the least bit scary. Tears sprang to your eyes again, the immense intensity robbed you of all thought. “Oh Darling,” Loki moaned as the tears slipped past your blindfold. 

His dick twitched inside your entrance and you filed that information away for later. Your mouth turned dry. You should have known better than to play with a god. He was insane. Built for pleasure. He had hundreds of years to perfect this. To build up the skills necessary to make you cum with just a crook of his fingers. Gods, how you loved it. 

He slipped out slowly, he was still partially hard. He ripped the blindfold off of you. The low light was enough to burn your eyes. Loki wiped away the tears on your face and smiled at you. 

You smiled back and he kissed you. He licked your nose and then your lips. “I want another one,” he said.

“What?” 

He leaned back and picked you up like you were nothing. He flipped you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling your ass into the air. You groaned as he spread you open. “I don’t have another one,” you complained. 

He chuckled as he slapped your ass, watching it jiggle. He groaned. “Find one,” he said.

Then, he slammed his hips back into you, his dick spearing into you. He was on a mission. Fucking you, pounding you. You twisted your head to look at him a bit. His head was thrown back, his hair a twisted mess about his shoulders. He looked like he was in another realm of pleasure, that there was only you and him and the unadulterated bliss bouncing between you. 

He slapped your ass again and you used your elbows for leverage, to throw your ass back on him. To match his long strokes. He angled his hips and hit your G-spot. He wrapped your ponytail around his hand, down to the scrunchie and pulled. You began to ramble, cry, and moan as he kept hitting that spot. He used it for target practice, hitting it and enjoying the sounds you made.

“That’s it, Darling. Bounce on this cock. Crave it. I’ll give it to you anytime you need. When you can’t think straight. When you’re so blind with pleasure that you’ll let me take you whenever I want. I will remake you how I want,” he said. 

Your body wound too tight. Like a rubber band snapping, you came once more. Dark spots winked in and out of your vision. You moaned into the sheets, flooding his dick with your arousal. He talked you through it.

“You beautiful fucking creature,” he moaned. Each word was a deeper stroke. On the last word, he came and stuffed you full of cum again. The hot, bursting cum leaked out of you and down your thighs. 

You groaned and shivered as the last dregs of the orgasm wore you out. You sniffled as you collapsed onto the bed. Loki’s huffs fanned across your back as he gripped you and held you still.

His dick stopped twitching and he left you on a slow glide. He collapsed next to you. You barely kept your eyes open. 

“Loki,” you whimpered. You felt like a used mess. When a god delivered, he really delivered. 

“Come here, Darling,” he said. He maneuvered you until you were tucked against him. He conjured a warm washcloth and cleaned you up. You groaned at the feeling. You couldn’t take anymore. He shushed you and kissed your cheeks. He cleaned you off and then tossed the cloth to the floor. 

He pulled you against him and snuggled his face into your neck. “Rest well, Darling. There’s lots more to come.” 

You relaxed against him instantly. As if he commanded that too. Perhaps he did. You didn’t care. You snuggled into the furnace of his body. His heat enveloped you. He raised a blanket over the two of you and you were out like a light.

Masterlist | Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Loki Files #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Black reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x Fem reader #Loki x reader #x reader #x Black reader #Loki x you #Loki imagine #Loki fanfic #Loki fan fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki fan fiction #Loki smut #Marvel smut

[spacexseven]

dream (of me)

as mentioned in an ask before, this fic was inspired by a video of a life sized sculpture. also this is very very self-indulgent :> (actually i really don't like the title, but i couldn't think of anything else. one of these days i'll finally learn how to write a proper title)

—the line between fantasy and reality is thin

cw: breaking in, stalking, imprisonment

you didn't think you'd be spending your long-awaited break on making this—disregarding the money you spent on the boxes and boxes of clay; the same money you were saving for a fun little trip—you never considered yourself much of an artist. but who would have thought that things would turn out in such a way, ending in your trip getting canceled, and you picking up sculpting? you never really tried it before, simply because of how daunting the challenge was—not only did you have to give depth and color to your sculpture, you'd have to gently mold it to the perfect shape, painstakingly carve out the details and smoothen the surface. you couldn't slack on any part of the process despite how irritating it would become. you'd have to give it life, the kind that art gives, with your own hands, changing the inanimate lump of clay into a part of an almost realistic image.

maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration—you had only made a few small things with modeling clay before this, and it was unlikely you'd do as good as a job as you'd like. today marked the start of your first big project, a life-sized sculpture. after spending hours glued to your screen as countless videos played, and finally deciding to go for it a week ago, you were obstructed by what should have been a simple decision—stumped about what to sculpt. making one of yourself felt a little awkward, and you didn't really want to try recreating a celebrity. just when you were about to settle for making an animal, strangely enough, the answer came to you in a dream.

when you went to sleep a few nights ago, you had a strangely vivid dream of an ethereal person—someone so mystical that it felt otherworldly. that unexpected vision seized your mind and you decided—that was who you'd sculpt. despite it having been days since that dream, even the most minute details were still fresh in your memory. the gleaming fangs, sharp and delicate, the glossy, dark hair, the smooth voice that wrapped around a single word—too muddled to decipher—the shaky echoes of which reverberated within every corner of your mind, the unreadable expression in his eyes, glowing lowly in the dark, and the unmistakable pair of horns. he was not human; you were sure of it. even before catching a glimpse of those beautiful horns, you felt it, deep inside, that he was something very different from you. the moment his hand, manicured black nails contrasting with fair skin, gripped your forearm firmly, right before he uttered that word, a peculiar sensation overcame you. a sense of dread and fear washed over you, but at the moment you were unable to move or to wake up.

whoever he was, whatever he was—regardless of whether he was even real in the first place, you knew you were going to sculpt him. if your mind was clear, you wouldn't have attempted to make this, knowing you'd probably just mess up the picture of someone so beautiful, but you felt like that vision had bewitched you. you couldn't stop yourself from following through with it once the idea settled in your mind. muttering a quick word of encouragement to yourself, you finally start, eyeing the boxes of clay and heap of wires nervously.

it had been a couple weeks since you started your little project, and you had made considerable progress. the proportions surprisingly worked out right, and despite the uncontrollable slight trembling of your hands, the features you began carving were mostly realistic. you quickly realized you probably wouldn't be able to work on anything below the shoulders, not having enough clay or energy, but that helped you focus on the face. you could have sworn, though, that last night the nose looked a little high and the eyes a little too wide apart from your recollection of the man, yet when you had woken up, it was perfect. an eerily splitting image of the man from your dreams except for the fact that it was gray and pliable.it had been a couple weeks since you started your little project, and you had made considerable progress. the proportions surprisingly worked out right, and despite the uncontrollable slight trembling of your hands, the features you began carving were mostly realistic. you quickly realized you probably wouldn't be able to work on anything below the shoulders, not having enough clay or energy, but that helped you focus on the face. you could have sworn, though, that last night the nose looked a little high and the eyes a little too wide apart from your recollection of the man, yet when you had woken up, it was perfect. an eerily splitting image of the man from your dreams except for the fact that it was gray and pliable.

as you firmly reshaped the jaw with your fingers, you thought back to your dream. honestly, it was impressive how accurate you had gotten the image so far. the sharp lines that made the eyes, if colored, would look just like those from your memory. could you make these glow, too? the slope of the nose, looking perfectly natural, and the pointed ears—somehow, you just knew the exact shape of them despite how much of it was blocked by his hair. speaking of, his locks, although they were made of clay, fell just as gracefully on his forehead and splayed over his shoulders in that effortless way he had it.

honestly, you were impressed by your own work. you couldn't believe you did all this by yourself.

you try to think back to the shape of his mouth, the fangs inside of it—how did something so deadly look so elegant? it suited him. on him, the feature that should have your instincts kicking in and forcing you to run, made him look all the more charming and drew you in. you can remember he was wearing something quite outlandish, a finely crafted outfit, though one very different from your usual clothes, with something resembling a wide collar around his neck—you'd have to remember to make that.

although you had never made anything remotely similar to its shape, it was surprisingly easy to make the curved horns that rested on his head. while you could've sworn you initially made them a little smaller and smoother, the slightly bigger size and ridged texture did resemble the real thing better. of course, since your sleeping hours were so inconsistent, it was normal to have blanks in your memory. you probably worked on it when you were half asleep in the dead of the night.

after finally finishing up the details, you put aside the paint you mixed earlier for the last part of the project. the shades were a little unlike what you were expecting, but you had to make do. you were actually quite disappointed with it, thinking it might ruin the overall sculpture if the colors looked wrong, but even if you wanted to do it again, it would be a waste of money to get more. these were close enough, you supposed. under the right lighting, it would be somewhat accurate, and nobody but you had seen that mystery man anyway. with that thought, and one last, lingering look at the gray creation that sat on your working table, you switched off the lights and left the room.

there was no way this was your work.

you squint at the little bottles of paint, confused by what you were seeing. no, you remember, when you left these last night, the colors were different. the green for the eyes was dull, the dark array of green, blue, and black for the hair was drab and unnatural, and the colors you picked to paint the skin were all tinted with gray. the mixed paints you were seeing now, however, were anything but. the colors were rich and vibrant, an exact match, and if you looked closely enough, it was almost as if they were glowing.

you're sure the paint didn't look like this last night. at first, there wasn't even an inkling of doubt in you, because you could remember your dilemma last night, worrying about the color and not being able to fix it. but then, what happened? there was no logical explanation for this phenomenon—unless the paint was supposed to turn lighter over time, even then, that wouldn't explain the completely different shades. The vibrant, rich colors were nothing close to the abomination you had last night.

a small part of you was worried, fretting about what this could mean, but a larger, louder part of you insisted there wasn't any need to look too deeply into this. even if someone broke in, why would they have stopped by to mix paint for you? and how would they have known the exact colors you needed? it was very possible that under the dim lighting and through your tired eyes, the color seemed a lot more different than it actually was, but now, well-rested and energized, you saw it for what it always was.

deciding to put your doubts behind you for now, you prepare to paint. you've come this far, and you desperately prayed you wouldn't mess up this next part, fearing that all your efforts would be in vain otherwise.

slowly, you begin to see it come together. it took tediously long for each layer to be completed, mainly due to your increasingly frequent breaks. even then, by the end of the day, you were mostly completed. with painting the face. you took a break and had your dinner, glancing back at the sculpture with exhaustion obvious on your face. you weren't sure what you were subconsciously expecting from making this, slaving away for weeks by now, but you were relieved it was almost over and mostly accurate.

although you knew you should leave the details for last, you had a strong urge to paint the eyes. you felt like painting the eyes would bring the work to life. those vivid, glowing eyes were forever burned into your memory, and you thought it to be one of the most beautiful things about that man. well...even if you messed up, it was alright. after all, it wasn't like you were making this to be evaluated by others. seized by the idea, you quickly grabbed the airbrush and set to work, the paint glowing unusually bright, ominously in its container.

until you entered the room, your morning had been perfectly normal. nothing was out of place, and nothing felt different. but once you glanced over at where the sculpture was resting overnight, you were taken aback by the sudden extra presence in the room with you. looming over your desk, cradling the almost finished sculpture to their chest, was a mysterious cloaked figure. you watched, mesmerized by the scene as the stranger held your weeks' worth of hard work to their eye, closely studying it. they turned the sculpture around to further observe the details, and when they raised it up to the light, you recognized the hand that caressed the stained clay, the sight of glossy black nails still fresh in your memory. as you stand, frozen in place, the intruder slowly turns around. after a few moments pass in silence, he finally spoke.

"i see," his eyes and tone betray no emotion to you, "that you received it."

you're not sure what it he's referring to here. the initial dream you had of him, perhaps? or the convenient, unacknowledged help throughout the process—the meticulously mixed colors, and the little modifications? was that his work, after all? the lingering question of what you had gotten yourself into echoed in your mind. regardless, you can't manage a response yet, still unable to completely process what was unfolding.

"i appreciate your efforts very much. this is a truly wonderful creation, and almost identical to me. it is only right that i give you something in return, yes?" your lack of response doesn't seem to bother him, "well, what should you like? or would you prefer it if i were to pick out something for you?"

"you can leave."

you're not sure where the courage to say that came from, but you force yourself to hold back anything that would break your fragile facade and fix the scowl on your face. even if he was beautiful and something otherworldly, this wasn't right, or safe. how did he even get inside? why was he here?

he seems to think over your reply and takes a few, slow steps towards the door but stops to glance back at you, heavy cloak brushing the floor with every slight movement, "that wasn't what you really wish for, right? i can only give you something you wholeheartedly desire. in order to respect the thought and effort put behind this," he gestures at the statue, and it only occurs to you now that he was still holding it. strangely enough, the thing seemed to be glowing a faint green, "i should give you something just as meaningful. if you're too shy to say anything, i can just as easily find out myself."

"the only thing i want is for you to leave," you feel a tinge of regret as you look at the sculpture, thinking back to the painstaking process of making it, "take that if you want, but leave me alone now."

"you don't want to let go of it," he smiles wryly, "you want something more than just that..."

he's making his way over to you, yet you can't hear a thing. even as you can see his heeled boots landing sharply on the tiles, his cloak sweeping over them right after, you can't make out a single click of the heels, or anything else, for the matter. it's as though your head was underwater, ears waterlogged and unable to capture any sound coming your way. it didn't help that your head felt heavier, too, as he came closer and closer, glowing pupils locked onto your cowering frame. you knew he was tall already, but with the way you were sinking onto the floor, he felt, and looked, like he was towering over you, above you—as though emphasizing the difference between you and him, in both power and position, if his demeanor so far told you anything so far.

"dearest, there is nothing wrong with desiring," although he was speaking softly, his words seemed to echo around the room, bouncing off one wall to the other and slamming back into you, "even if the...subject of your desire seems impossibly far away—i would know better than anyone else. what i'm trying to say is, if you were to accept your true desires, you would only be reciprocating mine."

you blink owlishly up at the stranger, feeling something stirring in your stomach. he was so beautiful but dangerous. how ironic was it that there was something so alluring about that danger, that darkness that surrounds him? it only added to his mesmerizing beauty.

"we've never met before, have we?"

"not that you might be aware of, but i have caught a glimpse of you before. can you imagine, for me to be so taken with you by just the fleeting moment that you walked past, how deeply you have struck me? how devoted i am to you, who knows not of my existence?" there's a wistful expression on his face as he answers your question, a faraway look in his eyes before he grounds himself again, watching you once more.

"i would like to bring you somewhere," he finally breaks the building silence, gesturing to the empty air beside him, "perhaps, we will find something that suits your tastes there, if you can't find it in me."

"i don't even know your name," you protest weakly. deep down, you were already convinced. you had a feeling he knew that you were, too.

"my dearest," there's a slight frown threatening to mar the perfectly balanced expression he adorned, and despite yourself, you feel upset at disappointing him, "my name would not be familiar to you. but if it pleases you, you may call me malleus. now, would you follow me for a while? i want to show you everything i am, and everything i can be for you."

he has, you note, a manner of speaking that never failed in captivating you, almost hypnotizingly. you had to force yourself to not get deceived by the syrupy tone and the tempting offer. you were already so bored, and a trip to some mystical, unknown place was oddly enticing, more than it should have been. the dangers and the risks associated with it flew over your head, so bewitched by the person in front of you. and when he peered into your eyes, something so raw and desperate, yearning shining in his orbs—or was that just the natural glowing color it had? still, when he was looking at you so deeply, a forlorn expression on display—

"if only you open your heart to me, my love, you'll see that mine was always in your hands."

—how could you say no after that?

he conjures a mirror from behind his back, large and gleaming. you don't even stop to consider how such a feat was possible. suddenly, the bright surface turns dark, a murky shade of green, and he reaches out to grab your hand. blindly—foolishly, you stumble behind him, into the darkness. around the two of you little green lights, bright and hypnotizing, fly around, as though creating an invisible barrier. even with the numerous little lights surrounding you, you find that you can't see a thing apart from him. you can feel his hand still wrapped around yours, and for some reason, you haven't tried to pull away. or maybe, you did try, but he wouldn't let go. you can't quite tell what was happening.

his honeyed words, his gentle voice, his firm grip, all of it hid from you from the cruel reality, and the impending aftermath. as you step out again, him close by your side and your hands still held in his, you're far too mystified by what feels like a whole new world you've walked into, to notice the mirror quickly shattering into pieces at his feet, turning into dust moments later. within an instant, it disappeared into nothingness, as though it was never there in the first place. who could blame you for not noticing, when the world stretched out in front of you was so different from anything you had ever seen before? the colors and the lights illuminated something beyond your understanding, and you were so taken by the sight that you hadn't stopped to consider what this all meant, being brought to a foreign world. you hadn't even thought about how you might return or when—naively believing your companion would bring you back.

how could you, as a regular person unaware of his world and its rules, have known that the mirror was your only way home?

#yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x you #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus 🐟 #twst x reader #twst 🐟 #fic 🐟

[lilithbaeastro]

Understanding SATRUN

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

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Saturn is the one of the most enigmatic planets where its fearful stories have far eclipsed the greatness & importance of what Saturn truly is. A proverb originating from early 17th century England, he who laughs last, laughs longest, very well sums up the role & importance of Saturn in our life. Saturn is responsible for our strength, perseverance, hard work, long life, motivation and strength of character.

Saturn is also responsible in helping us retain all the good luck, deeds and health that we are born with. Saturn helps us absorb & retain the vitality that the Sun brings on this planet.

 Like we forget that darkness is nothing but the absence of light & cold is an absence of heat, similarly weakness of Saturn is the absence of karma, good intent, honesty and determination in life. A strong Saturn brings the ability to live long, live with dignity & power. It’s like a tree with deep roots, which will shake in the bad weather of destiny but will not fall down.

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The unique thing about Saturn is that is doesn’t have any good or bad positions (except for a couple of placements). What is important while judging Saturn is the strength and its ability to do good or bad. Mostly Saturn’s interpretations focus just on its negative side of inflicting delays & obstructions, ignoring its other contributions that build up good health, longevity and ability to wait for destiny's turn when the time is right.

Rewarding Saturn: Gives you a deep urge to succeed and the lasting power at work when it comes to the matter of career. It can make a great politician with big following, a union leader and the person of great public image, a celebrated lawyer or a judge and even a head of a conglomerate. The greatest of the scientists and successful careers are the works of the rewarding Saturn. It gives you long life with a rocking career, the capability of working hard, being meticulous and gaining favor from boss or people in authority are the boons of a rewarding Saturn. People with power & wealth in old age obviously have a strong Saturn. 

Punishing Saturn: Gives depressive tendencies, sadism and reclusive demeanor. It brings out delays in all milestones of life, like marriage, children, a lingering disease, trouble in earning & spending money, poor relationships, poor & bad appearance and troubles from all ends. The Punishing Saturn takes much out of your life and returns it only after much delay.

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[Satrun is one planet that most ppl take negatively but all in all, Satrun is YOUR KARMA that you create yourself.] ~and not my content

#astrology #writing #spirituality #art #ask blog #education #astro observations #astrology observations #saturn

[derpycat02]

Hot Take

Okay so now that I've been on the website instead of the app for a few days I have things to say I think.

The app is better (for me) than the website hands down. Easy. No competition. And no, this is not just because I am used to the app version. I actually thought this out.

Things the website does better than the app (to satisfy you long term tumblees):

I can delete a poll from my post if I accidentally click it thinking it is the listing format option. I do this a lot because listing is different than font type in every document editor ever, and there is no way to remove polls from drafted posts on mobile that I have found. The website puts a big fat red X in the top corner of the poll. This is helpful

Bigger screen = less overwhelm. The information to screen ratio is smaller which is less overwhelming for my skrunkly little brain. Also, since I have the pride theme activated (which was a bitch to try and find) all the extra space is pink!

More customization options. I haven't actually played with this, but it seems to be the thing that most Tumblr users use to say the website is better than the app. I did notice there were more options for themes when I finally figured out how to do that, which was cool. (On mobile, I'm pretty sure there are just 4 themes: light mode, dark mode, tumblr classic, and pride. I could be wrong though)

No push notifications. I have notifs turned on on mobile for all of the polls I follow, so I get like over 30 notifications from Tumblr alone overnight. It's very stressful, but I put up with it because it keeps me from missing voting times and ensures that I can go through and like every post that comes out from accounts that I am invested in. I know liking does nothing algorithm wise. I just like showing support and likes are a nice, quick, easy way to do that. Anyway, without the push notifications, I'm pretty much confined to me my feed, which I've never HAD to scroll before. The way I am now consuming content has become (mostly) more relaxed and less stress inducing.

Text formatting. I like that it's a drop down menu. In the app, It's just a button, and you have to press it repeatedly to get the format you want (this is fonts and listing specific).

Things mobile does better that the website

Navigation. Oh my gosh the app is SO much easier to navigate than the website. It took me less time comparatively to figure out how the app worked than it did for me to figure out how to do most things on the website. The website has been around longer, and therefore has the opportunity to be more complicated. The whole point of mobile apps is to be a simple, accessible way to go about navigating whatever the app is for. It's just easier to use.

Typing in posts. The amount of times my laptop has just randomly stopped typing in the middle of the post is ridiculous. It tends to happen when the "draft saved" bubble pops up, which makes me think it may be a glitch with the website rather than my computer. My computer also does not have this problem literally anywhere else. Also, the "draft saved" bubble, while cute and reassuring, obstructs my vision just a bit. There is so much dead space to either side. Why is this bubble not off to a side instead of right in the middle of where I am typing? It was also difficult for me to find the text formatting option, but this is mostly because I was not used to it.

GIFs. I do lots of propaganda, and to save space on my device I use gifs instead of going on the internet and downloading pictures and finding video links. I'm not always very good with words, and find that images tend to be more convincing anyway. On the mobile app, when I search something in the GIF search bar, it stays there even after I've made a selection. Not having to re-type my search 10 times makes it a lot easier and less monotonous to look for propaganda and fill up a post. This is not the case on the website. As I learned after attempting "Kitbull" propaganda, you have to re-type your search each time you add a new GIF. That got annoying really fast, and I only wound up putting two GIFs when I would normally use all image spaces (10).

Push Notifications. But I thought you said the website not doing this made consuming content less stressful??? I know what I said, and yes, for the most part, it does. However there are a lot more areas where the lack of push notifs on the website make my Tumblr experience a lot more stressful. For one thing, I am missing out on ALL of those polls. I follow SO MANY polls, because I was able to keep up with all of them as long as I had push notifications. I have not been able to vote in many polls this last week because I would have to go through and search every single one of their usernames exactly correct to find their pages and vote in my regular fashion. I simply do not have the time, energy, or memory to be able to do this. I also do not get notified when I am sent a message. I learned recently that most Tumblr users don't use the "share" function on posts, (via) however my girlfriend and I use it all the time. Our feeds consist of different interests that we like sharing with one another, so we share posts and polls back and forth just for funsies. To show that we love each other. Etc. etc. The website does not notify me when I get these messages unless I am actively in the tab, so I don't know when she's sent me something. Same goes for any interaction with my account or on my posts. I cannot see if someone has made a comment or a silly reblog with funny tags unless I am in the app. You know what the website DOES show me? How many new posts have been made. This is CONSTATLY refreshing even while I am actively scrolling and not only shows up in the app but also in the tab information. This is why I have such a problem with this. I understand that computers in general just don't do push notifications, but usually with social media, you can see how many notifications you have by checking the tab above the search bar. There's usually a little number in parenthesis next to the title or name of the social media you are using. This is very helpful for me, since my computer doesn't always give a little sound when I get any kind of notification, so I can just look over and see what I've missed while I was queuing up Spotify or playing Minesweeper or Solitaire. With Tumblr, this number only factors in the number of posts that I haven't seen yet. This number stressed me out, has me constantly refreshing the page even before I am done scrolling, and is not actually helpful in any capacity.

Page Jumping. Both the website and the app are dogwater at not jumping around the page while you scroll. However, the app is slightly less so. Page jumps in the mobile app only happen when an ad loads in where it wasn't before. This is pretty consistent with how any webpage, crappy mobile game, or social media app works on a phone (on my phone at least). When I'm scrolling anything I have to be careful to wait until all ads have loaded before I try pressing a button or I'll accidentally hit something I'm not supposed to. On the website on my computer, Tumblr page jumps every time I reblog. EVERY. TIME. Reblogging is, like, the currency of the realm. It is how things are meant to be done. I don't have the energy for a page jump every time I try to reblog something. That's gross.

Screenshots. This is admittedly more of a device difference than a Tumblr format difference, but it is affecting how I interact with Tumblr, so I thought I should put it on here. If you actually follow me and try to keep up with what I post (which isn't much) you know about my Untitled Bots threads. Essentially when I see a bot follow me, and their name is either blank or "Untitled" I screenshot it, crop it to the word "Untitled" and add it to the thread with a silly quip or lament or goofy photo. However, to make sure I don't miss any, I don't block and report these bots until after I've gotten a screenshot of their profile. Because it is so difficult to take and edit screenshots on my laptop specifically, I have not updated this thread even after being able to access Tumblr via the website.

For these reasons, I have decided the app is better than the website. Thank you. Have a nice day.

#justderpin'around #long post

[dani-dance]

Dancelog 17-03-2024: 2015 Classic Maps

Not all of them yet, of course, but I did make a dent!

Problem: not really for me. Bit too boring and repetitive. Score: 7193 (3 stars)

Happy: it’s fine. Scoring seems rough though. Score: 8601 (4 stars)

What does the fox say?: the backup dancers are hard here. Harder to score on them too I think. Score: 7114 (3 stars)

Love me again: didn’t expect much of this one but it was fun! Score: 9444 (4 stars)

Dark horse: I really had to adjust my grip on the remote here sometimes in order to score. I have one of those sensitivity blocks too and I always have to be very careful not to hold the block, since it doesn’t score well if I do*, and that was exacerbated here. Score: 8986 (4 stars)

Love is all: why is it so insanely hard to score on this one? Also, this one feels like one you HAVE to do in a duo. Score: 5626 (2 stars)

I love it: timing’s hard on this one! I’ll also have to watch a video of the shoulder part so I can slow it down! It’s visible in other maps in 2015, but you can really tell with this one that this is the game where they started to experiment a bit! Score: 6485 (3 stars)

Let it go: a nice easy one! Score: 10216 (5 stars)

Tetris: I am not flexible enough for this. Score: 9101 (4 stars)

Bailando: I could feel this one in my shoulders! A nice duet that’s doable solo! Also P1’s really hot. Score: 8787 (4 stars)

Don’t worry be happy: since the image showed them sitting down I assumed it was at least part seated but noooo I put a chair down for nothing! It at least didn’t obstruct my dancing too much, but I still feel tricked. Score: 8951

Holding out for a hero: “oh this’ll be a nice easier one”, I said, clueless. WHAT WAS THAT. Harder than expected and harder than it looks. Score: 5523 (2 stars)

Ain’t no mountain high enough: fun! Not much else to say. Score: 8136 (4 stars)

Bang Bang: oh yep I’m getting muscle pains tomorrow. Score: 8773 (4 stars)

Mahna mahna: didn’t get a very high score but I don’t really care, mostly did this one as a cooldown. Score: 5456 (2 stars)

*This might be the reason scoring can be harder for me. I think next week, I'll try the remote with the inbuilt sensitivity block? I've always found that one harder to score with, though... Although I was always P2 when using that one, with P1 using the sensitivity block one. Or maybe I just need to find a way to adjust my grip or cover the block? If anyone has tips on this, please tell me!

#just dance #dani speaks #jd #dancelogs #jd2015

[oceancoins]

INVISTEVESCREAMIC

(Plaintext: Invistevescreamic) | Inviane Umbrella coining [link]

Definition: An inviane gender that can only be described using this image of Steve Harrington from Stranger Things screaming:

Image ID: A rectangle flag split into seven horizontal stripes, with the middle stripe being significantly thinner than the rest, which are the same size, the stripes are in the color order blue, red, white, black, light grey, grey, dark grey. In the center of the flag is a square image of the fictional character Steve Harrington from the television Stranger Things. He’s screaming and the photo is blurred by motion. He’s a white man with brown hair and is wearing a primarily blue sailors uniform with accents of red and white. There is a shorter boy with an orange shirt and blurred face. He’s mostly obstructed by Steve’s body. There’s also a girl standing next to the young boy, in a yellow t-shirt and light blue overalls. You can see one strap of a purple backpack on her shoulder. She’s mostly obstructed by Steve’s other shoulder. She’s visibly shorter than the rest of the subjects in the photo. The room they’re in seems to be sleek and mostly made up of dull grey colors. End ID

#[ ✧ · chorus coins ] #inviane #coining post #gender coining #mogai #liom

[riddlecrux]

our souls are knit into one II

Chapter I (ao3), Chapter II (ao3), Chapter III

Summary: A trapped wolf would bite its paw to escape the trap, but Lyrra can only tremble when the dragon’s grumble grows louder, closer to her small person. The ground shakes when its enormous body stops, awaiting its master command. She can feel the heat, crippling her with dread when the darkness suddenly changes into blazing inferno - the roar of the animal almost shattering her eardrums. Even if she feels herself jerk, she doesn’t move. The ridges of her spine go rigid, cold tremors travelling along the whole length of her.

Please check the tags on ao3! If you wish to be tagged on the upcoming chapter, please leave a comment.

vi 

These days, after the peculiar scene at the training grounds, Helaena and Lyrra gained a third companion to their daily endeavors. At first, he stumbled upon their reading session - his leather jerkin basking in the sunshine as he sharpened his sword. He hadn’t said a word, but whenever Lyrra paused at the story she was reading aloud, she could feel his eye upon her. Searching and probing. A thrill of unease seemed to cocoon her as she tried to make herself invisible, as much she could. Then, the second prince started appearing in the princess’s chambers with a lazy excuse of seeking solitude - she would catch him staring at her hands while she embroidered small dragons along the handkerchiefs. His presence was oppressing, not in an unkind way, rather than that in a more powerful one. Wherever he went, the air seemed to change - her lungs contorting under the heavy quality of his persona. 

She would always pretend he wasn’t there. 

But glancing at the sea and ships with him on her right side, unnerves her. 

Looking to the other side, she sees Helaena observing ants on the stone balustrade. A content smile on her face, as if she didn’t care about anything around her. Her silver hair blowing on the gusts of wind create an otherworldly image of her family beauty succession. 

‘What do you see whenever you look at those ships?’ The princess’s airy voice stops the surrounding them melancholy. ‘You do that often,’ she adds, playing with tiny insects. 

‘I make up stories,’ Lyrra half laughs, twitching her hands in front of her. ‘If the sailor is leaving his family or if some blindsided lover ventured on the deck to return to his beloved,’ she closes her eyes and inhales. His scent is overpowering their space. ‘Sometimes I picture myself there. Going back home,’ her lips part with a shaky breath that dies somewhere in her throat. ‘But mostly I imagine the wonders of the world and what could await me out there,’ she sends a reassuring glance at Helaena, her own warm palm patting Lyrra’s in a silent moment of shared understanding. Then, the princess slowly turns around and makes her way towards the blanket laid nearby, leaving Lyrra in proximity with her brother. 

She thinks she can hear him maneuver, the leather stretches with his movements, but her eyes never leave the horizon. His breathing changes, from the tones of it, it quickens - a breeze shuffling around them. It brings more of his scent - one that she has become acquainted with. The world seems to quiver around them, she supposes. There’s only them and the last of today’s sunlight. 

‘What do you see, my prince?’ Her treacherous mouth moves on its own accord and if she was frank she not only surprised herself but also Aemond. His sharp features tense under scrutiny of her gaze - the prince’s profile stark against the orange sky. The eye patch blocks her from seeing his emotions swirl inside his lavender eye. An obstruction that somehow Lyrra finds endearing. 

‘Nothing,’ he grunts, and before he leaves, his roguish hand puts a dearly beloved carved wolf on the balustrade. 

Looking at her lost gift, her ice heart breaks a little. 

vii

Some nights, she wakes to the sound of Helaena’s cries. 

They’re heart-wrenching, attacking her from every corner of her chamber. The castle and its inhabitants barely rise a brow at the tortured sounds coming from the princess’s bedroom, and Lyrra’s chest spasms each time she hears the door slam against the wall. Then, she quickly pulls a night robe and tiptoes to her only friend’s room. 

In the daze of hurt and pain, she helps Helaena wash, breathe and sleep. 

As she sings sweet nothings to her, brushing her long tresses with her hands, Lyrra longs to vanish along with the Targaryen princess in the bare lands of the North. When the older woman falls asleep, clean and tucked under the covers, she slips away from her room - her dried tears forgotten on her cheeks. 

Each time she passes the second prince in the shadows. 

Nor she or he speaks a word. The silence between them says everything. 

viii

She thinks she cannot bear it anymore. 

Her legs hurt from the running, but each step brings her closer to the Queen. Each one closer to the judgment she seeks for the actions of the crown prince. There should be a punishment, anything in truth that could be done to prevent Helaena’s torment. If there’s anything she could help her with, Lyrra’s willing to take the burden of it. 

When she’s ushered to the Queen’s chamber, her resolve sharpens - the cold of her blood rushing through her as she squares her shoulders as if she was ready for a battle. 

‘It needs to stop,’ she whispers when her majesty finally looks up at her. ‘He’s hurting your daughter, and I can’t do anything to prevent it,’ the irrational fear sparks inside her chest when Alicent’s gaze clouds with regret and pain. It quickly disappears and when she stares at her, Lyrra knows she has walked in the trap of her own making. 

‘Entertain him,’ the Queen demands. Something cracking at the edges of her soft command. 

Stupid girl, she cries inside. 

Foolish heart, yet she nods. 

ix

The tears don’t stop when Lyrra stumbles from the stairs. Her yellow dress dragging behind her, its material ripping on the sharp edges as her body heaves with panic. 

Justice is cruel. 

Her heart squeezes in a trepidation and along with it her whole body - one misstep, and she hurtles down in an ungracious fit of sobs. They wreck her bones when she tries to muffle their sounds with her shaking hands. She shouldn’t have expected anything from the people who are only interested in the war. But from the mother of a child? She has been wrong. 

‘What are you doing here?’ She blinks and starts when the shadowy figure of the crown prince emerges from the opposite side of the corridor. The fear she has felt before pales in the terror that envelops her when he slowly crouches in front of her. The cruel gleam of his stare sends shivers down her spine, a tremor lodges itself in her chest when his white hand grips her neck. 

Lyrra notices faded bruises on his neck, and so many scratches, that for a moment she becomes slack, realizing who gave him those. His hold is brutal, painful - some of her hair twisted between his fingers burn her scalp in an unforgiving pain.

‘I asked you a question,’ Aegon’s lips create an awful smile when he witnesses her discomfort. 

‘Running an errand,’ she lies, his free palm coming to her chin and closing on it with an unhinged force. Her body flings backwards, but he holds her against him, his body heat penetrating the front of her dress. 

‘Do you know what punishment is wrecked upon those who lie to the king’s successor?’ His voice grates Lyrra’s ears when he leans to whisper his poison. ‘You don’t, do you? Shall I demonstrate it then?’ 

Not waiting for her answer, he pulls her upward, bruising her arms with the force he uses on her. He shoves her hard, like cattle. 

Then he leads her to the unknown. 

x 

Nights in the North are full of dark sky - no stars in sight. The vast wilderness and snowy fields stretching behind Winterfell’s walls used to bring her comfort on the sleepless nights full of terrors. The desolation of her land always reminded her of herself - a shell of an earth covered in ice. Even if the winter wind sang songs of her ancestors, the one she longed to hear for so many moons never reached her. 

Nevertheless, she has been keeping her watch, on the battlements surrounded by the darkness and embracing it wholly. 

She should have known that different types of dark could be as terrifying as the knowledge of her birth. As the crown prince's hands shove her around the Red Keep, she believes that even through the darkest nights in the North, she hasn’t been afraid. Her back hurts from the harsh slaps, and the last step on the stone stairway is swept from her legs when he just pushes her forward. If not for her quick reflex, her face would have caught on the ridge of the spiky ground. 

Lyrra blinks, but the darkness is overbearing and thick - her senses alert when Aegon grabs her arm and drags her deeper into the ether. 

‘Kneel and face me,’ the little man spats, and her heart wrenches in its naive hope of the slight chance of help coming from the upper part of the castle. Yet, in her performance of submission, she slowly does as he orders, gray eyes sharp and empty when her knees touch the cold stone underneath her. Breathing through her nose, she tries to think about possible outcomes of this torture, however nothing prepares her for the bone chilling sound erupting behind her back. 

A trapped wolf would bite its paw to escape the trap, but Lyrra can only tremble when the dragon’s grumble grows louder, closer to her small person. The ground shakes when its enormous body stops, awaiting its master command. She can feel the heat, crippling her with dread when the darkness suddenly changes into blazing inferno - the roar of the animal almost shattering her eardrums. Even if she feels herself jerk, she doesn’t move. The ridges of her spine go rigid, cold tremors travelling along the whole length of her. 

The crown prince snickers, an ugly sneer present on his face in the dim light of lit torches. 

‘You see how small and insignificant humans are?’ He taunts with a haughty manner. ‘You better remember that,’ the venom drips from his words, but the far away look in his eyes is even worse. As if there was truly nothing inside him, no emotion. Her lips move, yet no sound escapes her, the breathing dragon still near her - its tail swishing the layers of dust. Aegon then speaks, tangled words she’s not accustomed to, and a second passes before her hair flies in a tangle of wisps and tresses around her from the beast’s breath and closure. 

The hot snout presses against her back as she almost whimpers. 

Almost.

The wolf inside her roars with anguish, her bones coated in ice. Never fear, her brother used to say, never let it consume you. And with the dragon behind her, Lyrra’s gray eyes stare straight into the violet ones. 

Undefeated.

xi

‘Brother,’ she snaps her gaze at the silky tone of the second prince, hovering behind Aegon like a shadow - more like a viper rather than human. His tall frame contrasts with the fire playing on the stone walls as he makes his way towards them, stalking. He is almost invisible, the sound of his steps barely audible when he finally steps out from the darkness and basks in the torchlight. The silver of his long hair shines like the sword he has equipped to his side, his one eye staring at her with an intensity that could easily burn her just like the dragon’s flame. 

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ his sharp features betray nothing, but the lavender hue in his irises beacons her hope of ending this frivolous misery. With a trembling hand, Lyrra swipes strands of hair from her face, the beast’s snout still pressing onto her shoulder blades. The rumble of the giant dragon sends shivers down her spine. Her heart catches on its rapid beat, Aemond’s profile becoming her focal point - like a safeguard. 

‘A manner of a lesson,’ the shorter man replies, a gleam of triumph passing behind his lifeless eyes as he finally breaks his stare and looks at his younger brother. ‘And what are you doing here?’ A pale brow rises as he sweeps his gaze through the material of the cloak the second prince is wearing. 

There is a tension in Aemond’s jaw, a muscle pulling hard when he softly hums at the question aimed at his person. His single eye seeks Lyrra’s wide ones, still frightened yet with resilience hidden inside them, and with a small and almost faint frown he lowers his head. Then the brothers start speaking in the language she’s not well-spoken in, their voices clashing in the stone cavity of their space. Whereas Aegon’s tone is brutish, angry, Aemond’s is silky, steady and much more threatening. It feels like hours before the crown prince yells in her direction, and the oppressing presence behind her finally vanishes. 

Her body locks itself in, and without the dragon behind her, Lyrra leans forward - her hands shaking while she grips the debris and dirt with loud exhales. She should have been ashamed of showing such weakness before them, however, the fear coursing through her blood overpowers the strength she knows she harbors somewhere deep inside herself. All her life, she had known nothing but the peace of her snow covered lands and her ancestor's deep comfort of protecting their people and family - blinking at her clawing fingers, she lets the shame overwhelm her. If anything, without her physical prowess, magical creatures at her command Lyrra always hailed herself as intelligent enough to decipher why she was pardoned. 

Political balance, a wager that she represents. 

Her brother’s army and support is much desired on both sides of the upcoming war, and with her being a friend to the family, she supposes she can’t be treated like a rag doll. She won’t let them use her as they please, not when she holds as much power as them - one mishap and her scroll could change the tides of the battle. 

Squaring her shoulders, she painfully slowly stands up, her yellow dress dirty and teared at the bottom makes her look like a pathetic excuse of a notable Lady. The ribbon tying her tresses forgotten somewhere on the ground. 

‘I shall excuse myself, then,’ her words break the silence like a wolf’s howl and when she moves away from this madness she can feel the very well known stare, traveling down her back, burning her with a brand of safety she so desperately craves. 

xii 

She doesn’t make it to the first floor when her arm is yanked back. She stifles a scream, but a rough hand clasps her mouth before she can even whimper from the impact and shock surging through her veins. She and her captor quickly whirl in place, and suddenly she’s pressed against the wall of a desolate chamber, with rows of books glooming beneath the dust circling in the air. Her eyes hurt from the specks of it trying to assault not only her sight, but also her throat. And it’s in the nanosecond of the halo of a half lit candle, showering the room in an exquisite aesthetic, and a vibration of her breastplate when the scent of the person holding her inwardly makes her relax.

Blinking the unshed tears, Lyrra’s gaze traces the ragged bones of Aemond’s face, his almost translucent skin glowing like a star on the winter’s night sky.  With a slow measure, she travels along the hard beauty of the man in front of her - still as the Weirwood tree, cold as the ice sliding down Winterfell’s walls. The oddity. The unanswered question. Somehow, somewhat, she can’t stop looking at him, at his jagged scar that looks too raw, too painful to easily forget. 

‘My prince,’ she trembles when his hand hovers above her neck, a magnetic feeling stretching between them when she reaches his eye. Blazing at her with a fire that licks her insides. 

‘I didn’t consider you lacking common sense,’ he drawls, a sly smirk on his full lips as he pins her down with his unyielding stare. The fluttering in her abdomen vanishes at his tone, a prickling sensation of annoyance replacing this… This what? 

She shrugs from his presence and faces him from the other side of the interior. ‘What have I done to resort to such observation of my character, my prince?’ Her dress tears a little more when she stomps on the hem of it accidentally. The sound makes him look at her state and something reflects in his lavender eye, but in a moment it’s gone - replaced by the hard iron she’s used to see. 

‘Don’t be dense,’ he replies in that soft manner she catches herself yearning to hear whenever he accompanies his sister and her. He’s a man of few words, rarely gracing his listener with sentences of his own thoughts. The closely tightened armor he wears must be heavy, she thinks while picking on her sleeve with an odd anxiety. 

‘You put the blame on me?’ Lyrra doesn’t want to sound betrayed, but the edges of her question are laced with sound defying hurt. Her chest spasms with anger, so hot and bright like the dragon’s fire. ‘I’ve vouched for your sister’s safety, and you dare to point fingers at me? At my lack of character?’ He breathes through his nose, a wild look on his face when he assesses her raging form. She feels small under such scrutiny. The prince almost devours her with the way his eye darkens - slowly tracking the shape of her neck and then… towards her heaving bosom. 

A pause. ‘Nobody wanted you to do so,’ there is a hard note that begs obedience, but she’s not a meek dog, she’s a wolf after all. 

‘Is seeking justice truly a thing only some people are entitled to?’ Her hands gesture wildly at nothing in particular, an unnerving emotion overcoming her senses. ‘I don’t believe so,’ she stops her pacing and with a heavy sigh faces her companion. He morphs into something she hasn’t yet witnessed, a tender light shines in his eye, a delicate frown appearing out of nowhere on his angular face. He looks almost like a child, one that heard something he had wished to hear for an eternity. ‘Everyone should be vouched to seek justice, no matter the situation,’ her lips are dry and without a hesitation she wets them with her tongue. 

Her chest moves with the power of her short speech, each breath drawing his attention and cracking this angelic like mask she saw for a few seconds. Both of them remain silent, unmoving yet exploring each other’s breaths and their paths, the structures of their necks and skin - his hand flexes on his side, fingers curling into a fist that catches her attention. It’s as if something has coiled inside her too, something heady and unknown.

There is nothing, just the two of them, in this space where no one else has dared to venture into. A trapped secret, its taste encompassing Lyrra with a lull of electricity shooting through her body. 

She caves in, a soft sound escaping her when he makes one step towards her. ‘Is it so terrible to be just and kind?’ Her gray eyes weave into his lavender one - a tenderness she hasn’t expected coating his Targaryen features. ‘Am I so, dense and unfit, just because I care for the people I cherish?’ The tension between them is almost palpable, his scent intoxicating her senses. 

‘Kindness will get you killed,’ his whisper is the last thing she hears before he leaves her utterly alone and confused. 

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfics

[empirexsin]

"can I stay here? just until the storm clears out." @williopolis

he had anticipated that when his mother had died, no one would knock on the door. they had rarely got visitors when she was alive, but occasionally old friends would visit for a short while before leaving again, patting joe's arm and telling him he was a good son. he had enjoyed the isolation for the most part. less enjoyed, perhaps, but more expected it. felt as though isolation was where he belonged. as though it was always unusual he was in his house with his mother, expected to take care of her and yet his mind was crumbling similarly to hers - just in a different way. awaiting the days, the hours he might be able to suffocate himself and awaken from the dreadful nightmare of life. but still, this hadn't happened. things hadn't gone as he had expected in life with his mother, or in his own solitude.

" i wasn't expecting a guest " hopes it's only willow who comes knocking on his door. not that he is very welcoming to her. joyous to see her. she's become somewhat of a nuisance, he thinks. an unexpected constant in his life. someone who knocks on his door repeatedly or hurries out of her house whenever she sees him walking to his truck or leaving to head to the store. he's come to know her well if only because she talks so much more than him. he wonders whether this is because of the age difference between them. the way she relentlessly talks and sometimes seems as if she only stops to catch her breath. or if it's just opposing personalities clashing. not that they do clash. joe is mostly a mute. has answered the door twice to willow so far - the first when she introduced herself, and the second when she came over to ask if he could fix her loose cupboard door. he didn't know why she asked him. he'd never mentioned he was handy. but some reason he'd quietly nodded. fixed the door. all while listening to willow talk about the latest gossip on her television show - as if he'd know what she was talking about.

" have you lost your electricity? " assumes that's why she's knocking. maybe the storm has caused her electric to trip. maybe she's been over in her house in the dark. or maybe willow is just here, another reason to come and see him - for reasons unknown. and it is heavy rain. horrible thunderstorms and gushing winds. he can't question - or interrogate her - on his doorstep like this. and so, he reluctantly steps aside - no longer obstructing the entry to his home. slow movements as if he isn't quite sure. has been laid on his couch, eating a nutritious mixture of jelly beans and cheesy puffs whilst watching some old movie that was being broadcast tonight. but the image keeps flickering every now and then. as if it might stop showing the film at any moment due to the storm. " ok, come in "

[citynewsglobe]

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[world-cinema-research]

Week 9G: Comparing Punch-Drunk Love (2002) & Russian Ark (2002)

Essay #1 - Punch-Drunk Love

The above article's most cohesive point is that the material in Punch-Drunk Love captures contingencies at the heart of post-romance (post-romance is defined as the age in which we seek out people who are more like ourselves, instead of abiding by the whole "opposites attract" idea) All of these themes and ideas are present in the film, which portrays the violence of contingency and the wonder of love in a post-romance world. The harmonium in the opening scene is a 'synthesizing' entity, while the SUV crash is a disorganizing eruption of excess force. The film captures the virtuality of love's potential and the actuality of romance.

Whether or not this was Anderson's true intention is up in the air, but it does have the same "cloaked idea" as Russian Ark. On the surface, Russian Ark is marvelous gallery stroll of Russian art, its appeal marked by the one-shot it took to capture the footage. Its purpose however may be a deep meditation on Russian culture, history, legacy, and character commentary, all of which contribute to a focus on Russia's identity.

Here is the scene with the car crash and harmonium above. I found that the opening scenes for this film and Russian Ark both provide the audience with a cold, dark atmosphere to begin with. In Russian Ark, the entry into the main museum is surprising as the color palette suddenly pops with shades of orange, yellow, and white. Color is a big thing in Punch-Drunk Love as well, where dark blue and black appear in many ways such as his moments of isolation and even his suit.

The poster for the film accurately reflects the artistic decisions made in the film, and is a beautiful image to begin with. Beyond the silhouettes of Barry and Lena lies the beach of Hawaii, their vacation spot which offered our characters a moment of solace and a way for Barry to escape his perpetrators. Just under the title layer, the background has these lines that could be mistaken as surfboards, but they are actually a callback to the sequence of colors at the beginning of the film. To me, these colors are the visual expression of Barry's emotional state. And perhaps the dark surroundings signify suffering and the unknown, fears which mean nothing to Barry who is preoccupied in the arms of his lover.

As beloved and dependable as Adam Sandler was as an actor leading up to this, I think it may have been hard to market the film because of its darker undertones. This is a love story that meanders from idea to idea, playing around with different effects and moods. It may not be as unconventional as Russian Ark, but the film has a daring nature to it. This is perhaps why it just barely fell short of breaking even.

"Andrew Fastow former chief financial officer for Enron Corp is indicted on 78 counts of wire fraud, money laundering, conspiracy and obstruction of justice."

Enron was an energy company that was involved in a massive scandal which led to the company's bankruptcy. Many of its executives were charged with crimes. The frequent flyer miles idea in Punch-Drunk Love relates to Enron in that it highlights the greed and corruption that can occur in the business world. Barry sees an opportunity to exploit a loophole in a promotion offered by a company, just as Enron executives found ways to manipulate their financial statements to deceive investors. Both situations involve individuals prioritizing their own gain over the well-being of others.

Essay #2 - Russian Ark

Textual Resource

The Stranger - "Let's proceed with caution. These madmen could eat us."

The Time Traveller - "They liked your hair."

The Stranger - "Of course, I'm a writer. Writer's always have good hair."

My experience with Russian Ark was a quiet, and mostly dull experience. Alexander Sokurov, the director, casted more than 2000 people, involving two whole orchestras. The camera lens primarily focused on people for the entire duration. What's more is that the whole thing was captured in one shot, with only two prior takes before the third was was the success.

The thing is, a film that expects you to know the detailings of Russian history, without a central conflict, just comes off as movie snob bait. The picture is incredible, but the hour and a half it took to watch this felt like a much longer time.

"...the film does not have any plot in the conventional sense. But neither does history, so in that sense, the film is more about what history actually is than any other movie I’ve ever seen."

Punch-Drunk love only has one reference to a real-life event, so in terms of connecting with Russian Ark on this level, it fails to do so.

"Moscow theatre hostage crisis of 2002, also called Nord-Ost siege, hostage taking by Chechen militants at the Dubrovka Theatre in Moscow, Russia, that lasted from October 23 to October 26, 2002. It ended when Russian forces filled the theatre with a gas. More than 150 people died, the vast majority of them as a result of the effects of the gas."

The Moscow Theatre Hostage Crisis of 2002 and the film Russian Ark are related in that they both deal with the idea of Russian identity and history. The hostage crisis, which took place in the Dubrovka Theatre, was a traumatic event that shook Russia and had a lasting impact on its society. The film Russian Ark, on the other hand, is a sweeping historical drama that takes place in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg and reflects on Russia's rich cultural heritage.

The film's single continuous shot that travels through the Hermitage Museum can be seen as a metaphor for the continuity of Russian history and culture, despite the tumultuous events of the past. The Moscow Theatre Hostage Crisis, on the other hand, disrupted this continuity and left a scar on Russian society. It is similar to Punch-Drunk Love's theme of finding love through uncertainty and doubt.

In this cast interview, it is noted that the whole team only had 36 hours to get all of the props and equipment in place as the Heritage museum only allowed them that timeframe. It took 4 years for the movie to actualize, showing just how much of a feat the film was outside of its charm as a one-shot wonder. Punch-Drunk Love didn't face as much trouble in production as Russian Ark, but it did only make 24 million from its 25 million-dollar budget.

[chiwhorei]

vanilla

pairing: k. sugawara x fem!reader x t. kageyama

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 1.5k

warnings: oral, a little degradation, hair pulling, dom!suga, threesome

a/n: hey! i’m here with some more very late content because i have never been able to follow a schedule successfully in my life. kinktober was set out to be a challenge for me to stretch my writing and practice on characters i haven’t yet explored, but it started becoming hard to even think about my own writing. anyway, i’m exhausted and didn’t add the taglist because i really need to go to bed.

hymn: doves in the wind (ft. kendrick lamar) by sza

kinktober 2020 - threesome (m/f/m)

Sugawara Koushi loves to find joy in the simple things. A crisp autumn morning, and the smell of freshly washed bed sheets. He appreciates the first scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, and the sound of your yoga mat rolled out onto the hardwood floor in the morning with the sweet, domestic promise of another day together.

Your boyfriend always ensures he keeps a spritely, positive attitude no matter his surroundings, even with one hand wrapped into your hair and tugging down. Your eyes meet his above you, Suga’s blown wide in a certain sadistic gleam.

“Well, my dear Tobio-chan,” Suga shifts to his junior, the tall brunette sweating bullets next to him, “is she all you’ve ever dreamed of?”

Your knees protest at the hardwood below you but you remain still, waiting for the next instruction from Koushi as he pets at your hair with care. The pair stand at the foot of yours and Suga’s bed, looking down at your form. The pretty blue dress Koushi picked out for you is bunched up dangerously high on your thighs. Your eyes are glossy, pupils blown wide and reading anticipatory desire for what your boyfriend has planned.

Nervous isn’t nearly a strong enough word to use right now. Kageyama finds a certain buzzing joy from nerves before a big game, synapsis soaked in eagerness when he throws up his first serve. Kageyama isn’t nervous, he’s been dipped in terror and rolled in a thick layer of lust like he’s never felt before.

He has no idea how the night's events led him to the apartment of his old volleyball club teammate and manager. There were whispers shared between you and Suga, purposefully just out of earshot so that Kageyama could only hear every few words or an occasional sentence.

“I think it’s an offer he couldn’t refuse. He’s been pining for you since his first year of High School.” Kageyama’s ears burn red hot with the knowledge you are talking about him. Your giggle bounces past his ears like a siren, looking at your boyfriend with less shock than would be assumed given the context.

“I don’t know Kou, if you think he can handle it..”

“Did you hear what she said, Tobio?” Sugawara’s voice brings him back to his current predicament, looking down to see your face positioned right in front of his hard, clothed cock. You wear a beautiful smile, one Kageyama has kept filed in the recesses of his mind for the last 6 years, never fully able to let the image of you fall away. “It was just a stupid crush.” He would say to himself like a penance, while stroking his cock to the memory of you bending over to pick up a stray volleyball or helping him wrap up a busted finger. The way you lightly kissed his bandage for “luck” miraculously always made him need to get patched up more often.

“I want to see your pretty cock, Tobio-kun.” The tone of your voice makes his knees weak, sin seeping off of the last syllable, He’s pictured you in this position a million times before, but actually seeing your lips lightly ghosting over his zipper is not something he thought would actually happen to him in this lifetime. Your hot breath fans over his crotch, shiny lip gloss threatening to stain his dress slacks.

His mind is working faster than his hands, causing an impatient groan from Sugawara. Your boyfriend places a slender hand on the taller man’s shoulder, urging him into action. Kageyama unbuttons his pants with shaky hands, pulling out his length and he can almost feel your bottom lip touch him. Your mouth turns up at the corners again at the sight. You were right, his cock is long and pleasantly thick with a throbbing pink tip.

“So pretty.”

“Go on, doll, show Tobio what your dirty little mouth can do.” Suga’s hand is pulling the back of your hair again, meeting your awaiting mouth to Kageyama’s weeping head. Your tongue shoots out to swirl around his tip, the hot muscle stealing a low grunt from the stoic pro athlete. Deciding that Kageyama has dealt with enough teasing, you take him into your mouth with care, placing your hands on his thighs to keep balance. A resounding fuck echoes off of the apartment walls when your nose brushes his pelvis. You’re gagging around his impressive length, the ache in your throat is dizzying with your boyfriend keeping you pressed to the hilt.

“What an obedient girl you are, y/n. You’ve always been such a people pleaser.” Sugawara muses at you, his praise making your throat relax to accommodate the obstruction. As you begin to bob your head, Kageyama’s hands shoot behind him for purchase on the bed frame. His teeth are grinding down painfully as you work his cock. Your moans reverberate around him, his head wants to fall back but Kageyama wills himself to keep his eyes on you, lest he misses a second of his most debauched fantasies coming to life.

“Her mouth is down right sinful,” Sugawara pulls you off of Kageyama’s dick with a salacious, wet pop, “but her tight little cunt is even better.” The sentence is suspended in the air momentarily before hitting the brunette like a truck. You’re lifted to your feet by Suga’s hand still wrapped in your hair, you scramble to steady yourself with weak hands fisting the front of your boyfriend's shirt. He holds you for a moment, pulling you into a messy kiss that has you melting into his embrace. Koushi holds a cloying charm with each peck to your pre-stained lips, but quickly spins you around to shove you towards Kageyama again. He grabs your elbows to keep you upright, peering down at your dazed expression with curiosity.

You lurch forward, pulling Kageyama down to meet your lips for the first time by his dark brown locks. His mouth is frozen for a moment before opening up to your welcoming tongue. He could get lost in your peach flavored kiss, hands finding your hips and gripping tightly. Suga’s laugh throws him out of the intoxicating reverie as the older man pulls you to press against his chest. Deft fingers pull down the zipper of your tight dress before brushing off the thin straps to expose your bare breasts and lace panties.

Suga traces his thin fingers across the curve of your tits, down your hips to find a home hooked in the last semblance of modesty you have left. The silver-haired man puts his chin on your shoulder and smiles brightly.

“You’ve always been sweet on my y/n, Tobio-chan. You used to follow her around like a lost little puppy, it was so cute.” Suga pushes his hand down the front of your panites, shoving two fingers into your dripping pussy without warning, your head rolls back into the juncture of his neck as he begins to stretch you out. “Sometimes, I have her put on that cute uniform skirt and walk around with my cum leaking out of her tight little cunny.” The sound of your perversely sweet lover talking about you like you aren’t there ignites a new wave of desire in your abdomen. He continues pumping his digits into you harshly, eliciting a depraved squelching from your pussy.

“She’s drooling all over my fingers Tobio, I bet you want to feel how she’s clenching, don’t you?” Suga’s sadistic side is not something surprising to you, but shocks Kageyama to the core, barely able to nod dumbly in response. Sugawara tsks him, clicking his tongue with gleaming humor. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me how you want my sweet girlfriend bouncing on your cock.”

Kageyama’s words catch in his throat, but tumble out as your whimpering intensifies. “Please, I- let me fuck your girlfriend, Suga.” His plea is timid and almost robotic, but pleases Suga enough for him to rip the soaking underwear down your shaky legs. You’re now completely naked in front of both mostly clothed men. Your boyfriend has always enjoyed a nuanced power imbalance.

Kageyama sits down on the edge of your bed, stroking his cock slowly as you’re dragged towards him. You shuffle onto his lap with little grace, grabbing at Kageyama’s strong bicep so that you don’t tip over. He feels your hot cunt inches away from where he’s always wanted you. The culmination of years of helpless pining for the one thing he could never get is dissolving around him. Suga wraps his hand around your neck from behind, craning it up so that you meet his eyes. “You’re my good girl, right?” You nod furiously, desperate to gain permission to lower yourself onto the thick cock in front of you. Your eyes glaze over in lust as Suga’s thumb rubs your cheek.

“Put on a good show for me, doll.” You hear your sweet, unassuming boyfriend’s voice like dripping syrup. Koushi always finds pleasure in the most interesting places, one of them being the shared look of bliss as your velvety pussy hugs tightly onto his former underclassman.

No one would guess, but Sugawara Koushi is anything but vanilla.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#haikyuu x reader #kageyama x reader #sugawara x reader #haikyuu smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama smut #sugawara kōshi #sugawara smut #saint dymphna’s kinktober

[allthingskakashi]

6. you look really cute in that sweater. ← made me feel things

Fluff prompt 6 : "You look really cute in that sweater."

• Knitted Heartstrings •

[ Kakashi x Reader] // 2.5k words

A/n : this title is meant to be cute but i think it just sounds grotesque

It had been a few weeks since winter had arrived at Konoha, bringing with itself a carriage full of moments, gift wrapped with warmth and joy to sprinkle all around. It brought cosy nights to be spent laughing by the fireplace with a loved one, in an icicled platter and first love blossoming in the first fall of snowflakes in a tiny snow globe.

Wherever the eye went, there were sheets and sheets of cotton white snow, shimmering in the sunlight like broken pieces of diamond. The small village looked ethereal.

For you, winter had always been special. There was something about the smell of snow that imbued your heart with hope, like any time now something magical would happen. Many scorned at the childish illusions that you knit inside your mind, dismissing it as a result of one too many Hallmark movies, but for you… the only melody that mattered was the one of your heart. And it said,

it was winter, and everything was magical.

You looked outside your window at the bustle of villagers on the street, wrapped up in cosy sweaters and colourful scarves. It was the first day of the Annual Winter Carnival, and even though it was barely 10 a.m., there was already a long line in front of the hot chocolate stand. Beyond the eager queue, you could see a line of small shops, each adorned with something different: winter clothing, holiday cards, Christmas decorations, plum cakes and pumpkin pies, you name it.

You adjusted your red scarf around your neck, putting on a pair of mittens as you smiled to yourself. It was a beautiful day outside and the festive spirit all around made the sun shine just a little brighter for you. Picking up your keys and wallet from the table, you headed for the door, crossing your nearly decorated Christmas tree on the way. The tall green tree was already bedecked in shining ornaments, colourful streamers and twinkling lights. The only thing it was missing was a tree topper and you made a mental note to pick one up from one of the ornament stalls that were sited around the town square.

You made your way towards the gleeful crowd far ahead, your boots drawing patterns along the soft snow as you went. The sapphire sky seemed to beam down upon your town, every storefront greeting the eyes with beautiful wreaths woven by flower shop workers and window displays of snowmen built by Academy children with styrofoam.

You spotted Gai in the distance, huddled up with Lee and Tenten, all of them holding what looked like mugs of cocoa in their hands. Despite the biting cold, Gai and Lee had on their usual green outfits, you noticed. All three of them waved as they saw you approaching and you waved back at one shivering and two fully unbothered figures.

As you looked around you could spot most of the Leaf shinobi. Some had even arrived from neighbouring villages as they always did at this time of year. Your eyes fell on Sakura and Ino laughing as they tried on funny hats at one of the garment stalls, and Kiba teaching Akamaru how to make a snow angel on the ground. Pretty much everyone was here, laughing, talking, enjoying themselves. Everyone other than…

Anyway.

Such sights of blithe happiness were scarce in the kind of world you lived in. Amidst missions, deaths and tragedies, you always had a black cloud looming over you at all times, following you everywhere you went. It came with the job, there was no way to escape it. But even then, at times like these, it almost felt as if you were a part of the normal world. As if the grains of food on your plate didn’t depend on taking lives.

Taking in the beautiful sights of early winter and humming to yourself as you continued scouring the surroundings, you stopped in front of one of the clothing stalls. It was a small one manned by a middle-aged woman but despite the smallness of the store, the collection of knitted sweaters it displayed caught your eye immediately.

There was one hanging at the back that had piqued your interest the most. It was a cream coloured piece with the image of a pug in a Christmas cap embroidered on it and the word “woof” sewn just above it. It was love at first sight and the knitted sweater was just hanging there, begging for you to come get it.

Stepping in to get a closer look, you requested the woman to get it down for you. You waited as she handed you the object of your admiration and as expected, the soft material melted into your hands. You ran your fingers along the embroidery, admiring the stitchwork and already imagining how perfect it’d be for a cold night in in your pajamas with a nice book and a box of cookies.

You asked if you could try it on, and as the woman nodded in permission, you put the sweater over your head, hastily slipping into it. But in your hurry, you had somehow mixed up the neck and the sleeves, causing you to find yourself in a tangled mess with your head inside the sweater and your eyesight fully obstructed.

You struggled to untwine yourself, squirming and wiggling as you tried to differentiate the damn neck from the arm holes. You knew you looked like an absolute klutz, you even heard some giggles from a passing group of children that you were pretty sure was directed at you, but you were almost getting out of breath and your hair was starting to stick into your mouth, so you decided to put your focus on getting yourself out first and your dignity afterwards. You heard the woman’s voice beside you offering to help and you were just about to take her up on it when you finally managed to slip through, panting as you caught your breath.

You smoothened out the sweater with your hands, before reaching up to sweep away several strands of your now tousled hair, when suddenly your eyes fell upon the tall figure in front of you, leaning against the stall with a book in his hand.

The sudden sight gave you a scare that almost made you jump as you let out a surprised squeak.

“Kakashi!?”

Your widened eyes fixed on his face, meeting his placid gaze as you watched Kakashi’s mouth stretch into a smirk.

“15 seconds.” he stated in a flat yet chaffing tone.

You furrowed your brows at him, voicing your confusion. “Huh?”

“You got out of that 15 seconds faster that I’d expected you to”, he replied, as you felt your cheeks getting warm with embarrassment.

Not only had he been here watching you make a complete fool of yourself, he had also been revelling in it.

That dingus.

But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, so you settled to play defensive instead.

“And in all your seconds of standing there and watching, did you at any point consider offering to help?” you said, sparing him a narrowed glance.

“Nope” Kakashi replied instantly, the smirk intact on his lips as you rolled your eyes, feeling your own irrepressible smile get the better of you.

Meanwhile, the shop lady pulled a mirror out from the back and placed it before you. You situated yourself in front of it, stepping back to take a look at yourself. You could feel Kakashi still standing there, his eyes on you, peering at you over his book and your stomach churned and flipped inside your body.

This was…new.

Kakashi and you went way back… but minus the friendly greetings and conversations at certain social gatherings, there hadn’t been much interaction between the two of you. Mostly because both of you usually preferred to keep to yourselves. All that, however, changed after you were sent on a recent tailing mission together.

The mission was primarily supposed to last a week, but due to certain complications, you ended up having to be away for over a month. You were both asked to lead the team, and working so close together required many nights to be spent discussing strategies and team formations. You spent more nights in each other’s company, drawing maps and going over plans than you spent sleeping; just the two of you under the wide black sky, awake in the silence of the night with nothing but the whisper of crickets to interrupt you. And in some of these times, your conversations slipped beyond strategic discussions, delving deeper into the kind of territories that required the dark of the night to be revealed.

It wasn’t something you’d ever seen coming, talking to the copy ninja, really talking, but it had happened nonetheless. And when it had, it felt like the most natural thing the world. Like dipping your toes into the pool on a hot summer day.

Even though neither of you had fully bared your souls to each other yet, he was quite easy to talk to and you had come to realise that you had more in common that you would ever have guessed. And that beneath his serene exterior, Kakashi hid a tide of emotions.

Of course, it wasn’t all hefty talk. You had a good laugh the time he told you how the scar on his right arm, which people assume to be the result of a valiant battle is not from a battle at all but a rather embarrassing kitchen mishap. And this other time you had a heated debate about how miso ramen is definitely NOT better than shoyu ramen. The debate ended up in a draw but sitting with him in the glowing twilight, talking about nothing and everything… it made you feel some kind of way.

And then of course, there was that one night. One moment which had stuck out to you the most, amidst all others.

It was just another tiresome day, and you had taken refuge in the woods for the night. Almost everyone in your team had suffered mild injuries, including yourself. You had gone up to Kakashi to ask for a bandage for your sprained wrist since your own med kit was devoid of one and then…instead of simply handing over the bandage to you, Kakashi had taken your hand in his and wordlessly wrapped it around your palm. And for some reason, something about that one moment had stirred something inside you. Kakashi hadn’t made a big show of it, no, it didn’t even feel anything out of the ordinary. But the way he had gently held your wrist in one hand as he carefully bandaged it with the other had made you short of breath. No one had ever shown such gentleness towards you before, not in that way.

And even though nothing had really happened between the two of you yet, ever since that mission things didn’t remain quite the same anymore. The silences became thicker, the glances lingering. Chance encounters became deliberate and every conversation turned to memorabilia. There seemed to be this unspoken attraction, a spark that lit up like firecrackers every time you came in each other’s vicinity.

So yes, all of this was rather new and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with it yet.

Keeping your mind from reminiscing any further and pulling it away from your churning stomach, you glanced at your reflection in front you. The sweater did fit you perfectly but disappointingly enough, it didn’t look quite as good as you’d hoped it would, and suddenly you weren’t so sure of your choice anymore.

Kakashi’s eyes were still on you, registering your frown, and it was as if you could feel his gaze tear through your bones, pulling away all your layers. It was unnerving and you cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

“So, what are you doing here, anyway?” you called out, your eyes still fixated on your reflection as you turned to catch glances of yourself from various angles. “Didn’t take you for much of a carnival kinda guy.”

You saw him smile out of the corner of your eye as he straightened up, coming around lazily to stand behind you.

“I’m full of surprises”, Kakashi shrugged, enunciating every word as his figure towered over yours, the warmth of his body almost tangible to you.

His sudden closeness to you made your breath catch at the back of your throat and you struggled to maintain your composure, staring straight ahead at your reflection to keep your gaze from meeting his, which you knew would be just enough to send your heart hammering.

The moments seemed to freeze as the both of you remained standing, both pairs of eyes fixated on the mirror as air around you started to take a life of its own. You thought you would almost lose your mind when Kakashi’s words finally broke the rippling silence.

“You look really cute in that sweater.”

His words, so arbitrary yet soft hung in the air between you as you felt your heart grow vicious in your chest. You could feel it thrashing inside you, pounding so hard you were scared even Kakashi would be able to hear it. You knew your cheeks were about the same colour as a ripe cherry and you felt your mouth twitching with words that you couldn’t form.

You looked up slowly into the mirror and found the reflection of Kakashi’s eyes, waiting to meet yours. Even through the glass, his gaze burnt with an emotion that almost frightened you.

“You uh- you think so?” you heard yourself stutter, that sweater in the mirror suddenly looking like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever worn. You turned around a few more times, running your hand along the soft fabric again. “well uh I guess it’s not…bad” you said, your voice coming out more nervous than you would’ve liked it to.

Kakashi grinned, moving from behind you and starting to walk away as you pulled the sweater up, getting ready to take it back off. Thankfully for you, it came off this time without requiring any excessive wiggling.

You watched Kakashi’s slightly hunched figure walk away in the other direction, before stopping to turn back around at you.

“So, are you going to take that?” he called, a tease to his tone as he stood holding his book in one hand, the other warm inside his pocket.

“Maybe. I’m still deciding” you called back in the same tone as you watched him smirk, before being faced with his back again as he turned away slowly, walking ahead with his book open in front of him.

You watched him go, wondering if he would turn around again, but he didn’t and his striking silver hair disappeared from view as he became one with the crowd. You turned to the lady in front of you, the sweater hung over your arm as you struggled to hold the grin that threatened to erupt any time now. For some reason, the sweater in your hands didn’t feel like a piece of cloth anymore but something that had your heartstrings sewn amidst its threads.

You folded the soft fabric carefully, making it into a neat ball before holding it out to the lady with both hands, grinning at her.

“How much will this be?”

#kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #hatake Kakashi #kakashi fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #kakashi headcanons #kakashi x reader fanfiction #kakashi fanfic #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #Naruto headcanons #naruto #kakashi imagines #kakashi scenarios #naruto imagines #naruto scenarios #kakashi fluff #kakashi x reader fluff #kakashi x reader fanfic

[lunarfly]

Hermione as Harry's Light (by Evaluna)

Hello! This is an essay written many years ago, before the release of HBP&DH. It doesn't belong to me so credits to the original writers(Evaluna, Turambar & Mad-I Moody)! It was written on the CoS forum, I'm not sure if it's still saved there but I have a word document with all of the essays. Anyways, this essay has no ship/character bashing. Again, this essay isn't written by me, but it's one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Quote by Mad-I Moody:

"1."Ron's mum's lit a fire in there [Harry's bedroom] and she's sent up sandwiches." -Hermione couldn't know that if she had immediately dashed up to Harry.

2. "Ron and Ginny say that you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's." - She's obviously talked to them about this at some point between their arrival back from the hospital and her arrival at 12GP.

3. "The others have told me what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears."

-Does this indicate that she's had time to talk to the other members of the Weasley clan? Sources point to yes!

Now, isn't it sensible to assume that, in the instances wherein Hermione talked to the Weasley family, she was, at least, thoughtful enough to ask about Mr. Weasley?

Saying Hermione came only to be with Harry cannot be true therefore, because:

1. She doesn't go to see him the MOMENT she comes through the door

2. She gets Harry right out of the sulking room and takes him into a room with Ron and Ginny, with whom she has quite obviously been talking.

3. There is no indication that she wants to be alone with Harry"

Mad-I: Disagree. Not just from a textual analysis standpoint; there we have each our own interpretation. My strongest disagreement comes from what I see as a critical ‘septology’ issue [overarching theme of all 7 books]: Harry overcoming his own internal darkness [despair, hopelessness, isolation] before able to wage and win [or overcome] the external darkness [Voldy, evil, fear, hatred and division]. See below post. IMO the Hermione as Lifeline or Light for Harry scene is representative of what Harry must confront and for what he must stand and fight:

--darkness and the battle of good over evil,

--despair [depression] and the battle of love over [here, self-] hatred,

--isolation and limitation [e.g., Harry imposes on himself a prison for his mind], and the battle of love as emanation over barriers, constraints, and perceptions

It begins with himself. And IMO it doesn’t end. But anyway, it progresses from there to encompass the world. On his own, this scene shows that Harry is vulnerable in that he needs a source of love [for himself] to sustain him; only then can Harry be a source of love [for the world] in his [upcoming and perhaps ongoing] battle with darkness. Harry needs love in this regard perhaps more than anyone else in the world, and yet he’s had very little of it, with Sirius mostly kept apart from Harry. Except for Hermione, who has always been there for Harry? With Hermione’s return, once more for Harry there is connection and hope, and the belief in unlimited horizons and potential - some would call it faith -- when with Hermione. For ship and for series, IMO, I believe that Harry’s ability to acknowledge his need for love [for me, this means for Hermione] is the first step on his path to the light.

What the scene does imply is that Hermione’s conversation with Ron and Ginny and the others’ [may include Fred and George as well] was extremely brief and in the majority focused firmly on Harry. So brief in span that the snow had not yet melted even after climbing the stairs and so focused on Harry and his situation that Hermione had the grasp on all the main details already when she first pounded on the door. This is a young woman on a *mission*. A mission to save Harry. Hermione reaches Harry and saves him from himself, from his dark side, from his own personal hell. I personally think this is one of the most critical scenes in the book for Harry and his battle for good over evil, probably the most important one. The battle is within as well as without, and Hermione is the bringer of light to balance his darkness, to bring balance to his soul AK and Earendil:[thanks for SF ref!] a soul is a universe in and of itself <kabbalah, so one could say Hermione is bringing balance to the universe, in this sense]. Some may say it is not romantic..er…well…to each. But it can certainly be argued that the light and dark imagery, in bringing light from darkness, in the balance they provide one another, in the give and take [in interactions, in providing insight [in this scene=hers/giving love to him through her actions when she comes] or providing courage [in this scene=his/accepting her love through his actions when he follows] between them are the yin and yang that represent in both religious and esoteric texts the love on many levels required for spiritual completion of the marriage of two [bodies and souls] as one, separate but together [again, see the smoky caduceus-like vision that Dumbledore views after Harry’s vision prior to their arrival at number 12, which is followed shortly thereafter by the arrival of Hermione.

With this, one can make a case for striking symbolic romantic and platonic love imagery simultaneously, as well, in terms of a soulmate love that is “complete” on an esoteric level, a bonding of body and soul, the material and spiritual. I see no inherent contradiction, probably because I’m not an ancient Greek philosopher named Aristotle. [‘What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies’. --Aristotle] The difference being that we in our day can allow for this kind of soulmate love

between a man and a woman, as well, and that we can allow love to exist on many different levels between a man and a woman, not just Eros or what the Greeks narrowly defined as romantic love. The esoteric concepts of a true bonding of souls between a man and woman did of course contain all of these forms of love, sealed with emotional, physical, and contractual public commitments intended to represent the bonding of two souls as one before God and heaven. IMO how can this scene not be important for Harry, particularly as we all know that love is critical to overcoming all that Voldy is and represents? And whatever type you feel exists them between them, IMO there is deep love. So in fact I think this can be argued strongly as a H/Hr scene. For those who disagree, nonetheless it’s all-good since a deep soul love exists regardless if it is ‘very’ platonic. This is, after all, just a hair’s breadth from ‘total consciousness’.

One more point I mentioned before that I want to bring up in context of reinforcing Hermione’s critical position as Harry’s Light, Lifeline, or Savior. Arguably, since Hermione is key to bringing Harry back from the edge [regardless of what comes later], IMO the larger symbolism is that Hermione is “the one” who will always save Harry from his greatest enemy - himself, his dark side. After that, and only after that, can Harry save the world. She will help him choose light [represented by…Hermione] over darkness [his own despair and hopelessness, his feelings of being unclean and unworthy]. Even I can see some traditional religious symbolism here, but there’s much esoteric symbolism as well. Nonetheless, Ron’s gift of…what, frankincense and myth? Is that why the perfume smelled unusual?... Ron’s gift only seemed to highlight his deeper, intuitive understanding [at some level] of Hermione’s fundamental importance to Harry. Yin and Yang. Inexorably intertwined - just thought I’d throw that in here as well! And for what purpose would Ron is shown as gifting her with such symbolic honor if not to perhaps choose to give his life for hers, thereby saving Harry’s light and thus saving them all. Particularly, if Ron betrays or obstructs Harry and Hermione [this may happen if Ron is rejected by Hermione or “loses” her to Harry, per 6th step scene, falling away from the path to Hermione's door], then Ron may sacrifice himself [from betrayal guilt] to save Harry and/or Hermione [same scene, where Ron falls at Harry's feet] thus restoring his character and his legacy in addition to doing his critical bit to save Hermione &/or Harry [=the world].

(Turambar) I agree that the Christmas scene is one of the most significant in the book.

Just on what you said about the light/dark: it's interesting that JKR accentuates the extremities in various ways to bring out that contrast.

She uses biblical language - appropriate considering the timing - such as "unclean" and "possession" to describe Harry's self-disgust. His feelings of being unfit to be in the company of others brings another biblical image of the leper.

He completely isolates himself for a period rather than just behaves in a moody/angry fashion in company. He's "starving", cold.

Hermione is not mentioned at all from the time of the dream to her knocking on his door - an obvious device to enhance the surprise and impact of her arrival.

There's the imagery of evil (snake) and love (hippogriff) and as I've said before that suspicious dream occurs just when Harry is at his lowest ebb.

I agree with what FP said: the sequence shows the limitations of his relationship with the Weasleys and Sirius and conversely the growing significance to him of Hermione.

Both times he's considered running away when in a depressed state - here and before the First Task - the option has been to run to the barren, loveless Dursleys. To the house that's not a home and the family that isn't a family (to him). Both times he's got through the bad patch with a bit of help from Hermione.

#harry potter #harmione #harmony #harry and hermione #harry potter ships #hermione granger #hp ships #harry x hermione #harry/hermione #hermione and harry #hermione x harry #hermione/harry #harry potter series #harry potter books #hp #hhr #harry potter essay #harmione essay

[wooyunhwa]

kingdom of welcome addiction | four

view pinned post for masterlist / links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut (with plot), this part is just suggestive, mostly plot

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader / ???yunho x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: a bit of blood drinking, not much else in this part tbh

Synopsis: A new boy from your class steals your attention, but something about it seems too good to be true. 

A/N: The plot thickens! I know most of you are here for the smut but this chapter is very important for later parts! Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always! <3

The familiar alleyway. Why did you come back here? It went on endlessly, you couldn’t see the street from either side. You were running, but you weren’t sure why. Was someone chasing you?

A glimmer of crimson caught your eye from the shadow, a familiar flash of fangs sparkling in the thinly veiled moonlight. A bloodthirsty snarl painted his face. The demon from before? He stepped into the light, and his piercings glimmered in the flickering glow of the rusty street light. You swiveled to run, but the brick wall stopped your path. That wasn’t there before... 

You turned to meet his eyes, hungry with bloodlust, like a lion stalking its prey. He had you cornered. His proverbial lamb.

San. 

He lurched forward, his speed unmatched, pinning you up against the wall with a disturbing thud. You gasped as the wind knocked from your body. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out, not even your breaths. His hands viced around your neck. Why was he doing this? Why? Tears poured from your eyes as he squeezed mercilessly. You couldn’t understand why. You thought he was supposed to protect you.

You heard him speak, but his words didn’t make any sense. His voice was a venomous hiss, poison dripping from his fangs as he trained his eyes over you, to the hands squeezing the life out of you. Why was he hurting you? What did you do wrong?  

Your body went cold as you writhed, unable to run, unable to scream, unable to breathe. Piercing black eyes watched you as you sobbed helplessly, searching for any remnant of life left in your lungs, clawing at his hands, silently begging him to stop. 

And then black.

The next thing you saw was the dizzyingly bright white of your ceiling. The sheets were drenched under you from sweat, blankets thrown everywhere from tossing and turning in your bed. 

Your hand came to your neck, tracing the faint scars from San’s teeth, remembering the grip of his hands around your neck. He could have killed you, back then, if he hadn’t snapped out of it. You would be dead. 

You were falling for him. But somewhere inside of you, somewhere deep in your subconscious, he terrified you.

Your next semester had been, so far, incredibly overwhelming—and it was still only the first day. You weren’t used to such a hectic schedule, usually opting to take most of your courses online, but your schedule this time was booked entirely on campus. 

Your last class of the day: Advanced Human Religion. Fitting, for your current entanglement with a particular demon. Admittedly, that was the reason you took the class. Maybe it’d give you a better picture of what you were dealing with. But probably not. 

You just wanted the day to be over—time felt endless in the constant drawl of class after class, boring lecture after boring lecture. 

Until you saw him.

Time seemed to stop as he rounded the corner through the doorway, like a slow-motion movie scene. 

He wasn’t your usual type, you were usually exclusively drawn to the “tall, dark and handsome” trope. He ticked only two of those boxes. One, he was incredibly tall. He towered over you, and most of the people in the classroom, a perfectly proportioned giant. Lean, limber, and absolutely stunning. Two, he was unbelievably handsome. 

But dark? He was exactly the opposite. He was a glowing ray of light, you imagined if this was a cartoon there would be golden glitter sparkling around him as he walked. His cotton-candy blue hair was styled neatly on his head, tousled gently in a way that looked purposeful. He was effortlessly gorgeous, almost ethereal. 

Part of you wanted him to take the empty seat next to you, so badly. The other part wanted him as far away as possible—not only because the butterflies fluttering in your stomach were making you too nervous to breathe, but because he was so pure he could probably detect the sin permeating from your aura. You didn’t deserve to even be in the room with someone so sparkly and bright. You’d been fucking a bloodthirsty demon, after all. And you had the scars to prove it.

He was walking in your direction. Fuck. What do you do? Look at him, look away? Look at your phone? His eyes trained on the seat next to you. As he walked behind you, your heart stopped completely, breath frozen in your chest. Why were you so nervous? Why?

He took a gentle seat next to you as you fumbled uselessly on your phone, trying to pretend you didn’t even notice him. 

Your eyes wouldn’t listen. You glanced over at him, and he met your eyes warmly. He flashed you the most heavenly smile you’d ever seen, his eyes forming into soft crescents. He looked like the embodiment of sunshine. “Hi, I’m Yunho.” 

You felt yourself shrinking as the heat rose in your cheeks, unable to keep calm as you tried not to stare too obviously at him. “I-I’m Y/N,” you stuttered, shifting in your chair as you tried to stay upright. 

Other than his ray-of-sunlight aura, he smelled incredible. Like warm, freshly baked bread wafting in the air on a summer day. He smelled like a nostalgia, like a distant memory you’d forgotten, but desperately wanted to remember. 

You didn’t have a chance to make too much conversation with him, as your lecture was about to start any second. You had a hard time focusing for the rest of the class—it seemed like both the longest and shortest hour of your entire life. The tightness in your chest was overwhelming, heart beating ruthlessly fast in your chest. You weren’t sure if he could tell from beside you how much you were struggling to focus, but if he even saw half of the nervousness you felt, he’d probably think you were crazy. 

The minute your professor dismissed the class, you practically sprang up out of your seat, too anxious to face him again, but his voice immediately stopped you, deep and smooth, from your side. “See you tomorrow.” 

A blush rose to your cheeks. You didn’t even consider that you’d have to go through this again. How were you going to handle these feelings every day? You smiled kindly, concealing your nerves the best you could. “Right, see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you.”

You beelined your way out the door, practically gasping for air as you made it out of the classroom. 

You made your way to the bus stop, putting in your headphones, searching desperately for a song to calm your nerves. Your head was filled with images of him, ethereal and glowing. The first time your mind wasn’t filled with thoughts of San in a while. You didn’t exactly know what it was, but something about Yunho drew you in, had you completely flustered like you’d never experienced. Dare you say, even with San. What was it?

A shadow obstructed your vision for a moment, drawing your gaze up. And farther up. Yunho. He smiled warmly above you, his figure illuminated by light washing up behind him. You tugged out your earbud frantically as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You take the 5 too?” he asked, gesturing to your bus stop. “What a coincidence, huh?” 

You thought you’d gotten off easy today. You had no idea what to say, mind fumbling for words as his smile pulled you farther and farther into nervousness. Butterflies enveloped your stomach, creeping up into your chest. You were surprised when you managed to reply semi-coherently. “Long time no see,” you jested lightly, eliciting a cute chuckle from him. “Yeah, I take the 5. I could take the 11, but the 5 comes more often.” God, what were you saying? “Anyway, I meant to ask… are you new here?”

“Yeah, I just transferred here this semester,” he explained. Makes sense why you hadn’t seen him before. You heard the screeching of the bus’ wheels coming to a halt by your side, but you were entirely focused on him. He was so tall you nearly had to tip your head ninety degrees to meet his gaze with him standing in front of you, unlike when he was sitting next to you in class. “I don’t know many people yet.”

You boarded the bus with him, and he took a seat next to you. His heavenly smell was overwhelming, you wanted to bury your head in his fuzzy sweater and never let go. It was a weird thought, but you couldn’t help but think he would give really good hugs. Like a fluffy cloud in the shape of a human. You chatted lightly, mostly about the classes you were taking, your professors. It went all too fast, and when he got off at his stop, you almost wanted to follow him. But that would be really creepy. Despite trying to avoid him before, now that you were talking, you didn’t want to stop. 

You didn’t summon San that night. 

You wondered if he was watching you flirt with Yunho on the bus. He told you he’d stop watching you when you expressed your displeasure at him being so intrusive, but you wouldn’t call anything about San trustworthy. You almost wondered if he could read your thoughts sometimes. Would he be mad that you had such an undeniable crush on another guy? It’s not like you and San were dating, but you definitely had a relationship of some sort, however unusual it was. You recalled the bitterness in San’s voice when he mentioned you getting the handsome man’s number from the bar. You couldn’t imagine how he’d feel about you crushing on your new classmate. 

The highlight of your day quickly grew from summoning San to getting to talk to Yunho for a few moments before and after class and on the bus. You had undeniable chemistry with Yunho, and he was like a walking shot of pure serotonin, a bright ray of happiness in your otherwise dull days. 

You still summoned San at night every so often. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Yunho at all, not even a fleeting sarcastic comment. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally following through with his promise of not spying on you. 

The nights with San were nice, but you stayed away from anything explicitly sexual for a while. Your contracts became purely professional—well, as professional as an unprofessional demon boy cleaning your bathroom for you in exchange for your virgin blood could get.  It felt entirely wrong to lust after him so desperately while your mind was filled with thoughts of your new crush. You almost felt dirty when San was around, like a cheater, though you didn’t know who exactly you were cheating on. You and Yunho were mere acquaintances still, and yet being in the presence of your demon felt wrong. Sinful—and not in the good way. 

You rejected San’s flirting, shying from his soft kisses, ducking away when he pinned you like prey against your wall, pulling away from him when his hands explored your waist a little too closely. You craved him entirely, but it felt so wrong. You did, however, let him feed from you still—his lust for your blood was still insatiable, and you felt cruel not even letting him get a taste—but your newest condition was that he couldn’t use your neck. 

You couldn’t help but cry out when his fangs sunk into your skin, pain mixing with pleasure as San’s fangs pierced just above your hip bone. The scars were starting to compound, and with each bite, they seemed to heal less and less cleany. You definitely started to look like a vampire’s chew toy in a way you couldn’t just explain away anymore. 

His tongue against your skin had you squirming—the neck felt intimate, but your hips were even more so. You imagined his tongue dancing across your skin, his hand sneaking down below the waistband of your pants, his fangs pulling your panties off with his teeth. The fantasy dissolved in your mind when he pulled up from your skin, pushing the hem of your shirt back down while he swiped his other hand over his fangs, smearing the blood with a satisfied moan.

He kept his hand on your waist as he came up, finger tracing your chin, hungry for you after a long night of contracted housework. You could tell he wanted you, more than just your blood, he wanted you. He was begging for you with his eyes, lustful and intense. You wanted him too. You wanted your lips against his, pressed up against yours passionately, the feeling of his cold metal lip ring scraping your bottom lip. You wanted his hands all over you, you wanted to hear his sweet praises in your ear. 

But you also couldn’t get the image Yunho out of your head. The things you wanted him to do to you, even more so. The guilt wouldn’t let you go.

You shied away from San, breaking eye contact. “San—I—I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

He sighed, clicking his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. Your constant rejections of him were probably suspicious, but you didn’t know how to tell him about Yunho. 

“Fine. But you know, something’s off with you.” He narrowed his eyes, his scrutinizing crimson gaze making you incredibly self-conscious. Like you were under investigation. 

“I’m just overloaded with school right now.” Were you really lying to him? That was a dangerous game.

“Are you lying to me? That pretty little face doesn’t hide very much, you know.” Fuck. “Whatever. I’m not obligated to stay here. Our contract is up anyway.”

“San, wait—” 

But he was gone. 

The empty space on your bed where he just was stung just as much as the still-fresh bite mark on your hip. You lifted your hand to meet your cheek, wet with saltwater. Why were you crying?

“Who knew a class about religion was going to have such a crazy workload?” 

You shoved your notebooks into your school back as you packed up at the end of class. The only class you looked forward to in the day also happened to be the hardest one—your professor turned out to be especially harsh with his tests, and assigned so much work you could hardly keep up. 

“Right? I thought this was going to be an easy one. Maybe I should have been tipped off by the ‘Advanced’ part of the class description,” you responded with a smile, eliciting one of his intoxicating laughs. You couldn’t help but smile when he smiled.

“Maybe we could study together?”

Your heart stopped in your chest, and you paused for a moment to weigh his proposal. It wasn’t a difficult decision. “That would be nice,” you said with a flirtatious smile. You hadn’t had a chance to hang out with him outside of the setting of school yet. Although it was just an invitation to study, it almost felt like he was asking you on a date. “I know a cafe we could go to. It’s open pretty late. We could go tonight if you wanted,” you added. 

A night free of demon drama would be nice for once. The guilt when you looked at San was practically eating you alive. You couldn’t lie to him anymore, but you also couldn’t face him enough to tell him the truth. You would jump on any reason to avoid having to have that conversation one more day.

“I’m not doing anything now, actually. We could go right now?”

You nodded with a soft smile. “Sounds great.”

The time flew way too fast as you studied at the cafe with him. You’d gone relatively early, but you somehow managed to still be there when they started ushering the customers out at closing. You were studying, but it also felt like a date of sorts. You were being particularly flirty, and if you weren’t imagining things, he was too. He bought you a coffee, held the chair out for you as you sat down, even brushed up against you a few times while you sat next to each other.

“Is it just me or did that feel like it went by way too fast?” Yunho asked with a laugh, holding open the door for you as you stepped outside.

You were met immediately with the cold night air, coughing you to shiver a bit from the chill of the wind against your skin. Yunho’s arm came down suddenly to wrap around your shoulders, his thick fuzzy sweater warming you in the cold, though he had to lower himself down a bit to get a proper angle on your shoulders. You melted into his touch immediately, heat rising in your face. It felt… right. You never wanted to leave this moment. 

“Would you like to come back to my apartment?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to seem too forward. “To finish studying, I mean. We still have a bit left to go over.” 

Studying. Funny. That’s definitely not what you wanted to do with him right now. 

He squeezed his arm around you tighter. “I’d love to.”

You settled down at your apartment with him. You hadn’t had a guy in your apartment other than San in months. Actually, come to think of it, you hadn’t had anyone in your apartment other than San in that time. At least it was already sparkling clean, thanks to your demon maid. 

You settled on your loveseat couch—it was all you had room for in your small apartment. Yunho nestled up next to you, scooting up next to you until his hips were touching yours. You did your best to focus on the work in front of you, but you couldn’t help but feel distracted by what his touch was doing to you. It was so minimal it was almost non-existent, but even the faintest brush of him against you had you blushing and flustered. 

Yunho glanced over at you. “So, for this question, I think we need to—”  

But you couldn’t let him finish. You were leaning into him before you even had a chance to ask yourself what you were doing. Your lips met his softly. He tasted like sunshine, like heaven itself. He rocked back against you, hands lacing in your hair, moaning against your lips. You pushed back into him, savoring every taste of him. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his hands moving to—

“Sorry to interrupt your fun.”

You nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sudden voice, echoing loudly off the walls.

San. He was standing in front of the kitchen, leaning against the counter top. His eyes glared darkly in your direction. 

“San, holy fuck. What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes flitting over to Yunho. He couldn’t just appear like that, he was going to get himself in massive trouble. 

He ignored you entirely, his eyes almost black as he drew his gaze over to your guest. “Yunho. Surprised to see you here. What business do you have with my human, exactly?

Did he just call him by his name? How did San—

“San. Always a displeasure,” Yunho responded at your side. 

What the fuck was going on here? You watched in shock as their eyes met, both seemingly as displeased as the other to see each other. 

“I’m sorry, explain to me what’s going on?” you asked with wide eyes, voice rising as your confusion compounded. 

San took a few threatening steps forward, like an animal protecting its territory. “Your little lover boy right here… is a former colleague of mine. Care to tell her, Yunho? Or are you just gonna lead her on, hmm?”

Yunho glanced at you, his big eyes filled with what looked like regret, then back at San vengefully. Anger didn’t look right on him. “You don’t have to do this, San.” 

San flashed his fangs in a sinister snarl. “If you don’t tell her, I will.” 

Yunho glanced at you for a moment, then back at San, hesitating. “San, really, you don’t have to do this,” he pleaded again, eyes wide as he glanced back at you. He shuffled closer to you, putting a hand on your leg protectively.  

“I warned you,” he growled. “So you’re going around kissing humans now, hmm? Is there some sort of new angel code I missed somewhere?”

I’m sorry, did he say angel? 

“You really aren’t the same San I remember,” Yunho said through his teeth, ruffling his free hand through his cotton-candy hair in annoyance. The other gripped tighter on your leg. “What did you think you’d accomplish by coming here, anyway?”

“I’m trying to find out what business you have with Y/N. She’s not even your assignment. You thought you’d just have a little fun with her, huh? Didn’t know you were the type to play with your humans.”

Yunho sighed. “I’ve been reassigned.”

“So she is your assignment now, is that it?”

“Yes.” Yunho dropped his gaze from San’s for a moment, locking it with yours for a moment. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he whispered softly.

Ugh. Why did every guy you fell for have to be not human? You knew a boy like Yunho was too good to be true, anyway. You were sensing a pattern. 

“You go around kissing all your assignments then?”

A blush rose to Yunho’s cheeks, staining them a gorgeous shade of rose. Even now, he glowed ethereally, fittingly angelic for an angel. Guess that explained why he was always sparkling. And why he smelled like the actual embodiment of heaven. “Not usually, no. I got caught up in the moment. It was unprofessional.” San rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue against his teeth mockingly, but Yunho continued. “I’ve been assigned to protect her.”

“From what?” San asked, relaxing his hostile stance back a bit. 

Yunho glanced at you, then back at San, uneasiness coming through in his gaze. 

“From you.”

#ateez smut #san smut #yunho smut #san x reader #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #choi san smut #jeong yunho smut #hongjoong smut #wooyoung smut #choi san fic #ateez fic #ateez fanfic

[referrix]

Domino Palace 

(Image Description test 2.)

[ID: Ten screenshots of Winx Club season one, showing Bloom exploring the Palace of Domino.

Picture one: Bloom stands in the background wearing cold weather gear, she is partially obstructed by the remains of a gate. The gate is mostly missing, only a third remains, it is made of thin lines curled into spiral patterns, beyond it in the foreground is a dark corridor. There are signs of ice on Bloom’s side of the gate.

Picture two: The intersection of a hallway, the edges of the shot show ice coating the walls in the foreground, The path leads straight ahead from the lower left corner to slightly higher on the lower right, and at a right angle off to the left in the midground. In the mid and background decorative columns line the walls, part of the walls themselves rather than free floating.  Actual column part is designed to look like women in dressed, the stone which melds the column to the ceiling looks like a headdress. The column ladies have outstretched arms which join the hands of the column next to them, in their hands they support a wall sconce, nearer the ground their skirts flare out along the walls to interweave with the column beside them. The empty space of the wall is decorated with an upside down love heart. This column pattern is repeated down the visible sections of the hallway. The Column in the center of the shot makes the corner of the T intersection and has a few large crack near the base.

Picture three: A close up of the bases of the column in picture two, it shows the interweaving of the folds from the skirts. The central dress of the column on the right has a crack in it.

Picture four: Bloom stands in cold weather gear in a doorway. The double doors have been smashed open, the one on the left has been frozen to the wall, the one of the right is bent  in the middle and sitting against the wall covered in ice. In the foreground there are strange shapes made of ice, more items covered but indistinguishable to the viewer.

Picture five: part of an aesthetic column is framed by two broken pictures, the picture on the left has the image of a person looking to the left, and the picture to the right is cut off by the edge of the picture. a small amount of light illuminates the bottom right half of the picture.

Picture six: in the background is a heavy looking table, the legs look like snakes have slithered down the central block of the table’s underside, four of them can be seen. In the foreground is a chair sitting upright on the left side of the picture, while on the right another chair, or possibly a stool has been knocked over.

Picture seven: Bloom in cold weather gear stands in a dimly lit room, everything inside it damaged. in the background broken columns and torn pictures line the wall, in the foreground is debris of unknown origin, one of the larger chunks is covered with ice.

Picture eight: several sections of the palace are shown, they are tilted to the left. In the background on the right bottom corner is the top of a tower, in the midground on the left is a tower with a large bank of windows and an external stairway. This tower has a few chunks of ice clinging to it. In the foreground a protruding walkway with a dome is covered with ice. 

Picture nine: The Palace of Domino seen from outside, it is mostly covered with ice, a pinkish dome and several towers are visible and free of ice, as are some parts of the external wall.

Picture ten: The courtyard of the palace. In the foreground are some broken columns and statues facing what was once likely a fountain. The Statues have their arms raised. The decorative statues near the base of the fountain are broken, and at the center another statue, a vague figure seems to be raising their arms up. more statues can be seen surrounding the fountain, a continuation of the broken statues from the foreground. In the background is a covered hallway which leads around the courtyard, a series of doors can be seen beyond the hallway’s support columns.

end ID]

The people who do Image IDs have my utmost respect, I don’t think I’m very good at it.

Seriously I keep wavering between “that’s too much info” and “that’s not enough info” and “how do I even begin to describe this?” and “which features are okay to ignore and which ones must be mentioned?!”

#winx #winx club #domino #winx domino #season 1 reference screenshots #image description