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dialhforhorrorpodcast · 2 years ago

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Skinamarink Review

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Last month, I saw this trailer that really freaked me out on YouTube.

And so I became obsessed with seeing this film because if a trailer can freak me out, then the movie has to be scary, right? Right?

As it turns out… no. No it’s not.

So the film I’m talking about today is Skinamarink. An indie film distributed by IFC Midnight and written and directed by Kyle Edward Bell. It was released on January 13th in theaters and then released on Shudder on February 2nd. I watched it on February 2nd and… it’s a movie!

Now, I don’t want this to be me lambasting this movie and mocking something that is genuinely very creative. I know that the channel Wendigoon did a break down video about it. I haven’t watched it yet because I didn’t wanna do this review and spend time focusing on trying to understand the plot. I feel like the whole point of this movie is to see a very creatively done film. The only thing is that… it wasn’t very scary. But… that isn’t necessarily a bad thing!

So this blog won’t be spoiler free. It’ll be divided into two parts. Part one will be me breaking down as many scenes as I can to recap the main storyline. Part two will be reviewing the movie overall. I feel like this whole movie is an experience and it’s an experience I suggest you see for yourself so if you don’t want any spoilers, this would be the time to leave and come back when you’ve seen the film. Without further ado, let’s get into it!

Part One: Where are the doors…?

So, I’m going to try and talk about as much of this movie as I can from memory. If I mess up some details, I apologize. But for now, let’s talk about the plot of Skinamarink.

There are only five characters in this film. Technically, there’s only four, but I’m counting the entity as a character as well. The film centers around a mom and dad - named Mom and Dad in the movie - and their two kids Kaylee and Kevin. It starts out with Kevin apparently falling down the stairs during a game of hide and seek with his sister. Dad takes him to the hospital and then comes back to inform Mom that he needed stitches.

The film then switches to Kaylee and Kevin waking up and realizing that there are no windows or doors in their house anymore and their father is missing. They decide to sleep downstairs because something weird is going on with Mom. We can hear crying, but we don’t yet know what that is. The kids start trying to figure out what’s going on, especially once their toilet disappears from the bathroom. There’s all sorts of strange noises and happenings in the house, including a chair and lamp on the ceiling and toys sticking to the walls.

Kaylee hears someone call her name and tell her to come upstairs to which she obliges. Dad is sitting on the bed and asks her to look under it. She says she cannot see what’s down there. Dad asks her to look again and still we don’t see anything underneath. When she looks back up, Mom is now sitting on the other side of the bed while Dad is gone. Mom tells her to close her eyes and when Kaylee opens them, Mom is gone. “Mom” then tells Kaylee to go back downstairs, but she doesn’t listen. We get a very faint glimpse of the entity before it screeches and we’re back downstairs with Kevin.

Kaylee returns from her journey upstairs and asks Kevin to help her move the couch, presumably to keep whatever was upstairs from getting to them. They move the couch, but Kaylee is never the same. Kevin tries to get her to tell him what happened, but she’s unwilling to share. Eventually, Kaylee disappears entirely, leaving Kevin alone in the house with the entity.

The entity eventually beckons Kevin down the stairs to the basement and it’s here we get one of the best scares in the entire movie. As he’s downstairs, he hears Kaylee calling to him and saying she doesn’t feel well. The camera pans around and we see her sitting on the ground before a sharp cut to her face. This is the only time we see anyone’s face full on in the entire film and it is chilling. Kaylee has no mouth and no eyes. It lingers on the shot for a bit before switching back to Kevin in the living room.

From this point on, the entity tries to get Kevin’s attention to “play” with him. Messing with toys and even talking to him. It then convinces Kevin to stab himself in the eye with a knife to which he does.

Injured, sick, alone, and scared, we hear Kevin crying as we see blood on the wall from his eye. He makes his way to the phone and calls 911. He tells the operator that he hurt himself and he feels sick, going on to explain the strange things happening to him. He tells them he’s alone, he’s hurt, and there are no windows or doors in his house. The operator eventually goes silent and the flashlight in Kevin’s hand drops, revealing that the phone has been turned into a toy phone with a taunting smile. Kevin finally directly addresses the entity by saying, “you did that.” That’s when it explains that it's done everything, including taking Kaylee’s mouth because she didn’t follow instructions - which were to go downstairs.

From here, the movie seems to devolve into an even trippier nightmare. Kevin is asked to go upstairs, to which he does. Upstairs we see things have changed. Our view is as if we’re hanging from the ceiling. We view the house as a dollhouse with the strange, cartoonish music continuing to play over the shots. We see blood splatter on the ceiling and hear the cries of each child, insinuating that they - and their parents - are more than likely dead now. The film ends with a flashlight lighting up random parts of the house, including that horrifying looking toy phone which lets out a deafening ring as its face distorts. Each flash showing you how the house ended up in the aftermath of the events we just witnessed before gracing you with a title card that says, “The End.”

Part Two: What is this movie…?

I’m not going to try and explain what I think this movie means. If you want an explanation, you’ll have to go elsewhere for that. This is a review blog. I will say, this movie was very, very unique. There are things I liked about it. So, let me explain my thoughts about Skinamarink.

First off, I feel like I would’ve liked this movie better if I’d seen it in theaters. When I watched the film, I was sick, I wasn’t in the best mindset, and it was dark and rainy so… to be honest, I fell asleep at one part. I don’t feel like I missed anything pivotal, but this movie is so quiet. It really requires you to focus. Without seeing the characters fully and a ton of dialogue, you’re basically meant to watch the screen to get an idea of the story and that’s hard to do when you’re sick and physically tired. So, while this film is still out in theaters, I urge you to watch it there instead of on Shudder.

Second, I will say, this film felt like a YouTube video and I mean this in the best way possible. Let me explain. Analog horror has been a big thing in the last few years with the Mandela Catalogue and the Walten Files on YouTube rising to prominence. These are well done videos with scary imagery and oftentimes a story where you have to pay attention, read between the lines, and sometimes, watch a video of someone explaining the plot to you. Skinamarink hit all those beats. It was eerie, it was vague, and it left me wondering what I just watched. It’s one of those films where I actually want to see more and would love a sequel in the same style with maybe a bit more story given.

However, I can see why this movie doesn't work for everyone. Mainly by the way it’s filmed. We really only see glimpses of our characters throughout the movie and the only face we do see full on is Kaylee’s where she’s missing her eyes and mouth. There aren’t many moving shots. A lot of them focus on one corner of a room, a light from the tv, a toy on the ground, or even just the wall or ceiling. We never really see our characters so, as such, we don’t get attached to them. That doesn’t mean that it’s not horrifying to see Kaylee missing her human features from her face or seeing the bloody aftermath of Kevin stabbing his eye out at the entity’s request, but it’s hard to get a visceral reaction out of viewers when the characters are not fleshed out enough for us to care.

My main gripe with this film is that aside from the scene with Kaylee and the loud phone ring at the end of the movie, there’s really nothing all that scary about it. While it does set up an eerie atmosphere, it doesn’t ever go too far beyond that. Most of the time, you’re just waiting for something to happen and it almost never does. I will say, it makes you drop your guard so that when those two scares do happen, you’re affected by them more, but the movie is almost two hours. For a movie to be that long and really only have two decent payoffs of the scares is disappointing. Especially when it felt like there were more opportunities to really add some scary imagery or sequences throughout.

That doesn’t mean that Skinamarink is a bad movie. Not at all! I loved the style. It’s so unique and different from what horror movies today are doing. And I would love to know more about what is happening with this entity. Why did it choose them? Where did it come from? What’s its purpose? The movie is unsettling and bizarre and I think that’s all it wanted to really be. Sometimes we just have to be ok with that overall as a viewer. Will I watch this movie again? Probably. Maybe when I’m physically feeling better and on a day with some more sun out. Do I recommend this movie? If you’re looking for something that’s unique and not really going to give you a ton of exposition then yes. If you need that to enjoy the movie, no. I wouldn’t.

Overall, Skinamarink is a fascinating and unique film that unfortunately, is not very scary, but it’s cool and artsy and I can applaud Bell on that! Plus, he made this on a shoestring budget and filmed it in his parent’s house and it grossed well over a couple million dollars so it’s safe to say, this movie was something a lot of people wanted to see! For that, I award Skinamarink 3 out of 5 skulls!

Thank you for reading! Check out my socials for more information and the previous episodes I’ve done!

Stay spooky! 🎃

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years ago

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The Last Chthonian

Part 17

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

A/N: It is here! So sorry for the late update lovelies! I’ve been having really bad writers block lately and my job keeps switching my hours up so now my sleep schedule is all fucked up. And after writing this part I want to go stargazing so bad but the light pollution kind of sucks where I live. 🥲 Also this is my first time writing a steamy scene so I’m sorry if it’s awkward. Feedback is much appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 😊

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appears at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, angst, some foreplay and making out

You had still been wrapped in Zemo’s arms, the two of you indulging in each other’s presence in a silence, which combined with the faint beating of his heart, you only found to be comforting. The meteors still swept by the earth’s atmosphere above you in flashes that lit up the sky, leaving behind trails of white that resembled the strokes of a brush, as if your mother Asteria had painted the celestial bodies using diamonds onto a canvas that was the night sky. You could only make out the few stars and constellations that were scarcely scattered across the vastness above you, caused by the light pollution that unfortunately managed to mantle the wonders and beauty that settled just beyond, separating humanity from the marvels of the universe. The stars flickered like the diminishing of the flame of a candle, a farewell to the billions of years lived by the remnants of those enormous spheres of hot plasma, thus leaving behind the birth of other stars to fulfill their legacy. However, there was a certain star that did not flicker like the ones around it, a certain spectacle distant in time and space that still managed to burn bright despite the innumerable amount of light-years that separated Earth from it. The remaining light of your planet Olympus. You stared at that particular star, your brows knit together and your face etched with this certain melancholy that one could not explain. How could one thing be so near, within the reach of your fingertips, and yet be entirely outside the capacity of reach.

“Draga.” You heard Zemo softly speak, his chest slightly wavering beneath your cheek from his words.

“Hm?”

“Something troubles you.”

“What makes you say that?” You stared off, your eyes still fixated to the fading existence of your world.

“Your eyes draga.” Zemo looked down at you, his eyes scanning over the troubled creases that masked your features. “I have seen this shadow in your eyes that has seemed to occupy them as of recently. What troubles you?”

“…………You see that star there, right between those two constellations?” You pointed above you.

“Mhm.” Zemo nodded as he followed the line of your finger, his eyes now focused on the same exact star yours have not yet left.

“That’s my planet………Olympus.”

“You’re welcome to tell me about it if you’d like.”

“Well, when I was little, I used to live with my mother in this quaint cottage by the sea, similar to the one I live in now with my daughter. She used to bring me out most nights for stargazing. She had built this outdoor platform with bedding and blankets and we would have a small fire going to keep us warm as we watched the stars and constellations while she told me different tales and epic poetries. As silly as it sounds, she would make shooting stars appear in the sky for me knowing how much I loved them. Gods, I wish you could’ve seen my home back in its days, back when everything still remained. Everything was so…..beautiful, and the skies, gods the skies, you could see the different planets and galaxies as if they were only miles away. To this day, I have yet to see anything in my travels that compares.”

“I would have loved to seen it Schatzi. Your mother sounded like a wonderful person.”

“She was the kindest soul I knew.” You turned your body so that you could look up at him, resting your chin on your hand.

“You miss her.”

“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my family and planet.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to them Schatzi. I wish you never went through what you did.”

“If only I could bring them back. I’d do anything to be able to just see them again.”

Zemo was silent, believing that no amount of words could have provided you comfort, no matter how deep the meaning or how significant. He could not imagine what you went through. He had lost his country and his family, and you had lost your family as well, but you lost your world, your entire race, leaving you to be the last remaining entity of your people, the last Olympian and the last Chthonian. Words could not bring your family back, just as they could not with his. So he only did what he was able, making a silent unspoken promise within the abyss of his damaged heart to be there for you as he held you closer to him and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

A sudden feeling of guilt crawled up your spine like a venomous scorpion ready to sink its stinger in your skin with means to cause nothing but pain and suffering. You felt guilty for being here, lying next to Zemo wrapped in his arms like a pair of star-crossed lovers from the pages of a novel. A part of you felt selfish for what you did, undeserving of the affection that was bestowed upon you from a man who had suffered enough from the loss of his family. How much longer did you think you could give in to your mindless emotions without a single thought of the consequences it might bring about. Did you really think you could go on as if nothing is happening? As if you can conceal your true form from him forever. No. You could not. You did not have the heart to keep such knowledge from him. If you wanted to pursue what you had with him, you would have to tell him the truth when the time came.

“We should probably get back before Sam and Bucky notice.” You mumbled, blinking back the tears, your heart aching to go back to the way things used to be, wishing you could leave all of this and just be able to go back home. You didn’t belong here on earth, an immortal amongst mortals. At least on Olympus, if your titaness form had been revealed, many would not have bat an eye. They had already seen the likes of Titans before and the locals had become accustomed to you. But here on earth, you were nothing but a stranger, a drifter.

The two of you walked back to his place in silence, the only sounds being the whistling of the wind, the chirping of crickets, the voices of the few pedestrians and the humming of the cars that drove by. Your hands brushed against each other, craving to intertwine your fingers with his as you walked down the stone paved streets lit by the lamps that lined it, the two of you still withdrawn despite what occurred between you both. You felt it would have been silly, holding his hand like a couple of teenagers, though a century ago, you wouldn’t have gave it a second thought.

You arrived at his place, standing at the bottom of the steps in front of the double doors with Zemo opposite you, illuminated by the street lamp that stood just behind. Feelings of conflict washed over you, drowning you in waves of despair. As much as you wanted to be with him, a small part in the back of your mind kept telling you that it was wrong. Neither of you wanted to go through those doors just yet, wishing you could have spent the night under the stars. But life seems to have a way of working against your favor. The Wakandans would be here to collect him possibly tomorrow, and you would have to bid him farewell, separated from each other for what could be forever. As much as you did not look forward to that moment in having to turn him in and never see him again, you wouldn’t stop the Wakandans from what they were promised. And though you hadn’t said a word, Zemo had already knew what your decisions were regarding it, and he could not blame you for it. You were a woman of justice and you followed a code, and he respected that.

“Zemo.” A frown appeared on your face.

“Please,” Zemo whispered to you as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Call me Helmut.”

You looked at Zemo once more, a look of longing hidden behind your eyes as you unconsciously swiped your tongue across your mouth, watching how his eyes followed the movement before lingering on the wetness of your lips that resembled the petals of a rose after the pouring of cold rain in the midst of spring. Oh how he wished to be the drops of rain that were gifted the pleasure of grazing upon the velvety petals that belonged to such beauty of a flower, a symbol of union between the two domains in which the heavens came down to declare its love for the earth. A pulling sensation filled within your core, drawing yourself to Zemo as if he were the sweet berries of deadly nightshade that have lured many unfortunate souls. Banishing the thoughts of doubt that clouded your mind, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Zemo was initially shocked by your bold gesture and stiffened from the way your mouth moved against his, surprised you would pull something like this when just a wall away Sam and Bucky were awaiting your arrival, before loosing himself into your embrace.

Your fingers clenched the collar of his sweater and your fingers grazed across the exposed skin of his neck while his hands went to your waist in a desperate attempt, fumbling to grab at anything and bunching up the bottom fabric of your sweater as he pulled you against him. The tips of his fingers brushed against the skin of your waist that was exposed below the hem of your sweater, leaving behind goosebumps in its trail. You smiled into the kiss from the way he completely melted under your touch, a part of you amused from the affect you held over him as you managed to elicit a moan from deep within his throat. Zemo’s brows were furrowed in the passionate moment, something you have noticed when you first kissed him, a small crease in the muscles of his face that showed just how lost he was when encased in this moment with you, and it absolutely melted you. He was addicted from the warm numbness, the ecstasy he felt from kissing you. Your lips were like heroin to him, leaving him yearning for more, and it didn’t ameliorate the fact that his years spent in a German prison had left him somewhat inexperienced and filled with a chasmic longing for touch and intimacy from the lack thereof. Deep within him, masked by his ideas and objectives, Zemo wanted to be able to love someone again, a chance at a new life and a family, and perhaps, he saw that possibility with you. But, behind the passion of the kiss you shared with him, there was something else, a poison that laced your lips with feelings of despair and forbidding that consumed you as if you had tasted those sweet berries of nightshade, slowly loosing yourself to its malice. His lips which were at first warm to the touch, now felt cold like ice and sent shivers of dread through your veins, as if this would be the last kiss you shared with him.

You pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, your teeth softly grazing against his bottom lip as you did so. Both of you were left breathless as you rested your foreheads against each other, panting as your breaths fanned each other’s face as if you had just been trapped in the depths of the ocean before breaking through the surface to allow oxygen to fill your lungs.

“If you keep doing that Draga.” Zemo rasped between breaths, “I won’t be able to compose myself.”

“Good. Maybe I don’t want you too.” You smirked before placing a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “But I really should go back inside, and you should do the same. Just make sure you go unnoticed.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders, his cologne that lingered on his fur collar leaving your senses with discontent as you returned his coat to him before going over to the doors, stopping to turn back to him with a smile before stepping inside and closing the door behind you. Gods, what the hell did you do that for???? You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you wanted to slap yourself for pulling a move like that.

“Gods I’m stupid.” You muttered to yourself.

“Hey.” Bucky smiled once he spotted you, his voice soft as if he were afraid you would shatter at any moment from the discussion that took place earlier. “How was your walk?”

“It was nice, relaxing. I went to the park to stargaze.”

“That’s good. As long as you feel better.”

“I do, actually. Thanks Bucky.”

“You look flushed. You okay?” Sam noted as he stepped over to you.

“Huh?” You stopped short. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just had to kind of uh power walk back here so you guys wouldn’t get worried. But I’m fine, yeah. Anyways, I’m going to hit the sack since I’m feeling a bit tired. Goodnight you guys.” You waved them off before going to your assigned room, making Sam and Bucky give each other questioning looks before they both shrugged it off.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a breath of relief that they had not caught on to anything and praying that Zemo had managed to sneak in. You had just gotten off the phone with Maze and your daughter, catching up on their activities after cleaning yourself up and changing into your nightgown. You had pulled up a chair next to the window that was in your room, your feet tucked underneath you and a warm cup of rose and blackberry tea in your hands. Your robe hung loosely off your shoulders as your index finger twirled above the small silver spoon that swirled in your cup, mists of violet wrapping around the handle of the spoon as you used your powers to stir the contents of the tea. You stared out the window onto the old streets of Latvia before glancing down at the teacup that was nestled in your hands, the glow of your eyes reflected off the window pane along with the tiny stars that swirled through the small globe of your necklace your mother gave you. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the moments that passed and the ones that have yet to come.

There was a knock on your door, interrupting you from the thoughts that had resided in your mind. “Come in.” You spoke as you looked through the reflection of the window and saw a figure step in. “Zemo?” You stopped using your powers, the clinking of the spoon scraping against the sides of the porcelain cup coming to a stop. “You know, you gotta stop sneaking into my room.” You teased before frowning, seeing the expression that sat on his face. “What’s wrong?” You got up from the chair, setting your cup down on the table before walking over to him.

“The Wakandans will…….be here for me tomorrow.” His eyes were lowered to the floor, the browns of his irises which reminded you of the dunes of the Sahara desert were whirling in thought, resembling the dunes caught in the midst of the fury of a sandstorm, as if searching for an answer to his troubles.

“Ze-Helmut, I………” You sighed, your tongue and mind lacking the ability to compose any words that might have provided some solace. “I’m sorry………..I don’t know what to say.”

“Y/n, schatzi” Zemo grabbed your hand, tracing his thumb over the bumps of your knuckles. “You don’t have to say a word. My actions………must be accounted for.”

You were silent, your brows knit together and your lips sealed as if your voice was ripped from your throat. Your heart wanted to tear itself from your chest, begging to be released from its cage so that it could be free to lament, so that it may be able to express the words that held it captive. But your tongue was tied, held back between the prison that was your teeth as you clenched your jaw. Zemo’s hand still held yours, stroking the soft skin on the back of your hand which were a contrast to the small rough patches on your palm, before you heard him speak again. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, lips parted in surprise that he would even ask such a question when you were honestly willing to kiss him any time of the day. The Zemo you had come to know was far different than the one you had heard about, his cold demeanor seemed to completely fade when he was around you, like a fog that dissipated with the coming of daylight. A part of you pondered whether this was how he used to be, before the events that happened. Though he hadn’t had a chance to share such affection with anyone and lost practice, you still found him to be great kisser and it always managed to leave you breathless. “Yes, please.” You whispered, your voice barely audible before you felt his lips brush against yours. What was sweet at first became more feverish and filled with hunger as an unfamiliar spirit seemed to possess your body, darkening the amethysts and golds of your eyes that resembled the galaxies, into the blackness of the abyss that swallowed the outer edges of space where not even the slightest bit of light could reach, almost as if you were sinking your claws into your prey.

A heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, filling your body with an electrifying warmth as his mouth moved against yours more confidently this time, catching you utterly by surprise and leaving your knees weak, a feeling similar to the stillness in the air a mere second before lightning strikes the ground beneath your feet. His hands slipped down to grab the flesh of your waist, dehydrated, and filled with an intense thirst that could only be quenched by your body that was the ocean, your skin separated by the silk fabric of your nightgown. Your hands went up to grip his shoulders as a gasp escaped your lips upon feeling him move down to your jaw and neck. Gods, since when was the last time you were touched like that?

“Helmut.” You rasped, struggling to hold back a moan as his lips sucked on the skin where your collarbone met your neck, making you lean your head back to allow him better access. Your robe had fell to the floor, leaving your arms completely bare while Zemo’s hands caressed the skin that lined them before resting on the dorsal part of your upper arms, the combination of the frigid air and his fingertips that felt like the touch of fire sending shivers through your body. “What if they hear?”

“Let them.”

“No……….I’m…….serious.”

“Well if you’re that worried Draga.” Zemo stopped to look at you. “The walls are thick enough.”

Gods that completely sent you over the edge. It felt as if you were on a high, your mind was not even within this dimension as Zemo met your lips again. You had to throw your arms around his neck to keep yourself from collapsing as the two of you shifted in the room, Zemo guiding your body before the back of your knees came in contact with the side of your bed. You let yourself fall back into the soft mattress, bringing Zemo down with you. You both were a mess, your hair disarray, the thin straps of your nightgown fallen past your shoulders had almost left your breasts exposed, and the skirt of your nightgown had ridden up to your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Zemo squeezed at the soft flesh of your thigh before attacking your neck again. He didn’t know how to describe it but you tasted absolutely divine. Perhaps being a goddess made you taste of ambrosia; the golden, honey-flavored fruit that grew on the trees of Olympus. You were in absolute bliss and thanked the gods he wouldn’t be able to leave a mark, at least you hoped not.

“Helmut.” You moaned, your nails digging into his biceps as his warm lips made a trail down your collarbone and lower to where the lace trim of your nightgown met just above the curve of your breasts, lingering on the space between, filling your mind with thoughts of a certain region you desired those lips to be. “Fuck.” You hissed from the contact, your hand moving its way to his head as you ran your fingers through his soft hair, your nails raking across the back of his scalp as the heat between your thighs only grew. You unconsciously pressed your heel to the lower part of his back, beckoning him closer to that heat between your thighs as you bucked your hips up. Zemo growled at the movement, slightly nipping at the skin where your breast had started to form, causing you to gasp and your eyes to fly open from the sensation.

“Apologies draga.” You heard him mutter before tenderly kissing the spot where his teeth had been.

Seeing Zemo in a close proximity above you in such a position had you dazed, wanting him to take you right then and there and not caring if the others heard you or not. And as your eyes wandered lazily over the sight of him, they widened in horror once they glimpsed at the image of your hands. Your nails became sharp, claw-like, and that deathly color had returned once again, slowly making its way up your arm like the tendrils of a shadow belonging to a demonic spirit.

“Helmut.” You whispered, your voice becoming panicked as you loosened your grip on his arms, being careful not to pierce his skin. “Helmut wait.”

Zemo stopped, pushing himself up to meet your eyes as his concern grew from seeing the frightened look that filled them. “Schatzi, what’s wrong?” He brought his hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair. “If you’re uncomfortable let me know.”

“No, gods no. If anything I don’t want you to stop.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. “It’s just that………….”

“What is it schatzi?” His voice was soft as his fingers caressed your cheek, afraid that he might have offended you in some way, afraid that he might have been too forward.

“I’m sorry Helmut. I want to, I really do, but not like this.” You shook your head as you got up, shifting over to where the dark shadows of the room fell on the bed to hide your arms, afraid to meet his eyes as if you had made a fool of yourself. “Not like this.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me y/n.” Zemo smiled at you. “If you’re not ready, than I’m not ready.”

“Thank you Helmut.” You smiled back before giving him a delicate kiss. “I’d………uh like to think some things through.” You prayed that he didn’t see your hands, hoping that the darkness of the room managed to disguise it.

“Of course draga.” Zemo placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before leaving your room, stopping at the door to give you a comforting smile as he carefully shut it behind him.

Your eyes still lingered on the door, waiting to make sure he didn’t come back before turning on the bedside lamp and staring down at your hands. You had managed to stop the color from spreading up your arm, yet it strangely still remained, stopping halfway up your forearm. This wasn’t good.

“What the hell?” You scrunched your nose, trying to use your powers once again to remove it but to no avail. Fear coursed through your veins as you attempted to remove the color, spell after spell, hoping those vine like tendrils would crawl back down your hands and disappear. You cursed under your breath as each attempt proved to be as futile as the one before. What the hell was going on? Why were your spells not working? It vanished before from your magic, why wasn’t it doing so now? You were struck with a sudden realization that perhaps this change would become permanent, that maybe suppressing your true form for all those years had caused it to spiral out of control and in turn try to overpower you as if it had a mind of its own. You growled through gritted teeth, the furniture around you shaking as your fists were clenched in frustration, the violet mists of your powers encompassing your hands and sparking with small bolts that corresponded with the vexation that overwhelmed you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, the mist around your hands disappearing and the shaking of the furniture coming to a stop. You had to work something out. You were left no choice but to keep your hands covered from now on until you found a solution. If any of them questioned it, you had to have a damn good lie. Getting up from the bed, you walked over to the double doors that led to the small balcony and opened them, your hands gripping the cold iron rail as you stared out at the view of the Latvian streets and buildings before you. Oh how you wished your sister Athena were here. She knew everything.

“Oh Athena.” You stifled a sob as you stared up at the stars, focusing on the light of your planet as if she could have heard you, a tear cascading down your cheek and dropping to the streets below. “Gods I wish you were here. I really need your help.”

Despite your pleas, you knew she wasn’t there, her existence only an artifact of the past. You were praying to nothing but a memory. It was extremely urgent that you got information on this matter of your form and the words of the prophecy that still threatened and echoed within the depths of your mind. And since you couldn’t obtain such knowledge from another Olympian, you would have to gather it from the old texts. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you waited, searching, until a small white moth came into view, fluttering in your direction. You held out your finger, letting the tiny creature come to rest upon it.

“Hello little one.” You smiled at the moth as you gently stroked it in greeting, bringing it closer to your face so that you could speak to it in your language. “Please send word to my familiar and tell him to gather as much information he can on Titans and the prophecy. And tell him to come find me when he is done. Thank you.” The moth looked at you with understanding behind his tiny black eyes, it’s antennaes twitching before fluttering away into the moon. You sighed, watching it disappear into the night before giving your distant planet one last glance before shutting the doors and going back over to the bed. You laid down under the covers, your hands rested on your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, dreading the day to come. How could you face Zemo? And however were you going to keep your hands a secret? Surely the three are bound to find out sooner or later? You just prayed that the message you sent would be returned in a short time. You needed to fix this before it would be considered too late. And the sooner you found Karli the better. Your mind was racing with thoughts, but you closed your eyes, desperate to get some rest and forcing those thoughts away. Gods help you from this moment on.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thehornyles @awhorewithissues @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic @hargreevesd @death-is-beautiful @ilovespideyyy @peakyrogers

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captastra · 4 years ago

Text

Movie Night

Pairing: Jill x Carlos

Warnings: horror movies mentioned ( The Evil Dead (1981), The Babadook). I don’t mention that one scene from Evil dead

Words: 2.9K

Jill and Carlos share a movie night together! Read here on AO3.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Jill, popcorn’s ready!”

Carlos’s voice rang out from where he sat in the living room.

“I’m on it,” Jill said, making her way into the kitchen. The smell of popcorn filled the kitchen, the scent of butter bringing a smile to Jill's face. They had started having movie nights two months ago and she was starting to enjoy these nights with him. Her last roommate had been a disaster and she was nervous about what would happen when she started to live here. But Carlos had won her over their first weekend together and the rest was history. Jill smiled to herself as she thought back on that weekend before grabbing some final snacks.

“Gonna let it burn or what? I got a movie to watch and not all night to wait.”

Jill rolled her eyes and picked up the two bowls she had made. “Calm down,” she yelled back at him. “It’s not my fault you got home late. I was all ready to go, but then I got stuck waiting for you.” She had made her way out into the room, setting down the bowls as she talked. “There’s no point in getting everything ready if it's going to sit out for an hour”

She placed her hands on her hips as Carlos rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively at her complaints.

“Not my fault work held me late. Mikhail needed my help and you know how Nikolai always bails at the last minute, leaving Mikhail hanging and me to deal with it. I can’t say no to the old man.” He gave her his puppy dog eyes look, frowning slightly. “You know I wouldn’t miss a movie night with my favorite roommate...”

“I’m your only roommate.”

“Still my favorite,” he winked at her, “unless I had to. So let's just watch the movies. I have a whole week I want to forget and that starts now.” He reached forward and grabbed a handful of popcorn before settling into the couch, propping his legs on the table in front of him. “I think you’re gonna like the movie I’ve decided we should watch. A real scare, this one.”

Jill hadn’t moved as Carlos spoke, but she had to agree with him when he brought up Nikolai. The one time she met him, he didn’t leave a good impression, and wasn’t a person she wanted to see again anytime soon. She knew she couldn’t blame him if that was really the case, no matter how important movie night was becoming for her. More important than she was willing to admit but Jill ignored those thoughts.

“Alright,” she sighed, “alright. But it better not be anything like the last movie you picked. That one was gore, gore, and more gore. What was scary was how the actors didn’t drown in all that blood while filming.” She settled herself down on the couch as she spoke, her back resting against the armrest opposite Carlos, and moved to shove her feet under his leg.

Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he lifted his leg to give her better room to hide her feet. “Comfy?”

She didn’t respond right away, focusing on getting herself comfortable on the couch. Once she had settled in, she reached for the popcorn and took a big handful to start eating. When she finally looked at him, she saw he was giving her a small smile as he rested his head on his hand.

Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, Jill said, “It gets cold and you’re a heater. What better place to keep my feet warm.” She wiggled her toes under his leg, getting a laugh out of him. “Now what movie did you pick?”

“Ladies first.”

Jill rolled her eyes but smiled. “Tonight, we are going to watch,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Evil Dead.”

“The one from a few years ago?”

“No, the original!”

“C’mon Jill, that movie is campy as all hell,” he shook his head slightly but his smile never faded. “It’s barely watchable from what I’ve heard. Is that really what you want to go with?”

“It’s a cult classic,” she huffed. “Besides, I get to pick a movie and that's what I want to watch. When was the last time you’ve even watched the movie?” Carlos only shrugged. “Ok then. We’re watching it and that's that.” She gave him a firm nod, signaling she was done with that part of the conversation. “Now, what did you pick?”

He sat up excitedly when she asked, his smile growing wider which made Jill chuckle softly. “You’re going to love this one. A really good scary one that I’m sure will even have tough-as-nails Jill Valentine on the edge of her seat.”

“Scarier than the laundry incident?”

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that incident?” He narrowed his eyes at her and pointed at her. “You promised.”

Jill held up her hands in defeat but gave him a wry smile. “Heh, alright. So what ‘oh so scary’ movie did you pick? Or are you gonna leave me hanging in suspense?”

He scoffed slightly, but answered, “The Babadook. I haven’t seen it yet but Tyrell swears it's one of the scariest movies he’s seen in awhile. It comes highly recommended is what I can say.

“I’ve heard it was pretty good too,” Jill nodded as she tried to remember what she had heard about the film. “I hope it's as good as your friend says it is” - she gave him a wicked smile - “since your last movie wasn’t scary at all.”

Before Carlos could respond, Jill's phone vibrated loudly on the table.

“Hey, what did we agree to about phones?”

“Sorry.” Jill picked up her phone to silence it but started laughing when she read the notification. “Oh Chris,” she mumbled but didn’t say anything else as she started to respond.

“What’d he do now?”

Carlos had only met her friends a handful of times since she had moved into the apartment, but no issues had come up yet between them. They didn't seem to mind having him around when they came over to hang out and that was good enough for her.

“Oh just the usual Chris drama.” She saw the quizzical look on Carlos’s face and continued. “Issues with Wesker. Neither can figure out what they want, but it’s not like Chris listens to me whenever I offer advice so I’m just forced to suffer through his complaints.”

“Never really cared for Wesker,” Carlos said. “Guy gives me weird vibes.”

“Ehhh, yeah. I just listen to Chris and try not to get in the way.” She put the phone back on the table. “Now enough about Chris. Lets watch our movies.”

Carlos didn’t object as he started the first movie and they both settled in.

POV Switch

It didn’t take long before Carlos had to speak up about the campiness of the film. Not five minutes into the movie and almost everything that made up the film showed how low budget it was.

“Are you really going to make…”

“Shhh”

He lowered his voice instead. “Do you have to make me suffer through this?” He narrowly dodged a piece of popcorn that Jill had thrown at him. “You can’t tell me this gets any better as the movie goes on?”

“It does.” He glanced over at her and was surprised to see her focused expression as she watched the movie. He couldn’t help but admire how the light from the movie highlighted her features; her nose, jawline, the way a single hair fell across her face that he had to stop himself from pushing back behind her ear. But as he continued to glance at her here and there, an idea came into his head.

They weren’t too far into the movie before things started to get creepy, though Carlos tried to not let it get to him. He glanced back at Jill, saw that she was still engrossed in the movie while eating popcorn, and made his move

He mumbled something about needing to get up, but Jill was too engrossed in the movie and waved a hand at him in response. Getting up, he made his way out into the hallway, before sneakily making his way back into the living room. The couch was too big for him to see Jill but he figured she was still in the exact same position as before.

Walking as quietly as he could, Carlos made his way over to where she sat. The movie was finally picking up, with the music setting the perfect atmosphere for him to make his move.

“Boo!”

Jill let out a small scream as she nearly knocked over the popcorn bowl that she held in her lap. They both reached for the bowl to make sure she didn’t spill everywhere but this also put him in line of sight for Jill to see that it was him who scared her. Once they had settled the popcorn, she gave him the meanest glare he had ever seen.

“Good god Carlos!” The look on her face only made him laugh harder, which seemed to annoy her even more. “Don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Carlos continued to laugh, “But the look on your face was worth it.”

Jill shoved him playfully and eventually gave him a smile. “Do that again and I will kill you. Or get back at you even worse. Don’t tempt me.”

“Ha, I’m sure you could if you set your mind to it.” Carlos went to settle back on the couch, one leg on the table in front of him and another arm out along the top of the couch.

“Good,” she gave him one more look before turning back to the movie, “And don’t you forget it.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

They sat there in silence for the rest of the movie. Jill was as enraptured as ever and even Carlos found himself being drawn into the movie. The campiness didn’t take away from the scariness that was Evil Dead. He was enjoying watching Ash start to slip into insanity at whatever entities were taking over his friends. There was a time or two he had to look away from the movie.

He felt the couch shift next to him and was surprised to see that Jill had made her way from the other side of the couch. He was more surprised when she sat close enough to him that he could have lowered his arm around her shoulder. But he didn’t. No, he would be good. For the rest of the film they sat that way, almost touching but too transfixed in the movie to notice.

Once the movie ended, Jill turned to him. “So what did you think?”

He thought about it for a minute, but decided to have some fun with her when he saw her staring at him intently. After a few seconds of hemming and hawing and a very loud sigh from Jill, he answered her.

“It was decent.”

“Decent?” She raised a single eyebrow at him. “I saw you look away a few times at some scenes. So you can’t tell me it was just ‘decent’

“Alright,” He threw his hands up in a sign of surrender, laughing at how heated Jill was getting about the movie. “It had its moments and I can see why it's a cult classic. But can we watch the other movie now?”

They sat in silence for a moment, neither backing down as Carlos continued to chuckle and Jill stared at him with a raised eyebrow. Carlos started to fear he had gone too far, but Jill seemed to deflate and settled back into the couch right next to him.

“Yes, yes. Put it on.” She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m expecting it to be good.”

“Heh, I certainly hope so. I need a good scare after the last movie.” He smiled at himself at the glare he imagined Jill gave him.

“Me too,” was all she said in response.

It didn’t take long after the movie started for Carlos to see what Tyrell meant about the movie being scary. He even found himself at some points wondering what would happen next after the book was read. But when he felt a shift in the couch next to him and a slight touch on his arm, he nearly jumped out of his seat.

“You ok scaredy cat?”

Lifting his arm up, he saw that Jill was the source of what had scared him. She had curled right next to him, her knees pulled up to her chin and then covered herself with one of their blankets. She continued to give him a sour look, but he could see the corners of lips fighting to curl up into a smile.

“I could ask you the same question.” He gave her a big smile. “Doesn’t look like I’m the only one…”

“Shh!” She brought one hand from out under the blanket and pointed at the screen. “Play the movie. It was just getting good.”

“Yes, mam.” He chuckled as he reached forward to start the movie again. But when he wanted to settle back down next to Jill, his arm hovered over her body next to his. He let himself weigh the risks for only a few seconds - she might get very mad - and decided it wasn’t worth giving it a second thought.

Without any ceremony, Carlos rested his arm around Jill. He tensed slightly when he felt her shift against him, fearing that she would start yelling at him for getting too comfortable with her. But when she didn't pull away and instead settled against him, he let his arm drape around her.

He sat there with his arm around her, eyes glued to the screen but not registering anything that was happening. His brain was too focused on her warmth and the way she fit perfectly next to him. It felt...right.

Jill suddenly jumped against him at something that happened on the screen, breaking his train of thought. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms protectively around her. as he remembered they were watching a movie together. Finally focusing on what happened showed that the movie was starting to pick up with whatever was happening in the story.

Focus man.

And he did. Jill wasn’t pulling away from him and he wasn’t going to let thoughts make him second guess what was happening.

When he finally caught on to what was happening in the movie, Carlos found himself surprised at how good it was. There were a few moments he found himself jumping or having to look away at certain scenes. Before long he became enraptured by the film and didn't realize that even he had curled up on the couch next to Jill. His arms were wrapped tightly around her as the story unfold.

It wasn’t until the movie finally ended that the two of them realized how tightly they were holding onto each other. He didn’t realize how close they were until, turning to look at Jill, he found her looking back at him, their noses almost touching.

“Hey.” Her breath kissed his face as she spoke, her eyes never leaving his.

“Hey back at you.” He kept his eyes trained on hers, not daring to look anywhere else. They stayed like this a moment longer, Carlos’s arms wrapped around her while her fingers curled into his shirt.

“Guess the movie was pretty scary after all.” She started to shift away from him and Carlos immediately let her go, missing the warmth of her body against his. “Here’s to a few sleepless nights after that.” She let out an airy laugh as she got up from the couch.

“You can always stay with me if you need to.” He said it as a joke but inside it was only a half lie. He wouldn’t say no to her if she needed that support from him.

Jill rolled her eyes but from her smile, Carlos knew she took it as a joke. “Don’t expect me to come running to you just because of some nightmare. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.”

With that, they set about cleaning up the apartment. Both of them were yawning at that point, too tired to properly clean, though Jill was trying.

Carlos let out a soft chuckle as once again he had to steer Jill towards her room. “Go to sleep. We can clean tomorrow.”

“But we shouldn’t let it sit there,” another yawn escaped her lips as she rubbed her eyes.

“It’s only for a bit and then you can clean to your heart's content.” He felt her try to fight him as he continued to move her towards the hallway. “Seriously Jill, don’t need you falling asleep on the kitchen floor because you tried to clean.”

She started to respond but when another yawn came on, she gave him a shrug. “Alright.” This time he didn’t need to push her. “You get some sleep too though. No staying up late this time. I don’t want to be the only one who’s up cleaning while you sleep in super late.”

“Ha, I’ll be up. Don’t you worry.” He gave her a wink as he started to make his way towards his room.

He was almost at the door when he heard Jill call out to him. Turning to face her, he saw that she was halfway into her room. He took in slightly disheveled hair and clothes from sitting on the couch next to him. He watched her stifle another yawn before speaking up. “Yeah?”

“Goodnight. And thanks for the movie. It was pretty good.”

He nodded, too tired to think of any funny comeback but glad all the same that she enjoyed it.

“Goodnight Jill.”

#resident evil #re3 remake #re3 roommate au #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #jill and carlos #valeveira #pre-relationship #fanfiction

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asha-weak · 3 years ago

Text

Switch Wangxian: NSFW

It is beautiful as fuck me supports so i wrote something

NSFW NSFW

Wei Ying moaned, his hand speeding up on his dick, the other one thrusting the dildo in his ass faster and faster.

"Mmf! Fuck fuck aahhh...." He whined, his hips jerking and toes curling from the pleasure. He was so close so fucking close.

Then suddenly,

Knock

Wei Ying stopped. Resisting the urge to scream bloody murder. He knew that if he continued while whoever was outside of his room, he wouldn't be able to keep his voice suppressed.

"Wei Ying."

Came a soft voice. So familiar and so lovely Wei Ying had to stop himself from involuntarily stroking his dick. "Y-Yeah? Lan Zhan? D.. Do you need something?" He winced at how obvious his voice sounded.

"...." Was silence from the other side.

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying tried again.

"....Wei Ying. Is Wei Ying okay?" Lan Zhan unexpectedly asked.

Wei Ying was confused. Did something happen? He didn't cause any trouble today... Yet. Nor did he do anything reckless that could hurt him. So why was Lan Zhan worried for his perfect health?

"...no..." Wei Ying drawled, still puzzled. But maybe there was something in his voice that didn't agree with the situation because the next second Lan Zhan entered his room, closing the door shut behind him.

"L-Lan Zhan??" Wei Ying squeaked, glad that the curtain was down, giving him what little privacy he could have since he had pushed away his blanket earlier he had nothing else to cover himself up with.

He quickly slid his robe on, somehow managing not to jostle the dildo still buried deep in his ass. Just the reminder of it made him want to whimper and rock against it but with Lan Zhan right in front of him he wanted nothing else but to pull it out.

But he couldn't. He knows he would come, and come with a deafning sound, and even if he was somehow able to pull it out without making any sound in his throat, the loud squelch of the oil dripping from his ass would be enough to alert Lan Zhan about what he was doing.

However.

All his worries wiped themselves away as Lan Zhan opened the privacy screen, peaking in, definitely breaking two of the 3000 rules of the Gusu Sect. 'Rude'

Wei Ying gasped, closing his legs to hide whatever he could as he stared up at the second Jade, also staring back at him with his mouth hanging wide open.

"Aha..ha..ha.. Lan Zhan don't you know a fly would enter your mouth if you kept it open for that long?" Wei Ying joked, trying fruitlessly to extract Lan Zhan's mind and eyes away from his disheveled state.

Lan Zhan was speechless, his gaze stuck on Wei Ying. Wei Ying's dilated eyes, Wei Ying's flushed face, flushed shoulders, flushed chest, Wei Ying's sweaty hands, Wei Ying's plump red bitten lips, Wei Ying's heaving abs, Wei Ying's half covered drooling dick, Wei Ying's long legs, Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying.

Lan Zhan's eyes almost rolled back in his head as he practically fell to his knees, staring intently at his dick, his hands itching to open those thighs and choke on that cock.

He wanted to feel the weight of it in his mouth. So Lan Zhan opened his mouth, letting drool collect and drip from the corners of his mouth, hot puffs of air burning against Wei Ying's sensitive thighs.

Wei Ying was flabbergasted, THE second jade was on his knees, face inches away from his dick with his mouth wide open, ready to be fucked.

"L-L-L-L-Lan Zhan!?!?" He yelped. Shifting away to gain some sanity, because Lan Zhan had clearly lost his. But Lan Zhan made a discontent noise before dragging him back to himself, and before the angle hadn't allowed Lan Zhan to see Wei Ying completely but now...

Now the angle was amazing and Lan Zhan could clearly see the dildo stuffed in Wei Ying's ass, his rim stretched red and wet around it. Lan Zhan couldn't stop himself even if he tried. He whined and licked a broad strip from Wei Ying's full hole all the way to the tip of his dick.

Wei Ying keened and smashed his fist against the wall, legs kicking and hips jerking uncontrollably. "Lan Zhan!" He wailed, fisting his hands in his hair when Lan Zhan swallowed in his cock all at once, his beautiful, small mouth so tight around Wei Ying, he almost cried.

Lan Zhan moved his head at a ridiculous pace, tongue continuously swirling around his tip and occasionally sucking and contracting his throat, making it tighter than it was. Wei Ying was still high and sensitive from his previous ruined orgasm so it didn't take long for him to cum.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan... I'm- I'm- I gonn.... Gunna cummmm!" Wei Ying's words broke off in a wail and he grabbed Lan Zhan's head, stilling him and face fucking him. Lan Zhan and Wei Ying both twitched, trembling as Lan Zhan squeezed around his dick, swallowing every drop of cum his dick spurted.

"Lan Zhan- ! Nhaaa... Take it out take it out I can't-!" Wei Ying moaned, oversensitive and writhing as the dildo kept pressing against his prostate. Lan Zhan hurriedly but gently coaxed the double ended dildo from Wei Ying's still quivering hole clinging to it.

Lan Zhan mewled as he slid off of Wei Ying's cock, gaze still fixated on it as he licked his lips, shoving his fingers into his own mouth and thrusting in a vain attempt to mirror the same overwhelming feeling he had just experienced. His clean hand roamed down his own body, feeling up his nipples and caressing his stomach before palming his dick through multiple layers of cloth.

Wei Ying still twitching and heaving simply stared at the erotic scene in front of him, laying limp in his bed. His throat felt parched from all the moaning he had done and he had no desire to use it for a while. But he decided to throw that intention away when Lan Zhan started stripping.

"Wei Ying..." He groaned, his own voice fucked out and hoarse. Lan Zhan moaned when he finally had gotten rid of his endless robes, immediately wrapping a hand around his dick and stroking harshly.

Wei Ying gulped, "Lan Zhan. Come 'ere." Thankfully Lan Zhan obeyed at once and climbed onto Wei Ying's chest, his hand leaving his dick and pressing against the bed for balance. Wei Ying groaned and while whining, "Sit on my face, Lan Zhan, please."

Lan Zhan was surprised and was unable to keep his whine to himself. He did as told and hovered above Wei Ying's face. Wei Ying, grabbed his thighs and brought him down, closer to his mouth, Lan Zhan's precum smothering his forehead but Wei Ying didn't care. He licked at the small pink rim, looking as if it had never been touched before.

Lan Zhan whimpered at the first taste of his hole, clenching and unclenching and moaned loudly when Wei Ying slurped at his rim. Soon his hole was wet and ready, precum soaking Wei Ying's hair completely, so without wasting any further time Wei Ying plunged his tongue into the ready hole.

Lan Zhan's eyes shot open and he grabbed uselessly on the wall, nails leaving scratches in the wood, "Wei Ying Oh!" he cried. Wei Ying did it again and Lan Zhan started meeting his tongue's movements, grinding down on his face, "Mmmm... mmnn mm ahhh...." Lan Zhan kept whimpering.

Wei Ying closed his own thighs, feeling his dick harden slowly, he wanted to touch his cock but he also didn't want to stop touching Lan Zhan's skin, he whined and sped up his pace, already restless for his second release.

Then Wei Ying thrusted his tongue as deep as he could and sucked Lan Zhan's hole at the same time, and Lan Zhan was forcefully thrown off the edge. He cried out and slammed his thighs shut against Wei Ying's head, grinding like a madman onto Wei Ying's tongue.

Wei Ying moaned, if he were to accidentally die right here between Lan Zhan's strong thighs bracketing his face, he wouldn't mind at all, he would thank whatever entity that exists to give him this unrealistic view as his last memory.

He didn't realise he had floated away until he blinked open his eyes and Lan Zhan was lying next to him, "Wei Ying...?" Even if Lan Zhan spoke less words, Wei Ying understood what he meant, 'Are you okay? Do you want to rest? Do you want to continue? Do you want me to bring you anything?'

Wei Ying smiled tenderly and croaked out, "Water please." to which Lan Zhan immediately stood up fetched him some water, waiting for him to sit up and handed it to him. Wei Ying drank slowly, "Uh... Uhmm...how long was I gone?"

"3 minutes." Lan Zhan replied, and then he looked down. Wei Ying followed his gaze and blushed terribly, Wei Ying was hard. "U-um... T-this.." he started but shut up when Lan Zhan shifted closer to him, showing off his own stiff shaft. They were both the same size more or less, Wei Ying noted.

Wei Ying was left stupified when Lan Zhan started rocking against him, rubbing both their cocks together and it was no where near satisfying. But still, it made Wei Ying whimper and clutch at the sheets, "L-Lan Zhan..." He mewed.

"I washed it." Lan Zhan's monotonous voice pulled Wei Ying out of his head, "W-what..?" He questioned, need growing in his stomach as Lan Zhan simuntaneously kept grinding them together. "The phallus." He answered.

"Oh.. thanks.. thanks Lan Zhan you didn't have to do that." Wei Ying was perplexed as to why Lan Zhan was bringing up his double ended dildo, was he going to punish him for not abiding by the rules? He got worried when Lan Zhan shook his head, light breaths coming out of him.

"I... I want to use it. Wei Ying." Lan Zhan spoke softly, Wei Ying could see the tips of his ears were deep red and cooed, but he stopped himself when the words settled properly into his muddled brain.

Lan Zhan wants to use MY dildo????

The image of Lan Zhan pushing the dildo in and out of himself while lying on his chest didn't take long to form in his hormonal brain. Wei Ying whined in agreement, "Y-Yeah Lan Zhan... You can you can use it, as much as you want....." It was harder to think anything other than fucking and being fucked by the drop dead gorgeous boy next to him.

Wei Ying sat up properly and sat on top of Lan Zhan's thighs, "I'll prepare you alright..? I'll make it good..." He whispered before leaning down to kiss Lan Zhan gently, which turned into a deep sloppy kiss and they licked and slurped at each other's tongues, pressing their open mouths together and nog wanting to let go, moaning and whining into each other's lips.

Wei Ying had unknowingly started rutting against Lan Zhan and they both broke off at the same time to throw their heads back as their cocks pressed together at an especially pleasuring angle. "Wei Ying hurry-!" Lan Zhan gasped, hands grasping Wei Ying's hips to move him.

Wei Ying nodded, "Yesyesyesyesyes-" murmuring whilst he got off Lan Zhan and went to bring his lubricant since the one he used just before had finished. When he returned Lan Zhan was lying face down ass up ready and wanting.

Wei Ying moaned at the display and climbed into his bed, settling directly behind Lan Zhan, he spread Lan Zhan's asscheeks to reveal the twitching pink hole still glisning from the remanents of his saliva and spit directly on it. Lan Zhan gave an appreciative groan and moved his ass further up telling Wei Ying to just Hurry Up.

Wei Ying drenched his fingers in the lube and warmed it up before pressing those fingers against his rim. He pressed a bit harder with the index finger till it popped in making Lan Zhan moan. Wei Ying bit his lip at the sound and at the sensations on his finger as he slid it all the way in.

Lan Zhan shuddered and sighed, wordlessly letting Wei Ying prepare him. Wei Ying thrusted his finger a few times more till he deemed his hole loose enough to fit another one. "Lan Zhan I'm gonna put another. Alright?" He cautioned and waited for Lan Zhan's signature Mn. Before continuing. He then inserted another and pushed them all the way up to the knuckles, moving them with an almost embarrassing squelching sound.

He scissored his fingers, sometimes hooking a thumb to help in stretching as well. All the while relishing in the small choked noises Lan Zhan would let out. When Lan Zhan was looser he stopped thrusting for the sake of preparing him and started thrusting to give him the euphoric pleasure Wei Ying loved.

Wei Ying pressed his fingers around, searching for his prostate and smiled when Lan Zhan jerked suddenly, moaning, he could see his fists clenched in the pillows trying to understand what had just happened to his body. But Wei Ying without any mercy started finger fucking him, making Lan Zhan whine and moan.

He added a third finger and then a fourth watching at how far his hole stretched and felt his own hole ask for attention. 'Later' he thought to himself and continued fucking Lan Zhan, the one under him crying out of sheer pleasure. Be continued till he grabbed his wrist and pulled his fingers out of himself.

Lan Zhan dropped on the bed, panting and trembling, then flipped himself into his back. He took some time to sit up, "Wei Ying lie on your back." He demanded which Wei Ying complied with. He spread his legs as an invitation a let Lan Zhan sit between them, heart beating faster when he sees Lan Zhan slicking up his fingers and shoving them into his hole.

Wei Ying's mouth opened in a soundless scream as his back arched. He scratched Lan Zhan's arms and raised his hips, grinding sensually back onto Lan Zhan's fingers, "Oof... Ohh... I'm I'm already ready Lan Zhan you don't need to-" he clenched his jaw as Lan Zhan brushed against his prostate, goosebumps rising all over his body, "That's- that's good that's enough L-Lan Zhan."

Reluctantly Lan Zhan removed his fingers and sat down, having support from the headboard, Wei Ying copied him and sat in a similar position, etching closer till their thighs touched and crossed their legs over each other's. Lan Zhan picked up the double ended dildo and lathered it with the lube, rubbing it while staring straight at Wei Ying.

Wei Ying chuckled and bit his lip meeting his intense gaze with one of his own. When Lan Zhan broke their eye contact to bring the dildo to their holes Wei Ying followed his hand, shifting to give him space. "It will be better if you fuck yourself first, get used to it then I'll resume." Wei Ying suggested and grinned when Lan Zhan nodded, the blush reaching his torso.

Lan Zhan pressed one end of the dildo to his own hole and pushed softly till his rim gave away and sucked the shaft will surprising ease. He choked on a cry, whimpered and pushed it deeper. "W-Wei Ying ahh...." He rubbed against it, griting his teeth when it struck his sweet spot. He let himself get used to it then nodded, his Lan forehead band loosening a bit.

Wei Ying gulped and came closer to him, till the dildo was kissing his rim, he whimpered and pressed closer till it slid in hole like it always had, like it belonged there, and yeah it did. This dildo belonged only in Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Wei Ying moaned, eyes rolling back at the heavenly sensation filling him up.

A few minutes passed and Wei Ying rocked against it, whining, Lan Zhan, assured that they both were ready also responded with his own thrust, his mouth hanging open as drool dripped out. "Wei Ying!" Lan Zhan gasped as a particular shove made him see stars and it was as if a dam had broken that both cultivators started shoving against each other, feeding the dildo into one another's hole.

Wei Ying's eyes shut tight as he melted in the harsh thrusts and moved his hips alongside Lan Zhan's. He felt the other's legs shake and opened his eyes, the beautiful man in front of him crying and sobbing with pleasure. He could dazedly hear his own moans and whines but then he noticed Lan Zhan's loose forehead band and gasped.

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Ying stared at the forehead band about to collapse, "Lan Zhan your forehead band..." He reached out but before he could touch it, Lan Zhan snatched it off and threw it somewhere on the bed. Wei Ying cried out when Lan Zhan slammed against him, twin sobs resonating in the room.

"Fuck fuck fuck Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying screamed, "Mmmmmm!!!" Lan Zhan bit back his own, his hands playing with his nipples. Wei Ying took a hold of Lan Zhan's right hand and deepthroated his fingers exactly like how Lan Zhan had deep throated him earlier. As much as he liked to be loud, he loved his mouth full and sated, and he knew so did Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying guided Lan Zhan's mouth to his own fingers and sighed at the wet feeling. Lan Zhan released a wail when a particular thrust rammed the dildo to his sweet spot again and pinched his own nipple. Wei Ying could feel his limbs tangled with him shaking terribly and pounded both their holes at the same time.

Lan Zhan suddenly bit on fingers hard which made Wei Ying moan out in bewildered pleasure and he stared at him, stared at Lan Zhan as he snapped his head back, bucked his hips once, twice and then came, whimpering the whole time. Wei Ying had only a few seconds of time to look down at Lan Zhan's dick spurting out white strands before Lan Zhan started stroking his dick at a punishing pace.

Wei Ying spit out Lan Zhan's fingers and fell deeper in the stack of pillows and blankets behind him which changed the angle and made the dildo stick relentlessly to his sweet spot, Lan Zhan never stopped jerking him off and Wei Ying could distantly hear Lan Zhan moaning with overstimulation, 'So good taking care of me while he's oversensitive.' Was his last thought before he wailed as his earth shattering orgasm slammed into him.

Lan Zhan whined as Wei Ying's cum hit his torso and mixed with his own. The oversensitivity was taking over so Lan Zhan stopped touching Wei Ying's dick and slid out the dildo from his hole, he shoved it a few times in his own, all the while licking off Wei Ying's cum before sliding it out of himself and falling flat onto his back and fainting.

When Lan Zhan's eyes opened, Wei Ying was lying next to him and he noticed how both of them were still dirty so Wei Ying probably woke up only to plop next to him. Lan Zhan smiled and kissed Wei Ying gently on the lips before falling right back to sleep.

Consequences will be handled later.

#wangxian #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #modaozushi #grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #switch wangxian #Switch Lan Zhan #switch lan wangji #switch wei ying #switch wei wuxian

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gwydionmisha · 3 years ago

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ToS: Season 2 Rewatch: 3.5: Is There in Truth No Beauty?

They are escorting the Medusan ambassador to the Federation home. Humans can't talk to the Medusans face to face as sight of the Medusan driving them insane. Spock must wear a visors, though there is concern about his human half. The Medusan is traveling in a future tech cat carrier apparently with Larry and Miranda. The cat carrier opens. Spock flinches, but gazes on the entity for a while. He tells Miranda, the woman assisting the Ambassador that he envies her assignment. The Assistant tries to touch his mind. She seems to project her envy on Spock. Clue number one. Apparently he telepathy is why he studies on Vulcan. She wishes she could see the Medusan.

They have a dinner party where they discuss Vulcan telepathy and the need to block out other's thoughts. Miranda takes a badge he wore in honor of her as a taunt. Clue number 2. Bones argues that Vulcan is boring and that the Medusans must be evil because they are ugly. Spock keeps gently rebuking McCoy instead of slapping him. Spock is a better man than I. Kirk calls beauty the last prejudice, but then toasts Miranda's beauty. Bones is racist and paternalistic. Miranda rebukes him on the racism. Miranda says she senses someone thinking about murder, but can't say who. She rebuffs Bones' attempt to escort her to her room. Scotty invites the other guy that came with the Medusan to go drinking, but he too turns down the offer. Bones says she's 'disturbing' possibly because she doesn't want to fuck. *side eye*

Larry has a deep crush on Miranda and is losing his shit because she's going to live with the Medusa instead of having sex with him. He kisses her. she is not into it and tells him to leave. She now knows the murdery feelings and envy are from Larry. The Creep. He goes to murder the Medusa out of sexual jealousy, thus seeing the Medusa and going violently mad. He runs around attacking people. Miranda tells the feds about Larry.

Larry the Incel turns up at engineering. Scotty gives him the controls before the announcement of Larry's homicidal insanity comes over. He knocks out Scotty and starts driving the Enterprise dangerously fast. He sends them beyond the galaxy boundaries before they subdue him. He is raving about dreams. Only Miranda can calm him. He thinks about the Medusa, they calls her a liar and tries to kill her, but he dies instead. Everything just stopped.

So now they are lost in space. (Danger Will Robinson). It's a void. they can't recross the barrier in sub-light and the sensory distortion in warp makes navigating impossible. The only solution is a mindlink with the Medusan which Spock suspects Dr. Miranda Jones won't allow. Kirk volunteers to distract her with a date to the arboretum. *side eye* Kirk tries to talk her out of her asexuality. *side eye* She doesn't enjoy other people's violent emotions and finds the Medusans restful. Kirk keeps trying to seduce her anyway, insulting her Medusan friend. Asshole.

Miranda works out what Spock is planning and tries to take his place. he points out she doesn't know how to pilot the ship. Bones points out a blind person can't fly the ship. (He'd been keeping her blindness private because ethics, but he couldn't let her endanger the ship). Her dress contains a sensor web. Kirk works out she hides her blindness to avoid pity. She insists. Kirk says to ask the Medusan, who says no.

Spock mind melds with the Medusan and the two become one. The blend quotes Byron at Uhura and the Tempest at Miranda. They navigate back to entry point, at which point the Medusan waxes poetic about the wonder of being embodied but also the intense loneliness of it. Spock goes to put the entity back in the cat carrier, but forgets his visor. He goes berserk and Kirk has to stun him. Nimoy's performance in this scene is really beautiful, with all the switches back and forth in both personality and emotion.

Miranda is Spock's only hope, via Mind Meld. Kirk gets impatient and finds her in there without her net. Kirk thinks she should wake him with a kiss then accuses her of trying to kill Spock. She goes all the way down, risking them both. Spock recovers. Kirk gives Miranda a rose and she goes off to live with the aliens. She and Spock respect each other now.

The men (except Spock are just really gross in this one.

#ToS #Star Trek

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

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Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts fluff #bts bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #magicshopnet

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sapphic-writing · 3 years ago

Text

A substitute

This is me being productive thank uuuu

Again, writing about my beloved Hawks ! Another Character study but with a little more plot!

Family dinners were a thing Hawks had never attended. So when Inko Midoriya invited him to a dinner with her son in their apartment, it felt personal enough for him to be touched.

With all the things that Izuku had been going through in the last months, Hawks had became a friend to him. After all, he was one of the only people the kid would talk to because of his work obsession, he had reassured the poor mother several times when they met in the hospital and the hero saved the student's ass more than once.

Inko was thankful for all of that and Hawks enjoyed her company. So initially, it was him who invited her and the kid to his favorite restaurant as he always did with people he grew found of. But the offer had been negotiated and twisted by the woman, in such a way that he ended up knocking at their door on a Saturday night at 6:49 pm.

He entered and was struck by how warm the small flat felt. There wasn't much, but he could feel all the love and care that was put into the relationships of the people inhabiting this nest.

The reason it appeared obviously to him was because he was used to the atmosphere of his own house to be oppressing and awkward. Even since he had been left alone, his mother had somehow let those feelings behind her like a sticky mud imbedding every furniture and parquet lick. It wasn't as overwhelming as when it flooded the whole place, letting Keigo in a constant fight for a breath of air, suffocating most of the time, but it was there. He was surprised by how the small home of the Midoriyas seemed deprived of any of this.

He sat down with them and they conversed while eating. Every now and then, Inko thanked him again for the times he had saved her son's life. Hawks would always accept it and say that the kid was a future great hero, it would be a shame to let him die at this age. A statement to which she agreed proud and loud while her son tried to hide the pleasure those flatteries provided him. A feeling of longing emerged in Hawks as he watched the woman compliment her flesh and blood. Squishing his hand when she reminded him of how much she loved him and sometimes blushing, as if she didn't deserve such an amazing kid as her Izuku. It was such a strange thing to see this mother invested in her son's dreams and ambitions.

While Hawks did know it should be a usual thing in a functioning family, being at the first row to witness this made him feel a lump in his throat.

When the student couldn't bare to be the subject of anymore compliments, he switched the conversation to the professional hero in a rather obvious way that none of the two others decided to take notice of.

After a few work anecdotes, the woman came to ask what she should call the hero outside of work.

"I have been going by Hawks for over ten years now." He answered. "But thank you for asking. You must have seen Touya's broadcast too. I really appreciate that you asked despite knowing my name."

"Why do you keep using your hero name in private if your identity is out to the public by now?" Izuku asked. Then he put his chin in his hand and tried to answer his own question before the hero could. "Altho I have to admit that after a decade of never using it, it could feel unfamiliar and strange to you. And just because the public knows about your name's reputation doesn't mean that you would want them to be reminded of it- not that your name defines your value... Or that you really care about your public image, now that I think of it."

While he was trailing off, Inko's face decomposed as she grew more and more horrified of how intrusive her son was being without realizing it. Hawks finished chewing his bite before cutting the boy off.

"Actually, I am in fact used to be called Hawks more than to be called Keigo or Takami. But I also like to think of it as always being working. I wake up and go to bed Hawks. I am myself as a hero and therefore I don't need a personal life next to it."

The boy nodded thoughtfully while the mother thanked him for sharing this with them and apologized for her son's comportment. Realizing only now what he had done, Izuku was quick to apologize with even more embarrassment than his mother if it was possible and it took Hawks a few minutes to seemingly convince them they had done no harm.

Once both the mother and son calmed down, Inko found the courage to start a new subject of conversation.

"About you always working. While I understand the necessity of it, is it something that all heroes are doing?" She said looking down at her plate.

Before Hawks could say anything, Izuku grabbed his mother's harm in a comforting way. "I will choose what kind of hero I am. And I know I don't want to be one without you. I have already tried cutting people out. I am never doing that again, I promise."

Inko gripped her son's arm back, tears growing in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Izuku. I just got scared for you again for an instant." The boy comforted her with a few words and she swallowed her tears to apologize to their guest.

"I'm sorry you saw this. I invited you to have a good time, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"There's no problem." The man answered in a detached way. But his stomach now felt heavy and he wasn't hungry, so he grabbed his cup to drink instead.

It wasn't because he thought Inko made a scene or that he was uncomfortable with feelings in general. But the worry of the woman for her son had him wondering for a second if she would ever reveal personal informations about him if she was threatened. And the answer imposed itself to the man, she would never. And she would most definitely not then leave with only a note waiting in an empty hoise for her injured son coming back from a stay at the hospital after a war.

Thoughts about his mother creeped into Hawks' mind. Mostly questions, since she had left without any indication of where she was going.

Witnessing Inko's dedication to her child triggered some instincts in Hawks that were urging him to run to his own mother in the search of comfort. Hut despite this natural reflex, his brain couldn't picture such a scene. Not with the detached and clueless woman that was Tomie Takami. Not with the unnatural relationship they had. Actually, he knew that she would be the one to one day desperately come back to him when she will have spent all the money she took with her.

He carried the conversation with the Midorias for a while. Staying in their home this night was as if a sadistic entity was mockingly shaking a toy in front of a child who would never be able to even imagine the joy of holding it in their hands. So he finally declared he was leaving, sooner than he probably would have otherwise. He thanked the attentionate family and went for a fly outside. For a while, he had no clue of where he was going. After a while of wandering in his immense city, he found himself drawn back to his favorite restaurant. He stared at the closed place from a higher building. Lost in his thoughts and faced by the mediocrity of the comfort this place brought to him.

Was the title too subtle about the restaurant vs family dinner being a parallel of how Hawks finds substitute for his non existent childhood and family in things that aren't personal?

#hawks one shot #mha hawks #my hero academia hawks #wing hero hawks #character study #one shot #mha writing #mha oneshot #writing #izuku mydoria #inko midoriya

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cherryalt · 3 years ago

Photo

Mark Raidpere, Shifting Focus (2005)

A table, a couple of chairs, an old-fashioned clock on the wall. It’s two minutes to eleven. A man fiddles with a video camera, removes the floral tablecloth, switches the camera to night vision and then back to normal. He sits and looks at the camera, resting his head on the table as though he is tired, teasing someone or checking poses as a stand-in for actors soon to join the set for a shoot. Then (cut) he’s on the other side of the table, then (cut) directly in front of the camera, adjusting strands of his hair in the mirroring lens. On the clock behind him we read that 12 minutes have passed, but we’re only 30 seconds into Mark Raidpere’s Shifting Focus (2005) and the tension is mounting.

A woman – the artist’s mother – enters and sits down. The clock on the wall has vanished; only the nail it hung on is left. The man (Raidpere) sits down. He has changed his red pullover for a dress shirt, (cut) then a dark long-sleeve shirt. Suddenly the image is black and white. The display window is shrinking (as though gradually changing from a television format to widescreen cinema), has a black frame around it, before the image rests on a shot of the mother facing her son across an empty table. Gently smiling, she finally says: ‘Well, tell me about it.’

Raidpere sobs, begins to talk and abruptly stops. Sobs again. Hides his face behind his hands. Endless minutes seem to pass. The mother remains almost unbearably calm and patient (why doesn’t she get up and shake him, or give him a hug?). ‘I’m afraid’, he says, ‘I don’t know what to say first, what later.’ The mother replies (they speak Estonian, subtitled in English): ‘Don’t torture yourself like this, just say what you want to say.’ By now it seems obvious that the son is struggling to confess to his mother that he is gay, but we soon discover that’s not the case. About eight minutes into the video (an ashtray has appeared, and Raidpere is smoking), he says: ‘I’m having a hard time right now. This Venice show, it’s more like a nightmare than a delight.’ Finally it’s out. The artist is having panic attacks in the run-up to his solo presentation at the Estonian Pavilion in Venice in 2005 (which is where this piece was shown for the first time). ‘Well, you’ve got time’, the mother says. ‘Loads of time. Months.’

Dramatic tension builds and is suddenly deflated – anxiety is resolved by its articulation (the completion of the piece); but why should we be bothered about the artist’s psychodramas and his family life? Some argue that it is only through an unflinching confrontation with the artist’s ingrained fears and desires, often connected to the circumstances of their upbringing, that great work can be created (hence, especially in film and literature, the ongoing proliferation of family dramas and memoirs). Conversely, others argue that such an approach inevitably produces kitsch, as the artist gets caught up in the age-old cliché of the artistic soul expressing itself, while falling back onto what the mass media – from afternoon chat shows to YouTube – do much better anyway, which is catering to the voyeurism of audiences hungry for confessions. Such an argument is supported by a tradition of critical theory: mid-20th-century New Criticism, which proposed to put the text – as opposed to biography or the author’s intention – centre-stage, and post-1960s’ Post-Structuralism and Deconstruction, which declared the text itself to be a fundamentally indeterminable entity. Simply put, you could say that the text (and analogously, the art work) was emancipated from the person who produced it and then from itself: its meaning was determined by its audience, while the audience in turn was also determined by its perceptions of the text or art work. In other words, authority moved from the author through the text/work to the reader – from where it bounced back into ambiguity.

But whether or not the text or art work is in some way unified by the ‘voice’ of its producer, a fundamental (and common) misunderstanding is to take critical theories of how a work can be perceived as normative prescriptions of how it should be produced. Even if you believe that art takes on a life of its own in the realm of its reception, this in no way implies that biography and subjectivity are taboo subjects to explore. Rather, it is often when this happens that the excitement starts: biography and subjectivity collide head-on with the indeterminacies of production, the formal questions of physical, technical and social process – all of which brings us back to Shifting Focus. The piece made me expect a coming-out because it sends out signals that I associate with previous readings of coming-out as a cultural trope. Yet while frustrating this one expectation, it offers relief: the confession that first seemed to block the way of the production of a work – the anxiety about creating work for the exhibition in Venice – turns out to be integral to its creation. In this respect, Shifting Focus recalls Christian Jankowski’s videos Kunstwerk verzweifelt gesucht (Desperately seeking the art work, 1997) and Telemistica (1999). The former involved the artist having therapy in order to overcome a block; he had failed to come up with an idea for a contribution to a group show, which, according to the therapist, was because the curator was too much like his mother (of course, the video turned out to be that contribution). Telemistica was devised for the Venice Biennale in 1999, at which the artist asked five fortune-tellers on Italian television if his idea for an art work was sufficient and original – without letting any of them know that the very idea was to call them up. With Raidpere, however, this idea of the work as self-fulfilling prophecy is given yet another twist, as we can’t be sure that the clever trick of turning failure into achievement isn’t itself just a ‘set-up’, a red herring in order actually to allow another level of meaning to return with a vengeance: what if Raidpere really did want to confess something very intimate or serious and created the art work as an easy way out? We can never know – which is the point; a shifting focus indeed. The artist’s mother functions as a catalyst, as an exemplary ‘reader’ of, and participant in, her son’s performance – performance both in the sense of an emotional scene, a ‘speech act’ being staged in order to generate a communicative effect, and in the sense of art being made.

video: https://digikogu.ekm.ee/eng/virtuaalnaitus?ex_id=6&cat_id=17&item_id=524

text: https://www.frieze.com/article/close-and-personal

#art #expectation

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prophxtslash · 5 years ago

Text

April Event: Danny Johnson | The Ghostface Edition!

Back to the Blue

Pairing: Danny Johnson x Reader

Word Count: 1367

Theme: Angst

Warnings: Dwight gets bullied to shit. So does the reader a bit :/

This is actually chapter one of a fic I’m writing so 😳 pretty much GFace and the Reader knew each other before comin to the realms.

The snow crunches under his feet as he slinks around the lodge, his face hidden behind the ever screaming mask, its pale surface a stark contrast against the darkness of the wood. The flames in the center of the room do nothing to help either, as its light casts dramatic, looming shadows around the lodge, emphasizing on the frigidity and loneliness the walls hold. Most of the furniture is torn and tossed to the side,dried blood caked on top of the cushions. Even with the disarray of the main hall, the building serves as a base of sorts, for both killer and survivor during these trials; outside of them, it serves as a rally point, despite the claim that the Legion holds over it. The more friendly killers have been known to make their ways towards the Lodge, desperate for any semblance of company in between trials.

As for the survivors, many have died within this building, and many more will continue to do so.

The Ghostface crouches, leaning from behind the cover of the ledge as he observes the survivor hastily repairing the gen, his back to the stalker as he continues to work, muttering quietly under his breath. The Ghostface holds back a chuckle, flexing his fingers around the handle of his knife as he maintains his position. ‘A few more moments,’ he thinks to himself, ‘it’s about being patient.’ The boy secures the last wire into place, the generator whirring to life as he stands, a satisfied grin creeping onto his face.

The Ghostface grins as well.

A terrified scream tears from the survivor’s throat as Ghostface lunges, tearing the back of the boy’s shirt open. Stumbling, the boy falls, knocking his face onto the concrete below, a tooth cracking in the process. The Ghostface takes ahold of the opportunity, stabbing his buck knife directly into the survivor’s back, a stream of blood spraying onto his hands. The boy sobs, attempting to crawl away.

“Where do you think you’re going, Dwighty?” He chuckles, stomping onto Dwight’s back, forcing the survivor back onto his stomach. Dwight merely groans in response, already dizzy from the blood loss as well the slight concussion from earlier. The Ghostface’s grin only widens as he falls to his knees, straddling Dwight’s back. In a fluid motion, he stabs the knife back into the boy’s back repeatedly, Dwight’s screams echoing in the lodge. Satisfied with the damage, he raises Dwight’s head and adjusts the camera into position.

“Say cheese!”

Dwight’s only response is a dripping mouthful of blood, the crimson pooling onto the floor. The Ghostface releases his hold on Dwight, ignoring the crack that comes from the boy’s head. He open’s the camera’s gallery and selects his most recent masterpiece. The Ghostface nods, satisfied with the picture. He rises to his feet, giving Dwight's corpse an extra kick for good measure.

“That’s what you get for not saying cheese...spoilsport.”

A bang sounds off in the distance, drawing the Ghostface’s attention immediately. He chuckles, dark and low, crouching as he exits the lodge, heading towards the source of the disturbance. The shadows help hide him as he makes his way over, his coat’s tendrils flowing behind him like wings. He hears the generator being worked on and gets into position, ducking behind a nearby boulder. He peeks from the side, focusing his attention onto the two survivors working away.

“--’s not your fault. You’re still new, so we can’t expect you to immediately get it. You’ll get better.” Ash says, completely unaware of the killer’s presence. The Ghostface bites back a smile as he tries to get a better look at the other survivor. Realizing that they were on the other side, he falls back behind the boulder, locking his gaze onto Ash’s back, building up the adrenaline to down him instantly.

“Still. Thank you for helping me. I wish we could have helped Dwight. Are you sure there’s nothing we could’ve done?”

The Ghostface pauses a moment, his eyebrows furrowed behind the mask. Ash’s response falls deaf on his ears as he leans back a little, perplexed. Why is he hesitating? Who is this new survivor and why do they sound so familiar?

The generator lights up and the Ghostface snaps out of it, choosing now to strike. He springs from the shadows and leaps onto Ash, pushing him to the snow, raising the knife.

“Run, kid!” Ash yells, stopping the Ghostface’s hand for a moment, just enough to let the other escape. The Ghostface pushes harder against the man, the knife scraping the edge of his throat. He’s about to break through, about to end it here when a thunk rings out, close enough for him to turn his attention towards it.

No.

The new survivor stares at him, mouth agape in horror as they stumble backwards, away from the vault they had clumsily swung over. The knife comes to his side as the Ghostface stares back, a terrified expression hidden beneath the mask.

Ash scrambles out from under the Ghostface, shouting something at the other survivor before disappearing into the lodge. Both killer and survivor stare at one another for a moment longer, and Ghostface takes a step forward towards them, only for him to freeze when his name leaves their lips.

“Danny?”

Danny shudders, a tremor shooting along his spine as he lowers his head, forcing his gaze downwards, avoiding their face, and most importantly, their eyes. The simple whisper of his real name has him breathless and for the most fleeting of moments, the Ghostface is human.

The shrill siren of the final generator being finished rings out and the Ghostface returns, snapping his head up only to find the clearing empty, the scratch marks of the survivor beginning to seep into the snow. Cursing under his breath, he crouches, stalking towards the nearest gate, a dangerous tilt to his movements. Despite the cold being practically nonexistent here, thanks to the Entity, he can’t help but shiver.

Jane releases the switch, the gate groaning as it opens. She ushers Ash in front of her, with the other survivor flanking the end. Ash crosses the threshold, the fog swirling around him as Jane follows, disappearing into the darkness. Lastly, the survivor hesitates, glancing over their shoulder, as if waiting for one final confrontation.

The Ghostface laughs bitterly. “Idiot.”

He leaps onto them, ignoring the way his heart clenches at their scream, and he stabs the knife into their shoulder. They sob and clutch at the weapon lodged into them, a string of incoherent words flowing from their mouth. The Ghostface digs the knife in further, a horrific wail echoing the walls of the gate. As if satisfied with the amount of damage dealt, he tears the weapon from the wound, earning a garbled groan in response. They blink tears away as they squint up at their assailant, a look of pity crossing their face.

“Danny--”

The same tremor shoots up his spine and furious, the Ghostface yanks their head up, slightly wincing at the pained whine they emit. With a snarl, he presses the knife against their throat, reveling in the way their breath hitches, a terrified tilt to it. The scene is all too familiar, all too intimate.

The two remain in this position for a moment, almost unaware of the world around them, as if they have returned to the sleepy town they had grown up in. If Danny thought hard enough, he could almost smell the shampoo they were fond of using. He wonders if they’re thinking the same; he wonders if they see Danny rather than the Ghostface.

A crack resonates and the entity’s tendrils shoot up from the ground, impaling them, an anguished cry tearing from them. They sob the Ghostface’s name, begging for comfort, for anything before they’re silenced, the Entity dragging their lifeless corpse down below, leaving the Ghostface alone. He stares at the space where they had been moments before, flexing his fingers along his side. He’s almost relieved that the Entity had come when it did; he knows that eventually, he would have let them go.

The fog creeps in, and the Ghostface closes his eyes.

#danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #dbd ghostface #dbd writing #aprildanny #prophet writes #anyways

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chrismerle · 4 years ago

Text

what’s up i spent way too long typing up a post about my thoughts on P5S, and it isn’t even all encompassing. i guess if you’re curious about anything i didn’t mention in this trainwreck just ask.

my spoiler-heavy thoughts/pseudo-review below the cut

THINGS I LIKED:

The characterization, broadly speaking. If you, like me, loved the Thieves in P5/P5R then you’ll be pretty happy with them here. There are a couple moments that made me roll my eyes (lookin’ at you, hot springs) but on the whole, the main cast are unchanged.

The new characters. Sophia and Zenkichi are great. Sophia is precious and Zenkichi straddles a very fine line of ‘realistically out of the loop, but gives as good as he gets.’ I don’t even care how silly their costumes were. Sophie looked like the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man, though I did like her little emoticon visor, but also she had no pants. Wolf’s mask was badass but the fact that his stupid pointy hat was riveted to the top of his stupid disco high collar killed it and I wanted to see someone grab his hat and pull it back to see it fling back into place like a drinky-drinky bird. Even so, the characters were great, and when I noticed that all the attacks for Sophie’s initial pseudo-Persona had question marks after them (Kouga? Dia?), it made me laugh, and Wolf’s a good all-purpose party member because he hits like a fucking truck and nothing is immune to Almighty. Plus in some of his post-battle dialogue he calls them all ‘kiddos’ and they consistently call him Gramps.

The gameplay. I mean, yeah, it’s VERY different than P5, but you all know that. And hey! The game no longer immediately ends if Joker gets knocked out (unless he’s the only one left in the party, obviously). It ran pretty smoothly, there’s something weirdly charming about the other Thieves showing up perched on cover points, and the only consistent issue I ran into is that in segments where the camera gets forced into a certain angle, it can switch back so abruptly at the end that you accidentally go walking right off a ledge.

I’ve never really played a Dynasty Warriors-type game before, so it took me a Jail or so to get used to it, but then I was just cackling as I mowed down swarms of Jack Frosts like a weed-whacker in a flower field with a knife the size of Joker’s torso. Honestly, it took me the longest to get used to the fact that the circle button became the all-purpose ‘interact’ button than anything else.

Actually, that’s a lie. It took me the longest to get used to the fact that if I left a Jail, I wouldn’t be losing any time. I’m very used to Persona games having the calendar constantly counting down, which wasn’t the case here.

The story, broadly speaking. It had some hiccups and some issues, which I’ll get into, but for the most part, it was fun. I’m...not going to outline every detail of the story here, but it felt very P5-y and I enjoyed it.

THINGS I LIKED BUT THAT NEEDED WORK:

The writing. It was a little inconsistent, beyond just the usual weirdness that I have accepted comes along with Persona games. (//patiently clicks through numerous conversations of the gang going ‘did this super obvious thing that this memory threw in our faces happen? Let’s debate about whether the most likely answer by a huge margin is the answer’ and several conversations of ‘are we sure this person is bad? We saw them playing nice, like literally every other villain we’ve faced’) A lot was great! Like, the bit with the Okinawa locals breaking into the RV while the kids hide in the bushes? Genuinely unsettling! Akane’s Jail and the fake Thieves was fun, and seeing Zenkichi scuttle from hiding place to hiding place without Thief powers was funny, and his Shadow’s glowing eyes watching him before becoming his Persona was both badass and unsettling. The realization that EMMA was actively lying to Konoe was nice. Character interactions were great and I loved that Sophia went with Ichinose at the end. There was a lot that was good. But there were also a lot of missteps.

Like, it kind of felt like the direction for the writing changed partway through. It started out as if each member of the Phantom Thieves was going to get their own time to shine, identifying and empathizing with a Monarch. Ann realized she could have been Alice. Yusuke realized he could have been Ango and also saw redeeming him as sort of like redeeming Madarame by proxy. Mariko was a link to Haru’s childhood and her father. The ghost Jail on Okinawa lured Sophie in and by the end she realized how much she meant to her friends ryuji said fuck. Akane was Zenkichi’s literal daughter. And then it went to Konoe and then EMMA, so Ryuji, Futaba, Morgana, Makoto, and Joker didn’t get a chance to shine in that regard. The switch from ‘a Jail for everyone to identify with’ to ‘whelp here’s the decoy and the end boss’ felt like they came from two separate drafts of the script, and it’s not like they had to watch the time; I got through P5S in about a third the time it took me to get through P5R. It took me about 35 hours. Considering the game kind of relies on you having played P5, they already knew their target audience has a longer attention span than that.

Owada was talked up as kind of a big deal, but he had like two scenes on-screen and otherwise was an entirely off-screen character. There’s a lot of mid-combat dialogue that is very difficult to focus on, which was sort of annoying when some of it was actually relevant. Ichinose’s reveal as a villain is very info-dump-y.

Plus, Joker wasn’t utilized particularly well as a silent protagonist. He’s got more implied personality than basically any other Persona protag. Which means he’s actually pretty expressive throughout the game, but I can probably count his lines of dialogue outside of combat with fingers left over. No one expects Yu Narukami to actually react to anything, so it doesn’t feel odd when he doesn’t. But the combination of Joker being reasonably expressive and having a demonstrated personality means you’re perpetually EXPECTING and WANTING him to say something about the shit going on, and when he doesn’t it feels like mentally missing a stair.

THINGS THAT I DIDN’T LIKE:

The cut corners. Like, a lot of things just seem lazy. There were scenes that really should have been included that weren’t, like how the Thieves escaped from the hotel after the police showed up; it cut from Zenkichi warning them and getting arrested to them arriving at the temporary hideout, so we never even got to see how the Thieves reacted to realizing the cops were outside. Requests to bond with the other Thieves only got a couple of text boxes, when they could have shown a tiny scene of them hanging out like they had all over P5. Rather than having Sae actually on-screen for her brief scene, the camera instead very unnaturally switched to an angle as if it was from her point of view, which was literally the only time the camera did that in the entire game. All of the Sentries look the same from Jail to Jail, instead of being unique to each Jail. Igor is completely absent for the entire game, and other than a throwaway ‘my master can’t be here’ from Lavenza it’s just not really acknowledged.

The missed opportunities. Like, there is no way to look at this except to assume that Joker was a horrible friend to literally everyone in this world state. Like, I can pass off the fact that everyone has their baseline Personae as being because they haven’t had access to their powers for a while, but when you combine it with the fact that NONE of Joker’s other confidants show up or even know he’s back in Tokyo, it leaves little to assume except that in this world, no confidants got maxed out. On top of that, the Personae are all basically pointless. They could be Pokemon or Stands or Digimon or fucking YuGiOh cards, and it wouldn’t make a difference; NOTHING about the game says ‘these entities are integral to this world and important to these characters.’ Also they could have had Akane actually realize who the Thieves were and it would have been hysterical, but that’s just my personal sulk.

The Requests. I liked the Mementos missions in P5/P5R. They felt like they had a point. Requests in P5S are all basically just fetch quests. ‘Go to Location A, fight so many of Enemy B to get so many of Item C. Turn in Request.’ Hell, one of them bugged out on me, I swear. There’s a Request to teach Zenkichi how to cook a simple meal, and Haru gives you a recipe including beef. I had no beef on me at the time, because if you want SP restoratives you gotta cook a fair amount and I used it, and I could find literally no beef in the city I was in at the time so I had to abandon the Request. On top of that, outside of getting food or a few moments where another character specifically asks for Joker’s attention, character-specific Requests mostly replace the ability to bond with the other characters individually.

The restoratives. Or, more specifically, the disparity between HP restoratives and SP restoratives. There’s essentially one cookable recipe to restore SP for every four recipes to restore HP. Even if I stopped at every store and vending machine, I’m pretty sure there were a couple cities where I could find NO SP restoratives for sale, while most stores and vending machines had at least two or three HP restoratives. And while it is true that you can go in and out of a Jail whenever you please to restore SP, that doesn’t help you if you run out during a boss fight you weren’t expecting (mini-boss encounters are virtually identical to regular monster encounters) or during one of the times where you CAN’T leave the Jail for reasons XYZ.

The final boss, and not just because I died and had to start over a few times. As a concept, EMMA could be cool, but in reality she just seemed like the writers threw Yaldabaoth and Maruki in a blender and poured the results into the game. Like Yaldabaoth, she is a false god who seeks to control humanity, claiming it’s what they want. Like Maruki, she seems genuinely deluded into thinking it’s for the best and that she’s not doing anything wrong. Her Jail looked like a slightly sci-fi reskin of the Depths of Mementos. The shtick with the multiple platforms and getting to actually SEE an all-out attack at the end were nice, but for the most part the fight itself was nothing special. Ultimately, EMMA had nothing unique going for her except her name.

Plus, EMMA’s entire rationale was that the majority of humans want someone else to control their lives for them, essentially out of convenience. And she’s presented as being more or less right, but that just being one of the hurdles of being human. It seemed a little dour and far-fetched. Like, the Thieves repeatedly point out that struggling allows people to grow, and they’re right, but in my experience, I’ve never actually met anyone who, upon hitting a roadblock, decided ‘Jesus take the wheel.’ Considering the greed with which her weird tentacle arms snatched up the solidified Desires, the pettiness of the complaints she used as a “gotcha,” and the fact that she just kind of reiterates her ‘people want to be controlled’ point over and over, I think it would have felt a bit more true to life and given her more agency if, instead of presenting her as largely correct, it instead acknowledged that everyone at some time or another hits a wall and wants someone to tell them what to do and had her capitalizing on those individual brief moments to hook people in, despite her having reams of data that for most people, those moments are temporary.

#persona 5 strikers #persona 5 strikers spoilers

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chaoticneutralwriter · 5 years ago

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Intermission: The Demon In Detail

You think a great way to enhance your experience in watching anything supernatural related is to have an actual demon beside you but.... that’s just your opinion.

guardian demon! Jimin x reader

word count: 2.6k

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, slow-burn, comedy

Related Works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!Jimin

A/N: An intermission! Can you guess what I’ve gotten myself into recently? LOL I thought it’d be cute to have something like this happen since once we get the ball rolling...not so many cute moments later on 🤐🤐🤐 (and the next chapter I have a feeling is going to be CHUNKY so...a little treat for you before that ;)) So anybody who hasn’t watched Good Omens yet but were planning to, some spoilers in that chapter! And as such, I don’t own anything related to Good Omens the show or the characters involved. Otherwise, enjoy!

“I thought you were supposed to be napping?”

Your gaze only shifts marginally away from your laptop screen to the sound of your sudden guest before flitting back.

“I was gonna just watch one episode….” You mumble petulantly but it was the honest truth. You really were planning on watching one episode of this series you picked up as a way to get you started and use it to give you that final push to knock out from being so tired.

Clearly that’s not gonna happen anymore.

Jimin gives a shake of his head, a little exasperated from your antics, not really annoyed but he does have to wonder; why are you lying on your bed like that? From his place by your doorway, all he sees is a mound of blanket that had been wrapped up into a lump with no doubt you underneath it. You’re using the giant plush calico cat shaped like a bean as a pillow, the one he got you on a whim one day and he hasn’t seen you without it since. He thinks its cute but there’s an actual, perfectly good pillow that you could use just laying not even two feet away, in fact, there’s plenty of room for you to be laying comfortably in and yet for some reason —

You’re curled into a ball, at the very end of your bed, your desk chair facing you, laptop propped onto the seat.

It’s like you MacGyver-ed your way into making things a lot more difficult for you.

You feel your mattress dip, causing you to shift with a grunt, pausing the episode so that you don’t miss out on anything as you turn your attention fully to your supernatural guardian. He’s taken a seat beside your head, one muscular thigh resting temptingly close to you. You bury your cheeks further into the plushness of your stuffed animal in hopes of hiding a creeping blush and smother the urge to jump ship with your pillow for something better.

“What are you watching that’s so interesting you forget the need to sleep?” Jimin asks, dark eyes staring inquisitively at the paused screen which has David Tennant and Michael Sheen bickering about what to do once they find the antichrist.

“It’s called ‘Good Omens’ — it’s about a demon and an angel who’s trying to prevent the apocalypse from happening when the antichrist, who’s a kid, realizes his true powers.”

You miss the way Jimin blinks, brows furrowing and absolutely flabbergasted at you when you push play again to continue the episode. He cocks his head from left to right like a puzzled puppy before he’s able to finally let the synopsis settle.

“I’m sorry what now?”

“So there’s a demon named Crowley, right? He’s the one in black there and an angel named Aziraphale who’s the one in white and they’ve somehow became really good friends throughout the years so they’ve like — oh you know what,” You pause, getting distracted yourself and not being able to re-explain the plot up until now while also taking in new developments. “Just rewatch the last two episodes, the series is only like six episodes long anyways.”

Jimin goes to complain, thinking how utterly ridiculous it would be from your paraphrased explanation alone but you’re already clicking back to the first episode. He clamps his mouth shut, purse his lips and exhales a quiet sigh through his nose, leaning back to might as well get comfortable. He’ll never quite understand a human’s obsession with his kind and angels to the point where they’ll come up with a million different ways to interpret their image — from monstrous looking creatures (on both sides) to simply more human-like supernatural entities, he thinks he’s seen them all over the years.

Oh whatever, he thinks, it’ll just be one episode and that way, he can at least say he didn’t give it a shot.

Four episodes later, you’ve somehow managed to sprawl out over each other, both equally as invested in the show. You had to hide your smile every time you glance over at Jimin who, every so often, tilts his head and then either snorts or hums noncommittally at the show’s interpretations. It also piques your curiousity on what Jimin finds approving or disapproving so whenever that happens, you usually ask him a question, even if you do sound like a two-year old discovering the world for the first time.

“So are there really four horsemen of the apocalypse?”

“There are…. Or were. They’re like Greek Titans now…. It’ll take a lot to summon them all at once.”

“Like the anti-Christ?” 

“I can probably assure you that Satan won’t be having a son any time soon.” Jimin replies and as an afterthought, his nose wrinkles. It’s weird to imagine one of your bosses having a kid, let alone imagine him to be the father type.

“…Huh.” You leave it at that, flopping your head back to rest against the mounds of pillows. Halfway through episode three, Jimin started to scold you in the way you’re laying on your bed and took it upon himself to actually drag you to the head of the bed so he can prop you on the pillows. Well…For the most part you were resting on the pillows behind you but with Jimin’s arm thrown out in the mix, you find at times you’re lying on the pillows and using Jimin’s arm as one too.

The stranger thing is that he hasn’t said anything about it.

“Have you ever met Beelzebub before? Are they like the ‘celebrities’ of demons?”

“They work in a different office division than mine, so I never see them — heard they’re not that great though.”

“Office division?” You laugh, tilting your head to shoot him an incredulous look. “So Hell runs like a corporation?”

“Where do you think concepts like capitalism come from?”

You let out another boisterous laugh, head flinging back and knocking lightly against his forearm. “Well, damn…”

His own lips curl into a smile at the sound.

It’s late into the evening by the time you get to the last episode where Crowley and Aziraphale help Adam have the confidence to tell Satan that he’s not his dad (always wanna hear something, ugly ass fucking…). You were very taken aback by the scene when it happened, finally seeing Satan for the first time, the big reveal but you found yourself more interested and far more amused by Jimin who had bursted out laughing so hard he was squeaking and creasing over himself. It then goes on to Adam restoring the world but then Aziraphale and Crowley get captured to be punished for treason.

“Is there such thing as ‘The Great Plan?’”

You vaguely feel Jimin’s fingers idly twirl and comb through strands of your hair as he thinks. Normally you’d feel embarrassed and shy away but the sensation is so nice and relaxing that you’re practically melting into his side. Plus, you’re very warm and cozy next to him.

“No, not that I’m aware of. I think angels already have too much of a superiority complex to instigate a war on Earth just to prove that they’re better than demons.”

“Well, that’s reassuring to hear I guess…”

You hear him chuckle breathily. “If it does happen though, I’ll save you…I guess.”

You scoff playfully, “Oh don’t worry, you won’t be able to get rid of me even if you tried.”

“And strangely, I don’t doubt that.”

It makes you smile smugly. The scene plays out in front of you as Crowley, disguised as Aziraphale and vice versa, gets their appropriate sentences (death by hell fire and death by holy water bath tub) but come away unscathed thanks to their switched disguises. You’ve long since learned holy water does in fact, harm demons the way its portrayed in the show (at least common demons, Jimin had explained killing someone like Satan with holy water would probably require a whole tank full and a soak for seven days) as well as other confirmed myths, like how demons and angels are actually supposed to look like.

“Demons and angels both have the ability to take on any sort of appearance they wish, as proven.” He cups one hand against his cheek and bats his eyelashes at you. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes but point taken.

“But how do they really look like? No glamour or anything.”

Jimin pauses, face slipping into a sort of rueful pensive look before he says, “Not pretty, I’ll tell you that. Demons are creatures deprived of the light, so they lurk in the dark, twisted by their very nature and obsession to corrupt. Only those who are foolish or wish to die would stand in the true face of one.”

You blink, taking in his words completely entranced even though he’s explaining something that should be terrifying and sounds a lot like a warning. Well, you suppose it would’ve worked if you didn’t already have your fair share of encounters (and would also help if you weren’t currently snuggled up against one). Besides that, you could’ve also sworn that you had seen Jimin in his ‘true’ form before, right when you first met him in fact. But then again… You pause, correcting yourself by recalling back the memory — he had been shrouded in shadow so the most you had seen of him were his striking, glowing red eyes.

So in conclusion, you hadn’t seen his true form.

Your lips purse; call it morbid curiosity but you’re a little disappointed. You’re pulled from your thoughts by a tap on your nose.

“Don’t get any funny ideas.” Jimin reprimands and though it sounds lighthearted enough, you hear the underlying seriousness of it.

“I wasn’t.” You say defensively, but then add, “What about angels? Do they fit the stereotypical halo and wings image?”

Your guardian smiles but it comes off more like a grimace and simply says, “I think you’re better off not knowing.”

Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all.

You voice as much however Jimin never goes into further detail than that. You begrudgingly drop the topic.

The episode closes with Aziraphale and Crowley changing back to their original selves and going on a lunch date. You let the credits roll, too comfortable to move otherwise. Jimin doesn’t bother moving either, that or maybe it’s the fact that you have his arm trapped underneath your head.

“How’d you find the series?” You ask, turning slightly to Jimin.

You see him shrug, angling his face towards you as he says, “It was…interesting; got a few things right surprisingly. But an angel being friends with a demon….” He shakes his head, “Yeah, that will never happen.”

“Hey now, I’m sure not all angels are assholes…” You argue, “Just like how not all demons are either…”

“Oh? And how are you so sure of that?”

“Well, I’ve met you and Jungkook and you’re both not that bad.”

Jimin hums, a low sound that vibrates from his chest and you barely register the flex of his arm beneath you before you’re hauled up from your spot. A squeak escapes past your lips as you’re suddenly chest to chest with Jimin, face mere inches from each other and those gleaming red ruby eyes staring straight back at you.

“Such sweet words, but I’m afraid that’s how you get killed my cherub — if not by them,” His voice drops until it’s nothing but a husky whisper when he says, “then by me.”

You think you stop breathing for a second, so caught off guard from how close you are to this unnecessarily gorgeous demon. His warm breath tickles your cheeks and you can practically count each long lashes over those mesmerizing eyes, and how full those pretty pink lips are….

You swallow nervously, only hoping that he wouldn’t notice but who were you kidding, being this close to him — if that doesn’t give you away then no doubt the rapid beating of your heart would’ve. You turn away, no longer able to withstand eye contact lest you want to end up drowning in those crimson depths and in a last ditch effort to distract him by any means, you mumble weakly, “D-Don’t be a such Crowley….”

Jimin blinks, confused. You think he’s going to laugh at you until his brows furrows, completely displeased. “I’m not a Crowley… at all.”

“Yes, you are.” You shoot back, grinning at the way he pouts. He scoffs, rolling you off of him in disgust and you laugh as you go, plopping back onto the bed.

“Be grateful I don’t have big creepy snake eyes. I could if I wanted to you know, but that would completely ruin my aesthetics.” Jimin argues, arms crossed.

“…What about wings?” You ask, blinking owlishly to meet Jimin’s eyes which had faded back to a warm brown. When he quirks an eyebrow at you, you elaborate. “You never really told me if demons have wings like in the show. Or if it’s even possible.”

His mouth opens as if to respond to you but then after a brief thought, he stops himself. You don’t mean anything by asking, simply curious is all but the way Jimin looks off, deep in contemplation has you a bit concerned. Just when the thought to break the sudden tension crosses your mind, Jimin exhales through his nose.

“To be honest, I don’t really know the answer to that one cherub. Maybe we did or maybe not at all — demons were once angels after all, or so I was told.”

You think he sounded a bit wistful near the end, the quiet sombreness of his tone tugging at your heart strings. However, Jimin doesn’t let you linger on it as he abruptly gets up, stretching his arms over his head and letting out a loud, exaggerated groan, effectively erasing any traces of it. “Anyways, I’m off. Your roommate should be home soon so I’ll see you whenever.”

Jimin turns to walk out of your room but you’re overcome with the urge to ease whatever emotion you unintentionally triggered for him. So you find yourself blurting out, “Well whether you did or not, I think wings would’ve looked p-pretty cool on you regardless…”

Your face feels like it may as well be on fire as you tense in trepidation, seeing Jimin halt in his steps. You can’t tell what his reaction is with his back turned towards you, so you wait, teeth chewing on your bottom lip and your calico plushie clenched in your hands like a stress ball. Then, you see him tilt his head, throwing you a look over his shoulder and that infamous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, obviously that’s a given.”

The breath you’d been holding wheezes out in a silent laugh. You shake your head and watch Jimin disappear, obviously very pleased with himself if the swagger in his step is anything to go by.

He might deny that he’s anything like Crowley, but to you, Jimin is more like the fictional demon than he realizes. Perhaps that was why he was your favourite character in the series. However when it comes down to it, you'd choose Jimin over Crowley being your guardian demon any day.

With or without wings.

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alagalaska · 5 years ago

Text

“Get Help!”

Summary: Thor and Reader do ‘Get Help.’

Pairing: Thor x Reader. Very brief mention of past Thor x Jane

A/N: This is the first piece of fiction I have ever shared. It’s just a silly one-shot I’ve been meaning to write for ages. I recently re-watched Thor: Ragnarok and I love the scene where Thor and Loki do ‘Get Help.’ I hope you like it! There is a reference to MC Hammer in this and if you don’t know his song ‘Can’t Touch This,’ you can watch it Here. If you enjoy this please leave a comment or reblog to let me know. I’d like to mention the very talented @shreddedparchment whose own fiction inspired me to start writing again (Thank you, beautiful!)

Warnings: Violence, firearms, silly humour, puns, 80’s fashion.

Word Count: 4,321

Disclaimer: (I know, I’m old school) I do not own anything to do with Marvel or the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). The idea of ‘Get Help’ is from Thor: Ragnarok and this is a piece of fiction that has been inspired by that. I do not own and did not create the characters of Thor, Tony, Sam, Natasha, Clint and Steve (or any other characters or entities from the MCU that may be referenced in any part of this fiction). I also did not write and do not own any rights to the MC Hammer song ‘Can’t Touch This’. The actual written content of this fiction, however, is my own and should not be used or copied, in part or whole. Plagiarism is a crime, kids.

Word Count: 4,321

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s your turn!” You shout to Thor, over the roar of gun fire. You’re crouched behind an overturned desk in a Hydra facility; your back pressed against cool steel. It’s all grey walls and metal furniture. You’re in some sort of office, just off a corridor where Thor is busy punching a Hydra agent’s face into a wall. There’s four more at the other end of the room you’re in, shooting at you with assault rifles. One of their comrades lies unmoving in the middle of the floor, papers littering the space surrounding him. Bullets bounce around you; metal glancing off metal.

You pop up from behind the desk and take a shot at the shoulder of a woman in a long white coat, who you assume is some kind of lab technician. She is hiding behind a filing cabinet that’s tipped onto its side, fumbling to reload her gun; you guess she’s not had to use it very often. She’d left her shoulder exposed to you and your bullet hits it easily. She angrily returns fire over the top of the filing cabinet, exposing her whole upper half- another rookie mistake- and you shoot her in the chest. She falls backwards to the floor, dropping her gun.

Another agent, who is wearing black tactical gear and is clearly much more skilled with his weapon, fires a well-aimed barrage of bullets at you, causing you to duck back down behind the cover of the desk. He misses you by millimetres.

Thor sees this from the doorway as he finishes dealing with the agents in the hall, tossing an unconscious man to one side, and storms into the room to help you; blue lightning sparking from his hammer. He’s breath-taking to watch.

Thor snarls and hurls Mjolnir at the man who had shot at you. It collides with his chest and slams him backwards into the front of another filing cabinet, on the far wall. The metal drawers crumple around his body.

There are only two of them left now, both hiding behind another overturned desk, opposite yours. You’re pretty sure only one of them is armed. The gun fire has paused and you can hear them whispering in frantic Russian from across the room.

You look over your shoulder at Thor.

“How’d you wanna do this?” You ask him, gesturing with your head towards the closed door behind where the agents are hiding. He glances down at you then towards the door with a look of consideration; but before he can answer, one of the remaining men leans around the right side of the desk and shoots at you.

You return fire, dipping back behind cover as you avoid his bullets. You barely notice as Thor calls Mjolnir back to him. He hesitates, crouched (as best as his huge frame can be) behind you, waiting to see if you’ll need him.

The other man, another lab technician by the looks of him, makes a dash towards the door behind them, a manila folder clutched under his arm as he frantically mashes his security card against the electronic pad on the wall.

Thinking quickly, you switch targets, shooting out his knees just as he manages to unlock the doors. He falls to the ground, groaning in pain.

Covering you whilst you take down the lab technician, Thor throws his hammer at the last Hydra agent, who is still firing at the pair of you, and it smashes obediently into him. Thor holds out his arm again for it to return to him and, with a metallic ‘whoosh,’ Mjolnir whips past you, into his hand. It reminds you of how this whole silly game had started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was still quite early on in your training and you were accompanying Clint, Nat and Sam on what was expected to be a simple take-down of an illegal arms dealership in Pakistan. Thor had also insisted on tagging along. Although this was probably too small a job for The God of Thunder, who could easily take down the whole depot single-handed, you knew he was just looking for an excuse to get out of the compound.

Since his break up with Jane, Thor had been around the Avengers compound a lot more and was helping wherever he could in order to keep himself busy; not that anyone was complaining, least of all you.

As the newest member of the Avengers, you were desperate to get as much experience in the field as possible, so you and Thor always seemed to be on missions together; and sometimes it was just the two of you.

You had become fond of Thor over the past few months, having spent so much time in his company; and you were starting to develop a bit of a crush on him.

So, although there would be more of you going on this mission than was entirely necessary, you didn’t mind at all.

It was lucky that Thor had been with you that day, because the base had been a lot more heavily guarded then you had originally thought.

“There’s at least six more hostiles in the room below you, Y/N. All armed,” Sam informed you through your ear piece as he soared around the perimeter of the building. “There’s a stairwell through the door on your left.”

“Thor,” You shouted to him as you wrestled with a man in khaki cargo pants and a black vest, both of you clutching at the same gun; you, trying to prise it out of his grasp before he could use it. “We need to head down!”

Thor nodded at your instruction, slamming his hammer into the chest of a man who had been aiming a gun at him. Behind him, another man, who had scaled a stack of crates, leapt down onto Thor’s shoulders. Thor let out a crazed growl, shaking the man from his back and into the pile of crates he had just jumped from, causing the whole lot to tumble; crushing yet another man in an avalanche of splintered wood and limbs.

So far, the raid had not been going to plan, at all. You had been really looking forward to taking charge on this one, proving to Thor and the rest of the team that you could handle the responsibility; but from the minute Sam had dropped you off on the roof, you’d been outnumbered and under prepared. You knew you’d let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security the second Thor had announced he was coming on the mission too.

They’ll be loads of us, you had thought, It’ll be a nice chance to spend some more time with Thor- it’s gonna be a walk in the park…

How wrong you’d been. You’d already lost the gun that Tony had had specially made for you- as a ‘well-done’ for making the team- whilst fighting your way through the top floor.

And there you were, struggling with one guy, whilst Thor had just taken on three, singlehandedly, as if they were nothing.

You continued to grapple for the gun when a bullet whizzed past your right arm from across the room, embedding itself in the wall behind you. Before you could do anything about it, Thor had sent a bolt of lightning into the back of the culprit’s skull, the air around him crackling with electricity. He’d obviously forgotten Steve’s very clear instruction to neutralise only, unless entirely necessary. The gunman fell motionless to the floor, blackened skin, crackling.

You let out a frustrated growl as you managed to yank the automatic from the man’s hands and butted him hard in the nose with the handle; knocking him out cold.

You glanced around at the bodies littering the floor then allowed yourself to double over, leaning with one hand on a crate, panting from the effort of your struggle.

You had been fighting with the same guy for so long that Thor had already cleared out the rest of the room before you had chance to properly get involved. You knew you shouldn’t be annoyed at him for that, but it didn’t lessen your frustration.

You’d come a long way in the short time you’d been with the Avengers and knew that you were obviously good enough to be on the team or you wouldn’t have been there, but it was difficult to remember that sometimes. Especially in times like this.

You were vaguely aware that Thor was watching you as he crossed the room, with a crease in his brow, as though he had heard your thoughts.

“I had it covered,” you said frustratedly as he came to a stop beside you.

“And I’m supposed to let you have all the fun?” he chuckled, good-naturedly. He took in your expression and, after a beat of silence, said more seriously, “You can’t always take everyone on by yourself.” It sounded like he was chastising you, the way you would a child that had eaten too many cookies- ‘You can’t have them all; you have to save some for other people.’

“You did,” you bit back.

“Y/N, our abilities are very different.” He sighed. “For us to work effectively as a team, you must learn to let others play to their strengths.”

You perched yourself on the edge of a crate, still sulking, so he continued.

“There is no shame in needing to rely on your team. That is what they are there for,” he paused, his expression softening as he dipped his head slightly to catch your eye, “What I am here for.”

You felt your cheeks heating up and guiltily dropped your eyes to stare at his feet, trying to avoid his gaze. He raised his hand to your chin and tilted your face so that you were looking at him. You could feel the lingering buzz of electricity in his touch, making the skin where he was touching you tingle. “You put far too much pressure on yourself. You do not need to prove yourself, least of all to me.” He moved the hand that was cupping your chin down to rest on your shoulder; only then did you realise how close you were both standing.

You tried to force yourself to focus on his words, rather than the heat of his hand, still on your shoulder.

You knew he was right, of course, as Thor so often is. You always put too much pressure on yourself.

You must have been frowning up at him or something, because he was prompted to add, “Stop taking everything so seriously,” giving your shoulder a small shake. He smiled, to show he was only joking, and then he released you.

You watched, finding yourself still at a loss for words, as he started heading towards the stairs Sam had mentioned earlier.

You stood up suddenly, remembering you were in the middle of a mission; this was no time to be feeling sorry for yourself. However, you couldn’t help but let out a small huff as you followed him. I do not take things too seriously, you thought.

Just then, your ear piece crackled into life again; Sam bringing yet more bad news.

“Hey guys, looks like they got bored of waiting; they’re on their way up to you.”

“Ugh, great,” you grumbled, picking up the gun you had been wrestling for earlier. “Got it. Thanks, Wilson. You hear that, Thor? We’ve got incoming.”

You could already hear the sound of large, heavily booted feet approaching from the stairwell, as you raced across the room at full speed, overtaking Thor and ducking behind the pile of toppled crates, facing the doorway. I am so done with this day, you thought resentfully to yourself.

You glanced over your shoulder at Thor; he was hesitating behind you, poised ready with Mjolnir. “It’s your call,” his deep voice rumbled through your headset. He was trying to appease you.

You knew it had been wrong of you to get annoyed at him for doing his job. He was right; you couldn’t expect others to hold back during a fight just to spare your feelings. You had plenty of time to finish honing your skills and improving your technique during training sessions with Nat; team work should be more important when on mission.

Now was the perfect time to show Thor that you had taken on board what he had said. You would let him do what he does best, and wipe out the enemy with one easy swing of his hammer. Then you could go home and be done with this god awful mission. Win win.

But before you could communicate that to him, the men from the lower floor burst through the doorway at the top of the stairs, each holding a gun strapped over their shoulder.

Thinking fast, (or possibly not thinking at all) you leapt out from behind the crate, hands held up in front of you, and yelled, “Stop!”

They faltered, caught off guard by your command. You could see a couple of men at the back of the group stumble into each other, as the rest came abruptly to a halt in front of them.

Perhaps if it had been Hydra agents you had been dealing with, they would have shot at you without a moment’s hesitation; but these men all stopped, looking uncertainly from one to the other, hands frozen on their guns, as though they were trying to decide if you were a civilian.

Then a thought popped into your head. It was too perfect not to say it.

“Hammer Time!” You spoke into your comms, but loud enough so that everyone in the room would hear it.

The words left your mouth with a smug little smirk. As far as improvisation goes, you thought that was pretty funny. You’re not sure what made you do it; perhaps it’s true what they say, that people do strange things when under pressure.

But Thor obviously didn’t get the reference- why would he, he’s Asgardian- because he was looking around expectantly, clearly waiting for something to happen. You sighed inwardly.

“Thor,” you said, exasperated, “Throw the hammer.” You gestured at Mjolnir, feeling stupid. You forget sometimes that he doesn’t always understand ‘Midgardian humour,’ as he puts it.

“Ohhh,” he said, glancing down at Mjolnir and back up to you with a sudden understanding, then hurled the hammer towards the group of men. It whipped past you, sending your hair fluttering around your face.

One of the men gripped his gun, as if with the afterthought to shoot at you, but the hammer smacked into him, knocking him and the other men back out into the corridor and down the stairs.

There was a moment filled with the thudding sounds of bodies falling down a flight of steps and then a chorus of muffled groans that floated up from the bottom of the stair well.

“Er, thanks,” you said to Thor as he walked forward to stand next to you.

Something in the way he looked at you made you think that he understood the layers of meaning behind your thanks, without you having to vocalise it.

You were awkwardly playing with the strap of your stolen gun, really hoping he wouldn’t mention what had just happened.

He smiled and gave your shoulder a small squeeze in response then went back to examine the unconscious gunmen, without speaking.

Peering over the railings of the stairs, you looked down to see the motionless tangle of bodies in a pile at the bottom.

Then a sudden, harsh burst of laughter came through your earpiece, causing you to jump in surprise and the comms to crackle with static. It took a moment for you to place that it was Sam.

“Woooh,” he let out one final hoot of a laugh, “uh, sorry,” he coughed, trying to compose himself. “Back up has arrived. All hostiles have been neutralised and are being… are being detained,” he stumbled around another muffled laugh. “Nat’s coordinating seizing all the fire arms now. You guys better make your way back up to the roof; I’ll give you a lift down from there, Y/N,” he said, poorly concealing the teasing edge to his voice.

“No thanks, Wilson,” you grumbled in response, “I’ll take the stairs down.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you climbed back onto the quin jet afterwards, feeling exhausted from the mission and annoyed about making a fool of yourself in front of Thor, Natasha clapped you on the shoulder.

“Nice bit, MC Hammer. Real smooth,” she said, adding the last bit with a knowing smirk.

You could feel Thor watching the pair of you as he, too, climbed aboard.

Natasha laughed and passed you, moving to the front of the jet with the others. You heard Sam saying “Can’t touch this,” jokingly to Clint as they went and they both dissolved into laughter. Of course, they all must have heard you through your headset. Sam’s laughter earlier suddenly made much more sense.

“Ugh,” you sighed and took your seat in the back, opposite Thor.

“Who is Emsie Hammer?” he asked you as you strapped yourself in. You shook your head playfully, smirking at his mispronunciation, but didn’t correct him.

“He’s a… recording artist,” you tried to explain. “He makes hip hop music,” you added, seeing Thor’s blank look. “I’ll just show you,” you said, taking out your phone and opening the YouTube App. You pulled up a clip of ‘Can’t Touch This’ and leaned over the gap between your seats, showing him the phone.

“What is wrong with his pants?” asked Thor, looking up from the video briefly to catch your eye, then turned his gaze back to the screen, intrigued.

“It was the ‘80s,” you said with a shrug, “Everyone dressed like that.”

When it got to the part where he says ‘Hammer Time,’ Thor suddenly let out a bellowing laugh. It made you jump, looking up at him with startled eyes.

“I get it!” He boomed at you, “Hammer time- because I have a hammer!” he gestured to Mjolnir, propped beside his seat, as he continued to chuckle loudly. “That’s very funny!”

You felt your cheeks heat up again as you laughed lightly along with him, glad he finally got your joke, but still feeling like a bit of a fool.

You caught a movement in the corner of your eye and saw Natasha grinning at you over her shoulder from where she was flying the jet. You ignored her and turned your attention back to Thor as he handed your phone back to you. Nat resumed her conversation with Sam and Clint as if she’d never turned around.

“You know, it really surprised those guards. You screaming ‘stop’ at them, I mean,” Thor said, a smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you. “Maybe we should use that tactic from now on,” he suggested, with a chuckle.

You laughed at the thought to start with, but then you considered it properly. You’d heard worse suggestions, and, from your experience, surprise tactics were among the most effective; given the right circumstances.

“That might actually not be a bad idea,” you said, genuinely.

Thor looked at you with a hint of confusion, but you were quick to explain yourself, “It worked today, didn’t it? Granted, it might not always be appropriate, but, you know…” you continued, thinking aloud now, “we could have a bit of fun with this; make a wager or something?” His interest seemed to pique at that. “After all, you did tell me to stop taking things so seriously,” you reminded him with a smirk.

“That, I did,” he agreed, “OK… what do you suggest?”

“How about, most surprising entrance wins?” You were expecting him to say that he had only been joking and that it would be unwise to take such risks during missions; but you could see a faint twinkle in his blue eyes.

“But what will be the prize?” He asked you.

You both thought for a moment.

“How about,” Thor began, unable to hide the grin that was breaking across his lips, “If I win, you go on a date with me?”

You weren’t aware of how quiet Clint, Sam and Natasha had suddenly gone; with the fluttering that was happening in your stomach and the heat that had crept up the sides of your face and neck.

You had considered the thought of something romantic happening between you and Thor, of course you had; you’re only human. But you’d never taken those thoughts seriously, despite your growing feelings for him. He’s the God of Thunder, after all; why would he bother with a mere mortal? But then, you had said to yourself, he bothered with Jane; why not you?

“Ok,” you had said, suddenly feeling confident, “But if I win, you go on a date with me.”

He had laughed at that. “Win, win, wouldn’t you say?

“Ah yes, but, loser pays,” you said with a smirk.

That mission had certainly ended a lot better than it had started.

Since then, the pair of you had come up with such classics as, “Knock, knock,” “Who’s there?” “My Boot”- that was the time Thor had kicked down a door onto an unsuspecting Hydra agent.

And then there was the time you’d slid down the banister of a flight of stairs, childishly giggling “WHEEEEEEEE!” as you went, and knocked down three men who were running up them towards you. You and Thor had stood and laughed as you watched them tumble comically like surprised dominoes, one into the other, back down at least ten steps.

And you’d both been getting progressively sillier with your suggestions.

Thor looks at you now, a boyish twinkle in his eyes, and says two words.

“‘Get Help.’”

“Wait, what?” you ask him, as you step over the bodies of the fallen Hydra agents, peppered with bullet holes of your own making.

“‘Get Help.’” He repeats. “Loki and I used to do it all the time when we were children. It’s when you-”

You shake your head, laughing. “I know what ‘Get Help’ is,” you say, cutting him off. “I’m just surprised you know that, but you didn’t know ‘Hammer time.’”

You come to a stop in front of the door and pick up the file that the male lab technician had been trying to escape with and store it in the satchel slung over your shoulder, where you keep your emergency med kit. Whatever’s inside it, it was worth risking his life for; so you figure it’ll probably be useful.

“You ready?” he asks you.

“Yeah, alright, but can I please be the injured one?” you ask, sliding your gun into the holster strapped to your thigh.

Thor smiles at you. “Of course.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of something. “You’re more fun than Loki, he always used to complain.” He’s still smiling, but you notice a dull sadness that settles behind his eyes at the mention of his brother’s name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Get help! Please, get help; my girlfriend is dying!” Thor shouts dramatically, as he kicks the door open. Your stomach does a little flip as you register that he just called you his ‘girlfriend,’ but you try not to think anything of it. His left hand clings to your waist, your right arm draped over his shoulders as he all but lifts you against his left side. You hang limply in his grasp with your eyes closed, waiting for your cue. If you weren’t so focused on the current situation, you might have had more trouble ignoring his touch. You’d never been this physically close to him before.

Hydra agents run round the corner at the commotion and through slitted eyes you see them falter as they take in Thor holding your apparently lifeless body. They look at each other for a mere second then aim their guns. At this, Thor hurls you, unexpectedly, at the men. Going with it, you make yourself as long as possible, spinning in mid-air as you’re flung towards them. You smack into all three of them, knocking them to the ground. You go into a forward roll as you make contact with the floor, landing deftly behind them in a very Natasha Romanoff way; crouched on one knee, with your right hand on the floor between your legs and your left arm out to the side to steady you.

You look up at Thor.

“Did you really have to throw me?”

“I thought you said you knew how to do ‘Get Help?’” He says amusedly. “That’s how Loki and I always used to do it.”

“That might be why he didn’t like it!” you laugh, a little louder than you mean to. “You know, as much as I hate to admit it, I think this one puts you in the lead,” you say as Thor helps you to your feet.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Thor muses, “The time you lead us in that line; what’s it called? The… Conga? That was pretty good,” He remembers, with a smile. It had been good, and was the only time you’d managed to convince any of the other Avengers to join in; Steve had been very reluctant, complaining about how you and Thor’s little wager was ‘getting out of hand.’

Just then, Steve’s voice comes on over your earpieces, “Hey guys, sorry to interrupt, but you think you could just call it quits and go on that date, already? Natasha is driving me crazy here.” You hear something that sounds a lot like Nat hitting him and then he laughs, “Aah, ok, ow!”

You both chuckle and Thor rubs the back of his neck with his right hand, looking nervous, which is unusual for him.

“Ok,” you say to Thor with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant, as your heart beats rapidly inside your chest, “But next time we do ‘Get Help’, I get to throw you.”

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emospritelet · 5 years ago

Text

Homecoming - chapter 13

Yes, I know, it’s been months. Apparently I needed to see gifsets before I could work on this again, but here we are! I get them out of London and on their way north, which is good, because Things are going to Happen when they get there...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] AO3 link

Belle had enjoyed the Christmas festivities a great deal more than she had expected. She had spent a pleasant couple of days reading in the library, chatting with Ogilvy and the Professor over tea in the afternoon, or over a glass of wine at dinner. She had also spent time with Alice, who had kept her promise to ask her dressmaker to make up a gown for Belle from the bolt of blue silk she had been given as a Christmas gift. Madame Etoile was pleasant and polite, gushing over Belle’s face and form, and the colour of the silk. It would perfectly set off her pale skin and chestnut hair, Madame Etoile remarked, smiling broadly as she ran small, neat hands over the gleaming cloth.

There was some discussion over styles, once her measurements were taken, Madame Etoile’s pattern book filled with the latest fashions from Paris, and Belle was excited by the prospect of having a new gown in such a fetching colour. It would certainly make a change from the more staid dresses that she had been wearing during her time as a governess, and she hoped that she would get more than one chance to wear the gown. It would be ready for its first fitting when they returned from their journey to Lady Tremaine’s house in the north of England.

The day after Boxing Day, a letter was received from Lady Tremaine, who pronounced herself “delighted that you will be visiting my humble home and confident that you will be able to rid me of the evil entities that dwell there and steal my rest”. Ogilvy read this line aloud over breakfast, in a very dry tone and with one eyebrow raised. It made Belle want to giggle, and Alice snorted in amusement.

“When shall we go, Papa?” she asked eagerly, and Ogilvy passed the letter back to the Professor before picking up his piece of toast and marmalade.

“Her Ladyship informs me that she’s travelled back to the North, and has invited us for the New Year, so I should think we can set off the day after tomorrow,” he said. “That should give Hatter plenty of time to pack the cases. You know how he likes to plan these things.”

“What did Lady Tremaine say about us staying at that cottage?” asked Alice, and he shook his head, chewing a bite of toast. He took a sip of coffee to clear his throat.

“Unfortunately, it’s been undergoing quite extensive repairs,” he said. “She’s asked us to stay at the house instead. I did mention that we were planning on bringing quite an entourage, but she doesn’t seem to object. I hear Willowbrook Grange is extensive, so I daresay she’s got the room.”

“It’s only the four of us, and the twins,” protested Alice. “And Hatter and Ivy, of course, although I don’t imagine that would be an issue. Ivy can come, can’t she?”

Ogilvy looked at her over the top of his glasses.

“Well, someone’s going to have to dress you and Miss Marchland,” he said dryly. “I'd like to to remember that Lady Tremaine has invited other guests to a shooting party, and that she plans “a series of entertainments”. If you think I’m suffering that with only Doc for company while you two lounge around in the library, you’re mistaken.”

Belle glanced between them, surprised and a little alarmed by the prospect of Lady Tremaine’s reaction to the governess attending a house party.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t want me there,” she said quickly, and Ogilvy switched his gaze from Alice to her.

“We expect Lady Tremaine to consider you a guest, Miss Marchland,” he said quietly. “I shall insist upon you being treated as an equal, I assure you. Not only because you’re part of this family now, but also because I think your good sense and logic would be of use to Doc and myself in this investigation.”

“We’ll need all the good sense and logic we can get, judging from that letter,” remarked the Professor, spearing a piece of bacon with his fork. “Her Ladyship appears to be convinced that she’s been marked by the Devil himself.”

“Well, perhaps we can put her mind at ease,” said Ogilvy, picking up his coffee. “At the very least it will give us a change of scene, and some good clean air. From what I can recall, the lake country is very beautiful, and Lady Tremaine is said to have stunning gardens. Perhaps they would add a little something to our morning walk, if - if you would accompany me, of course.”

He was looking at Belle expectantly, and she couldn’t help smiling.

“I should be delighted.”

He returned her smile, his eyes crinkling, and turned back to his breakfast. She resumed eating her own, trying to ignore the pleasing little flutter in her belly that appeared whenever he smiled at her. Over the past few days she had grown to know him a little more, spending her evenings in the library, or discussing books and music after dinner. He was very knowledgeable, and well-travelled, as was the Professor, and she had listened eagerly to their reminiscing, although she was sceptical about the far-fetched nature of some of their stories, and thought them embellished for her sake, and for Alice’s. They could not really have discovered a nest of demons in the tunnels beneath Exeter, for example, but she had enjoyed the tale, nonetheless.

She had spent more time with the children, as well, getting to know their quirks and assessing how far along they were with their schooling. Neither could read or write much beyond their own names. With one or two notable exceptions.

“Please write your names at the tops of your slates, as neatly as you can,” said Belle, setting a clean slate in front of each of them.

The schoolroom was light and fresh, a cold draught finding its way in under the sash window, and Belle kept an eye on the twins in case they started to shiver. She watched as they scratched out their names in wobbly letters, Nicholas scowling at his slate.

“Very good,” she said, when they had finished, making a mental note to work on their writing. The letters were recognisable, but they would need to learn to write with a better hand. “Now show me what else you can spell.”

The twins looked at each other, then back at their slates. They made no move to write, and Belle decided to prompt them with some simpler words. Her eyes flicked to where Charlie was curled up in a patch of sunlight by the window.

“Can you spell ‘cat’?” she asked, and the twins shook their heads.

“I can spell ‘shit’,” announced Nicholas. “Old Bartholomew down at The Turk’s Head showed me.”

“Oh, I can spell ‘shit’ too!” said Ava eagerly, and Belle closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again.

“Well, I would hope you won’t find the need to put that word into any formal correspondence,” she said dryly, making them giggle. “Perhaps we should run through the alphabet before putting any words together.”

She also spent time with Alice, who seemed to enjoy having another woman in the house, and one that she could talk to almost as an equal. Belle thought that Ogilvy and the Professor had done an excellent job of raising her, considering the start she had had in life and the lack of a wife in the house to act as a mother figure. Alice was curious and intelligent, eager to learn new things and incredibly excited at the thought of going on a journey. She chattered away as Belle packed her valise, sitting on the bed in her usual familiar way.

“I heard that Willowbrook Grange is haunted,” she said. “So Mrs Wolfe says, anyway. Maybe that’s what Lady Tremaine has asked Papa and Doc to help with. They don’t always deal with hauntings, you know. Doc says sometimes the spirits just like the place where they used to live, and that we shouldn’t throw them out of their own house just because it makes us uncomfortable. Of course, sometimes they’re trapped there, and then he and Papa help them to cross over. They wouldn’t be able to come back if they didn’t, you see.”

“Come back?” said Belle curiously, and Alice nodded.

“Come back as someone else,” she explained. “Another life.”

Another life. Perhaps she believes as Mr Ogilvy does. Past lives.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” asked Belle, folding a blouse, and Alice beamed.

“Oh yes!” she said. “I used to see them all the time in the alleys before I came here. Poor, lost souls, they were. I wish Doc could have helped them find a way out. I don’t think any of them wanted to be there.”

She chewed at her lip, looking sad, and Belle tried to change the subject.

“I hear the house is very grand,” she said. “I’m sure I shall feel quite out of place.”

“Of course you won’t,” Alice assured her. “You lived at Furton Grange, didn’t you? I’m sure Lady Tremaine’s house can’t be any grander than that.”

“Perhaps not,” allowed Belle. “I wish my new dress had been ready for the journey, though.”

“You shall wear it when we get back,” said Alice. “For my birthday, perhaps. That’s in February. The dress will be ready by then. We can have some music and dancing, like at Christmas.”

“That would be very pleasant.”

“You can dance with Papa,” she said. “He’s very fond of you, you know. He smiles a lot more, since you came.”

Belle could feel a slight blush in her cheeks, and she turned her attention to the stockings she was packing to hide it.

“I’m - I’m glad,” she managed. “He’s been very kind. You all have. I’m very happy that I came here.”

“We’re glad too!” said Alice. “It felt as though something was missing from the house, and then you came!”

She reached for Belle’s hand, squeezing it, a wide smile on her face, and Belle couldn’t help smiling back. Yes. She was very glad to have found this little family, and to be considered a part of it.

They departed early, Hatter hailing a cab to take them to the station at Euston, and another for he and Ivy and their cases. They would be breaking their journey in Derbyshire, Lady Ella having sent an effusive letter inviting them to stay at Furton Grange, and Belle clasped the children’s hands as they walked swiftly along the platform through clouds of billowing steam. Ogilvy helped each of them into the carriage, and Alice glanced back over her shoulder as she mounted the train, face alight with excitement.

The twins were wide-eyed with curiosity as the train made its way out of London, faces pressed to the windows of the compartment as soot-blackened buildings gave way to scattered villages and then rolling countryside, swathed in white blankets of snow. Belle and Alice started a game with them, asking them to point out churches along the route, but after awhile they grew bored, and sat back against the cushioned seats. The Professor produced a bag of toffees, which kept them quiet for long enough that Belle and Alice could share a brief conversation about Furton Grange, and the gardens there.

“I suspect there’ll be far less to see at this time of year, of course,” said Belle. “Although Lady Ella always did enjoy the Christmas celebrations. She always had a very large Christmas tree in the hall, and kept it up until Twelfth Night.”

“I bet her Christmas tree isn’t as pretty as ours,” said Ava stoutly.

“Well don’t tell her that,” remarked Ogilvy, from behind his newspaper.

“Miss Belle says we should always speak the truth,” said Ava, and he let the top half of the newspaper fold over, glancing at her over the rim of his glasses.

“And Miss Belle is quite correct,” he said. “Although if it comes to a choice between telling the truth and protecting someone’s feelings, sometimes it’s best to remain silent.”

“I can’t deny that,” said Belle, when the twins turned their gaze to her. “One should always aim to be kind where one can, of course.”

“What if someone’s nasty?” asked Nicholas. “Do you tell ‘em they’re nasty because it’s honest, or do you say nothing because that’s the nice thing to do? How will they know they’re nasty if you don’t tell ‘em?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that,” said Belle. “Perhaps if it’s something they can change, it’s appropriate to say something.”

“Oh!” said Ava, with a look of understanding. “So it would be mean to tell old Bartholomew he’s got a big nose, because he can’t change that. But it’s alright to tell him he smells, because he can go and have a wash, can’t he?”

There was a snort of amusement from the Professor, which he turned into a cough. Belle closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them Ogilvy was watching her with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I think perhaps there are more tactful ways to speak to people,” she said. “We can move onto that sort of thing after you’ve worked on your letters.”

“We can spell ‘shit’, Mr Ogilvy,” announced Ava helpfully, and Belle wanted to put her head in her hands.

“That sounds a bit like your vocabulary at their age,” remarked the Professor, and Ogilvy grinned.

“Well, I improved vastly with time and patience,” he said. “I have every faith in Miss Marchland’s abilities, as well as Ava and Nicholas’s.”

He turned back to his paper, and Belle shared a brief, pained look with Alice.

They had to change trains at Derby, taking the branch line to Matlock. Lady Ella was to send a carriage to meet them, and looking out of the train window, Belle hoped they would not have to wait too long. The snow was falling again, thick white flakes drifting down as the sky darkened. By the time they had alighted from the train, the twins tired and fractious, it was fully dark, but Belle was relieved to see Hatter already conversing with a tall man in a black greatcoat, beside a large black carriage. The man bowed solemnly to them, and opened the door to the carriage.

Belle well remembered the journey from the station to Furton Grange, a jolting, winding ride of thirty minutes or so. She and Alice held the twins on their laps, bracing against one another to avoid being thrown around, and Ogilvy and the Professor held tight to the leather straps at the side of the carriage, their walking canes wedged against the opposite seats to keep their balance. Belle whispered in Nicholas’s ear as they turned the final corner, the dark mass of Furton Grange lit up from within, sending sharp wedges of warm light out across the smooth carpet of snow.

It was a fine house, two hundred years old, the sweeping driveway providing a welcome break from the rutted road leading to it, and Belle could see servants hurrying from the house to greet them. Lady Ella appeared as they were being led up the wide steps, dressed in ivory silk and with a fur stole draped around her thin shoulders to keep out the winter cold.

“My darlings!” she drawled, swooping in to press a kiss to Ogilvy’s cheek. “How wonderful to see you! Do come in and warm yourselves. There’s barely time to change before dinner!”

#fic: homecoming #ogilvelle fic #ogilvelle #my fic

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comicteaparty · 5 years ago

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July 20th-July 26th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from July 20th, 2020 to July 26th, 2020. The chat focused on Ring Spell by Artem Ficta.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Ring Spell by Artem Ficta~! (http://ring-spell.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until July 26th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Feather J. Fern

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic? I like how it seems lighthearted at first, but knowing Artem it's going to drop the ball on us really soon haha.(edited)

Also I always love how the backgrounds are, they look great.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Hahah, it's a shame I didn't get one more update up XD Thank you so much, Feather~!

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

well, the CTP is gonna run for the rest of the week...

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I can't finish the next 8 pages by then XD

My guess is they'll be up the week after next

RebelVampire

For the beginning, I'm with Feather and I like how quickly the comic transitions from just lalala happy school to oh wait there's weird shit going on. I really like stories where the status quo is quickly ripped out from under your feet. My favorite moment in the comic so far is probably the most recent scene when we get to see Lyall's apartment and ya know, Claire starts dropping all these bombshells on us. The scene is the epitome of "Well that escalated quickly" and its just loaded with so much info to unpack. My favorite character right now is Claire. One because she seems the most sensible and mysterious, and two because I love Claire's hair so much and I'm so jealous and want such floof beautiful hair. ;3; As for characters I like see interacting the most, probably Claire and Lyall and they have some really good banter and a relationship, insofar, that's just kind of hilarious in its brutal honesty. A close second for me is Claire and Tasha as it quickly switches from happy smiles to probably most likely to have a catfight in the hallway.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Catfight in the hallway, lolol. Makes me want to draw them dressed like cat girls XD

RebelVampire

No not that sort of catfight

probably

O_O

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

comic turns into a catgirl fetish comic

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

1. I like how the first word is Zenchav which was the title of the comic this is a hard reboot of XD 2. My favorite moment was Lyall sticking his hands up Damon's shirt XD I really like how it was drawn and it's the most Lyall thing ever to do. 3. My favorite character overall is Damon, although it's probably Lyall at this point in the story. But I like them all of course XD 4. Damon and anybody, lol. I like when I get to draw him XD 5. I've been trying out a new shading style with this since I almost exclusively just hard shaded before, so it's nice to be branching out a bit and trying some new things. The Intro page is probably my favorite atm.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

Theory: Lyall sticking his cold hands up Damon's shirt is how he drains Damon's energy, because secretly he's the witch.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Oh no! XD that would be a twist!

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Oh snap!

mathtans

Hmmm, so we ship Claire and Tasha then?

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I don't not ship Tasha and Claire >v>

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Drew that picture of them

RebelVampire

We should indeed all suspect Lyall. I mean no parents, lives alone, yet somehow affords everything? That's witchery.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

How does he afford all that stuff

does he sell drugs on the side or something XD it is suspicious

mathtans

1. I'll mostly echo everyone else here in terms of the start seems pretty straightforward and makes one wonder how the teaser page fits into it all. I'll add a remark on the subtle details of world building, like you've got your digital alarm... and dude straight up has a TAIL, and it's like, no comment, that's normal too.

2. Favourite moment was probably recruiting Claire into the cosplay skit. It's like, hello new person, oh you want to associate with us? Then you need the proper accessories, and Claire's all 'Um, I'm not sure... prop weapons? Uh, okay then...' Cosplay is a force to be reckoned with. (nods)

3. Fave character... yeah, may have to echo Rebel here and go with Claire. Possibly because she's the first chapter name, and like the reader is coming into this new situation, so can get behind her trying to figure it out... but also because I'm big on the time/space bureau stuff and that sounds like a cool job to get.

Damon has a cool cane and has the mysterious ailment afflicting his cosplay though, so he's my fave guy at the moment. (Werewolf blood? Moon thing? Dunno.)

4. I honestly do like the Tasha/Claire interactions the most, because each of them seems to have something to hide, and so you're kind of wondering if and when one of them might slip up. The other girl interrupting with the paint was classic, and I felt it helped break tension. The ship picture (which I imagine won't show in the log) is kind of representative of that with the chessboard too, like they're making moves against the other (though I'm not yet convinced that one is a witch, could be a setup).

Of course, I'm very biased towards the yuri, so grain of salt for my opinions and all. And while the ship was a humour comment at first, I think I'm more into it after seeing a "catfight" could play out.

All that said, the Lyall/Damon interactions are equally good. Lyall's perversion sometimes saying the quiet part out loud.

5. I recognize the art style, have read some of the work before (under different name). Always find the hair impressive, like here you get the impression of each individual strand except that's not actually what's drawn... you can still see the neat ears, Claire having some strands that fall in front of her too. The shading is really good too, like definitely shades of grey, not just black and white.

Kind of echoing the author there, but I can see it.

I'm so bad with themes and need to charge computer, will be back later. o.o

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I love all this input Math, thank you ;3;/

RebelVampire

@mathtans You have no idea how happy I am that someone noticed the tail that nobody seemed to comment on.

RebelVampire

What I like about the art is how clean and crisp everything is cause mmmm that sexy lineart you can just paint bucket when needed. <3 I like that the comic explores the idea of having someone you've known your entire life possibly be evil. Cause it opens up a lot of questions. Like should you doubt? Should you trust? And at which point have you hit the point of betrayal? So I'm glad we'll get to see a bit of this tackled as Lyall and Claire look for evidence. As for the overall story, I like that there's just lots of questions going on. It's a theorists dream. But I find the more mysteries a comic has, the more engaging it is. Because even when you know the answer, it's interesting everytime to see the characters reach that answer. As for the comic's strengths, see the above and the art. It's super pretty and clean to look at, has some fantastic emotive faces during the more comedic moments, and there's just lots to theorize and look forward too. ;3;

Now I will proceed to weep as someone who beta read the script and actually can't theorize cause I just know .

mathtans

Others may have noticed but not been sure what to say? (Does the tail turn into the cane?)

6. Ok, themes... could be a theme of belonging in there. Like Claire being accepted into the group, like Lyall wondering if she's only talking to him to get to Damon, that sort of thing? Then there's the idea Rebel raised of thinking you know someone but not necessarily knowing them.

Of course, there's also credibility, like maybe Claire is simply an escaped mental patient with really good hacking skills to get herself in the school and apartment. Because that's quite the tale she spins. (Though Lyall had heard of the organization? Or he's pranking her, bit hard to know for sure.)

7/8. The story's been setting up a number of things in the background, I feel. Which can be a strength, as we're learning more character items first. Though Claire's latest revelation I'm really jazzed about, because the idea of time travel (times when demons weren't supposed to be) and personification (Earth as a female entity) are right up my alley. So that's cool.

Also Lyall apparently has a strange aura to go with Tasha's strange energy? Maybe the witch is jumping bodies. Maybe we should ship Lyall/Tasha.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Oh my gosh, loving these ideas!

I don't want to give spoilers but I think I'll answer the tail thing cause I never really meant for it to be a mystery It's just tucked into his pants when he's in public is all. That's why he's wearing the track suit for the school and not the standard school uniform, cause the pants are looser.

although it turning into the cane could have been hella cool(edited)

now I'm a little bummed I never thought of that

But the cane has other purposes

mathtans

I didn't really think it was a big mystery, and that explanation makes sense. (So I suppose it could be not normal, only normal for Damon's friends... demon prejudice otherwise?) Ok, so the cane is where he hides his stimulants to keep awake until the full moon.

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. What are your theories about Damon’s past? Why is he concerned about when the full moon is? Additionally, what do you think was meant about Damon and Xerfonos being the same age but not being twins?

10. Do you think Claire is right that Tasha is the witch Cadence? If so, how will she prove it? If not, who else could it be? Also, what might this all have to do with Tasha’s concern about Claire being the mysterious Draco’s student?

11. What do you think Cadence ultimately wants from Damon? Why would this compel the Earth, and by extension Apus, to protect him? Also, even if the characters find Cadence, can she actually be stopped?

12. Why do you think Lyall reacted so strangely to Claire mentioning Apus, and why do you think he’s so sure Apus wouldn’t care about protecting Damon? Do you think Lyall can trust Claire even for the long term?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mathtans

9. I mean, Damon seems to be a demon, but he's cool with being in our world, so... maybe he was born of a human/demon pairing? Or he was adopted by humans when he was a baby and simply given the same birthday as Xerfonos. I'm guessing the full moon has more significance than merely to werewolves (unless Damon needs to bite a werewolf to regain strength idk) and so it would help him.

I will say that initially the "same age" thing didn't phase me because there's more than 9 months in a year, plenty of time for having a second kid born in the same year. But now that I'm debating the adoption angle, maybe there's more to it.

They're not twins... they're TRIPLETS! Dun dun dun. Anyway.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

they could also just not be twins due to a date technicality like one was born right before midnight and one was born right after

but yeah the adoption angle would explain a lot

mathtans

10. I don't think she's right about Tasha, or if she's right, not in the way she thinks. Because we've seen some from Tasha's perspective and she didn't seem to be the person in charge of whatever. In terms of proof, I guess she could see if Tasha would cosplay as a witch? And if the shoe fits? But yeah, maybe the witch is jumping between people like I mentioned earlier, or is not actually there yet, like APUS got the date wrong or something. Maybe Tasha's also trying to protect Damon from the witch (hence trying to give him that new name) but it's a rival organization?

I mean, technically still twins in that case, just not having the same birthday. (If Feb 29th enters into it, it gets even weirder.)

Actually, why wouldn't Claire use Damon's given name? Maybe her organization doesn't know everything it thinks it does?

Anyway, just had time for some random thoughts. Back later tonight.

mathtans

11. Cadence may just want him to keep living so that she can keep siphoning off energy. (Thus perhaps APUS wants him dead, it's not about protection?!) Or maybe Cadence wants a sweet cosplay. (Probably not.) Of course, it might be that if she's a free floating witch, she wants his body. Maybe she can't be stopped, but could be redirected?

The Earth aspect is one I haven't really been able to figure out yet. (Are pavonis a type of pasta?) But maybe there's a destiny or something that Damon needs to fulfil first.

12. Lyall could have been pranking, but maybe he knows a different organization like that... or maybe that's the name of some mystery file on his computer that he hasn't been able to open because the Cadence inside him hasn't revealed the password, oooh. I think Lyall can trust Claire (assuming she's not a raving lunatic) and she might even need him to provide better cover (she didn't seem to even know what apartment she was in)... but that's short term. Long term is another question, if she starts getting Apus directives saying to do things he wouldn't agree with.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

This is all so interesting ;3;

Pavonis as a type of pasta, lolol

mathtans

I'm glad it's more interesting than rambly.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Nah, I love it XD I'm afraid I'd give spoilers if I said anymore lmao

RebelVampire

My theories about Damon's past are that he's a werewolf. And that something about being a werewolf has changed how he ages compared to Xerfonos - thus why they're the same age but not twins. Granted I guess they could also just be half brothers who have a shared father who said, "Man I should knock two girls up at once." But werewolf sounds more interesting. No I think we've established Lyall is clearly the witch. He is too suspicious. Tasha probably is a super secret agent or something, hence the suspicion. Maybe Apus is into some shady shit that Tasha knows about, especially Draco, so she doesn't want them jumping in on everything. As for how proof, she won't. Cadence will reveal she's Lyall when the most damage can be caused and Claire will weep her career as a detective is through. Cadence might just think Damon is hot. Although I think Damon has a grand destiny ahead of him, and Cadence wants to interfere with that destiny while also bulking up on some of that tasty werewolf energy. Also, can Cadence be stopped? Probably. But definitely not by these chumps right now. XD Lyall reacted strangely cause that was the Cadence in him going oh shit and kind of taking over. And sure, Lyall can trust Claire to never figure out its him. Sorry Claire, you hot, but clearly aren't noticing some stuff.

mathtans

I hadn't considered the "same father different mothers" angle. O.o Maybe it was a sperm donation sort of thing though?

As to Claire, maybe Tasha will be nice enough to buy Claire ice cream and give her snuggles once she realizes the error of her ways.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Tasha and Claire will get to snuggling at some point I'm sure XD

The same father with different mothers sounds most probable

of what's been mentioned at least

mathtans

I mean, time travel could also be involved. What with Apus.

Maybe Claire is Damon's daughter and she's trying to protect her own existence.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Maybe Claire is Xerfonos' mother

Wait, I don't think that'd work out lmao

Daughter would be way more probable

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I look forward to getting a bit further into the story XD it's still pretty early on atm and there's a lot of really good scenes later. I don't feel like we've really gotten to know Damon yet either

RebelVampire

I am looking forward to seeing people's theories as the story continues and pieces fall into place. It will be interesting to see the routes people take with the ideas of what the answers are going to be. My final words are just read the comic. O_O

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I didn't end up having any brain power to write responses over the week, but I really enjoyed Ring Spell. Damon and his brother are cuties, Claire seems very capable, and I can't wait to find out what Tasha's motives are. I'm real excited to see how the themes of magical marital vows come to the forefront :3

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Thank you~!

mathtans

Busy weekend was busy. Looking forward to seeing how the Apus thing fits in, like is Claire even from their time period? Will Lyall spill all the secrets? Will the ships happen? I'm so behind in all my reading but I've flagged it to check back when I can.

There was also the bit at the start implying knowing people from other lives, but the time travel possibilities make that weird. And I guess there's also the question of whether a Ring will have a Spell on it. Like, maybe the witch doesn't know she's the witch while she's wearing a ring? Or they have to get her to wear a ring? Here I am guessing again. ^^

14. To conclude, all the best with it, looks like a good setup. I do enjoy the art style too.

Also I guess congrats on being the finale CTP? Nice that you got it in there. Good initiative.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Thank you so much Math~!

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Ring Spell this week! Please also give a special thank you to Artem Ficta for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Ring Spell, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: http://ring-spell.com/

Artem Ficta’s Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/artemficta

Artem Ficta’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/ArtemFicta

#ctparchive #webcomics #indie comics #comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic bookclub #webcomic book club #comic tea party #ctp #ring spell #artem ficta

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