#aesthetics or something about it has piqued an interest for me to observe it. to see what it's like or how it plays out. how the idea

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know multiple of these are likely important to people, but I'm asking in terms of like - which of these do you tend to focus on the MOST, enjoy the most, that is most essential for you to actually care about the media, etc.?

(For example: someone finding "Relatability" most important would likely not enjoy a show much if they have trouble empathizing with the characters/relating to it, even if it were good otherwise. Or, someone might be able to overlook bad acting and ugly costumes, as long as the Character Dynamics are fun to them, because they value that more than Aesthetics- while for others, bad costumes would be a dealbreaker.)

Also feel free to reblog and explain your answer or more information in the tags- I've always been curious about people's relationships to media, how they conceptualize it/what they get out of it, how some people value some parts more than others, how that informs their overall taste and genres they may be more inclined towards, etc. :0c

#I was having a conversation with a friend about our favorite type of media and they said the reason they DON'T like historical or fantasy #media or etc. is because they can't imagine themselves being in those situations like it's too detached from anything that they can relate #to personally. they put themselves in the shoes of the characters and apparently like feel emotions while watching stuff and actually #get into the way the characters are feeling so they kind of judge how 'good' or 'bad' a show's writing/setting/etc. are by how it makes #them feel and if they think the characters reacted realistically based on what they were feeling in the moment/what in their head they #would be feeling if they were in the postion of the character. SO apparently the distance of it being in an unrelatable setting or too #detached from our reality makes it harder for them to relate to and less able to really engage with it on that level. WHEREAS I watch #things exclusively in a very like.. detached way?? I'm INTERESTED.. it's like im intellectually analyzing everyhting that's happening and #can be intrigued by events but it's not in an emotional way? More of like a distant 'intellectual curiosity'. Maybe the premise or the #aesthetics or something about it has piqued an interest for me to observe it. to see what it's like or how it plays out. how the idea #is executed or etc. But like.. I cannot remember EVER really relating to any character or situation or projecting onto a character #or having those sorts of feelings or investment in it. That is just not a central part of why/how I watch things or what I care about #BUT after this I was thinking maybe this is my disconnect? I do not seem to conceptualize media the way some other people do and I often #walk away with an entirely different take on things. etc. So I wonder if maybe it's part of how everyone values different things probably? #maybe I literally just watch stuff and percieve it from a different frame of mind that others. More of a like detached curiosity #vaguely bemused analysis mode. Instead of a 'I am deeply emotionally invested in this and am feeling for all the characters' mode #And also I bet people who care more about plot/story are also the people who mind spoilers. Whereas for me I literally seek out spoilers #intentionally because that element of 'suprise ooh what will happen next!' is not central at all to my enjoyment. I could know literally #everything that will happen and still can find it interesting to observe - since for me #that's not the point. I'd rather know the ending so I can determine whether I want to invest the time in it in the first place. etc. #ANYWAY!! If I had to choose - I would say I'm usually heavily focused on world details and aesthetics. With only a slight preference #towards characters individually being interesting. Group dynamics can sometimes be okay but I get tired of everything being about relations #hips and romance - especially when sometimes it seems to be like. people who could not stand on their own as a character/are fundamentally #boring otherwise lol. I would watch a series of just one guy locked in a closet talking to himself as long as he was interesting and saying #things that were amusing or notable for some reason lol. I actually tend to dislike plot because most 'plot heavy' things like action focus #ed shows ALWAYS feel to me like they're moving so fast just to get from one thing to another that I'm not getting enough details. Part of #why I tend to not like movies. the time limit makes them too quick. I need a 95 hour expostion dump of the history of the entire world #and a series of 17 episodes straight where a guy is trapped in a room & the audience is just psychoanalyzing him. hghj.. Maybe I find all #characters annoying/unrelatable bc people w my personality type make bad characters/are not often represented (or are done BADLY). so then #I'm just picking 'who is the LEAST insufferable? who could i study like a lab rat?' whilst my main focus is the worldbuilding&costumes lol

[10shi-256]

Why did I make this blog?

I've fallen into a habit that many people are guilty of, and, in fact, we are essentially being socially engineered into adopting this habit as a standard set of behavior. I do feel like there is some intentional mechanism steering us towards this behavior, turning us into socioeconomic and political cattle that can be herded one way or another. This gluttony for aesthetics has bottlenecked our intrinsic creative cycles and, in some cases, killed our empathy in pursuit of feeding that hunger.

Allow me to explain in reverse. I believe that the "creative cycle" is a simple loop of production and consumption. We input (read:consume) raw data. Information. Everything we intake with our senses is stored in some way in our minds. But it's not solidified yet. We know what these things are but we don't know how to feel about it. The concepts of the things we have experienced remain in a plastic form until we output (read: produce) a simulacrum of our experiences as only we can relate them, through our unique perspectives. But something has now changed. The version of that concept as we have output it is different than the fundamental, mutable concept that was in our heads. The concept solidifies into the image that we have produced. This is how we process any information we receive, even on the simplest level. Take, for instance, a flower you've observed on a walk. You see it, and it compels your thoughts. "That's a really pretty flower." The action of putting that thought into words is an act of production, no matter how simple. Why use the word "pretty" in place of "beautiful," "alluring," or "captivating?" Why is it a "really" pretty flower, instead of a "very" pretty flower? or just a "pretty" flower? It is healthy and necessary to say what we mean and mean what we say, therefore we should not shy away from eloquence.

So what happens when this cycle that defines the post-industrial human condition is interrupted? When we become stuck in an endless phase of consumption, we lose our ability to convey how we feel about anything, and thus lose our ability to know and understand the world around us. We essentially lose our souls. But who would do such a horrid thing?! Simply, anyone who wants to sell you something with no risk of you deciding for yourself that this isn't something you want to buy. Someone who wants to guide your thought into a direction that you would have otherwise judged against. They would have us become puppets, sheep, opiated masses, whatever ages-old allegory you're more familiar with.

When we scroll for hours, mindlessly sharing things that pique our interest without using that information for anything productive, we are building that dam more and more solidly. It must be broken. So I would like to begin breaking the dam I've built for myself. I want to surf the internet more slowly. When I come across something that piques my interest, I want to dive in and explore its fullest depths and understand why my interest is piqued, what can I do with my newfound knowledge, and hopefully inspire someone else with the research I've gathered. This will be my space to do so. My greatest hope? To invite someone to a dialogue and compare my perspective with theirs. Sharing and exchanging ideas is how we continue to grow internally. I don't ever want to stop growing.

#first post #philosophical musings

[weaselandfriends]

hi, i had a casual question if you don't mind answering it. would you say that NGE has had any influence on your work? some examples of your writing that made me think this were primarily Terminatrix 405 from Chicago and chapter 12 "I need you." from CxC. of course, the latter is identical to the EoE title card, so the homage seems direct enough. the conclusion of kyosuke and yuria in the airlock, alone and surrounded by space, is aesthetically similar enough to the "hellbeach" (your words not mine, hah) of EoE's last scene. but a lot of that chapter seemed reminiscent of instrumentality, just with the psychosexual aspect being turned into actual text with the explicit rp. and 405's "senseless coagulation of souls" piqued my interest during a reread due to the way sage asserts her selfhood by using her memories of aurora. kinda reminded me of asuka clinging to the presence of her mother during her final battle.

of course, i'm really not trying to imply your work is derivative! it's just that you've spoken about liking EoE and it was sorta fun trying to find any similarities while reading.

PS. sorry about not having any art this time. was trying to decide between drawing murrie and hemet hanging out, or a few outfits for sister in the style of a dress-up doll game. any preference?

Eva had an influence on my work in an unusual way. I first learned of the existence of Eva in college when a group of people in my dorm were watching the climax of the second Rebuild film in the common area. Knowing nothing else about the series, what really stood out to me was how the story would keep cutting from the kids piloting the mechs to the control room where three generic-looking characters in beige uniforms would spout technobabble and give reactions to the mech fight. For some reason I really liked the vibe of the control room and wanted to write a story where the most important characters were people observing the action from afar and trying to influence it by relaying instructions over radio. This idea eventually crystallized into a novel I wrote in 2012 about Luxembourg.

I didn't actually watch Eva until after I wrote Fargo about 4 years later. While I do like it in general and think EoE is excellent, I don't think it's had as much of a conscious influence on my later works compared to what the half-glimpsed back half of Rebuild 2 had to my Luxembourg novel. The Kyosuke and Yuria scene is actually influenced by another thing I only kinda saw once in college when someone else played it in the common area, that thing being Xenosaga. All I know about Xenosaga is that there's a female android named KOS-MOS and that there are enemies that turn people into pillars of salt in reference to Lot's wife, and that was the technological-religious blend that I was specifically thinking of when I wrote that scene. Eva also blends sci-fi with religious iconography, so it's easy to see connections there as well, but Eva's bent is more cabbalistic in nature. Royce does explicitly name drop Eva in one of his spiels, though.

For me, it's a lot easier to be consciously influenced by things that I have barely heard of than things that I have seen a lot or care deeply about. You never want to feel derivative and by pulling ideas I like out of stuff I only have a basic conceptual understanding of, it feels less like I'm ripping something off, because I'm being influenced by general broad strokes rather than specific character and plot beats. Ironically, this can sometimes lead to my references being accidentally more overt than intended; multiple people have pinpointed that the x.Nihilo scene is modeled on Xenosaga, for instance.

As for art, you don't need to apologize for not having drawn something! I always appreciate your art and love to see it, but I'm also glad just to get some nice asks to answer. I'm interested in your "dress-up doll game" idea, mostly because I'm not sure what that would look like exactly. Although I also enjoy your interest in Murrie, because I think she's an interesting character herself despite her being a bit less prominent than the other two main characters of Chicago.

[anomalyarchives]

chapter 1: the anomaly

Today I woke up and found myself in an unfamiliar reality. In this reality I am human, or at least human-like. I have human tendencies and urges and thoughts and body parts. I check to see if I can move my fingers and toes. They seem to be in working order. I notice a green light source coming from above and tilt my head to find a shiny green diamond floating above me. What is the meaning of this?

I look around and realize I’m in a quaint little house of some description. Is this where I live? Before I could further question my situation I’m in, I hear a knock at the door. I hesitantly unlock the front door, which squeaks when it swings open. Three friendly looking humans stand at my porch, one of them holding a plate of fruitcake.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” greeted the fruitcake-deliverer.

I invited three neighbors into my home and learned their names. Summer, Liberty, and Travis. I mainly spoke with Liberty, who seemed to be the most awkward of the trio, so she doesn’t feel left out. We shared a salad I had prepared, and fruitcake of course. My paranoia made me wary of these three at first. I thought perhaps the fruitcake was poisoned. But I soon learned they were no threat.

After a few hours of lovely conversation, I said goodbye to the trio. I hastily documented my experiences with them on my computer. I haven’t forgotten my purpose here: to learn all I can about this reality. The people, the locations, everything. And since I’m the Anomaly, I have the power to change and disrupt the natural progression of this reality. The laws of the universe, time, space, logic and reason, they are all at my mercy.

But I’m not like other Anomalies. I don’t wish to disrupt reality unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want to destroy, or cause chaos and ruin. I only wish to learn and observe, and let it be. So I left my house and set out to uncover the secrets of this reality, starting with the local park.

I met a kind young lady, and I regret not getting her name. But we had a lovely chat over a game of chess. Once I felt like I’ve earned her trust, I asked her who are the most influential people around these parts. She seemed put off by my odd question, but responded anyway.

“There’s the Landgraabs, who control just about every business and corporation in the region. The Caliente sisters are notorious for starting relationship scandals. There’s also a new family that moved in, the Navidsons, who claim to come from a long line of singers and musicians. And of course, there’s Bella Goth.”

I waited for her to explain further, but she stopped there. It’s as if she expected me to know who that was.

“Bella Goth?”

The young woman nodded. “Yeah, her family has been around for ages. She’s a people person and a socialite, but somehow, her life is shrouded in mystery. The most we know about her is from gossip. Some say she was abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone. Others claim that Bella Goth isn’t her real identity and that her family is in witness protection.”

My interest is piqued. I think I found my first person of interest in my mission to learn more about this reality.

“Where can I find out more about Bella?”

—

Ophelia Villa is the name of the home in which the Goth family had resided for generations. It’s dark, looms over the other homes, and quite fittingly has a gothic aesthetic. In the kitchen, a woman dressed in red is finishing up dinner for her husband and two kids, the eldest of whom will be turning 18 very soon. But instead of thinking of her daughter’s coming of age, her mind is fixated on her work as a secret agent. What she learned today was troubling, and she can’t figure out what to do about it. She shakes her head, and carries the plate of pasta al limone to the dining room, where her family awaits.

“Bella, my dear,” her husband spoke. “You look like your mind is in the clouds. Is something bothering you?”

The woman chuckles, and takes a bite of her zesty pasta.

“It’s just something work-related.”

Her eldest daughter chimed in with concern. “Did you get in trouble again?”

Bella shook her head. “No dearest. But we discovered something strange happening here in Willow Creek. We don’t know if it’s related to what’s happening in StrangerVille or if this is an isolated case.”

“What happened?” asked the youngest son.

Bella hit her tongue. She knows better than to disclose her findings to her family, as it’s classified information. But she doesn’t want to worry them, or keep them in the dark. They deserve to know what’s happening in their own backyard. She decides to fill them in on the gist of the situation, but she must choose her next words carefully.

“There’s been a… disruption in the neighborhood. An outside force is threatening— I mean, could threaten our daily lives. But don’t worry, we’re trying to find the source of it.”

The youngest son put his fork down. He wasn’t the least bit reassured by his mother’s words.

“Are we all going to die?” he asked bleakly.

Bella cracked a small smile and shook her head. “No, my dear. That’s not going to happen. You don’t have to worry about this outside force, okay?” She stood up from her seat and started to collect everyone’s plates. “Besides, everyone is on the case. The military and even spellcasters are on standby. We’ll be perfectly safe.”

The husband still wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but he knew he had to put on a brave face for the children. “Yes, your mother is as capable as she is beautiful. She won’t let this force disrupt our lives.”

Bella grinned at his compliment. “Of course not. After all, this isn’t my first encounter with an Anomaly.”

NEXT EPISODE —>

#anomaly archives #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 story #chapter 1

[saudade-mayari]

Hello Luna!! 💜 I'd like to request service 2, room 9 with Kakashi and a gn! reader. Only other specifications are that the end implies it'll be more than a one night thing/reader has piqued Kakashi's interest

Come on in, check and join us at Hēdonē!

💳—Hēdonē VIP [3] || Inlove with a stripper

⇥ Kakashi Hatake x stripper!reader || wc: 1.8k

⇥ warnings: 18+ content, Luna went overboard with the word count, Lowkey wanna make this a chapter fic lmao, gn!reader, choking, ModernAU, BarAU, minors please dni

Genma and the rest definitely did not pick a place that would make him snap. It was surprisingly aesthetically huge. The purple neon lights flickering around the area perfectly dimmed the entire bar, its loud bases are never an issue since the DJ is playing a pretty decent song, there’s a small area in which customers can peacefully dine and it was separated from the alcoholic beverages. Decent is definitely not the term and Kakashi hands it to his peers for picking a high-end one.

“You still won’t get me someone tonight.” He answered which made Asuma and the rest grin in response.

“Just try it. Besides, remember the rule? Only come to a stripper’s club once. That way we’ll hold no affection. Although money is not the issue, Mr. Rich-bachelor, we don’t want to run around their palms and waste your money right?” Genma said as he sat down on the couch, close to the stage just directly in front of the pole.

He just sat there, not even ordering any beverages while he watched his friends laugh, and being served by ladies at the club. A slight smile came across his face, Kakashi still cares for his friends more than anyone and he is glad that his peers are definitely enjoying this night, although not on his case. The longer the time passed, Genma and the rest disappeared one by one, leaving Kakashi on the couch alone.

The lights turned off, red neon lights appeared near the poles, and a silhouette of a person delicately holding the pole as you walked around the stage.

For a moment, he stopped whatever he is doing. Something about it got his attention. As the sensual music played, your face started to get clearer in his view. His eyes are fixed to yours as you start working your way around the pole.

It was technical but sultry. Something about it made Kakashi lay back on the couch and fully watch you. You glanced at the silver-haired man, observing you as if you are his target. A small smirk came across your face as the chorus played, staring back at him not in a sense of seducing but rather a sense of not backing down on his cold stares.

Bold and fierce, Kakashi had thought.

As the music ended, applause echoed around the area and it was soon replaced by a piece of livelier music to put back the rhythm. He sighed. There it goes again, ladies once again persuading him.

“I said no.” He said. Not looking at the one actually serving the drink.

“You’re getting picked on by the staff. Mostly because your friends asked the manager about it. They won’t stop if there’s at least one person to serve you drinks.” He looks up, his dark orbs once again meeting yours. Kakashi was shocked but not entirely shaken.

“I was just ordered to do this as well. Always ordered to. They saw you’re about to pay but you stopped when I stood on the stage.”

Kakashi glanced at your face. You’re not like the others.

That’s one thing he is sure about.

The way you held your chin high and might as if you were protecting your own ego and pride made him curious about you.

“Double whiskey. The most expensive one.” He plainly said.

Trademark of clacking heels coming closer to him as you poured him his order. He was stoic. Silent and cold. It's obvious that he was just forced to enter this place.

“So are you going to offer me a room as well?” He said, smug and almost a scoff.

“Orders are orders. I’m in no way interested in you as well. Don’t worry.” Your response took him aback. You really are bold and fierce.

“Actually, I am asking for a room. Highest rate or whatsoever. I want a quiet time and you aren’t pushy.” His statements made you look back at his side profile. Now that is a shocker. Given that the silver-head man looked absolutely dashing but it was obvious that he’s a bachelor too. On top of that, his friends personally requested to have ladies serve him.

“Shoot your shot. I’ll give you all the alone time you want.”

As you stood to inform the manager about it, most of the staff gave you an appalling look. Gossips once again emerged around the four corners of the room the moment you dropped that the silver-haired man booked a room for you. The highest rate. His status must not be a joke.

The room was big. There was a soft bed that has a little distance between the couch and TV. A perfect distance for you and him.                            

“What’s your name?” He said as he stared around the room.

“Stripper name? Real name?” You teased

“Real one.”

There was a moment of silence. Not a single customer ever asked for your real name. All they want is to take advantage of you because they paid for your service. Let alone from a man who booked the highest rate just to escape the ladies persuading him. You let out a genuine smile. Glancing over to him who’s already staring at you.

“Y/n. L/n Y/n.”

Kakashi nodded. Still standing by the door as you assist him take off his coat which he surprisingly didn’t object to. Your bodies were close and you just realized how tall he was. The slight touch of his broad shoulders is a living proof of how built he is.

“Kakashi. Hatake Kakashi.” He said. Low and husky, the smell of the expensive whiskey lingering around your face as you stared at his well-defined jaw. Kakashi cannot help but stare at your e/c orbs as well. You were stunning.

A mixture of natural and sultry. No one would even notice that you’re a stripper in this place.

His hands subconsciously went on your waist as if he was pulling you closer to his body, igniting the unknown heat in your system. Something about it enthralls you. Perhaps excitement? Or is it just he was not like the filthy customers you had before.

“Nice meeting you, Kakashi.” You whispered back. His face was now closer to yours as his lips slowly traced your earlobes, tightening his grip on your waist. You chuckled at his response.

“Looks like you’re not allowing yourself for some alone time Kakashi.”

He let out a low chuckle as his lips finally met yours. He had no idea what he was doing. Just something about it made Kakashi pull himself closer to you.

“Perhaps.” He answered as Kakashi once again dominated your lips. It was surprisingly slow and hard but it’s never aggressive. He was almost a mixture of being gentle and rough. Your thoughts eluded when his tongue explored your lips, making you moan in response as he lightly pushed you to the bed.

Your clothes weren’t hard to remove however, the sultry lace hugging your body somewhat allured Kakashi. It felt different when he saw you wearing it. You gave him a small smile.

“Let me help.”

You slowly took off his necktie, next is you unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his chiseled body, he is definitely a built person. You hesitated when your hands reached the buckle of his belt. A slight fear came across your face.

Kakashi noticed. He held your hand as he once again pushed you on the bed giving you a kiss on the forehead. “Do you have a safeword?”

“None. Customers pretty much do whatever they want since they paid for us.” It came out as a bitter response and the answer that Kakashi desperately wanted to know already came into pieces.

You were forced to work here.

“Tempura. I hate it so make it your safeword. I’ll stop if you feel uncomfortable. Do not hesitate.” He kissed your lips. Everything is cloudy. Why would someone like him do that? You’re a stripper. They were all cruel and abusive, but Kakashi is different.

He is gentle and caring.

You finally wrapped your arms around his neck the moment he took off his remaining clothes. His hardened member sliding on your thighs made you wet. He was huge.

“Kakashi…” You moaned as he kissed your neck, sucking and licking it. He was owning you. It made you hold his surprisingly soft silver locks. He groaned by your touch, his movements were suddenly hasty. Thoughts of being inside you completely dominated his mind.

His hands snaked down to your thighs, spreading your legs wide as he caressed sex, throwing yourself back in ecstasy.  

“So beautiful…” He remarked. Looking at you as he put on the condom.

Kakashi’s strong arms encircled and held you tightly and tenderly. His lips once again dominating yours as if you were addicting. He took your hands and placed them on either side of his face, looking at your e/c orbs.

“Remember. Safeword.” He said with concern.

“Tempura. I know.”

Kakashi began to move again. Slowly penetrating your sex. Your nails dug deeper on his back, pushing him closer and harder than it was. Your eyes closed with all the feelings of intoxication.

“I… Kakashi fuck.”

Moans escaped on your mouth as he began thrusting at a medium pace. Your body flinched when lust completely took over your system. He could feel your sex spasm around his fullness, you were screaming his name, all in pleasure.

“You want it deeper don’t you…” He teased. Making you moan louder, words are suddenly hard to construct and all you ever did was scream his name.  

His hands reached your neck, his large hands putting pressure on it. He bucked up onto you faster and harder with each thrust. For a moment, you thought your body would come apart, it never felt anything so intense and at the same time, gentle.

He is treating you with care.

“Fuck I... I’m close.” He groaned. Thrusting harder on your dripping sex. Both of you are lost in the pleasure, feeling each other ready to explode. Loud moans escaped as you both feel your release.

Both of you straddled in the bed dazed and confused. What now? He was typing something on his phone. Perhaps his friends are finding him and soon enough a loud ringing of phone calls echoed across the room.

“Where are you? What about Genma? Damn it. You just can’t take care of yourself don’t you.” He said continuously, annoyed and mad.

He sighed and pressed the end call.

“It’s okay if you have to leave.” You said. It sounded dry. Sad? Or even bitter. You wished there was something more. You wished to be with him more.

Kakashi stared at you with the same intensity of longing and yearning. Without hesitations, he pulled you closer to him as he once again kissed your lips.

Something about you makes it hard for him to leave the room. What if someone booked you again and abuse you? He never wanted to see that fear in your eyes again.

Not on his watch.

“I’ll come back. I’ll meet you properly this time, I promise.”

Copyright ©️ 2021 gmoonlight01. Do not repost/modify.

#💳—luna.hedone #kakashi #kakashi hatake #naruto #anbu kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi hatake x reader smut #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x y/n #naruto fandom #naruto imagine #naruto x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi imagines #kakashilovestory #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake smut #icha icha paradise #icha icha tactics #naruto imagines #kakashi sensei

[1magine-engine]

Obey Me: MC is Hiding Something

When MC first awakens in the council room no one thinks much of them. They’re sitting there shivering like a dog left out in the rain and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.

Lucifer starts to wonder what in devil’s name made you a good candidate for this exchange program. You barely had enough courage to answer when Lord Diavolo welcomed you so graciously, much less look dignified in any way.

Something odd he does observe though is, despite your silence and obvious terror, you seemed to accept the concepts of a Devildom and of RAD and him and his brother very easily or maybe you were just nodding along insipidly.

Mammon’s opinion of you is even lower. He already hated the idea of having to watch and make sure some stupid human didn’t get themselves killed on their first week. Damn it! That wasn’t his job! They can’t even carry a conversation, always just staring and watching everybody.

The human doesnt seem to have any kind of motivations or idea as to what they wanna do. Lucifer will never know if he leaves you alone at school for a while considering you’ve found your friends group with the other exchange students. And at home he sees no problem with letting you go off for just an hour or two. All you really do is walk around and examine the rooms and grounds. Maybe you’re an architecture freak or something.

Leviathan barely pays you any mind when you arrive, not like he ever has the chance to, being that he never leaves his room outside of going to class. But during breakfast he does notice how interested you seemed in the game console he’s playing on. And for a moment he wonders if you’re a gamer or an otaku too

but no, ugh you’re just some normie. You watch Asmo obsess over his compact mirror and Satan over whatever book he’s holding just the same. And you’re conversation is shit like Mammon said. Listless and lacking enthusiasm. But he doesnt stop you when you watch over his shoulder when he plays.

Satan doesn’t have a problem with you. That said, he doesn’t particularly like you. But he can respect how much time you seem to spend in the library, and how many books you borrow about the devildom and kinds of demons. It made sense, you wanted to know the kind of creatures you were surrounded by.

he does wonder though, why one day you seem to be borrowing a lot of Solomon’s books and Solomon’s time as well. But then again, that makes sense too, you were both human after all. Maybe you would stop flinching and get even a little more comortable with someone your race around. When one of his tomes disappear, he interrogates Mammon because of course, it’s Mammon.

Asmo likes your style. It’s not particularly glamorous or eye-catching but it matches your aesthetic. He especially admired your choices in acessories. The amulet you’re always wearing is so pretty and he swears sometimes it almost glows. And your rings were peak Devildom fashion, sharp, edgy iron designs. But he especially adored the silver spike earring you wore.

He was both delighted and smug that he was the first one to get a little closer to you. But of course, how could you resist! You even complimented the perfume he was wearing and asked where he got it. And he directed you to his favorite oils and essences shop that supplied products and ingredients from every realm. And while applying some to your wrist he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from under your sleeve but you pull your hand away, bashful. Oh, he’ll get you to show him someday. Heehee.

Beel is curious how a human can eat so much. He’s been told human athletes apparently eat a lot to maintain muscle mass and strength and the like but looking at you, you didn’t seem the type to do anything strenuous. Except he does notice that when a demon bumps you in the hall, you’re not hurt or thrown off despite the size difference. And when you’re purposely knocked into by someone else, your reaction is fast, pivoting out of the way and behind the demon and you almost look like...

Nah. You weren’t going to attack him, you began to cower and apologize again and again until Mammon had to drag you way before it got any more embarrassing. The next time you pique his interest is at the gym in the house. You always make sure to go at a time when there isn’t anyone else and he happened to go after you. But it couldn’t have been you that just used that machine. Were you really capable of lifting that much?

Luke and Simeon are sympathetic, Simeon understands the discomfort and the adjustment and answers any questions you have about the brothers and how not to piss them off or placate them if ever you did make them angry. He answers your questions about RAD and the program but does wonder. Wherever did you get an angel relic like the one hanging from your ear?

Luke says you shouldn’t be afraid of those no good demons, if anything happens you can run to Purgatory Hall and they’ll help. He promises. He likes your company and starts up baking with you, teaching dishes and pastries. He tells you a lot about Michael and lets slip things about Lucifer and the brothers back when they were still angels. You don’t push him on the subjects but you do seem pretty interested.

it all came together, very easily. First the lights, Leviathan’s screams echo in the halls as he laments not having saved soon enough. Asmodeus’ whining about losing such good selfie lighting came next and both come out into the hall, yelling for their older brother. “Lucifer!”

If not for that, Lucifer probably wouldn’t have noticed, having been locked up in his firelit office since dinner was over. Heaving a sigh he gets up. All of the yelling told him the lights were out so how could he have expected the brilliant flash of white that burned his eyes when he opened his door. He stumbles, leaning on the door frame for support as footfalls race down the hall.

He growls, feeling his wings and horns materialize but something isn’t right. His vision doesn’t return and his skin starts to burn. In the air he catches the faintest scent of something he hasn’t smelled in a long time. Holy oil.

When the little light in the fridge fades, Beel thinks he may have fucked up. But then it turns out the whole house is out so it must just be some prank. He keeps eating, uncaring whether or not he identifies what it is he’s shoveling into his mouth. Then he smells it.

once upon a time he’d caught Luke with some kind of cookies from the celestial realm. And they were some of the best cookies he’d ever had in his existence. He could never forget that smell, so when it wafts through the air coming from the main hall, he follows. Drool begins to gather beneath his tongue.

He misses the sharp, metallic scent drifting beneath it.

Satan’s vexation spikes when his reading light goes out and his peace and quiet is distrubed by his idiot brothers. Mammon probably tried to turn the power off in Levi’s room to get him out so he can sneak in and steal his stuff again. But then Asmo starts yelling, and one cry from Lucifer rattles his bones.

It’s enough to get him on his feet. But what draws a gasp from him is the flash of lightning that gives him his sight for a moment. White lightning, an impossibility in the devildom’s ever red tinged sky. He goes to the window, knocking a stack of tomes over and unlatches it. But it doesn’t budge. Using the light on his D.D.D. he tries again but it just won’t open.

Outside Satan’s door heavy footsteps, thump along in a slow rhythm. Satan races to the door and Beel is there trudging along the carpet like a zombie, his nose perched in the air.

“Beel?! What the-? What are you doing?”

“Hey what’s the big idea!? Where are you guys!? Who’s doing that weird singing?!”

Mammon calls out into the mansions, just as confused as everyone else. Satan’s brows furrow; he didn’t cause this, then. He’s about to answer but Mammon yelps, and a resounding thwack has Satan grab Beel, and race towards the sound, almost stumbling over each other’s feet in the dark. They’re only guide is the ocassional flash of white and the sound of chanting growing louder as they grow near.

It is still pitch black but years of experience and spatial awareness tells him they’re in the foyer. Satan ventures out, almost tripping over something on the ground; it’s Mammon. He lays at the top of the steps, passed out. Satan is about to shake him awake when Leviathan and Asmo come out of a hall holding up Lucifer between them. Another flash. Lucifer’s demon form flickers in and out, smoke rising from his blistering skin. Satan freezes and Beel picks up Mammon in his arms.

“Satan! What the hell is going on!?” Levi calls out into the dark over the spell.

The chanting stops. So does the lightning and they’re plunged into complete darkness. They hear the sound of plastic and a baggie hits Beelzebub square in the chest, landing on Mammon’s stomach. “Cookies?”

He smells that first but then they recognise the other scent prominent in the air as blood.

Human blood.

“Wait, where’s MC?!” Asmo’s voice comes from the black. “Are they trapped somewhere?”

Someone laughs.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Lightning flashes again, bathing the foyer in glaring white. It’s only for a moment but their eyes are quick enough. It becomes clear where the stench of blood was coming from. “After all, I’m not trapped in here with you...”

Your eyes seem to glow, vacant of whatever fear or trepidation you’ve deceived them with for weeks. In your hand is the earring Asmo admired so much, the silver tip dripping red. At your side, your palm is sliced open, already clotting as you’ve used all you needed for the seal activating the devil’s trap around the entire house. Your sleeves are pushed up to the elbows the sigils and signs inked into your skin tasting air again after so long. As you place your hand on the seal they come alight. Your lips curl over your teeth.

“You’re trapped in here....with me.”

Solomon knows a demon slayer when he sees one. And he tells you right off the bat whatever you’re planning it isn’t a good idea. You’re outnumbered and overpowered by them.

but then he sees otherworldly magic light up the skies and decides maybe it’s a good time to visit the House of Lamentations.

Part 2

#obey me #shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me headcannons #obey me fic #merakiulous-k

[asclepius-erebus]

Nevarro

Title: Personal Eden (Ongoing)

Chapter 3: Nevarro

Rating: Mature (17+)

Word Count: 4.3k

TW: mentions of abuse (lmk if I should include any more!)

The next day, as anticipated, you land on Nevarro, where upon disembarking a flurry of droids scurry up to the ship.

“Hey!” Mando yells, paralyzing all the droids, “No droids!”

You learn that the baby is not in fact Mando’s, but a foundling he’d taken up first as a quarry but then adopted. You’re not sure what’s so special about this child, but for it to have a bounty over it’s head before it can intelligibly speak seemed cruel enough, and you don’t ask any further questions.

You also learned that Mando is a man of few words. He tends to keep his responses curt and to-the-point; and never straying away from the subject of conversation. From your observation, he has not gone onto tangents or disclosed any new information, willingly, that did not immediately pertain to the topic. It made it even more difficult for you to learn anything new about him, his character, humors, and appearance. He is a complete mystery, and yet you find him fascinating all the while he continues to intimidate with both his outward appearance, and lack of openness.

The day on Nevarro is grey despite the sky being totally clear. The landscape isn’t strikingly beautiful like some of the other planets you’ve been on with Malsifer. It’s gritty, dusty, and terribly suffocating. The air feels dense and warm, that kind that made you feel sticky and uncomfortable. The sky is a dull blue, but blue nontheless.

Since joining Mando on his ship, he’d allowed you the time to wash off the caked on makeup from the other night, some of which you’d cried off, like your ruby red lips. It was a nice color, you were fond of how well it complimented your skin and the shape of your lips- but it had overstayed its time on your face and it was time for it to go.

However, upon stepping onto the rough planet, you realize how out of place you appear to be. Not only is the green alien child perched on your hip and babbling to himself, but you’re still dressed in what Mando had rescued you in a few days ago. The wispy fabrics fluttered in the subtle warm breezes, carrying with them the muted but bright colors of an oceanside sunset of lavender, magenta, and gold. You felt exposed among the muted and dark colors that Mando and his child limited themselves to, sticking out like a sore thumb.

Mando’s child begins to fuss, deciding that he wanted to meander around in the dirt as Mando took a few steps towards an unfamiliar man. The man is of a darker complexion, though his beard and hair suggests he is of a wiser age, and extended a friendly hand to shake. They must already know each other.  

The child giggles and laughs, grasping and tossing any rocks he finds on the ground. You crouch to his level, structuring his play by tossing him back the rocks he’d thrown. From this, he giggles excitedly.

~~

“Greef.” Mando greets the aging man, Greef Karga, approaching him at the opening to the city, densely lined with clay houses and open markets. It teems with a unique variety of inhabitants and passersby- like Mando, who does not stand out in the crowd as obviously as the brightly colored dresses his new acquaintance was dressed in. That, was something he’d address soon enough.

“Mando.” Greef smiles, eyes lighting up upon seeing the familiar helmet, “How are you old friend?”

Mando looks over his shoulder at his companions before returning his attention to Greef, “Surprised to be back. What are you doing out here?” He asks with a tired sigh.

Greef raises an inquisitive eyebrow, “I’m just as surprised to see you out here… Tying up a few loose ends. Who’s your new friend?”

Mando hooks his gloved fingers at the top of his chest plate, resting his arms casually over himself and relieving some of the weight of the Beskar on his shoulders, “That’s who I’m here to find some information about. She’s one of Malsifer’s.”

“Malsifer?” Greef’s eyes widen, “What is she? A quarry?”

Mando’s helmet shakes, “No, Malsifer was. Malsifer had an indentured servant situation and I need to know more about her… Anything would be useful, but especially any bank records.” Mando says quietly, sliding a small note with the name of his newest crewmate scribbled onto it.

Greef looks down at the note inquisitively, “Malsifer, huh? Doesn’t surprise me… He always rubbed me the wrong way… Though I’m not surprised that his luck, or lack of it, finally caught up to him.”

“She’s got no where to go. Is there any way you can find out anything about her that’s useful…?”

Greef looks between Mando and the cooing child and woman behind him, and then down at the name on the note, “Get back to me in an hour or two.”

~~

Mando turns to wave yourself and the baby to his side, the man with whom he was conversing with turning away and headed into the city.

“What was that about?” You ask, the baby occupying itself with a metal ball he’s produced from his bundle of clothing.

“Business.” He says briefly.

Business. You think to yourself, the most colorful response I’ve gotten since I boarded.

With the baby balanced on your hip, Mando navigates you both through the streets of a busy marketplace. Vendors line the streets and advertise their products and produce, crafts, and other items for sale, all ranging in complexity and beauty that you admire from a distance. The baby on your hip is thoroughly entertained with all the sights, sounds, and colors, teething on a pastry he managed to swipe off a vendor when they weren’t looking.

Of course you attract some attention. Not only did it not help that the baby you tote clearly is not yours, but your impractical and fluttering dresses had other passerby step and trip on them as you went- sending you a few gross side-eyes and raised eyebrows. You clutch what you can in your hands as you follow Mando’s glistening helmet through the crowd.

He approaches a stand fluttering with colorful fabrics, handcrafted designs embroidered to the hems of cloaks, dresses, and shirts. They’re all so pretty and wonderful to look at.

Mando begins a conversation with a middle aged woman at the stand in her native language, her weathered face and dark eyes glancing at you from time to time as Mando continues to explain something to her. She raises her hand and counts on her fingers as she explains something to him in response, Mando filling her palm with a few coins. Pleased, she nods and produces a neatly folded up wad of fabric. She extends it towards you with a forced but friendly smile.

“Something to cover yourself with for now…” Mando explains, “Later, on the ship, I can find you some clothes.”

Accepting the folded fabric, you briefly study its particular shade of purple. It’s dark and neutral, almost barely detectably purple should someone care enough and stare long enough at you. You unfold it to find an opening, and you slip it over your head, a hood catching on you as the rest of the fabric settles on your shoulders and over your torso. The baby gets caught in it too, but frees himself with a shake of his enormous head. It is a cloak, the fabric feeling pleasurably heavy on your figure and comfortable on your bare shoulders. It feels protective and warm, but breathable and completely functional as an everyday garment. Not only does it feel well, but it conceals you much better amongst everyone else.  

“I buy my cloaks off her.” Mando responds simply, the first time he’s shared a new fact about himself, “She’s also going to find you a pair of shoes.”

He’s right. Perhaps the pair of sandals tied at your ankles aren’t the best fit for a shoe to be blundering around planets with. It was certainly enough for the occasions you accompanied Malsifer to meeting his clients, and the extent of your time out in the elements was limited to barely nothing. Malsifer concerned himself more with whether you appeared to his liking and aesthetics.

The older woman returns, producing a short pair of dark brown leather boots of a matte finish. They are simple and easy to slip on, with no intricate buckles, zippers, or ties. They hug your feet comfortably and accomplishes all the criteria necessary for being a practical piece of footwear.

Mando glances around and hands the woman a few extra coins, nodding in thanks as she accepts them and waves kindly at the child on your hip.

“Thank you.” You tell Mando as the three of you walk away from the stand of fluttering fabrics. He doesn’t react, at least as far as you can observe from the faceless helmet that you looked at when speaking to him.

“We have some time before we meet up with Greef again.” Mando says, ignoring what you’d said, “We can-“

“-Take a look around.” You interrupt, your curiosity about the rest of the market piqued. Surely there were other useful and interesting things the three of you can look at other than the four metal walls of Mando’s ship.

Mando agrees, but you’re not necessarily sure if it was from acquiescence or genuine concurrence.

It is difficult to read him, you’ve noticed it bothering you, without any facial expressions and other visual cues to clue you into his mood. His body language was often also very grey and difficult to deduce. This is unlike what you’ve relied on in the past to understand and predict other people’s behaviors. Malsifer was an individual very prone to giving himself way via his expressions and tone of voice, which made it easier to clue you into how you should respond, if at all. It’s natural to rely on social cues in order to know how to respond to a given situation, but with Mando, it feels quite the contrary.

He strolls with you at a relaxed pace, his hand firmly placed on the hilt of his blaster he keeps attached to his waist.  

Your eyes flicker between his helmet and his hand. You’d seen him use his blaster with deadly precision, it drove you to tears to see the barrel trained at the space between your eyes. You hadn’t heard of stormtroopers being as accurate, and you question what he is, and what he represents. You can already deduce that he’s a bounty hunter, why else would he be looking for quarry? But why the child? Why the armor? And why the ship you’d finally observed to be very Old Republic.

“Mando-“ You begin to ask curiously…“Can I ask you a question?”… cautiously.

“Sure.” He says simply, his helmet turning to observe a long blaster rifle on display at a vendor.

“Where are you from?”

Mando’s helmet continues to follow the long rifle as he walks away, “No where. I was a foundling.”

“A foundling from where?” You ask again. “Who found you?”

“I don’t remember.” He says dryly, his gaze returning forward as he scans the vendors again till something catches his eye… visor.

“So then what’s with the armor?”

He stops midstride, and you sense that you’ve either said something wrong or insulted him in some way.

Your cheeks immediately feel like their burning despite the chill that raced down your spine. You blink back a million-and-one thoughts and possibilities on how he might respond. Was he mad? Dumbfounded? Absolutely furious? It’s too hard to tell. By the way he’d stopped and now turned his head towards you, your hands clench into a fist- not prepared to strike, but to brace.

He chuckles. He chuckles. Warmly, softly, and bemusedly, his modulated blitheness is musical and so incredibly comforting. You’re not sure how you should react. It’s not the reaction you’d braced yourself for. After all, you’d insulted him, didn’t you?

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never seen Mandalorian armor before?” He asks, resuming the slow pace he took beside you.

You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you resume walking a few paces behind him. The child, unbothered, continues to chew on the pastry and inquisitively looks between yourself and Mando.

“I’m surprised Malsifer never let you see one.” He says, “No wonder you seemed pretty scared when I was there.”

You’d kept your gaze down at your feet as you walked, feeling ashamed to ask a dumb question in the first place. Of course you knew what a Mandalorian was, but you’d only ever read about them in flimsi books you’d managed to smuggle in and out of Malsifer’s library. They seem downright fictional, down to their very demeanors of being militant and mute. It didn’t help that the only information accessible to you came in bound flimsi books that in itself was probably older than yourself or Malsifer’s combined existence. You’d never seen their armor, at least not the kind that Mando was sporting in pure Beskar and with a helmet that looked too much like a storm trooper’s. You’d sooner expect he was an ex-trooper, or someone who simply stole or bought their armor.

“It was terrifying.” You admit softly, “You, pointing a blaster in my face. Doesn’t help that you’ve got all that armor.”

You see his boots stop moving and turn towards you. You still keep your gaze down, distracting your hands with the child’s robes as the crumbs of his treat fell from his face.

“Look at me.” He says sternly, and you obey, looking up into his visor, “You need to… unlearn whatever this is.”

You chew your lip, intimidated by his presence so close and so powerful over you. You fight yourself and your nervous glances away from the glare of his visor.  

“I don’t know what Malsifer put you through, but here, with us… none of it.” He continues, “Can’t have you walking behind me like some shadow, not with my kid.” He takes a step back from you and turns away, but stops.

His shoulders drop and his demeanor softens, “You were walking next to me.” He says, awaiting for you meet him at his side, “You were saying…”

Meeting up with him, the child in your arms coos and reaches out to Mando, who scoops him up from your grasp and you hide your arms under the cloak. He is right, it’s different with Mando and his kid. This is an equal playing field where you’re a part of a cohort of other individuals just like you. Of course, Mando is the leader, he provides, flies, and protects. The new dynamic is refreshing, but old habits are hard to beat. Which isn’t a natural nor healthy response. But neither was being caned across your knees and shins if you didn’t do so.

Mando stops at a vendor selling a wide assortment of things. They all seem extremely random, from switchboards to datatapes to bacta kits. Perhaps these are things the vendor was able to scavenge off broken ships and droids, this isn’t the first time you’d seen scrap collectors try to sell off what they can’t trade at a refinery. You’ve heard of such beings called Jawas who are infamous for such scavenging, but you also know that they’re not entirely open to the idea of selling what they find.

Mando strikes up a conversation with the vendor, a tall and slender specimen with small black eyes and three digits on each of their four arms. They’re haggling, is what you can assume, as Mando shakes his head and points to a well-stocked bacta kit on the table. The vendor insists on a certain price, counting it off on his palms before accepting a deal with Mando’s budget. He swipes the bacta off the table, and tosses it.

You catch it and immediately hide it under your cloak. Mando notices, walking away from the vendor saying, “Keep that there, don’t want him noticing he let me take the wrong one.”

His dry friendliness is welcoming, it made you feel like you were walking with a friend rather than a tank. The child giddily had finished his snack and entertained himself with his metal ball, which now you’d deduced was from a switch or lever, likely coming from the cockpit of the ship.  

“So… your armor. Mandalorian?” You ask, keeping pace with him.

He nods, “Mandalorian.”

You think back to what you’d read about in the flimsis, “If I recall correctly, some Mandalorians choose to keep their helmets on? Or do all of you have to wear it all the time?”

Mando nods, “When I swore to the creed, I swore to keep my identity secret. It’s part of our code.”

“So ‘Mando’ isn’t your real name?” You ask.

“No.”

“So what is your name?”

“Mando.”

You furrow your brows, not wanting to press further. You admire the devotion, despite it frustrating you further. You wanted to learn more of him, but now you know that such learning can no longer pertain to his appearance, and you must now learn his character. Though it wasn’t the only thing weighing on your curiosity, you’ve already begun building his profile.

Like you’d learned during your time in hyperspace that he is a man of not-so-many words. He isn’t aptly good at beginning a conversation, and usually such conversations are limited to small talk on the basis of his work and ship… But that had been debunked when he disclosed that he gets his cloaks from the woman at the colorful stand, and joked to you about the bacta-kit hidden away under your cloak. You hope he will reveal more of himself to you with time. You’re patient enough for that.

You respect that his physical appearance as an extension of his anonymity. It’s not the only instance where you’ve experienced the sort of veiling that came with particular religions, cultural identities, and personal choices. It will be up to him to disclose what he wants and when- it would be rude of you to pester. It’s not your place.  

The three of you walk leisurely, stopping occasionally to look at something interesting at a stall before returning into the direction of the ship. In the distance, you observe the man from earlier standing and waiting for you, Greef, you remember Mando mentioning the name.

Mando hands you the child back into your arms, “Get back on the ship.” He instructs, and you nod, the baby beginning to doze off to sleep in your arms.

~~

“What did you find?” Mando asks taking a few steps towards Greef and out of earshot from his new crewmate.

Greef’s usually friendly smile is thin, “I found one result for her name, one that appears on an obituary. According to the systems, she’s technically dead.”

Mando exhales sharply, disappointed, and curiously tipping his head to the side, “So, what? How long has she been ‘dead’?”

“Five years.” Greef says bleakly, “And she has no digital footprints anywhere. No record of her ever even having an account to hold credits, or receipts from anywhere that she’s spent credits.”  

Mando looks back in the direction of his ship, watching you board the Razor Crest with the child in your arms, how tenderly you hold his head and attend to his sleepy babbling. This is unfortunate news, that Mando would need to tell you sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know what to do with her.” Mando admits quietly, your silhouette disappearing in the ship.

Greef clears his throat, “I know this is none of my business, but the baby seems to like her, it’s pretty obvious… Until she can figure things out on her own, she can stick around, learn a thing or two, and you’ll have someone who can take care of the kid when you have jobs.”

Mando nods, “This isn’t the first time Malsifer faked someone’s death just to drain their accounts?”

“It’s also not the first time he’s trapped pretty young girls into being his personal assistants.” Greef says, raising an eyebrow in Mando’s direction.

“He abused them.” Mando says, “If it wasn’t for their money, what else did he need them for?”

Greef shrugs, folding his arms across his chest, “Malsifer seemed like the controlling type… He liked being in control of anything and everything important to him which is money and power. I don’t think she was a part of anything more sinister, but I certainly wouldn’t rule it out.”

“I’ll find that out more when she feels like talking. Right now… I don’t know what to do with her.” Mando crosses his arms.

Greef looks back at the ship behind Mando and back to his visor, “Let her stay until she can figure something out for herself. She can be useful while you work, keep the ship and the kid safe while you’re out…”

Mando nods again in agreement, “It’s my only option right now. Thank you… for your help.”

Greef smiles, “Anytime, old friend.”

--

Mando appears on the ship shortly after you’d put the child to sleep in his shiny egg-like crib. He’d tired himself out from the morning shopping and was happily full of whatever pastry took him the entire walk to eat.

You’d put the bacta pack in the bacta kit soldered on the metal of ship and managed to clear out some of the dust that had blown into the hull while the door was open. You’d observed Mando’s ship to not only be Old Republic but also just old in general. Though it is in excellent flying condition for its age, it lacked in amenities that more modern ships had like touch-pads instead of buttons and actually finished floors and walls. Either Mando is a man of old fashion, or simply too preoccupied to take care of his ship like others do.

He is quiet, walking up and down the hull checking lights, buttons, datapads, and other things. While he did that, you patiently sit on the familiar wedge prepared to strap into the metal wall and prepare for take-off. Your hands occupy themselves with the hang nails that plague your fingers.

You see, from the corner of your eye, something tan and grey. Looking up, it was Mando, handing off to you a pile of clothing he’d gathered in his quiet pacing around the hull.

“Thank you.” You say softly, standing to get to the fresher.

Mando nods, “Meet me in the cockpit, we need to talk.” And he turns before you can ask any questions. He disappears up the ladder.

The cockpit? You think to yourself curiously, what in the worlds does he want to talk about?

The mirror in the fresher is just reflective enough to call itself a mirror. It clearly once existed as a piece of scrap that Mando had repurposed to decorate the blank wall above the sink. But it fulfilled its purpose in reflecting back the visage of yourself you present every day.

Today, you look tired.

Dark circles around your eyes hint at some much needed deep sleep and the tired squint you gave to yourself only emphasizes this.

You look at the clothing Mando handed to you, consisting of a large white shirt and some pants that definitely needed to be tailored to accommodate your height and lack of… lower… masculine features. These are clearly articles of clothing Mando has no use for, and you’re thankful for them despite Mando’s somewhat apparent reluctance.

You undo yourself from your dress, somewhat sad to see the magical colors fall to the floor in a wispy heap. This was healthy though, a transition into a different person. After all, you’re fulfilling the prophecy you’d begun to brainstorm the first night aboard the ship: a change of clothes.

The shirt is square, harsh but hemmed edges of fabric for sleeves, a collar, and buttons to secure said collar closed. It sat rather high on your neck, so you keep the first two buttons undone, one side of the collar falling open to reveal the raw edge of the hem. The sleeves were of a comfortable length, also squared off with a button for cuff-links that you undo and gently fold up your forearm.

Looking back up at yourself in the mirror, you look like a little girl trying on her father’s clothes. It’s clear that they’re too big, but you make do with tucking and folding where you can. But the broad and structured shoulders the shirt gave you made you feel… bigger? Something about it made you feel more robust.

The pants are… another story. Of course they sat a little low on your hips and were too loose around the area where you lacked the facilities of a man. But the utilities of having so many pockets and places to stow away small items brought you some small joy as you cuff the pants around your ankles and tuck the shirt into them.

You style your hair simply up, anything to keep it away from your face and off your shoulders till it’s time to wash and you think what to do about them then.

Looking back into the crusty mirror, though your eyes see themselves, a whole new person has taken shape behind them. It felt foreign to you to appear so fresh-faced, neutral, and unassuming in a world where Malsifer demanded you always looked your best as an extension of himself and his appearance. That usually translated in wearing makeup on a near-daily basis, and extravagant colorful gowns to even the most casual of events.

The dress is a pastel mess on the floor of the fresher, and looking down at it, you feel a twinge of guilt for having to abandon it. It’s pretty…

You bundle it up and head out from the fresher.

You walk quietly across the hull, your bare feet making light patting noises as you went. Sitting at the wedge in the wall, you ditch the dress behind you and slip on your boots again before standing up, and head towards the cockpit like Mando told you to.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #the mandolarian #asclepius-erebus

[doomonfilm]

Review : Kate (2021)

I don’t know what it is about Mary Elizabeth Winstead and roles where she gets to lean into being a badass, but it seems these days that this sole ingredient is enough to pique my interest.  Maybe it started when she portrayed Ramona Flowers in the epic classic Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and I was just to blind to see it.  Perhaps it got locked in during Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) at one of the many points that Winstead was stealing the show as Huntress.  All I know is that I was hooked when Netflix threw Winstead at me, plus Woody Harrelson, a ton of Japanese aesthetic and even a Tortoro tank top at me via their latest cinematic venture, the action-packed Kate.

Kate is a modernized update on a blend of revenge film and film noir that is centered around feminine energy in an extremely masculine world, and all of it is given the high production cherry on top to make that narrative darkness shine.  In terms of aesthetic, mood and tone, the film is definitely a winner, and easily one of the best looking Netflix productions to date.  Kate falls somewhere on the spectrum of properties like Kite, Leon : The Professional and touches of Hanna in terms of its female representation in the world of action, with women that are allowed to be themselves rather than feminine-skewed tough guys, but are still clearly capable and skilled at the same level of their male counterparts.  There are also touches of honor and having a code in the criminal underworld, examinations of dark cyclical mechanisms that takes lives and a bit of an estranged sisterhood thread going on between our female leads (not to say that they are sisters, but they are certainly kindred spirits forced together by fate and destiny).

Unfortunately, the story does run a bit thin in terms of substance, and with the film falling just a shade under two hours, it essentially feels like a side-scrolling video game turned cinematic experience.  The situation beset upon Kate is a tragic one, with the falling dominoes of broken trust, an attempt to leave a family system that doesn’t let go and the inevitable double cross that is putting a ticking clock on her life all hitting hard, but all of this takes place in act one, and the rest of the film is a revenge fantasy with an unclear target despite its respectable body count.  There is something there to work with in terms of the connection between Kate and Ani, but by the time that their paths cross again, Kate is essentially in Terminator mode, which relegates Ani to the role of talkative, irritating and reluctant sidekick.  This does work for a time, but with so much narrative thrust dedicated to the revenge (and redemption) aspect of the film, it becomes an auxiliary aspect that feels abandoned during the third act resolution.

The film is extremely technically proficient, so much so that it buoys the thin narrative by providing us with a purple neon presence that continuously breaks out of the darkness, deep depth of field close ups that frame our characters among a blurred neo-futurist Osaka and long lens observant shots that amplify Kate’s journey towards her end.  The combat elements of the film are serviceable, but the gunplay and stunt sequences make up for the lack of natural feel in the combat sequences.  The music choices lean deeply into the location of Osaka, helping to make the film feel extremely immersive.  It goes without saying that, based on locations, the atmosphere shots are breathtaking, with the luminescent glow that breaks up the Osaka darkness really making its presence felt.  A special shoutout goes out to the costuming department, who not only captured the gravitas of the Yakuza and other crime lords, but managed to find both the childlike innocence that Ani clings to in her outfit choice and the air of badass confidence Kate carries with her in her outfit (especially the aforementioned Tortoro tank top).

Mary Elizabeth Winstead is not only surprisingly believable as an orphaned assassin with her intense focus and overly confident demeanor, but she also has the empathic awareness to make adjustments in terms of how she interacts with other characters, which in turn creates very interesting connective arcs.  This is best displayed in her interactions with Miku Martineau, who could have easily been the one note lovingly annoying sidekick, but as her character Ani reveals truths about her troubled past and dangerous reality, Winstead’s Kate is able to find pure common ground without having to sacrifice her dying goals or her gruff exterior.  Woody Harrelson does what he does best by injecting charm into roles that are otherwise one-dimensional, only to give us a glimpse at that underlying sinister nature he channels at the point of character turns.  Tadanobu Asano leans into his opportunity to play the young underworld rebel who scoffs in the face of tradition with great aplomb, while Jun Kunimura offsets this by bringing a silent and still grandness to his old world characterization.  Appearances by Michiel Huisman, Miyavi, Kazuya Tanade and a trio of performances by Amelia Crouch, Ava Caryofyllis and Gemma Brooke Allen as young Kate round things out.

Kate is enjoyable for what it is, but I don’t know if it has the substance or sting needed for me to return to it down the road.  Maybe I will if I get on a big Winstead kick in the future, or if newcomer Miku Martineau finds breakout success down the road, but I’d be lying to myself if I said that Kate stood in the top tier amongst its peers.  That being said, there’s a reason it’s currently the number one trending film on Netflix, as it looks like a million bucks, so if you’re in need of a quick stimulus jolt without a deep mental or emotional commitment, then this film may be right up your alley.

#ChiefDoomsday #DOOMonFILM #CedricNicolas-Troyan #Kate #MaryElizabethWInstead #MikuMartineau #WoodyHarrelson #TadanobuAsano #JunKunimura #MichielHuisman #Miyavi #KazuyaTanabe #AmeliaCrouch #AvaCaryofyllis #GemmaBrookeAllen

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker 007 AU >>

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

The painting is hideous, there are no two ways about it. 

The longer Tony stares at it trying to find a justification for the thirteen-thousand dollar price tag, the more dumbfounded he becomes. Affixed to the wall it presents like a gaudy canvas banner, a bewildering clutter of haphazard spills and splotches that might have a certain panache adorning the walls of the penthouse of the pretentious elite, but Tony can’t make sense of it. 

The gallery is lined with paintings of a similar aesthetic, abstracts that look like psychedelic blood-spatters, moody self-portraits and ten-feet-tall modernism canvas of writhing, spaghetti-lines that looks like it belongs in a first grade art class. 

Maybe Tony is a simpleton, but he has at least some taste.

A man slips beside Tony to observe the painting, head tilted up to peer at the artwork in quiet consideration. Outside the corner of his vision Tony can tell the man is stunning. Suit expertly tailored, the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones beautifully chiseled, milky skin brushed with a hint of gold and long, long that fingers that wrap around a perspiring glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

Tony sips his whiskey, a smooth burn down his throat as his interest is piqued. He’s seen a hundred, a thousand of men just like this one - well dressed and impeccably styled - but however girt by the exquisitely woven threads he may be, the unconscious tug of the mans smile seems genuine in partner with the down-to-earth brown of his eyes. He’s beautiful but doesn’t flaunt it.

It takes only a beat for the man to notice Tony’s staring, the mellow harmonic chords of the piano lulling away in the near distance. He offers a shy smile at the attention, turning his gaze back to the painting to resume his quiet scrutiny, eyes flickering over the slapdash strokes.

Oh yes, Tony thinks. He’ll do just nicely. 

He clears his throat roughly, catching the startled gaze of the younger man, mouth falling open in quiet surprise. 

“Stark,” Tony introduces himself, holding his hand out in greeting. The man's grip is pleasingly firm when he shakes Tony’s hand after a moment's still contemplation. 

“Parker,” the man smiles, eyes crinkling adorably at the sides. “Peter Parker.”

He tries to not find himself charmed by the way the hairs of one of Peters’ eyebrows are swept skyward like he’d rubbed his face, or the way his long fingers tap at the stem of his wine glass as he sips from it, licking his bottom lip to catch a wayward drop.

“What brings you here, Mr. Parker?” Tony inquires, surreptitiously tracing temple of his glasses to activate the sensors built within them. 

His vision goes blue for a prolonged moment as the AI brings up schematics and data in a blinding stream of text and symbols. Another tap has EDITH zeroing in on the younger man, registering his heat signature in blistering oranges, his recent social media and his squeaky-clean criminal record.

PETER BENJAMIN PARKER

24 YEARS OLD 

PLACE OF RESIDENCE: QUEENS, NEW YORK, UNITED STATES. CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CIVILIAN

A quick skim of the hurried cascade of information informs Tony that Peter was tardy eight times in high school and is now currently an engineer for Oscorp. 

That’s a shame. Tony guesses being pretty doesn’t account for taste.

“My employer is a patron of the arts,” Peter smiles. “What about you Mr. Stark? Is this business or pleasure?” He gestures with his half-empty glass to the sea of people, a motley swarm of greasy politicians, haughty high-flyers and glittering socialites.

“A smart man finds a way to do both at the same time,” Tony winks, giving the younger man a deliberately slow once over, warming the hollow patch behind his ribs when the man's cheeks bloom pink. Peters eyes drops to Tony’s lips when he licks the residue of whiskey off them, lingering there for just a moment before politely looking away. 

Play indeed. Sure, the auction for the artworks is set to begin at any moment and Tony’s mark is idling somewhere in the background - but there is always time to enjoy himself, Tony justifies as he turns in towards Peter and gives his best charm.

Potts always did drone on to him about having a proper work-life balance.

“What do you think?” Tony asks, pointing to the abstract artwork, analysing Peter as he breaks from their stare and assesses the nervous mess of brown and splintering white acrylic. 

“The Delicate Spider,” the man orates expertly, not missing a beat. “Ruth Bauer Neustadter.”

“Wow, just rolls right off your tongue there,” Tony blinks, mildly impressed. “You some kind of art aficionado or something?” 

“Nah, I just like spiders,” Peter shrugs, looking over the piece appreciatively. “What about you, Mr. Stark?”

“Me? No thank you to anything with more than four legs and whatever this is,” Tony says truthfully, lifting his hands sheepishly. “Although I couldn’t tell the difference between a Pollock or a Picasso if you paid me, so.”

Peter seems amused, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as he rocks on his feet. He’s adorable and would look far more inspired contrasted against Tony’s black silk bedsheets than any one of these works of art.  

“That’s a shame, Mr. Stark.”

“It is,” Tony concedes with a smirk. “It’s a very hard life being so uncultured.”

“I can tell. Maybe I can give you an education some time.”

Tony grins, catching Peter’s gaze. “I’d like that very much Mr. Parker.”

The spell is abruptly broken when the interface of Peters smartwatch lights up, distracting them both. He looks to Tony sheepishly after reading its contents, using his pinky to tap away at it. The wriggle of the small finger shouldn’t be charming, honestly. 

“Ah, I’m afraid I must be heading out, Mr. Stark. Auction’s starting.”

Damn.

“Don’t let me hold you,” Tony supplicates, raising his glass to him, even if he is sad to see him go.”It was a pleasure.”

He can’t help the quirk of his lips at the word, nodding politely at the other man whose smile is tinged with regret this time, and the modest sweep of his gaze over Tony’s body tells him everything he needs to know. 

Not that it matters, when a warning red flashes alarmingly over his smart-glasses. His mark is moving, which means he needs to get moving himself.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” he calls out when the younger man waves and moves to leave, offering a roguish smile. “Maybe we can catch up afterwards. Get a start on that education.”

A chestnut curl falls delicately over Peter’s forehead when he turns to peer back at him. “Maybe,” he nods, waving again before departing for good.

He takes only a second to leer at the generous swell of Peter’s ass and mourn the missed opportunity, sighing to himself. This is what he gets for having a bonafide actual work ethic - if he were any of his sloppy, bone-headed colleagues he’d have had his tongue buried in that ass five minutes ago. 

Nonetheless once he’s out of sight Tony taps his glasses again, following the transparent map that pinpoints where his mark is. 

He’s got a job to do.

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

Neil McGarrett was a wealthy, eccentric billionaire. A media mogul who made his fortune from humble beginnings, starting from the sale of a single newspaper and now has his name splashed over his own cable news network. 

Decidedly right-leaning, McGarrett had an inclination of sensationalism over what some might traditionally label journalism, but it was undeniable that he was favoured by the republican voters in droves, if prime-time ratings were anything to go by.

The man regularly made headlines himself - from his sixth marriage falling apart, to his more unsavoury public affairs. Being photographed naked whilst snorting cocaine on his ten million dollar yacht every other week was commonplace. He’d been photographed dining with sex-offenders and simpering politicians and the wall street elite, caught on film talking about underage women and applauded for it by his peers.

He was a misogynist and a xenophobe and all of supporters loved him for it, dressing it up nice and pretty in what they called classic American values. 

For all of his questionable morality McGarrett was also a patron of multiple charities. He gave his time and money to various causes, was caught strolling the red carpet of many a gala and fundraiser and, sometimes, on occasion held a fundraiser - or an auction - of his own.

And that leads Tony to his current assignment, dressed to the nines and brushing shoulders with the obscenely wealthy, pretending like he knows a damn thing about art. 

McGarret had decided to generously place a portion of his infamous art collection up for auction and donate the earnings to charity - for the veterans, he had proclaimed, an endearing cause no one could fault him for - even if the charity receiving the funds was for-profit and only repurposed fifteen percent of their donations to actual veterans and its founder was vitriolically transphobic.

It only makes the reconnaissance that much more satisfying.

One of those sparkly big names that McGarret had been associated with was one Justin Hammer, a weapons developer. Whilst the two have little outward affiliation outside the sphere of the billionaire-boys-club, government intelligence suggested that their association may be something more than meets the eye.

Which led to Tony’s mission, scouring McGarrets’ Manhattan abode and gathering evidence that would confirm him as an accomplice to Hammer - the latter of whom was suspected to be selling arms to small island nations and aiming them squarely at American soil. 

Innocuous on the surface, they already knew McGarret paid for someone to disguise the transactions between the island nations and oil rich company executives, the media mogul looking to make a quick buck out of warfare and the ad space of the top rating morning program breaking news of an attack on American allies. Shockingly that top rating morning news program ran on McGarrets cable network and more of a ‘surprise’ was that McGarret owned stock in those oil companies and in Hammer Industries. 

The auction is a perfect setup for a distraction. McGarret, the mark, will be entertaining his guests, the crowd will have another focus and security will be concentrating on protecting the artworks. 

And Tony will be helping himself to some Saturday night intelligence gathering and infiltration. Perfect.

When he starts hearing the raucous bids from the ballroom it’s time for Tony to start moving.

He nods at various dignitaries, toasts to inebriated politicians as he wanders from hall to hall, politely acknowledging the lingering bedroom-eyes men and women cast upon him as he passes, Glock 26 rubbing against his lower back as his hips sway into the heart of the building. 

EDITH guides him to the third storey to a plain-looking room down the hall where McGarrets office is located and fewer people are found. The office doors are lined with the kevlar and shotguns of three men, each eyeing Tony with suspicion when he approaches with a teeth-baring grin. 

Holding his hands up in mock surrender Tony winks, incapacitating the armed guards with a flash of his palm-central gauntlets, tutting to himself as they slump to the ground in an ungraceful heap. 

Whilst he missed the old days of a good pistol-whip or an elbow to the face, there was a particular poetry to the flash and efficiency of the new tech. A certain je ne sais quoi in watching grown men crumple like a house of cards with the twitch of Tony’s fingers.

The EDITH glasses are the only development that Potts has allowed him to bring on field - which is honestly a travesty, however experimental and unregulated his tech is they’re missing out - it’s why they hired him after all.

With a grateful pat to the unmoving hip of one of the guards Tony delicately plucks the access pass from their belt and has EDITH check their vitals. 

The little red light turns green when Tony presses the pass against the reader, lock unlatching with a quiet, electronic whir.

The room is dark when Tony enters, lit dimly in a sickly yellow glow by two standing floor lamps. The blinds are drawn, slivers of pale moonlight streaking across the desk as Tony approaches it.

There’s a photo frame on the desk of McGarrett and a busty blonde with her arms around him, fingerprints all over the glass. When Tony picks it up for better inspection his fingers come away suspiciously sticky. 

Gross.

Wiping his hands on his suit Tony fishes out the USB from his pocket and leans over to place it in the processing unit of the desktop computer. The monitor awakens in a bright technicolour glow as the tech works it’s magic, hacking itself into the system and retrieving the data, storing it not only on the USB itself but transmitting it back to base wirelessly.

All Tony has to do now is wait for the download to complete, mourning to himself how frightfully boring it is when missions go this easy. 

It’s hard being efficient sometimes, he muses, wondering where McGarrett stores his scotch and if he’d notice if Tony helped himself to some.

“EDITH, how long since the download commenced?”

“Three minutes, twelve seconds, sir.”

Tony groans, already bored. Maybe he can join the afterparty and get inappropriate with one of the Victoria’s Secret models on the guest list. 

He sighs, turning to face the window - only to be surprised when someone behind him punches him in the face.

“Wha?” he manages, slumping against the desk momentarily as his vision spins, head pounding. He doesn’t have time for any reprieve however as his assailant lunges forward to attack him again - Tony barely manages to duck, aiming an elbow at the tall figure and making contact with their face.

It’s hard to be sure in the dark but the figure appears slight, but masculine and he recovers fast, charging forward to grip the lapels of Tony’s jacket in his hands. He pulls Tony forward and moves a leg upwards to knee Tony hard in the stomach.

The pain steals his breath but only riles Tony up, shooting his fist out to swiftly sock the other man in the throat, slamming his head down against the other guys skull. 

It’s enough to release his grip and Tony uses his bulk to crowd the other man against the windows, head throbbing. One hand shoots out to wrap around his attackers throat, the other reaching for his glock and pressing against the mans temple.

Even with a gun pointed at him, the man struggles against his grip, kicking his legs out ineffectually in an attempt to gain the upper hand. 

The movements shift the blinds open for enough street light to bleed in, illuminating the attackers face, young features twisted in a snarl.

“You,” Tony muses, blinking in surprise.

It’s the man from before - Peter Parker.

Except, all his previous air of innocence has all but dissipated, brown eyes cold and calculating. 

It’s a mistake to look.

Peter uses Tony’s startled pause to knock the gun away and out of Tony’s hands with surprising strength, slipping free from the chokehold with a kick to Tony’s ribs.

Goddamn that fucker is quick, Tony thinks as he stumbles back, clutching his side.

“When I said we should catch up later this isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Tony snarks, dodging another fist to the face.

With a twist of his body he sweeps his legs out at Peter’s shins, the smaller man falling to the ground in a kneel.

“What, a little late night espionage not romantic enough for you?” Peter retorts, whipping a pistol out from his jacket and aiming it at Tony’s chest. 

Tony acts quickly, legs moving on instinct as a well placed kick flings the weapon away.

There’s a split second where Tony gets distracted because outraged pout on the man's face is adorable - it’s however shortlived, when Peter rushes at him, clocking him upside the jaw as they tumble to the ground in a heap, their weapons discarded somewhere to the side. The two wrestle for dominance, rolling over the floorboards, elbows flying as they try to one up one another.

 Tony gets another fist to his face and immediately tastes copper in his mouth. 

“On the contrary,” Tony groans, using his weight to roll over the younger man, straddling his slim waist to hold him down. “Sounds like a perfect date.”

“I don’t date thugs.”

“Well that’s just a shame, here I thought we had something,” Tony tuts patiently, pressing his thumbs against Peter’s windpipe, the younger man gasping for air as he bucks his hips upwards to try dislodge Tony. 

“So, who do you work for, Peter Parker? Hmm, you one of Hammers’ goons?”

Peter’s face goes pink, eyes bulging as his airway is cut off. He scrabbles at Tony’s wrists and tries to take another swing at him only for Tony to press down further. 

“What makes you think I work for anybody,” Peter snarks back, bucking his hips as Tony presses him further into the ground.

And, oh. That should not feel as good as it does, Tony thinks as Peter writhes underneath him. The younger mans’ back arches pleasingly as he tries to gain leverage, biting his bottom lip as he chokes.

“For one,” Tony comments, moving his hand from Peter’s throat to grip his wrists, “these little bracelets you have here are definitely off-market and two,” he tilts his head towards the open air-vent in the ceiling, “you definitely weren’t invited in here.”

Tony abruptly finds his back to the floor when, in lieu of answering and in a truly impressive feat of flexibility, Peter brings his legs up from behind Tony to wrap them around his chest.

Using the new leverage, Peter reverses their positions, using the strength of his thighs to slam Tony’s torso to the ground, his arms in a bind against his chest. On top, Peter straddles Tony’s hips, seating himself right over Tony’s groin.

Dazed, Tony tries to not be attracted to the way Peter looks when he retrieves a small dagger from his suit and holds it to his neck, the sharp tip grazing his vulnerable skin. Tony’s hips roll anyway. 

“Are you getting hard from this?” Peter hisses incredulously, holding the dagger lengthways along Tony’s throat column.

The metal is warm from Peters body when Tony swallows roughly, throat bobbing against the dagger. Goddamn he’s here to do a job.

“I refuse to take the blame for that. I mean, it’s not everyday that I get my ass kicked by someone so pretty and snarly,” Tony admits, looking skyward for some kind of means of escape. “Even if they’re a petty criminal.”

“Petty -- “, Peter cuts himself off with a growl - and god that’s hot too - reaching back into his jacket pocket to fish out a leather-bound badge, shoving it against Tony’s glasses. 

“FBI, asshole.” 

Of course he’s a fed.

Tony laughs, muscles going lax despite the weapon aimed at his throat. 

“You’ll have to do better than that, sweetheart,” Tony drawls, ease trickling down his spine as EDITH verifies the badge.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Who are you --”

“CIA Special Agent Tony Stark,” Tony talks over him, “Also referred to as TS007 - and that’s my dick you’re grinding on.”

Peter looks down at his own slow rolling hips in surprise, still pointing the dagger at Tony as he rises up on his knees to put some distance between them.

“Show me your badge so I know you’re not full of shit,” Peter demands, lips turned downward in a disbelieving frown. Tony smirks as he complies, retrieving his battered badge from his pocket and waving it aloofly in Peters’ face. 

It seems to do the trick. Peter stands to let him up, still looking at him dubiously. 

Tony grunts as he stands, back aching and head pounding, all his new wounds becoming known as the adrenaline subsides. He tries for a cocky grin but a sharp pain makes him wince at the action. He licks over a welt on his lip where it swells on one side.

He thanks Peter quietly when he retrieves both of their guns from the floor, passing Tony’s over.

“What are the suits doing here?” Tony prods, lifting his thumb to his lip to stem the blood. When it comes away wet he sticks it into his mouth, lapping at the metallic taste. 

“That’s, uh -” Peter stutters, eyes on the digit in Tony’s mouth, “ - that’s classified. What are the CIA --”

“Also classified,” Tony smirks. It’s true, but it’s also fun to watch the muscle in Peter’s jaw clench in petulant frustration. The younger man turns towards him and taps his smartwatch again, fingers flying over the interface as he types in a code at breakneck speed. 

“What division are you in?” Tony queries, siding up next to the younger man, looking surreptitiously at the USB that still appears to be downloading.

“That’s classified,” Peter mumbles, adjusting what appears to be a well-hidden earpiece with his other hand, body slumping as the fight goes out of him.

“You’re a bit young to be a field agent, aren't you?” Tony presses, EDITH catching a swarm of heat signatures outside of the room down the hall. 

Peter scoffs. “I have a particularly special skill set - and before you ask, that too is classified. ”

His irateness only makes Tony grin, reaching over the desk to switch on the desk lamp so he can see the guy better. Peters curls are in disarray, his cheek is already beginning to bruise and Tony can see where his own handprints have burst the capillaries on Peter’s pale throat. God, he’s a fucking vision.

“A man of mystery, huh? So secretive, I mean not that that’s a negative trait whatsoever, I can certainly get behind that.“

“Do you always flirt on the job?” Peter queries with a frown, but nonetheless spreads his legs slightly when Tony moves to shift between them.

“Only when I have a beauty like you in front of me, darling. You’re a real distraction, anyone ever tell you that?”

“And you’re a shameless old man,” Peter counters. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“I already told you my policy on mixing business and pleasure,” Tony nods shamelessly, slides his hands up Peter’s thighs. “What can I say? I’m multi-talented.”

“You’re arrogant.”

“You like it.”

“I have a job to finish,” Peter parries, even as an unwilling grin stretches over his face.

The mood is broken when the heat signatures draw closer and sudden yelling is heard outside as the bodies Tony left at the door are discovered. 

Peter peers at the door confusedly, crouching slightly to plant what looks like a listening device on the underside of the desk. There’s a commotion of footsteps and raised voices, someone is yelling to hand them over an access pass.

They’re going to have to act quick.

“We’ve got guests,” Tony turns to Peter, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and dragging him close. “We’re going to need a diversion.”

The look he receives is unbridled bewilderment as the younger man stumbles into Tony, and for the first time he can appreciate the clean smell of sweat and copper and aftershave from the younger man. 

“What are you --” is all Peter gets out before Tony reels him in and kisses him. 

Peter’s surprised hum is swallowed by Tony’s lips and he goes rigid for just a second before he snaps into action.

Strong hands grip Tony’s hips, driving him backwards against the desk. The sharp maple edge digs painfully into his lower back as Peter presses against him, slipping his tongue into Tony’s mouth as he boxes him in. The press of Peter’s body against his feels fucking incredible when he moves, all ridged muscle as he presses them chest-to-chest, biting on Tony’s lower lip as he takes control of the kiss.

“Fuck, kid,” Tony breathes, snaking a hand down to cup Peters ass through his slacks, bringing their bodies closer together until Tony can feel that Peter too is just as hard as him. Tony gets lost in the small groan Peter breathes into his mouth, the kiss growing steadily sloppier as the voices grow louder.

The door flies open and the click of multiple guns loading breaks their lip-lock.

“Oh no, how embarrassing.” Tony gasps, pretending to act shocked as the room fills with armed men. “We’re so sorry - as you can tell we needed a room.”

“Put your hands up!” One man yells, readjusting his grip on his gun.

“Great diversion,” Peter mumbles against Tony’s lips, eyes flicking to his periphery as he slowly inches away. 

“It was worth a shot,” Tony smiles crookedly, assessing the situation. A number of armed men surround them, firearms aimed squarely at the duo. Going by their uniform they look like untrained goons, security for hire rather than any law enforcement. Perfect. Tony hates paperwork.

“You’ve got four at your six o’clock,” Peter mutters, shuffling discretely retrieve his pistol from his pocket, resting it against Tony’s thigh.

“You’ve got six,” Tony comments quietly, sliding his hand to grip his own glock in his pocket. “Not to gloat, but I think I can take out more than you, shortstack.”

“I said put your goddamn hands up!” The same man yells.

Peter looks delighted by the challenge. The two quickly shuffle so they’re back to back, facing the circle of pointed firearms. 

“Loser pays for dinner?” Peter asks.

Tony smirks, raising his gun and gauntlet at the same time Peter raises his. 

“Deal.”

#starker #starker moodboard #tony stark x peter parker #spy au #007 au #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: guns

[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

19 Questions

I always adore being tagged, thank you @justagirlinafandomworld

What do you prefer to be called name-wise?

Aira. Some people shorten it to just Air, but I prefer the full. 

When is your birthday?

September 14th

Where do you live?

In a state of perpetual frustration. 

Three things you are doing right now?

Petting my puppy, online shopping, thinking about when I have to leave for work.

Four fandoms that have piqued your interest?

I’m such a Spn and Marvel girl! And these following fandoms have also warmed their way into my heart, Sherlock, Criminal Minds, The Witcher, and Detroit: Become Human. I never thought I would write video game fanfiction, but here we are.

How has the pandemic been treating you?

Let’s see, my dad died, and caused a ripple in my family. I’ve been verbally attacked. And scared of the virus killing everyone I care about. Oh, and now the owner of the company I work for is trying to stay open through shutdown. So not good. 0/10 would not recommend. 

A song you can’t stop listening to right now?

Therefore I am by Billie Ellish. That girl never ceases to impress me!

Recommend a movie.

A Christmas Knight on Netflix. It’s really cute if you’re a sucker for the holiday rom-coms.  (Yvette, A Bad Mom’s Christmas is on my watchlist!)

How old are you?

I can legally drink.

School, university, occupation, etc

I’m taking the semester off from school because of everything that’s happened. But I just had my 3 month anniversary at work! That’s going pretty well. I love 80% of the people I work with and it can be such a fun atmosphere. 

Do you prefer heat or cold?

I’m the opposite, I love the cold, even though I’ve lived through extremely hot weather. I’ve walked through the snow barefoot. I want to be a frozen popsicle. 

Name one fact others may not know about you.

I just mentioned it a few questions back, but I love Netflix holiday movies.  Don’t tell the people in my real life because they sleep hard on the genre. A Christmas Prince and The Knight Before Christmas are my jam! I’m such a hopeless romantic. But my mom always makes fun of the hallmark specials so I keep the ones I like to myself. I really like When Calls the Heart,  the only Hallmark thing I watch. It’s early 20th century courting in rural Canada. And I know it’s so dorky and G rated but the way Jack looks at Elizabeth makes me swoon. So that’s a pretty well kept secret. Until now I guess. But you could just go onto my Netflix and see what I’ve watched so it’s not all that guarded. 

Are you shy?

I think we’re similar in this Yvette. I was as a kid. And now I’m more of an observer than a partaker. I think more than I say. I’m quiet when I work and also think things through and try to get all of the facts about a situation and who is in it. But when I have something to say, you’ll hear it. I’ve also been a very guarded person, and I still am, but I’ve learned to loosen my reigns.

Preferred pronouns

She/her. Or Empress. lol

Biggest pet peeves

HYPOCRITES! When rules apply for certain people and not for others. Animal haters. Bigots. People that don’t wash their hands. PEOPLE THAT WEAR THEIR MASKS BELOW THEIR NOSES! 

Rate your life from 1-10

My life has been every number. I’ve been on the top of the world and I’ve crashed and burned.

What’s your main blog?

Gone-to-fight-the-fairies

List your side blogs and what they’re used for.

@pumpkin-spice-feels for fall and winter aesthetics. 

And then there’s my personal blog that’s a mosh-pit of anything I like on Tumblr. 

Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends?

I’m an observer. No, I don’t want to wander around the bar and meet new drunk people. I want to sit at the bar and order a snack with my drink. 

Okay I’ve opened up, who’s next?

Tagging these lovelies: @castieltrash1 @the-tired-cryptid @michellethetvaddict @thefandomsinhalor and anyone who has some time to kill is welcome to fill this out. Say I tagged you :)

#tag game #wonderful mutuals #things i'm tagged in

[ikemen-matchups]

@oikame​

hello there~! of course i’ve decided to come in and see what you’d have for me~ do you mind me asking for a mlqc match-up, please? i’m curious to see what you’d say! you already know a lot about me, but i’m gonna leave the incoherent ton of info anyway, pff— i’m sorry it turned out so longish— 

heterosexual gemini female, isfp, slytherin & chaotic neutral. my style is edgy, but leaning towards casual, too. i like interesting accessories, details and aesthetics!

many people say that my initial vibe is pretty intimidating, or at least reserved and mysterious. though, around my friends i am more relaxed and chill, and love to laugh and crack jokes! i also tease a lot~.

but i am, in fact, a reserved person — it takes me quite some time to open up about my honest feelings and to trust someone. that makes me quite a hermit; i’m on good or neutral terms with many people, but i have just a handful of friends i consider close.

i can be lazy and uninterested, but when something piques my interest or when i’m challenged, i can be a very, very stubborn one! i’m opinionated, but i always try to see a bigger picture and imagine the story from different angles — in that way, i consider myself a very realistic person. i used to be more confrontational in the past, and these days i’m more passive. i try to be tolerant, but i can also get annoyed and irritated easily. i am a ‘forgive but don’t forget’ type of person.

i’m extremely curious and have wide palette of interests, some of which are medicine, botany, arts, astronomy, astrology, and such. i love to explore and learn, and i like activities like hiking. spiritual topics are also my thing, and i simply love to think and wonder. i may like to bake, but the domestic jobs in general aren’t my jam. i also get bored very easily!

i like to be helpful, and my self-worth is defined by being useful or making other smile, so i like giving gifts to my friends, even if it’s just buying them their favourite chocolate bar or so. that ‘giving’ trait of mine is not quite well known, though, and i suppose that it is because of my initial personality that people consider me rather selfish and self-centred instead.

my love language is definitely physical touch, along with giving gifts or acts of service. i’m pretty much touch starved — i will kiss, hug, even bite someone shamelessly and out of endearment ( i can be the tough love kind ). in those terms, i’m more of a ‘actions speak louder than words’ person, as i find it embarrassing and shallow to say 'i love you’ often or too soon. i will be poetically affectionate, though.

in terms of romantic interests and relationships, i’m someone who appreciates communication, trust and intellectual bond along with the physical one. i’m also not a fan of people who are uncertain in terms of their feelings or are unreliable as partners.

i hope this is okay? thank you very much in advance and take your time with this~!

✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

hey! sorry for the wait !! but, hopefully it’ll be worth it.

also, no worries on how much you send in; it gives me a lot to work with & i appreciate you spending the time to do so. i’m so excited to match you up; i hope you like your matchup ! ;’) before moving on, i just want to say your writing is so amazing & i got inspired by you to do this blog in the first place. much love for you ! without further ado …

˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

i match you up with … 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍  !!

not gonna lie, i had such a tough time deciding between shaw & lucien, and ultimately lucien won out in the end. i know shaw is your favorite, but i feel like lucien would end up being such a great match with you.

(even though he’s a scorpio to your gemini) !

anyway, the whole vibe of your personality seems like it’d mesh well with lucien– i wish i could have a straightforward reason as to why, but here are just my thoughts!

lucien is canonly a genius, so i without doubt believe that he’s a slytherin-ravenclaw mix in terms of house, and that’d honestly pair well with your slytherin house.

not to go too much in depth about this small factor, but … with this match, i feel there’s nothing in world that can stop you both as that dynamic duo … your bright minds & perspectives bring a whole new level to anything you set your eyes on.

since both of your ambitious & clever personalities will mesh well, you guys become a total power couple. you support & encourage each other’s success whilst working hard to do better.

you’ll become equals, and probably will push each other to be your best selves- i feel you’ll always be learning from each other & that’s huge for relationships.

onto personality, seeing that you both are more the introverted types; trust is a major factor. it’s something that is earned over time and you both attest to that fact.

i feel you guys will initially be guarded around each other given that you both don’t trust easily. however, once you guys bestow trust in each other … not to be trite but that trust literally cannot be broken. you will both be so so loyal to each other & it will be so wholesome?? 

the kind of loyalty that’s like top tier-

in your relationship, you guys stress the small details, and those small acts of kindness toward one another is most definitely appreciated by both parties. whether it be something as simple as refilling tea or something as grandiose as a homemade gift or maybe even homemade cooking, you both want each other to be happy.

anyway, lucien will be intrigued by your mysterious & reserved personality. perhaps in passing, he’ll be aware of how onlookers regard you as intimidating or maybe even standoffish. but like with anything, he knows there’s more to people than meets the eye. he dismisses the rumors, and will see for himself what you are like. in turn, he will see you as someone he’d want to get to know beyond face value. 

and boy, he won’t regret it.

your genuine kind personality becomes endearing to him. he thinks it’s so admirable how selfless you are; it kind of stuns him how you strive to make others happy without asking anything in return or having an ulterior motive. and on top of that, your kindness is genuine; you aren’t putting on a facade?? he’s lowkey amazed & also intrigued by that fact. on that note, lucien is hella observant, so you better believe that he takes note of this helpful & kind trait of yours right away.

he studies people, which, as a result, i think his interest will be piqued by your overall kind but sometimes very stubborn demeanor (he finds this side of you absolutely adorable though). but then he will come to terms to the fact you’re not someone who he should just observe, but rather someone he should get to know without this overly thinking & observing mindset of his?? if that makes sense. 

he might loosen up is what i’m trying to say- which isn’t something he’s used to i don’t think.

so… you’re looking for an intellectual bond? who better than lucien? i feel you both will never tire of having conversation and perhaps banter with one another; conversation just flows easily, due to your wide array of interests & his seemingly bottomless pit of knowledge. i feel like given both your big-brain personalities, you guys could have intellectual repartee or just stimulating conversations about anything.

you could talk about astronomy to botany to arts– anything – and lucien will always have something to add to fuel your mind. even with that fact, hearing your perspective is quite important to lucien; it may not appear like he does, but trust me, he’ll take it in with that gentle smile on his face.

he loves it when you get excited about these topics. your passion for learning about a myriad of topics is riveting. and also infectious??

seeing that you get easily bored, lucien will go out of his way to be up-to-date with the topics that particularly interests you, and he’ll be down to do any of those things.

like, hiking dates ?? he’ll be down & will be so prepared for anything that may occur. he’ll research the best places for hiking with the perfect scenic view.

in fact, you’ll probably be a little shocked as to how considerate & thoughtful he can be when it comes to you. he doesn’t do those kind of things if he doesn’t adore you just sayin ! 

also, intellectual debates between you two that turn into outright flirting? that’s definitely a thing. lucien has a teasing side if i can recall correctly, so … the prospect of him trying to fluster you with his wording?? oh, it happens, and you’ll probably be like “game on” & so, it just becomes a competition who can fluster each other the most !!  or something along those lines.

ngl, some people will be amazed at how you guys seem to never tire of excitedly relaying or debating information. but they have to give it to you guys; learning & attaining knowledge is a normal thing for you. after all, there’s boundless of things to learn-

you both delve into the more deep talks as well– even if it’s an ungodly hour. i don’t think you guys know a sleep schedule tbh? nonetheless, you probably both accept this fact & enjoy each other’s company immensely. 

anyway- those late-night conversations just hit different, and i can imagine you’re just talking to each other like there’s no one else in the world. 

furthermore, lucien will be more vulnerable at this hour, and maybe more touchy-feely when it’s just the two of you who are up. he probably realizes this, but he can’t help it. you’re just so precious to him; can’t keep his hands to himself when you’re right there !!

he definitely will sate your touch-starved needs especially at night to early early morning. he especially likes to observe the reactions he evokes by doing so, and he’ll quickly pinpoint your weak points (or even ticklish spots–). lucien your mischievous side is showing. 

your smiles, your giggles, your laughs, your cute face when you’re stubbornly trying to prove your point … it’s everything- he just lives for your adorable reactions (even if he teases you). 

generally, he’s not big on pda, but i have a feeling that if he’s feeling somewhat possessive of you, he’ll be quick to show off how you’re taken vis a vis a knowing kiss on the lips or an obvious wrap around your waist to keep you to him. his actions honestly vary based on how much he’s feeling jealous-

in the end, however, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. he’ll try to keep his jealous urges at bay- but at the same time, he has a protective streak.

to conclude, you’re a great match together given your personalities & interests & passions !!  you’ll honestly be that couple where people will go “oh yeah that makes sense” because you’re literally, as mentioned before, a power couple. since there’s no such thing as perfection, there -perhaps- will be some bumps in the road with things like miscommunication & such, but you both end up making up & become stronger than before. there’s so much potential for you both in this relationship & i stan for it all.

possible runner-ups: 

shaw

victor

˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

 — lily ! ♡

#mlqc matchup #mlqc matchups #mr love queen's choice matchup #mr love queen's choice matchups #submission #ask box #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #lucien #lucien mlqc #oikame #ikemen matchups #ikemen matchup

[ofbloodmagick]

ROSE ARABELLA GORE

pronouns: SHE & HER + THEY & THEM

age: TWENTY - FIVE

sexuality: PANSEXUAL * DEMIROMANTIC * MONOGAMOUS

astrological signs: GEMINI SUN * SCORPIO MOON + ARIES RISING

occupation: BARTENDER @ DUTCH’S + MULTIPLE SIDE HUSTLES

+ traits: PERSUASIVE. ARTISTIC. RESILIENT. FASCINATING. ORIGINAL. RESOURCEFUL. WISE. ADVENTUROUS. BOLD.

-- traits: ECCENTRIC ( CREEPY ). SECRETIVE. DAMAGED. RESTLESS. TWO-FACED. JUDGMENTAL. RECKLESS. IMPULSIVE.

faceclaim: BILLIE LOURD

soul sounds: PLAYLIST !

aesthetic: ( TW: BLOOD ) BOARD !

YO YO YOU YO — it’s lydia here with my lil blood witch arabella , i have yet to get the chance to  r e a l l y  play her and i’m super excited for the chance bc i love them so very much. i have headcanon after headcanon for them , so hit me up if you want to do something bc i am ready to do some shit. anyway , LYDIA ( nary , nettle , snottie , etc. ) here again and i love a good name change , i’m twenty-five years old , a pansexual demigirl ( she / her * they / them ) like arabella themselves , and i reside in the central timezone ( FLORIDA IS HELL ). continue reading to learn all about ARABELLA GORE — the intense , mysterious clever little powerhouse that loves to be number one. 

PERSONALITY

RULING PLANETS: pluto — planet of power & regeneration * mercury — planet of communication * mars — planet of war & energy BODY PART: crotch * reproductive organs * shoulders * hands * head * face GOOD MOOD: resilient , magnetic , passionate , loyal , protective , artistic , brave , fascinating , original , resourceful , wise , adventurous , unstoppable , bold , devoted  BAD MOOD: obsessive , possessive , jealous , secretive , vengeful , manipulative , eccentric ( creepy ) , restless , two-faced , judgmental , proud , self-centered , impulsive , bossy , stubborn , reckless  ( SOME ) FAVORITE THINGS: obscure underground music , spicy food , an air of danger , one of a kind objects , organic ingredients , vinyl , magic , the color black , horror films , blood , fast cars , guitars , new clothes , road trips ( in fast red cars ) , expressing themselves through stunning verbal and physical feats ( SOME ) THINGS SHE HATES: simple small-minded people , insincere flattery , personal questions , living at someone else’s house , mornings , dress codes , authority figures , silence   SECRET WISHES: to have complete and total control +  to have all the answers + to be number one HOW TO SPOT THEM: intense eyes , hawk like gaze , smooth movements , dry blood/bruises/cuts/scars on pale skin , silver hair , big black bow , mischievous twinkle in their eyes , talking with their hands , focused or manic energy , aggressive stance WHERE TO FIND THEM: listening to bauhaus in her dark room , sitting at the corner table of a shitty underground bar smoking a cigarette , selling her magic and / or blood in some dimly lit room  KEYWORDS: intimacy , secrecy , power , intensity , obsession , cleverness , wittiness , inventiveness ,  ingenuity , willpower , initiative , determination , passion , self-belief

arabella’s mind and mouth are busy machines , always moving at warp speed. this witch is one of the most curious and cutting-edge individuals you will meet. there are at least two personalities inside of her at all times. adventurous , she can change her mind faster than the weather and is constantly flipping between moods. 

a true pioneer and trailblazer they’re the first to initiate things , fight for their beliefs and fearlessly put themselves out there. headstrong and determined , ella’s energy can be stubborn and willful a lot of the time. she does have a tendency to dig in her heels , stand her ground and absolutely refuses to be pushed around. 

they will butt their own metaphorical horns against the same obstacle until they break it down — often with sheer force of will. extremely confident , she believes in herself and will on occasion champion others she deems worthy.

she does love to chatter and has a million great ideas , always keeping a notebook handy to jot down her thoughts and ideas at any time. at times , their energy can circulate in a quick and frenetic way , the silver haired wiccan is known to inspireswitty wordplay and dynamic dialogue. 

when she applies herself , arabella is great at brainstorming and socializing. she also craves her “ twin flame ” and kindred spirit’s energy , always up for an intellectual meeting of the minds. 

under the influence , they find themselves with the gift of gab; talking and conversing with others for hours , hopping from pop culture trends to deep political topics. beware “ gossip girl ” ella though , they can crank up the rumor mill sometimes unknowingly. as renowned dr. bernie siegel says , “ [ we ] have the ability to cure with either ‘ words ’ or kill with ‘ swords. ' ” 

powerful and sensual arabella is perhaps one the most misunderstood and mysterious person you could ever meet though. secretive by nature , this southern witch tends to linger in shadowy and hidden places that most wouldn’t usually have the courage to face.

she believes strongly in life , death and resurrection and arabella embraces these life cycles. she is continually transforming and reinventing herself. there are actually more like four sides of arabella and it really just depends how she feels about you.

the first is venomous and possessive like a scorpion ; the second as slippery , charming and deadly as a snake ; the third like a soaring eagle whose piercing gaze sharply observes the landscape ( and its prey ) below ; and the fourth side ever burning and all seeing as a phoenix that rises up from the ashes into eternal rebirth.

your muse may find themselves dealing with an intense individual with lots of energy. she has been known to hole herself up late at night to process complex emotions or channel her overwhelming feelings into focused work and creativity.

the essence of arabella’s personality is magnetic , fascinating , original , passionate , loyal , protective , trendsetting , controlling , unstoppable , bold , powerful , resourceful , wise , adventurous , focused , bond oriented and brave. on the flip side though , she can also be obsessive , possessive , jealous , prideful , self-centered , impulsive , bossy , stubborn , reckless , competitive , two-faced , judgmental , overwhelmed , secretive , vengeful , to even cruel , calculating and manipulative. 

she channels her intuitive tides into a forceful stream of psychic and healing energy. arabella excels in exploring the darker , unexamined sides of life. it has given her excellent research and sleuthing skills , helping her plumb the depths and peer below the surface. this witch likes a challenge , but she does have to really try hard not to fall into being selfish and domineering.

she will without question help out in the darkest hours; this witch bitch is not afraid to go into the murky waters of the emotional and spiritual unknown. intense feelings surface around her closest ties , but around those she isn’t close to ella has a wall up.

believes strongly in merging , bonding and sharing resources. she may get obsessive about a passion project or lover ( forrest ) , even becoming jealous or insecure. this mysterious demigirl wants to hide all of their vulnerabilities. yet , those raw and unprocessed feelings are often their access to power.

arabella can be tricky to understand. with her reserved persona , she seldom starts a conversation or expresses interest in others openly — unless she feels out the situation first.

once you get her to open up , however , you’ll feel her scorching passion for whatever topics fascinate her. be warned: arabella can focus on one subject to an extreme , so you may be in for a deeper dive than you or your muse expect — or want lol

her natural charisma can quickly pique someone else’s interest in the topic too though. 

another way to spot the witch ? look for her piercing gaze , which is hawk like at times narrowing in on her “ prey ”. if you happen to be the focus of that look , watch out.  you will feel read as easily as a children’s book as arabella seems to just KNOW all your secrets , soft spots and fears.

their focused attention can be addictive , even painful when pulled away. be careful how quickly you fall down their rabbit hole — it’s not as easy to crawl back up once you do. when you befriend them , you are likely entering into a power couple or formidable alliance. while she doesn’t give up loyalty and trust easily , once she does she’ll stick with you through thick and thin.

don’t even think about double crossing her tho bc she WILL unleash her fury on you , divulging secrets and airing dirty laundry or worse. revenge is her favorite dish to serve and it’s ice cold. on a positive note , arabella’s like the perfect person to help explore darker emotions or sexuality , happy to guide most through fifty plus shades of irresistible and soul communing experiences.

arabella can come across as clever and quick-witted , but part of the fun ( and curse ) of interacting with the witch is that you’re never quite sure which personality you’re going to experience. will it be the vivacious jokester or the snarky , mean-spirited critic ? 

although they may crave complete and utter control over everything , they secretly yearn for the very thing they fear: true intimacy with others. it takes a lot for ella to reveal her vulnerability , so guard that privilege with the utmost care. as she opens up and learns to show her shadow side , she can heal in ways that are truly profound.

highly impatient and competitive , they have the fighting spirit. ella were born to be number one , a star who steals the spotlight and inspires with her confidence. yeah , they can be impatient , even a little bossy , especially when they don’t get their way. she need lots of attention and can throw quite the tantrum when she doesn’t get it. fortunately , arabella rarely has a problem turning heads.

others love to follow as they take the lead on the latest adventure. she has to be reminded to make sure and let other people be the boss every now and then too , because she has a tendency to alienate potential allies. when they focus their competitive streak into a diva-worthy goal and delegate , they will always rise to the top !

they have a lot of energy , which they apply to everything from tackling supersized projects to unleashing their lusty libidos with forrest. this confident demigirl is known to leap before looking , diving into each new experience with a zest for life that few others can muster. 

they love to be number one and can be a bit of a trendsetter. she has been described before as ‘ a true original who inspires the rest. ‘ with all of their fire power and can-do attitude , there’s nothing arabella can’t ( or won’t ) take on. at times , ella can be selfish or overly focused on herself and it can be a “ blind spot ” for them , they may need a gentle reminder from time to time to share. 

she likes to shatter glass ceilings but can also be off-putting to people in extreme doses. this go-getter can come across as abrasive or overly aggressive , however; arabella will never back down from a challenge and can take on being the champion of those in distress when need be.

BACKGROUND

( TW: child abandonment ) so arabella doesn’t know her parents are but she does know that they ended up in some small southern town called suspiria , located in virgina of all places. her mother was really into the surface level southern gothic aesthetic suspiria offered and the unlikely couple settled there until arabella was born. her parents didn’t keep her very long though seeing as their shotgun wedding was never built to last and after she was born they both returned to where they came from or at least that’s as far as the story goes if you ask anyone in suspiria. 

( TW: military ment. , death ) her parents actually went their separate ways , her mother returned to her wealthy family and comfortable life never to seek out the unnamed child she’d left behind in some no name town. her father went on to join the military and was lost in the line of duty with no one to even pass that knowledge on. 

the infant rose , as they were first called back then , was left on the doorstep of an orphanage and that was where they would spend their childhood. it was not a pleasant place to grow up at all , but she was incredibly lucky in finding her twin flame in a sad , lonely young boy also growing up there.

little ella was never once adopted and she made damn sure to change the minds of anyone who so much as looked in her direction or asked her name. they grew an unhealthy attachment to forrest almost the minute they laid eyes on him , but they are connected very deeply and even as children arabella was acutely aware. 

growing up ( maybe even to this day ) they were considered a loner , an outsider , the weirdo , a creepy kid , etc. and the bullying only got worse. the people in the shitty children’s home and the tiny backwoods town in virginia ? they didn’t really respond too well to the two strange kids that collected animal bones and hunted for ghosts. 

in their early teen years ella started practicing satanism , but that was really just a gateway religion into wicca and her true passion , witchcraft. forrest took to it just as quickly as they did and soon the two had formed their own little coven , something that didn’t stay secret very long.

forrest , being the more scholarly of the two , found himself working for the governor on his campaign and eventually recruited arabella to do the same , but she worked more closely with the governor’s wife and the children. it only took a week , two tops , for the power hungry woman’s true intentions to came to light — dark magic.

( TW: cheating , infidelity )it’s true that ella helped with the gardening , the children , the cleaning , the cooking , all the usual suspects but she also did a number of spells involving blood and shadows. the items they created most for the governor’s wife was their own recipes for love potions and anti-aging blood serums. the woman was extremely suspicious of her husband having affairs with younger women , pretty self explanatory as to why she was seeking help from a known magic user. 

( TW: blood ment. , devil ment. ) it was something of a hot topic in suspiria , the governor and his family hiring the two freaky orphans and why. not long after , a photo was leaked of the governor’s wife as arabella painted her face in the bright crimson blood serum they had concocted themselves. it was common knowledge by then that the two practiced witchcraft and suddenly every headline was about the governor and his wife being ‘ corrupted by the evil devil worshipers the kind family had taken pity on. ‘ 

( TW: assault ment. , death , arson , house fire ) the town ? literally ready to burn them at the freaking stake and the two couldn’t go anywhere without fear of assault of some sort or worse. to make matters all the worse , the governor’s wife and children perished suddenly in a terrible house fire and who was the easiest target to pin it on ? arabella and forrest , the two town rejects , which is exactly what the governor did. they were treated as murderers , hunted like criminals , which is why as soon as they found out about the raging fire they left town. 

( TW: death ) for the next four years arabella and forrest were on the run from the governor and his goons , not stopping in any one place for very long for fear of being caught up to. over a year ago they finally got word that the governor had kicked the bucket and that anyone still looking for them likely had stopped by now. not long after , arabella came across a beautiful , vintage gothic home far more expensive than it was priced , but luckily for them the home had a rather grisly history and had been on the market for so long that the owners had cut the asking price tremendously.

( TW: scamming ) arabella was convinced that it was a sign from the universe letting them know it was okay to settle down for good now and once she’s convinced there’s no real changing her mind. so , by halloween of 2019 they were moving into the beautiful gothic home of the witch’s dreams and not long after they had rooms in their ‘ haunted home ‘ listed on every website possible to lure in dark tourists everywhere. how true everything is ? well , the two did take quite a few creative liberties and the occasional diehard , truly experienced fan of the paranormal would ( possibly have ) call them con artists. 

( TW: scamming ) not only do they rent out rooms , but they also have the occasional ‘ murder tour ‘ of their ‘ serial killer ‘ house. what it really boils down to is arabella has been hustling their whole ass life and it’s never going to stop. there is quite a bit of truth to their stories , but though both ella and forrest have encountered the paranormal multiple times in their lives , not just in pleasance either , they’ve never had any real activity that could count as reliable proof. everything involving the businesses run out of the house are little more than sideshow entertainment for pleasance dark tourists.

( TW: blood ) the witch also has a part time job working for jules at dutch’s , her official title would be a bartender but she really just does what is asked of her. you probably guessed it already , but she does also have a side operation selling her blood magic from underneath the bar at dutch’s and they’re hopeful that their boss is none the wiser.

ETC.

she does still have a slight accent because she is from such a small town where everybody had a drawl or twang. she doesn’t have a good education by typical societal standards , because she had such shitty public education growing up as an orphan and no one who enforced her learning or attending. they are , however;  incredibly street smart and by no means stupid. they have since taught themselves how to learn in a way best for them and are always devouring book upon book in order to teach themselves things otherwise she may never know. 

( TW: blood ) ella is a blood witch and often uses her own blood , animal blood , someone else’s blood , pretty much if there’s blood in any form she’s set. she 100% sells her magic to anyone who wants it and does dabble in the shadow side. it might not actually work all the time , but that’s not entirely her fault. 

( TW: bruising / injury ment. , blood , scar ment. , self harm ) a pretty big feminist , used to be in an all femme band called the hex girls ( come for me ) , goth and proud ??? a really big horror movie fan , pansexual demigirl representinggg ! always has bruises and cuts , dried blood covers their skin a lot where they miss it or just don’t care to hide it , also has quite a few scars from where she’s cut too deep ( some maybe on accident , some maybe on purpose ).

( TW: blood ) ella’s very creative ! they like to read , write , make art — out of blood lol she uses blood of all types to create a lot of art. she takes blood baths ( animal blood ) occasionally on the full moon , drinks animal blood during certain rituals , etc. also super into bone and taxidermy , you can definitely find her at deblanc’s. they also like to haunt the cemetery and creep around spotlight cinema , film is a big passion of hers. 

( TW: drugs & alcohol ment. , blood ) DOES imbibe lol a partaker of alcohol ( prefers animal blood with red wine or vodka ) and certain drugs. ella definitely smokes weed & cigarettes , they enjoy partying just like the rest but she’s more reserved and likes to people watch.

okay so it’s getting late and i can’t believe how long this intro actually took me to finish tweaking , but if you want to plot with me pls pls pls hit me up bc i’d love to do some stuff !! my tumblr DMs are always open and you can always hmu on discord too !! i also write bryce winslow ( milo ventimiglia FC ) but you likely know that lol. i’m sure there’s more i could say about arabella honestly , but if you have any specific things you’d like to know or it seems like i left something out or need to take a second look at something i’d appreciate any / all feedback. can’t wait to get some replies out , but that might have to wait until the morning. @phqextras​

#DOSSIER. #phqintro #TO BE TAGGED. #she like actually has tags #i swear #like already done #bless up #swear to post them tomorrow #BLOOD TW #DRUGS TW #ALCOHOL TW #INJURY TW

[sherryaptx4869]

Put a Ring on It

A gift for @jackel-gull happy holidays! 😊

Prompt: Coffee shop AU

(Also on ao3)

---

“Excuse me Ma’am, a muffin from that handsome gentleman over there,” the female staff interrupted Shiho as she is very busy typing at her laptop.

She looked over to the direction the staff is pointing to. She is in a rush because her laboratory report is due in just a few minutes. She needs to proofread everything before passing her output to her very strict professor, thus every minute counts. She’s a bit irritated that her momentum is ruined by the ‘gentleman’ the staff is pertaining to.

When she turned to look, the man waved at her. She merely nodded and proceeded to hunch over her laptop. She likes to do her academic papers at Poirot Café because 1) she gets the space she needs, 2) they really have delicious bread and pastries plus their drinks are top-tier, 3) they also have strong wifi connection. 4) It’s also a ten-minute walk from the university she is attending. Very convenient.

Five minutes before the deadline, she breathed a sigh of relief when she hit the send button with her report as an attachment to an email she sent to her professor. She massaged her temples and briefly closed her eyes keeping the impending headache at bay. She only has fifteen minutes before her next class starts. She allowed herself to relax for a bit when she sensed another presence at the table she is currently occupying.

She smelled him before she saw him. She smelled a faint, subtle smell that is not overpowering. Her trained observation skills as a scientist approves of his choice of perfume.

She opened her eyes, removed her earphones and eyed him. Up close, the guy looked just about her age- probably in his 4th year of college too. She noticed his lean body, and his calves are well-defined. She noticed a tan line in his arm when he waved earlier. He’s probably into sports.

She raised her eyebrow and regarded the stranger.

“Hi, I’m Kudo Shinichi and you are?” he said, flashing her a smile as he held out his hand for a handshake.

“And I was just leaving,” she said as she gathered her laptop, her papers and her books, stacked them all in her backpack and leaving not even sparing a backward glance.

---

“Wow, that girl is something.” Heiji teased Shinichi for the nth time.

“I wish I was there to see it when your ego was deflated and brought you back to earth,” Heiji continued. “I mean man, she rejected Kudo Shinichi, the great detective of the East!” Heiji is now clutching his stomach from laughing too hard, tears at the corner of his eyes.

Shinichi glared at him but that did not stop Heiji from laughing.

“Should I wait for you to finish laughing or are we doing detective work on her?” he asked Heiji.

“Huh, what work?” That caught Heiji’s attention.

“Returning this to its rightful owner,” Shinichi said as he fished a card from his pocket.

So Miyano Shiho is the name of the beautiful, auburn-haired woman.

---

In her rush to gather her things earlier, Shiho did not notice her library card slipped and fell to the floor of the café. Now, she stood at the heavenly doors of the library but not quite entering because her library card is missing. She meant to return the books and browse for other titles. Without her card, she couldn’t really enter, but what’s more important is that she can’t loan out books.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Upon checking, she saw she got an email from an unlisted account.

“Hello Miyano-san, I got your email address from the library card you dropped at Poirot Café earlier today. If you want, I can go to your university and return it there. – Kudo Shinichi, Detective of the East”, she noticed he’s studying at another top university in Japan from his email address. So he is the famous detective of the east.

“If it’s not too much to ask, I can meet you back at Poirot Café in thirty minutes. I just need to finish some stuff here and I’ll go over there,” she replied.

“Okay, I’ll see you then,” is his instant reply.

---

Shiho debated on meeting the stranger. Even if he is Kudo Shinchi, strangers are not to be trusted. And he’s definitely a stranger.

Dang it, her loaned books would have to be returned three days from now and if she doesn’t return them on time, she will accumulate penalties for her overdue books. She won’t be able to borrow more books on top of that.

She really has to meet with the stranger if she wanted her library card back. It will take a week for the library to process lost ID cards. And she needed hers asap.

She made up her mind, she’s meeting him and get it over with.

---

It’s 6:30pm. Upon her entrance at the Poirot Café for the second time that day, she immediately looked around and searched for some dark brown-haired guy. There were a few college students openly ogling the very handsome barista, Amuro-san. She spotted Shinichi at the back of the café. She approached him.

“Kudo-kun,” she tentatively called out to get his attention.

“Oh hi, Miyano-san.” He said as he got up to his feet and pulled the chair for her to sit.

“Thank you.”, she said.

“About earlier, I’m sorry if I came on as an arrogant guy. I was just being friendly with people who have the same interests as I do.” he offered an explanation.

She gave her a questioning look.

“Well, I saw you carrying Arthur Conan Doyle’s book and I got a bit excited to see a fellow Sherlockian fan,” he continued.

“I see. I was in a hurry myself earlier and I just don’t like dealing with strangers especially when I’m in a hurry. I didn’t want to be late for class,” she said without more ado.

“I also enjoy reading mystery novels, it’s just that I need my library card to borrow books from the lib.” She offered.

He handed her lib card and as his fingers skimmed over her hands, she felt a zap from the point of contact. Apparently, he felt it too.

To ease the sudden awkwardness of the situation, he said “Why don’t we start over? I’m Kudo Shinichi”

“I’m Miyano Shiho,” she said and shook hands with him.

“Shiho,” he repeated testing the roll of her name on his tongue.

The sparks from their hands touching is undeniably there. They quickly let go of each other’s hands and pretended to go over the menu. Shiho felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and she felt warm. Shinichi on the other hand felt his face flush. This beautiful woman elicited such a boyish response from him is something he could not rationalize.

They found out more about each other as the night deepens. From the café, they went to take a walk at the park. When it is apparent that they need to get some rest, Kudo offered to walk her home in her dorm.

The night has a certain chill to it, “It’s really nice talking to you Kudo-kun”, Shiho said as she’s getting ready to enter the building.

“We should do this again sometime, if it’s not too much to ask, Shiho” Shinichi replied.

“It’s too much given my schedule, but I’d like that,” Shiho said. She smiled before darting inside.

As Shinichi walked back to his own dorm, he mused over the evening. He got a big smile on his face even when Heiji kept one pestering him to share what happened with Shiho.

---

They fell in the same routine, meeting at the café, going on a trip together and having conversations about deep things, shallow things, whatever comes their way. They went out for a year. By then, Shiho graduated and is already working as a university researcher and Shinichi is on his first year of taking criminal law while still extending assistance to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

On Christmas day, they are at their favourite café where they first encountered each other.

“Do you remember the first time you rejected me here?” Shinichi asked Shiho.

“I may have remembered a little bit of that,” Shiho smirked.

“Heiji kept on rubbing it in my face how pitiful I looked back then,” Shinichi relayed.

“You need that to keep you grounded before your inflated ego take you away,” Shiho said before drinking her coffee.

“Heiji said that too. You’re in cahoots with that guy?” Shinichi pouted.

Shiho merely laughed. Her laugh is music to his ears. Not to be cliché but it just is. He never thought that this wonderful woman is willing to spend time with him. He hoped she still feels the same way for the rest of their lives.

Before his thoughts strayed any further, he gave her his Christmas present and planted a kiss on her mouth. It’s a bath bomb designed for aromatherapy. Her job at the research laboratory seemed to take a toll on her lately, she also catches colds easily.

Back at her apartment, she decided to use the bath bomb Shinichi gave her. She took a book by Agatha Christie to read while she soaked in the tub with the bath bomb still fizzing. She is basking at the sweet, floral scent from the lavender essential oil when her curiosity is piqued by a floating material. There were no fun additives for aesthetics such as glitter and flower petals in Shinichi’s present so why is there a floating thing at the tub? She grabbed the thing and a smile made its way on her face. Hmmn, she might play a little prank on Kudo-kun tomorrow when they see each other.

---

The following day when they met each other to eat lunch at the Kudo residence,

“How was your sleep?” Shinichi inquired when they were settled on his car on the way to the Kudo mansion.

“It’s good. Thanks for the special oils in the bath bomb, they really cleared my thoughts.” She purposefully avoided mentioning the ring embedded in the bath bomb.

“Did you find anything to your liking?” Shinichi pressed on.

‘He’s not his usual blunt, confident self,’ Shiho noted. ‘He’s skirting around the ring topic.’

“Well, I liked the lavender scent. I’d like to try the one with eucalyptus too, it clears the sinus,” she still did not give the answer he clearly wanted to hear.

He merely nodded. After that, he stopped speaking. Shiho made it look like she busied herself on her phone.

He’s clearly upset that Shiho did not find his surprise. It’s written all over his face, from his grip to the steering wheel.

They stopped by at a flower shop to buy flowers for Yukiko, Shinichi’s mom. While they are waiting for the store clerk to wrap the flowers,

“Shin, your phone pinged several times already,” Shiho informed Shinichi.

He checked and is a bit taken aback when his notification box is about to explode from congratulatory messages and best wishes. He clicked to see that Shiho tagged him in a post. His jaw nearly touched the floor when he turned to look at a smirking Shiho who put up her ten fingers on the air flexing his claim on her.

In her post where Shinichi is tagged, she uploaded a picture of her left hand wearing the exquisite ring with the caption, “Does this ring make me look engaged?”

Shinichi captured her in an embrace and kissed her hand.

“Yes, you look engaged and you look amazing with the ring too, future Mrs. Kudo” he whispered in her ear before fully capturing her lips with a kiss that is the promise of a lifetime together.

#coaiss2019 #coai #secret santa #@coai #shinshi #kudo shinichi #miyano shiho #coffee shop au #@jackel-gull

[vaingloriosa]

the ultimate tagged masterpost

so, i have been slacking in returning y’all’s tagged games and i felt really bad because some of them were writing tag games...and i had nothing to show for. HOWEVER! i have made a sort of bounce back with a lot of friends supporting me :)

let’s kick things off, huh?

1) “ six sentence snippet tag” tagged by @thedragonkween (im love u!) and @the-darklings (CHILE love u as well!)

here’s y’all’s king quentin beck!! also, i think this is...six sentences...

Quentin isn’t sure why he continues to twiddle with the gold band around his ring finger while he’s not performing in front of an audience.

After every debriefing, he takes a bow as the curtain draws before him, the spotlight diminishing from his view, he can’t help but reach for it. The ring acts like some sort of tether, bound somewhere between the role Quentin plays and something far fetched...a yearning feeling that breaks his own heart at times. He can’t quite find the words to express how he feels but he knows to ignore such foolish longing.

Focus, Beck.

Focus.

2) “author questionnaire tag” tagged by @veanery (gracias, mi amiga!!) and @deviantramblings (MISS. LAUREN!! MWAH!!)

fandoms you write for: bruh moment, it changes almost every single day or sumn. i predominately write for marvel and star wars however i have written for john wick, devil may cry 5, stranger things, and d*troit: b*come h*man in the past. i thought about writing for rdr2 hehe

where you post: if you don’t find my work here, you can find me at ao3 under the pseudo “zebracakes”. fair warning, i do not upload all my stories there unless it’s a personal story that i think my readers over there will appreciate as well. so, if u think u see my work on wattpad or whatever y’all mfs use, that ain’t me!

most popular one-shot: Under the Twinkling Stars is a fake wedding date!john wick x reader story that honestly never thought would take off the way that it did. nearly 2k notes! it was originally a request...like wow kudos to op

most popular multi-chapter story: haha....ahh, i accidentally deleted my multi-series story but it was my one and only so there ain’t no answer here

favorite story you’ve wrote: hands down it’s νοσταλγία. this loki x reader story is something that was written in the spur of the moment and it’s about my favorite trope of all time (soulmate au). i tried a new approaching to writing and i am really happy with the outcome!! sometimes i forget that i actually wrote it sjdsajlda

a story you were nervous to post: like hannah said, all of them. authors always tend to be their own worst critics and i am no different. funny enough, i’ve actually taken down some stories i felt were just...not my strongest because they were a little embarrassing to have them up on display. 

how do you choose your titles: hmm, great question! i know a lot of authors use lyrics as their titles nd like...i wish i had that kinda brand. most of the times, the title ties into the story and though it’s never stated in the story, it relates to what the story is about. some of my more “adventurous” titles revolve around foreign languages and sometimes inspired by song titles.

do you outline: HELL NAH! i have a vague concept, open up an empty text post, and ROLL WITH IT. however, with some stories, i do take a little bit of time to pinpoint crucial moments of the story but other than that...i just wing it, bro.

complete: what the fuck does this mean?? how many stories i’ve completed?? umm on this blog it’s 53? i think? i was counting fast. i did have more pero i deleted a lot of them during a spiral lmaoo

in-progress: according to my drafts, it’s 15 and they are all OVER the place. however, i do not plan on writing all of them. big sad let’s pour one out

coming soon: i know i piqued some of y’all’s interests when i said i’m stepping into the mysterio x reader fic world so i got sumn in the kitchen for y’all. surprisingly...if anyone is up to it....there’s some dbh leftovers in the fridge...

do you accept prompts: of course i always do! though motivation has been a fickle thing so...bear with me and understand if i don’t take your request.

upcoming story you are most excited to write: quentin x reader angst that has me waking up sometimes to write sumn down for it. without giving too much away, it deals with grief, heartache, longing, and...time travel? brooOo i’m the only one excited like it’s just me, omi, nur, and dori shrieking in the woodlands

3) “10 things tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (thank u, madame!)

list 10 things that make me happy :)

good music to dance to

air conditioning

cats

kind words

cold water

ibuprofen

soft blankets

pdf files

keanu reeves

finding money that you forgot u had

4) “last line tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (thank u again, ma’am), @the-darklings (*tips fedora*), and @veanery (u tagged me so LONG ago EYE)

this is for that one quentin beck x reader story i was talking about.

“Is he currently sleep walking?“

this is the last thing i typed on my draft. however, on my notes app....she is just all over the place...idk where she begins and ends. it’s utter chaos

5) “21 questions” tagged by @thefvlcon (thnak u, kayla!!)

Name / Nickname: it’s anjelica but i go by my nickname “angel”

Sign: scorpio sun, aquarius moon, scorpio rising (?) aka i’m all sorts of dumbass

Height: 5 ft 4

Hogwarts House: i’m only interested in y’all’s hufflepuff bc the mascot is cute and apparently they live near the kitchen??

Last thing I Googled: .....electric shaver....don’t @ me bro only omi knows

Favourite musician/s: bro :// umm, mitski, kshmr, lil nas x, bastille, megan thee stallion, foxes, the killers

Last song I listened to: 10,000 nights by alphabeat! such an old school bop y’all BEST listen to it

Song stuck in my head: it ranges from strawberry blond by mitski or barbed wire by rogue

Following: 78

Followers: on this writing blog, 1,861. my main blog has 1,464

Do you get asks: once in awhile hehe

Amount of Sleep: fluctuates from nine hours to straight up four hours asjkdsalk WHEW

Lucky Number: 7? it’s always been 7

What I’m Wearing: my pajamas aka a ratty light blue avengers shirt from walmart with holes and weird stains and pajama shorts with lil stars and moons from walmart as well lmaooo

Dream Trip: PUMPKIN SOUP WORLD TOUR

Instruments: flute and piano...i am a Lady

Languages: english and spanish because i’m basic and unoriginal

Favourite Song/s: of all time?? BABA YETU!!!!!!!!!!

Random Fact: wild how some of y’all don’t know that i have a twin sister. we ain’t look alike pero u came out from the same mom so

Aesthetic: exposed brick, warm tones, neon lighting, pink sunsets, matte, possums

6) “find the word tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (gosh it’s just u nd me and these tag games huh!!)

rules are you are given a set of words to search them in your wips. my set of challenge words are:  tear(s), snow, sun, laugh

omg...i couldn’t....find any of those words in any of my wips asjkdsajkldsa WHEW this was quite....uneventful lmao sorry to disappoint :(( however, i did find some with the word “laughter”...does that count?

start from the beginning (connor x reader)

Hank can’t contain his laughter as he wraps his arms across his chest and shakes his graying hair. He knows that when Connor whips out his formal title out, it’s all in a joking, familial matter. “Oh, and you’re gonna use me as well? Shit, kid, might as well take my house while you’re at it.”

untitled bucky x reader

Your laughter sounds like a sweet melody, one he’s heard over and over again yet he never gets tired of hearing it. Bucky watches as you stand up and walk towards him to take the mason jars out of his hands. His eyes look down to observe a golden wedding band around your finger which prompts him to look at his own left hand. Lo and behold, gold.

oh hold up i found “laugh” lmaooo

untitled connor x reader

“Hello? Is anyone home?” He waves his hand over your face to snap you out of your daze. Your reaction makes Connor’s whole body shake as he laughs with his entire being. A shy smile grows as you lick the seam of your lips and giggle softly to yourself. The candles on the cake flicker, the flames creating a hypnotic trance as they dance to and fro.

(if it sounds ooc, there’s a reason for that that you’ll find out IF I EVER PUBLISH IT LMAOO)

WAIT! I FOUND “TEAR(S)”!!

untitled bucky x reader

Tears prickle at the edge of your eyes but you must not show the fear, the exact physiological response they’re anticipating. You slow down your erratic breathing, trying your best to calm your racing heart. Your eyes shift from your boots to the containment they are keeping your Bucky in. He is sound asleep, a false sense of peace and equilibrium. You want to caress his face and to press your body against him once again to remember the feeling you’ve lost years ago.

7) “ writing style alignment tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (u a real one)

most definitely a chaotic planster! defined by:

has an idea for a plot when they start

who writes things down??

has to assemble scenes into a frankendraft

my method is incredibly messy when it comes to writing. usually there is an idea (thanks, nick fury), which is usually triggered by a scene i want to develop. sometimes all i have is a scene but no plot. sometimes i have a concept of a plot with no real direction. AM I VALID??

8) “ playlist shuffling tag” tagged by @the-darklings (*jenna marbles voice* oh hell yeah) and @veanery (oh my gosh this tag is from many MOONS ago)

since my main playlist only has like five songs, i will go into my general playlist where it’s a literal...what even is it...

oriana by roger zarzour

focus by blackcode

superhuman by crystal knives

adios by ricky martin

take me (not your dope remix) by jikay

all you need to know by gryffin

this is love by hardwell

can’t hear a word you’re saying by x-change

kay gayi chull by the kapoor & sons cast

music del corazon by josh groban

9) “about me tag” tagged by @veanery (brooo thank u), @pointedly-foolish (ayy lmaoo suh dude), @deviantramblings (this was a popular game huh), and @wrinkledparchment (miss. lexi said rights!)

name: angel

gender: female

birthday: november 10th

relationship status: single

favorite color: sunflower yellow

top 3 ships: besides my usual self-ships, let’s do some...actual ships. finnrey, thorkyrie, finnpoe

last song: 学園天国 by clc

last movie: *checks letterboxd* spider-man: far from home lmaooo asjkdsjakl

10) “OTP challenge “ tagged by @reyskywclker (thank u for my rights, miss. parker)

besides the ones that i said in the previous tag, here’s ten more

john/abigail

han/leia

rey/jessika

sam/bucky

thor/bruce

carol/maria

t’challa/nakia

connor/north

peter/mj (mcu)

fuck i literally don’t ship a lot omg i am running on FUMES uhhhh....tiana/prince naveen

11) “about me” tagged by @reyskywclker (this is literally from earlier this year eye...)

Q1. Relationship status?

single and printing out boyfriend applications as we speak

Q2. Favourite colour?

right now it’s yellow :) it definitely fluctuates with what’s going tf on with my life. real life mood ring

Q3. Top 3 ships?

i’m going self-ships because it’s MY sleepover!! loki/me but two more times

Q4. Lipstick or chapstick?

MATTE LIQUID LIPSTICK IS THE ONLY WAY TO GOOOO

Q5. Last song I listened to?

came here for love by sigala

Q6. Last movie I watched?

spidey far from homie

12) “aesthetics tag” tagged by @deviantramblings (mwah!)

honey and lemon or milk and sugar // musicals or plays // lemonade or iced tea //strawberries or raspberries // winter or summer // beaches or forests // diners or cafés //unicorns or dragons // gemstones or crystals // hummingbirds or owls // fireworks or sparklers // brunch or happy hour // sweet or sour // rome or amsterdam // classic or modern art // sushi or ramen // sun or moon // polka dots or stripes // macaroon or croissants // glitter or matte //degas or seurat // aquariums or planetariums // road trip or camping trip //colouring books or water colour // fairy lights or candles

13) “about tag” tagged by @obsiidio (o hy mgosdhashdja HELLLLOOO!!)

name: angel, formally known as anjelica age: 24 lmaooo favourite colour: yellow!! when you made this account: may 26, 2010 at 8:40:44 PM follower count: 1,861?? i think? superpower: night owl favourite drink: ICE COLD WATER, BABEYY! a song(s) you love right now: devil inside me by kshmr dream career: for now....doing something fun while getting paid dream vacation: tokyo and seoul aka just the pumpkin soup world tour hogwarts house: hufflemfpuff fuck jk rowlings for sorting me into gryffindor favourite character this week: DR. JOHNNY WILCOX!!!! HELL YEAH!! christmas or halloween: halloweem

and THAT’S THAT ON THAT! whew, that was...a lot of energy. this took me two days to finish. for those who have not been tagged in these challenges, feel free to tag me in any of these :) you do NOT have to do each and everyone of them ajskdjsal 

#about me

[izumisays]

dear yuletide author

Thank you so much for reading this and taking part in this wonderful annual conspiracy!

First of all, I hope you have a lovely time! If any of the fandoms below pique your interest, I’m delighted already, and ready to hear all the stories you want to tell.

Fandoms: Nirvana in Fire, Spinning Silver, In Other Lands, Thunderbolt Fantasy, Grasshopper Jungle

As for reading preferences, I’m happy with a wide variety of tones and genres, of any rating, ranging anywhere from lighthearted antics to dramatic casefics. But the core of all the stories I love has always been character interaction and interplay of their competences. 

How the characters play off each other and bring out their best/worst, how they’d react to a divergence of events, how true they’d stay to themselves in a different setting -- I love fanfiction for allowing us to reconnect with our favourite stories time and again by asking these questions. And there are so many ways to do it! To name a few favourites, I’m always game for POV hijinks, a missing scene, a casefic, canon expansion, backstories and what-ifs.

You may notice that quite a few of my requests lean towards shipfic – those, too, are welcome in a variety of tones – but I also tried to include openings for gen ideas if that’s your jam. Additionally, while it is not usually my top interest, I don’t have anything against AUs if there is something that you are itching to explore: I tend to enjoy them for a new aesthetic that fleshes out the favoured character dynamics in a new light, or a fusion that redefines the playing ground to allow the characters to exhibit their core competences in new and exciting ways.

I would be very grateful if you could avoid a/b/o and similar kinktropes, played-straight soulmate fic, and character interpretation that runs contrary to their core values. If in doubt, please reach out to me on anon - the askbox is open!

NIRVANA IN FIRE: Mei Changsu, Xiao Jingyan

Is this a complex, narratively inevitable historic tapestry strangling people with its treads, full of delicious politicking and identity porn? Yes, it is.

Is my burning – nay, primal – desire so simple as to smoosh two faces together and watch them kiss? Yes, it is :’)

I mean, I will obviously not say no if the kissing is giftwrapped in the said tapestry of beautiful, politicky plot, but the fever I can’t get out of my system is this: LET THEM KISS, GODDAMMIT. LET THEM BE HAPPY. I welcome canon divergences, alternative endings, fix-its, insert eps and codas where it looks like they would have kissed (erm, or at least confronted each other in a way that would inevitably end with them making out) if only Mei Changsu wasn’t so caught up in self-loathing and fluffy foxfur coats, and Jingyan didn’t talk too loudly about his so dead, so very dead beautiful ex to hear Mei Changsu weep stoically into his beautiful white furs.

I adore Prince Jing. He is 90% cheekbones and 20% heartbroken pouting over his so very dead friends, and all of it noble and awkward and stubborn and deserving of happiness. Mei Changsu is ridiculous, and capable, and twisted into pretzels of his own creation: not above gloating over his enemies while daintily dipping cookies into his tea, he gets too caught up in weaving the tapestry to notice he is a part of it.  Pull him off his high horse, Jing! Render him helpless by being yourself! Do something about being hopelessly charmed with each other, through resentment, loss, bitter pining, and narrative inevitability! JUSTKISSALREADY.gif!!

 SPINNING SILVER: Mirnatius

Spinning Silver is a beautiful story, a polyphony of voices that echo the key themes with poignance in individual tales coming together into a bigger picture: admirable female characters, complicated families, bargains and stakes and wordless bonds, all spun and woven together with so much care and craft! While I really liked the whole journey, it’s two characters in particular at whom I’d like to get a closer look.

Irina and Mirnatius: both shipfic and/or gen. Irina the ruler, with an iron will and unwavering hand: I would absolutely like to explore the court life under her rule, after the events of the book. In between running a country and cleaning up a demonic mess, does she find a thought to spare about Mirnatius? Does she harbour any resentment or sense of obligation, or indulgently tolerates him as part of the ornamental royal regalia? Is there a role she envisages him playing? Does she box him into that role, or allow herself to be surprised?

MIRNATIUS, hands-down my favourite POV in the book. How does he get on after demon loses his hold on him? What kind of person he is on his own? I’d like to think he doesn’t lose all his edges, and perhaps gets high-headed and displaced now that his mind is vacated off its demonic freeloader, and there is a quest for find his own place in the new reality, before he can be that dramatic artistic bisexual with no interest in statecraft that Irina gleamed in him.

How do the power dynamics between them change, and how much of that stays the same? Is there any genuine love to be found between them, eventually? (The answer doesn’t have to be yes – for all that they are the same species, I tend to think their circumstances are more complicated than Miryem and the Staryk’s, and less forgiving.)

IN OTHER LANDS: Luke Sunborn

Elliot is a spectacular narrator. Novel-shaped case in point: In Other Lands.

Having said that, what I really, really want to see is a story that makes Luke a narrator, or otherwise puts him at the center. I have it on good authority that he makes one fucking adorable narrator (novella-shaped case in point: Wings in the Morning), but why stop there, right?

Luke/Elliot, either post-canon or slightly amending canon, is always a delight. Luke crushing on Elliot for years in a resigned, semi-unaware (or aware!) manner - he gives Elliot Dale’s name only as a distraction, to get Elliot off his back, and watches with horrified eyes how every member of his family is suddenly out there to set him up with the wrong boy! Luke handling the thought of Elliot the boyfriend with awkwardness unbefitting a Trigon champion (granted, Elliot is kinda more prickly than an average glass ball). Luke having 110% confidence in Elliot and admiring him sass people into submission from the sidelines.

A look at Luke’s friendship with Serene - completely compatible with Luke forever crushing on Elliot, just saying ^^. I suspect lack of Elliot’s Serene goggles could do marvels to building nuance to her character: a little less emphasis on gender-reversed dudebro comedy, a little more of someone who is clever enough to balance multiple things, connect the dots, and learn, and stand by what she believes is right.

Competence kinkkk. Forever admiring the bookish people, refusing to stop trying to catch up, and zero time spent being conceited about own achievements while fully embracing his role of a champion and defender - that’s the Luke I love <3 Luke’s brand of leadership & charisma - an introverted champion, well-loved by people and easily tired of company of not his people.

Figuring out life after graduation! Casefic of them solving a mystery and preventing a war breakout! Getting assignments and storming the castles! Building cross-cultural competence by throwing Elliot at new people and watching him sign up new pen friends and treaties!

Sunborn family fic! A holiday get together? Drunken exchange of family stories? Another terrible competition that Elliot boycotts? Rachel reading Luke’s letters from year one and with great amusement observing the progression of his “THAT ELLIOT” feelings. (I would so die to read an epistolary fic that documents Luke’s Elliot problems) God I love the Sunborns, especially Rachel <3

I’m not particularly fond of Dale, on understanding that he got enough screentime already, so I’d be grateful if you didn’t center the fic around him. Obviously no objections to him as part of class ensemble, whose names Luke continuously fails to remember.

If you are writing a Luke/Elliot shipfic (which is a prospect I would whole-heartedly welcome!), just a note to say that I don’t get particular kicks out of wingfic poetics. I mean, I’m alright with that as part of the “golden and beautiful” package and acknowledgement that Elliot sure gets his kick out of them, but I personally find wings-as-harpy legacy and associated emotional baggage/pragmatism mix Luke feels on the subject more interesting to investigate. All the rest of their ship chemistry is very much welcome, in whatever proportion you enjoy doing it most.

 THUNDERBOLT FANTASY: Rin Setsua; Sho Fukan

I LOVE THIS SELF INDULGENT WUXIA NONSENSE AND I CANNOT LIE! 

If you had told me a year ago that I would commit a definitely not-insignifiant amounts of emotional investment into a Taiwanese puppet show written by Urobutcher, I’d have laughed in your face. I am so glad my lovely friends know me better than I do, and tied me to a chair long enough to show me the first few episodes, and smugly watched me breeze through two seasons and a movie of this tropey goodness. 

Sanfan is a mixture UTTER GLEE and deep fondness for the genre staples, self-aware and masterful playthrough of all the wuxia tropes in the book, and one goddamn well-constructed story. It plays the tropes straight, calls them out with a knowing wink, walks the tightrope between the two with panache, and just as you are relaxed and enjoying this trapeze show, it grins cheekily at you, sets the discoball on fire and pulls a bunny out of a hat.  It’s DELIGHTFUL and fun and lovingly crafted, just like a good passion project should be.

I want anything that capitalizes on the absolutely hilarious dynamics between Rin Setsua and Sho Fukan (and while personally I end up using the Japanese versions of their names more often, please feel free to go with the Chinese names if you prefer). Sho Fukan does not want any of those heroic quests, he’s the human equivalent of been there, done that mood, and he just wants to REST and hopefully dump a bunch of magical murderswords someplace safe. Rin Setsua is a Totally Respectable and Non-Villainous Member of Society, of which he will inform you firsthand in the most high spoken and verbose way possible, and maybe even produce paperwork that has definitely not been tampered with. He harbours no ulterior motives, ever, and does not trail behind Sho Fukan for any reason beyond the pleasure of his company, and his mission to personally victimize and cockblock every morally derelict villain in two countries, by no-one’s request. 

Whether you go shipfic (yiss!) or canon levels teamup circus (also yiss!), don’t hold back your horses. Everything about this is Extra, and should continue to be so <3 

GRASSHOPPER JUNGLE: Robby Brees

Do you ever, like, read an insanely cyclical, epic zombie apocalypse book that is probably narrated from the rubbles of the fallen fourth wall, and walk away softly clutching at your heart, whispering “Oh Robby”?

I sure did.

I mean, I definitely loved all the obsessive, crazy, cyclical shit the book did. It’s a trip and a half! Austin is a hilarious guide to the crazyland of zombie apocalypse and multiple identity crises, and I enjoyed him tremendously. If you want to dabble in recreating that, I’ll happily read it! But my heart longs to answer some important questions like, Will Robby Ever Get Appreciation He Deserves, Do They Get Laid, and most importantly, What The Fuck Happened That Night When They Got Drunk and Shit Got Transcendental. (I feel it in my heart of hearts that their dicks must have, or at least should have, touched.)

Play however you like with it -- coda, AU, fixit, crack (oh god, if there was a canon that was borderline crack itself), futurefic -- I’m gonna look forward to any and all permutations.

A note to say that I don’t harbor any ill feelings towards Shann! My primary urge is to coddle and adore Robby, and I leave it up to you to negotiate the hows and whys :) 

FWIW, I have a copy of Exile from Eden on my hands, but haven’t cracked it open yet. It’s entirely up to you if you want to include whatever is in there: I’m going to be pleased with just GJ material as is! If I do read Exile anytime soon, and if it significantly changes my views on the subject, I’ll add a note to that effect.

#dear creator letter #yuletide #yuletide 2019

[klphotoawards]

A Personal Observation

How The Winning Portraits Were Selected for KLPA – Fly-on-the-wall Feedback

The Kuala Lumpur International Photoawards (KLPA) exhibition for 2018 is currently open from 8th to 17th September at White Box, Publika. For those of you who are going to visit the exhibition, you may be wondering how the winners and finalists portraits were chosen by the judges. You may be curious to know perhaps because you may find that some of the photos are not generally what would be considered ‘beautiful’. Or you may be interested in submitting your photos for next year’s contest (which is typically around February to April). Knowing something about the judging process and what the judges are looking for would be advantageous if you intend to join the contest.

A few months ago, I was fortunate to be chosen to be the only independent observer at the judging session for this year’s contest by being selected via a lucky draw. As a fly-on-the-wall attending the judging session held over two days over the weekend of 19-20 May, I had the opportunity to see how the judges came to their decision in selecting the finalists and winners that are now being exhibited.

This is the tenth year of the KLPA and every year there are five judges. These were Silke Schmickl from Germany who is a curator at the National Gallery Singapore; Julia Durkin who is a photo festival director for the Auckland Festival of Photography in New Zealand; Ihiro Hayami, director of Tokyo Institute of Photography in Japan; Gwen Lee, co-founder of the Singapore International Photography Festival, and Fadhil Kamarudin, a lecturer at the Faculty of Art & Design, UiTM Malaysia. As in past years, the judges were a mix of local and foreign nationals but all with strong credentials.

It was an enlightening experience to spend two full days at KL Journal Hotel listening to the discussions and sometimes enthusiastic exchanges as the judges defended their favorite photos. Apart from the five judges gathered around a table with a 27-inch iMac monitor in the darkened meeting room, there were also three KLPA organisers including founder Steven Lee and Nurul Munira ‘Moon’ Rohaizan who I must thank for giving me this unique opportunity.

For the KLPA contest submissions, in previous years there were occasionally theme-specific categories, such as Stillness and Distance for 2016 and Defining Family for 2017, together with an Open category but this being the tenth anniversary, there was no specific theme this year so the scope was wide open. There was no chief judge so every judge had equal say although of course as in any group discussion there were a few who are more vocal than others but ultimately consensus prevailed.

There were 925 single photo submissions. Initial judging was by a process of elimination with the photos being projected and tagged in Lightroom as Yes, No or Maybe. The single images were quite quickly reduced to around 100 images as the judges were unanimous in rejecting the obvious ones that did not make the grade. After that began the more serious discussions about the quality of the selected images to whittle it down to 30 images. The description of the images was also delved into if an image was interesting enough to warrant further study but the first impression of an image in terms of subject and technical quality was of paramount importance. There were times an image was interesting enough but the judges quickly lost interest if the image didn’t say anything beyond being a good portrait.

A similar process was conducted for judging the photo stories of which there were 120 submissions. A photo story for KLPA submission should be between 5 to 12 images. The difference in judging was that the titles and descriptions were much more critical compared to judging the single images. The stories behind the photos had to add real meaning to the photos. This was where a well-written description made a significant difference in getting the attention of the judges. Who, what, when, where, why and how should be sufficiently described the photo. A catchy or insightful title also helps instead of one that only describes what the viewer can already see. After the first round of elimination, about 40 photo stories made the cut.

Then on the second day, the finalists and winners were chosen. After deciding on the finalists, there were more heated debates as judges first came up with their own short list of at least 5 images. A few strong images readily stood out as contenders by being the common choice among many of the judges. Finally, the most difficult part was for the judges to defend their choices and find a common ground to arrive at the winners as well for the ranking for both the singles images and photo stories.  

I understand that many photographers who have seen the photos of the KLPA finalists and winners over the years would immediately be struck by what seems like odd choices being selected and may be puzzled why some of the photos were chosen. I would say that this could be primarily due to the fact that salon photography, which has been widely practiced in Malaysia for a long time, tends to promote the beautiful as well as compositionally and technically excellent images as the main benchmark for what makes for a great image and the main criteria for selection for local contests and exhibitions. However, the photos selected for KLPA tends toward photography that is more representative of what is being exhibited in photo exhibitions in art galleries internationally. The background of the judges, who are familiar with curation for international exhibitions, is an indication of the type of images that they tend to favor. These are not photos that are merely eye candy, beautiful for the sake for showing beauty, but photos that represent something deeper, making a personal statement, highlight something newsworthy or depicting a different angle to a common subject.

In the first elimination round, images would be reviewed quickly so it is the impactful, unusual or quirky images that tended to attract attention but then again images that were too weird to the point of not making sense were also rejected. Striking the right balance means that images should be intriguing enough to pique the judges curiosity so that they want to know more about the subject.

Judges were also quick to discard images that were considered glamorous or too commercial, looking like fashion shots or staged purely for its aesthetics. Wedding photos and studio shots, especially with plain backgrounds, were also quickly out of contention. Of course, compositionally weak images, not correctly framed, with distracting backgrounds would be dismissed even if the actual portrait itself was good.

Processing of the images that was overdone was another feature that the judges were quite opposed to. However, it is not that post-processing was not allowed but it should suit the images and not be too obvious that it overshadows the subject. That being said, the judges can sometimes excuse a slight lack of technical quality in preferring a powerful and meaningful image over one that is purely technically excellent.

Photos that are too clichéd or have recurring themes also tend to be rejected as being too repetitive. An observation was made that there were many submissions of photos of hair as a prominent subject. Just because photos of people with unique hair featured in previous winners’ photos, submitting similar photos isn’t always the best strategy when others are thinking the same. Being unique stands a much better chance of being selected.

Lighting and posing the subject well is very important and slight nuances of facial expression conveying emotion can make or break an image. In terms of the presentation of the facial expression, the tendency has been toward the deadpan aesthetic which seems to be popular internationally. I suppose smiling for no apparent reason makes it look like a holiday shot. Staging is not frowned upon as long as there is a purpose to it and relates to the backstory of the photograph and not merely to compose a beautiful image purely for that in mind.

KLPA is a portraiture photo contest but the definition of portraiture accepted by the judges is quite wide and is open to interpretation so it is not just the classic close-up or three-quarter shot of a person facing the camera. More often it would be an environmental portrait shot which creates a story together with the accompanying title and description. In terms of definition, the images could overlap with what would be considered photojournalistic, travel, street, conceptual or even landscape photography as long as there is an element conveying a sense of people in the images with the environment playing a supporting role and does not overwhelm the portrait of the person depicted in the photo.

However, for the photo stories category, there is some liberty as to how the photos can qualify as a portraiture series since although not every single photo needs to have a prominent portrait of a person, the photos overall should give the viewer a deeper sense about the person, their situation and the place they inhabit. It’s a fine balance because including too few portraits in the series will also get the photo story rejected.

Submission for the photo stories is more difficult than the single images since it is not just the selection of photos that are important but sequencing of the images is key. A simple linear sequence would not usually be the best choice. A strong establishing image, pacing the sequence by giving the stronger images a break and a suitable concluding image makes for a more interesting story. Alternatively, a typological sequence, for example, something supposedly as simple as passport photographs, is another type of photo story that the judges liked but it must be accompanied with a really strong backstory.

Although the maximum number of photos for the photo story is 12, sometimes fewer images can make for a stronger story. A series sometimes failed to be selected just because it included photos which were not as compelling or did not tie in well with the overall story. Had the story been 7 images instead of 10, the judges would have liked it better. In this case, less is more.

Please note that the above comments are merely my personal observations and what I gathered as I witnessed the judging process this year with these particular judges. It obviously would be somewhat different from year to year with different judges but having followed KLPA since its inception 10 years ago and seen the photos of the finalists and winners over the years, I hope the points I have noted would be beneficially for all of us in seeking to tailor our photography towards the types of photos suitable for submission for KLPA. For those who are keen on submitting your photos next year, you would well be advised to download and study the past years’ exhibition catalogues which are all available online at https://www.klphotoawards.com/past-winners. Good luck!

Raja Indra Putra

7 September 2018

KLPA2018 WINNERS & FINALISTS EXHIBITION

8 to 17 September 2018, Whitebox @Publika Kuala Lumpur

Daily 10am - 7pm

#klpa #klpa2018 #photography #portraiture #kualalumpur #photocontests #judging #flyonthewall