#wonderful thing to awaken to…at noon lol
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WAIT, 39 IS BETTER?! WHAT THE HECK WAS IT BEFORE?! 😂 👀 (mm excellent choice tho 👌)
UWAAAAAA! 🥰 Snivy?? This is SO GOOD??? I’m gonna be honest with you, I too had the idea of Makoto using his mask to hide his sick days for the longest time. And it usually fools people because of the voice changer. And he’s really good at playing dumb. (he’s done it for 3 years)
But nah, you CAN’T fool a detective’s mind. Silly Makoto… xD Oh my god this is perfect 😂👌 And it’s so them. They’re just so silly x3
So I can see you may have read my fever color guide to making Yuma look not only pale but also flushed too. (with a 39 degree temperature? yep that checks out) You did really good! Also yeah. I’m starting to think the ice pack works better on him in terms of cooling since he has too many bangs for drawing a towel xD
I love that you wrapped Makoto in a blanket and him and yuma have matching slippers. Bigtime dumb roommate vibes. You’re not the only one who see’s these two are hypocrites on their sick days. It’s when they’re the MOST hypocritical to each-other lmao (also dang yuma you can stand with a 102 degree fever? You’re persistent… xD)
Wait, they don’t share the same bed??? 😂 jk
Anyway, This comic is just darling!! ❤️ Thanks so much for making it! I’ll cherish it! Better late than never! 👀👌🌡️
takes one to know one
a silly little comic of our favorite little guys being sick for @pixelatedraindrops! i'd like to think neither of them can really hide anything from each other lmao
spoilers under the cut!
now that's what i call self care!
#whumpcode#not mine#sick day challenge#makoyuma#i’m glad your wrist is better!#and also dw you’re totally valid#makoto getti g caught by yuma is a total given#it had to be drawn#I also love how annoyed yuma looks#I can HEAR him when he said MASK. OFF.#i adore this so much#thanks for joining the fun!!#i knew you’d make a good one since you love my two main targets :3c#yuma’s adorable and makoto’s a silly goober#wonderful thing to awaken to…at noon lol#thank you sm!!! 👌💜
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I really want sansa to meet brienne to see what she thinks of her. both bc she’ll meet the “true knight” she’s been praying for :’) and also bc brienne will challenge her views of women’s role in society. but what do you think brienne would think of sansa ?
yes i'm really looking forward to it too! I think I wrote something about this a couple years ago but their stories click together in such a sweet way.
Sansa entered the world thinking that beauty = virtue, and received such a harsh awakening that she's unsure whether there is any goodness left in the world. and Brienne has likewise insisted to herself that there is, and yet finds it's not always enough to defeat the horror of it all. I think in TWOW she's going to find herself in a similar position to a young Jaime, feeling somewhat nihilistic. I like the idea that their oath to Catelyn ultimately saves both Jaime and Brienne from this outlook - they both mean to see it fulfilled, no matter how bad things get.
so Sansa and Brienne kind of find each other at precisely the right time. Sansa is falling deeper into Littlefinger's machinations and losing sight of who she is, in the midst of all he wants her to be. life isn't so much a song anymore, but something more cynical. meanwhile Brienne is finding that the world is so much darker that she'd believed, and that good intentions aren't enough to save it.
but i think they can save each other in a way that noone else really could! where Brienne and Sansa have reminded Jaime and Sandor respectively that true knighthood exists, they're now at a point where they can remind one another of that.
Sansa will see again that true knighthood doesn't look as she once thought it did, but that it nonetheless exists. I think that through getting to know Brienne, she might also feel closer to Arya, realising that the differences between them aren't so great a chasm. Brienne's chafing with society might remind her of her sister too, and help her consider a different perspective so that there's a new openness when they meet again. and also I really really want Brienne to be able to tell Sansa how much Catelyn was thinking of her and how badly she wanted to be reunited.... like Sansa hasn't received any true empathy for the loss of her mother, and now here's Brienne who has mourned Cat herself and can offer true comfort to Sansa.... i cry
and then for Brienne's part, I really want Bri to have the satisfaction of knowing that she's fulfilling her oath to Cat, that she wasn't a fool to believe she could, and that in so doing she's found a girl who, though outwardly very different, is a lot like Bri herself. they both love songs and knights and want to believe the world is kind, and they can prove to each other that it is. and also Brienne has often experienced contempt from other girls and women (Cat was one of the few who didn't treat her with such), so I think it'll be nice for her to have a meaningful relationship with a new female character, and to feel accepted and respected by that person. idk I just feel like Sansa represents so much closure for Brienne and that they can really fortify each other.
that said I do think they'll initially be very confused and sceptical of each other lol, like Sansa is in disguise and has had to ally herself closely to Littlefinger, so she's going to struggle to open up to a stranger, much less go off with them. and Bri's going to wonder who the hell Alayne Stone is and also... apparently she's fine here in the Vale? i imagine lots of miscommunication where maybe Brienne has come all this way only for Sansa to be like... you can leave I have this under control.
but Brienne knows who Shadrich is so I imagine she can prove herself to Sansa by taking him out in some kind of mini boss, and then we know that GRRM's notes for AFFC said that Sansa will resolve at the end of her Vale arc to be Sansa Stark, and take the North. so can imagine Brienne helping her to return home, and secure Winterfell. the North will have lost the figurehead they'd believed to be Arya (but who was ofc Jeyne), who had kind of rallied them together... and I think Sansa's return will be where they find a new one out of left field. the kid they considered lost to the south, but who is returning north, maybe with the might of the Vale to help secure it once more. idk.
in any case, I've believed that Brienne and Jaime holding the two halves of Ice represent the fact that they will be helping to secure Winterfell again, and the futures of the Stark children. have said before that I do not see Brienne as a perpetual bodyguard for any Stark kid, but restoring them is a big part of her role for the remaining two books imo. I'd really like to see her meet Arya as well, I think the two will have really great rapport.
anyway that was a long answer but yeah in short. im excited about them.
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i so so so so so love the journey as well your mind OP YOUR MIND
since they go to different schools i imagined while reading what you said Yo if he doesn't live far far away cause i dont know where ketsubutsu and UA are but we know Shiketsu is hailed as the UA of the west it might not be too out of his way to walk Deku to school...WAIT I RUINED MY OWN IDEA Deku lives in the dorms by time he even meets him so he couldn't walk him to school but i think Yo is gayer then Deku just a little (ALOT) fruityer so his gay ass would run all the way from school to visit Deku if he doesn't drive cause Yo is a 3rd year i'll get into Deku being like flustered about dating older by like a year or two jfdzbhjbthd like its not even older but he's blasting out of proportions like "He must be like so mature" and he gets to know him and he's like "Immature little shit, im more responsible one here" in his mind LOL
I bet they talk on the phone all night long. I bet Yo likes to come through his window so nobody knows hes there in Deku's dorm cuddling with his boyfriend. Someone comes in and "WHO THE SHIT IS THAT DEKU DOUBLE???" cause they dont remember him from the license exam and since it's late hours Deku could play it off as "i dont know what your talking about, there was nobody in my room, you alright there?" AND ITS PROBABLY TODOROKI AND TODOROKI IS QUESTIONING HIS SANITY LMAO
Deku leaving at random times cause he's not telling them he's dating someone outside UA and everyone wondering where he's going. Like hes not gonna lie but hes not gonna tell them where hes going. "Im going out." THATS ALL comes back after a date of fighting dumbstruck cause they kissed and he's hungry as fuck.
"I like the scenario we set in the other ask, of them kissing for the first time mid-fight cause it would be hot and impulsive and not planned at all," ME TOO
"they wouldn't know the other was feeling like that. They both realize that there is something there after the kiss, Izuku would spend the week freaking out over it and Yo is like huh guess i do like him after all!" When i read this i thought of it this way, Yo didn't even know he himself was gay, like he was in denial of being gay until he was kissing him. OH SHIT IM GAY? I LIKE THIS??? WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? KISSING ANOTHER BOY?? HOLDING HIM? HES HOLDING ME TOO? I LIKE THIS??? my idea is that Yo is very chaotic in his headspace im sorry lanfrjksndvjfkt
"when they meet again (after 2 weeks cause Izuku likes to avoid it) Shindo is pretty chill about it and Midoriya is like .... ? is that it ? they decide not to rush into anything and just get to know each other better, so their relationship dynamic grows over time."
SEE I LIKE THIS, those 2 weeks are hell for Yo cause he's thinking about him morning noon and night. he wakes up thinking about him wondering why he wont call him or text him or try to talk about this but then again it might be a one time thing but disaster boy over here doesn't want it to be a one time thing maybe? he's questioning himself looking in the mirror wanting to see Izuku by his side, wanting him in his bed to cuddle with im sorry i see Yo as a little bitch baby i love him i mean this in a positive way when i call him a bitch baby.
If Yo finds out Deku is deleberly avoiding him he starts thinking Deku hates him or something or is anti gay or something and he's like "maybe i need to tell him no homo??? so we can keep being friends??"
this situation is so that meme that's like "Too bad your a boy cause if you were a girl i'd date you" they are fucking stupid i love them im sorry if these takes are not what your looking for im half joking half telling you my thoughts so don't take everything im saying complete seriousness.
Deku is the one not questioning anything cause he knows what being gay is, Bakugo will always be his gay awakening and he's openly bi just never brought it up around Yo, he doesn't know Yo doesn't really know anything about lgbt because he's around class 1A all the time and they are the most rainbow fucking people ever including his teacher we are not dis-cluding Aizawa as the skittle squad camp leader. Someone once said Deku's mom she always thought he was gay and was ready for him to come out to her like "whenever your ready you can come out to me Izuku ok? this is a safe place" and when he comes out he's like "Im bi" and shes like "HUH? OK not what i thought but im happy all the same you told me"
The thing Deku is questioning is "will we kiss again? i really like him but i don't think he really likes me that seemed like a spur of the moment thing, we were pretty heated and it was getting crazy. He wants to go back to that moment badly. Poor things decided to stop when one of them pushed their hips together a little too hard in the moment of it all, probably Deku and it was just going completely down hill in the best way but they really should stop.
"could see them working as friends with benefits for a while before catching feelings too!!"
LISTEN, if we agree Yo is the one who knows nothing we can work with friends with benefits for a while like Yo is all "hey i dont hate kissing you we could do it again sometimes if you want" Yo is the shy one, he's the simping one cause hes new to this, he doesn't wanna come off as inexperience but it shows a lot. However Deku is patient with him to a point tho, he can only go on with it for so long until he's probably kissing him for the 17th time in their makeout sessions, he's all frustrated and says "Can we just, please admit we like each other so we can stop beating around the bush please?" and it throws Yo so off his game.
And you know what? i'd even say Yo is the bottom in their relationship like Deku is a switch, he can play the role given but in this situation i can't really see it any other way
Your honor they are a disaster, I not only rest my case i put that fucker to bed, knock him the fuck out in his sleep.
OMG ANON THAT'S A WOLE ESSAY LET'S GET INTO IT
I see the appeal of yo taking him to school / or just passing by to say hi before the day starts!! they totally text all day and call every night, you know those couples who call on facetime just to see each other while they do other stuff? that's them. they call while izuku is studying, they don't even need to talk but just have the other's presence there is so comforting. also Yo coming through the window??? love the chaotic energy this would bring, izuku loves it
I LOVE THE IDEA OF YO GOING DOWN THE AM I GAY PANICKJDKJDFKJF he would overthink it so bad, he defntly googles am i gay quiz at least once a day until he gets to see izuku again. also him thinking deku avoiding him is homophobia is os fucking funny to mekjdvkjvckjfdk he does not know that boy is fruityyyyy, he would probably be scared as fuck having to talk to him again not knowing if he was cool with gay people (but i mean it's izuku could he ever really have hate in his heart for anybody...)
but i also like the idea of deku being chill about it, cause he knows his sexuality so i think he would accept his feelings much better in this scenario, the panic would come to how to tell this to Yo. (also not to go into the rabbit hole of Inko, but can we all just agree that lady is a fucking lesbian???? husband who left and never came back??? cmon lady we know u divorced him because you were in love with ur female best friend i just fucking know it, she would also be like incredibly supportive of izuku, she's the type of mom who gives rainbow socks for pride)
"Poor things decided to stop when one of them pushed their hips together a little too hard in the moment of it all, probably Deku and it was just going completely down hill in the best way but they really should stop." AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA LOSING MY DAMN MIND HERE
AND YEAHHHH i can see him trying to play cool and just agree to keep doing this but mostly because he doesn't know how to act, he didn't get the gay dating rulebook. AND I LOVE THE IDEA OF DEKU SAYING YOOOOO CAN W EPLS JUST BE NORMAL AND DATEKHDJKDFK
i can see them both as switches tbh!! i guess yo as a power bottom, cause he's full of opinions so i assume he doesn't shut the fuck up during itvcjkfdkjfd and izuku is more of a gentle reassuring (but firm) top which fits perfectly in their dynamic
edit: i forgot to add but i was listening to mitski while reading this, and i must say 'i love me after you' kinda fits them a lot ??
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Hiya. If you haven't yet seen the 2013 erotic thriller In Secret starring Elizabeth Olsen, Oscar Isaac and Jessica Lange I highly recommend it. I've watched it twice in the past month. Lol.
Oscar's character Laurent Leclaire is so sensual, so devious that I decided to write a short, filthy little fanfic starring you, the reader, and him.
Laurent is sexy evil personified, sigh.
The setting is 1860's Paris. The story takes place before Laurent meets Elizabeth Olsen's character Therese. You are a young (nothing illegal, you are 19) virgin artists model that gets seduced and absolutely ravished by the dominant, more worldly Laurent one evening in his studio when you are posing for him.
Warnings, female receiving oral sex, dominance, frank descriptions of painful virginity loss, rough sex, language, not for anyone under 18. Just pure, gratuitous, thirsty smut. Lol.
But it's set in the Victorian Era so that makes it classy? Lmao.
Touch and taste
Things started out fairly innocent enough. You met him at your older sister's dinner party one evening.
He is a friend of your sister's husband, they went to school together.
Your sister is much more outgoing than you and at 19 you are still unmarried, having never even held hands with a man before.
You live with your sister and brother in law in an old but tidy home in Paris. You are middle class and the home is well decorated and furnished. Your sister is expecting her first child and you are looking forward to helping care for the infant.
The two of you have a warm, loving relationship.
Even for the Victorian Era you are painfully shy, your sister had to beg you to come to her party.
There are several single men there and she's trying to find you a suitor, a potential husband.
He was an artist, and his name was Laurent Leclaire.
You sat across from the mysterious, brooding man and as you attempted to make small talk with the other guests you couldn't help but notice from the corner of your eye how he looked at you.
It was like Laurent was studying you, taking in your shy, delicate beauty. When your eyes finally meet he flashes you a devilish little smirk that sends a shiver down your spine.
Your face turns bright red and you immediately look down.
In the glow of the candlelight you can make out his absurdly beautiful chiseled features. His curly hair, dark eyes, and of course that smile. He made you feel things, unfamiliar feelings that terrified you somewhat. You feel a twinge, an ache, coming from somewhere inside of you. Somewhere where good, Christian women don't normally get those feelings
"Oh dear, what's wrong?" Your sister asks, noticing your flush.
"It's nothing". You reply quickly with a nervous giggle.
"Perhaps I've imbibed in too much wine, I'll be fine".
"Oh my it's getting worse!" The older lady sitting next to your sister exclaimed.
You happen to catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror hanging on the wall across from you. Indeed the flush has gotten worse, your pale cheeks are as red as cherries.
"Let's get you upstairs". Your sister insists, helping you get to your feet.
"No I'm fine". You reply, sounding slightly irritated.
"You look terribly unwell". Your sister continues. "Come with me".
You reluctantly follow your sister upstairs to your room. You have to pass the handsome stranger on the way by, and you could have sworn you felt his hand brush yours, and then down the soft velvet of your skirt.
Once upstairs your sister helps you undress. You crawl into your bed and she brings you a cup of warm tea.
"You have a fever". Your sister frets as she lays her hand on your forehead.
"Quit fussing over me I assure you that I'm fine". You reply, smiling a little as you begin work on the embroidery project that was waiting by your bed.
"How am I ever to find a suitor with you making me leave the party early?"
"There's noone suitable there". Your sister replies sharply.
"What about the dark haired gentleman across from us?" You inquire, a slight smile creeping across your face.
"His name is Laurent and he is nothing but trouble". Your sister snaps back. "Stay away from him, I mean it, he will ruin your reputation".
Your sister's harsh words surprise you a bit, but you now have a name, Laurent, and you are also intrigued by your sister's stern warning.
Ruin my reputation? What on earth does that mean? You wonder as you nod off to sleep.
The next morning you are awakened by the familiar smell of food cooking and the sound of men talking. Sleepily you leave your bedroom and step into the hallway.
It's him again. You catch a glimpse of Laurent talking to your brother in law in the foyer. You immediately duck back into your bedroom and hastily get dressed.
You dash down the stairs quickly, brushing past Laurent. You look at him and flash a shy smile, he smiles back warmly.
You enjoy a nice leisurely, breakfast with your sister, brother in law and Laurent. You catch him glancing at you again, your face turns a light shade of pink.
Afterwards Laurent catches you alone in the foyer. You formally introduce yourself, Laurent kisses your hand.
"Your features. They're so classically pretty, like a sculpture". Laurent tells you as a rather seductive smile appears on his handsome face.
"I'd like to, if you wouldn't mind, paint you".
You giggle nervously at his proposition as your face turns pink. Laurent gently touches your flushed cheek,
you look at him and say nervously, "I'll do it".
"Wear that beautiful velvet dress you had on last night, and the pearl earrings too". Laurent replied, looking into your eyes.
The next afternoon you nervously arrive at Laurent's small flat/art studio, which was only a short walk from your own home.
As soon as he opens the door he smiles brightly and takes your hand. He leads you to a small room, where you sit on a chair in front of an easel.
Laurent sits next to you, looks deeply into your eyes and says,
"Tell me more about you, y/n, I like to learn more about my subject before I paint them".
"There isn't much to say really". You reply quickly, your face turning bright red again. "I'm 19, from Paris, I love my sister and brother in law. Both our parents passed years ago."
"You get embarrassed around the opposite sex, don't you?" Laurent pressed, taking your hand in his and stroking it. "You're so innocent like a child, but at the same time I know you're curious".
The man has read you like a book, you gasp a little at his words and start to tremble noticeably. Laurent leans over and kisses you gently on the cheek.
"Can I kiss your beautiful lips?" He continues, his breathing changing a little due to his own arousal.
"I've never done this, kissing". You reply, the heat from the lower part of your body becoming almost unbearable. "You'd have to show me".
"Open your mouth a little bit". Laurent orders, stroking your cheek with his strong hand. "Follow what I do".
He passionately kisses you using his tongue, you're shocked but quickly mime what he is doing. One of his hands drifts to your lap and he starts to stroke the wetness that is hidden by your pantaloons.
"Undress for me, I want to see my beautiful subject, all of you". Laurent orders, not asks.
You are so caught up in the moment, in him, that you obey his commands.
Noone has ever seen you like this, male or female. Well, maybe your sister. Definitely no men. You are trembling a little as you stand before him.
Laurent uses a paintbrush to trace and tease your body, you can see his hard manhood through his trousers.
"Let's go into my bedroom, I want to touch and taste you". He orders.
You go into his bedroom and recline on his bed. Laurent undresses, revealing his lean, muscular body.
His hard cock looks massive, intimidating, you've only seen them in medical journals and you've had no idea that they were this large in person. Perhaps it's just his own personal endowment.
Laurent kneels between your trembling legs and gently spreads them.
"It looks like an orchid, a fragile, pink orchid, it's so beautiful". Laurent tells you as he teasingly massages your intricate folds that are peeking through a thick patch of hair with his fingers.
He leaves you for a moment and grabs a sketch pad, he uses charcoal and quickly sketches your womanhood. When Laurent is done he shows you, you gasp a little and say, "I've never seen this side of myself".
"Can I touch and taste your petals?" Laurent pushes, you can see the desire burning in his eyes.
"Taste? What do you mean?" You ask, innocently having no clue what he means.
"Let me show you". Laurent purrs, leading you back over to his bed. "Tell me where you want my tongue".
You relax on the bed again, you gently spread your legs and he kneels before you and spreads them further.
He touches his tongue on your sensitive bud, causing you to immediately tremble from pleasure.
Laurent begins to suck and lick your frilly inner lips, you moan with delight from the intense sensation that you are feeling spread throughout your body.
What he's doing to you feels so good yet so sinful, and dirty.
Laurent's tongue moves down further, and he hits a barrier, your hymen is still intact and fairly thick, he gives it a gentle little flick with his tongue.
He then buries his face into your hairy mound, taking in your sweet, musky scent, the tip of his nose brushing against your wetness.
Your scent makes him moan from delight, Laurent is showing you just how much he savors and appreciates the female anatomy.
He teasingly strokes your innocence with his finger, being extra careful not to penetrate it or break it.
It's almost like he's in awe and aroused at that little barrier.
"My cock needs you, I need to feel this". Laurent begs, you can see the precum oozing from his hard tip.
"It's for my husband". You reply quickly and nervously.
"Noone cares about that anymore, especially in this city". Laurent tells you with a quick laugh.
You are so worked up and attracted to him that you relent, he spreads your legs again and positions himself on top of you.
Laurent starts to enter you, you gasp and sputter in a mixture of agony and pleasure as he slowly penetrates you, both of you can feel the moment your hymen breaks, spilling a considerable amount of blood on his sheets.
"Does it hurt?" Laurent asks.
"Yes". You reply, tears rolling down your cheeks.
"Good". He replies, thrusting into you harder.
With your legs wrapped firmly around his waist Laurent fucks you, hard. The pain quickly turns to pleasure as you become more comfortable with his body.
When he cums he fills you with a fairly large load as he moans and sputters. Afterwards Laurent spreads your legs again, and sticks his tongue deep inside of you, tasting a mixture of your juices.
Your sister is correct. If Satan himself walked the earth his name would be Laurent Leclaire. The man is so virile, so charming and so handsome that even you, the shy, innocent virgin relented to his charms.
Afterwards with his help you get redressed. As he's lacing you into your corset Laurent gently kisses and nuzzles your neck, muttering about how beautiful you are.
You sit with him through the night and he does indeed paint your portrait, as promised.
"You touched my hand and dress when I was walking by at the dinner party, didn't?" You ask, your face turning pink again.
"Of course". He replied, chuckling a little. "I wanted to see if you were as soft and delicate as you looked. Your silken hand felt just like the beautiful fabric of your gown".
"Why the pink background?" You continue, smiling a little.
"The pink represents the blushing of your cheeks". Laurent explains, sounding like every bit the serious artist. "And the colors of your beautiful petals, you are truly a masterpiece of God's creation".
The end
#in secret#laurent leclaire#fanfic#fanfic smut#fanfiction#long post#reader insert#smutty#smut tag#oscar isaac fanfic#oscar isaac
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Have you and your wife also incorporated which cycle all your sylvari were born in, out of curiosity?
Offhand, I've been wondering if those awakening close to the cusp of the next cycle (say like awakening a few minutes before/after the next cycle) would have traits of both those cycles (like how night blooms are secretive and prefer to travel alone while dawn blooms are diplomatic and friendly, would they be a little of both if they awakened near or at midnight in this example?). Not looking for confirmation, just a thought I've had while thinking about my own sylvari mesmer. I like thinking about these things at random. Doesn't define them if you don't want it to, but adds a nice fun fact to them if you decide to!
~🌸
it's so funny that u ask this bc glyndwr is actually a cusp! dusk/night. (the actual reason is when i first made him years and years ago i chose dusk, but i didn't have his personality figured out yet, and later i decided night fit better lol). in lore i have it as he technically did awaken closer to dusk, but he doesn't get on so well with kahedins (actually with. a LOT of the firstborn, bc things are Very Tense between him + caithe due to his background and he iiiiiis. nnot. actually technically Welcome in the grove), vs over time he's ended up tight with malomedies, so he kind of considers himself more of a night bloom either way.
ANYWAY all that to say i love the idea of cusps, and i also love the idea of some sylvari being really invested in their cycle (as not only the vague astrology-like personality thing it is in the character creator, but also as a pretty prominent social thing, seeing as it seems to loosely determine where u live as a grovedweller, how you're mentored + who by, etc), vs some other sylvari thinking it's nonsense and not putting much stock in it at all.
actually as long as we're here why don't i just list everyone's cycle off glyn - dusk/night cusp (considers himself night). doesn't Actually care but loves throwing it around as an excuse for being antisocial lorelei - dawn, very invested in it, believes in the personality part a lot. feels inherently affectionate towards other ppl in their cycle callas - i don't remember but she doesn't care and considers it all stupid grove shit and would probably give other courtiers a really hard time about it if she ever heard them talking abt it seriously fidelma - i also don't remember. this is kind of making me realize that for characters who are definitely established as enthusiastic courtiers i don't think abt it much sorcha - noon. she probably does not even remember this herself bowyn - dusk. gives no thought to cycles at all, but instead cheerfully stereotypes + teases ppl based on their profession (probably an offshoot of being secretly defensive abt how they're perceived as a mesmer) naoise - dawn, often asks other sylvari their cycle as part of getting-to-know-you small talk but doesn't think abt it beyond that clooney - big ol noon bloom. thinks it's funny how stereotypical he is and how frequently people guess it right maelduin - dusk. thinks absolutely nothing of it
for my wife's i can't answer in detail bc i don't think i've ever actually talked to him abt how his sylvari feel abt cycle stuff, but off the top of my head i think alan and cadair are dawn, gann and lisk are noon, and rhys and merrit are night. sigvas is either dusk or night but i'm not sure!
edit: update on this i asked my wife about sigvas' cycle and they said "oh! shit! hm! ... i don't remember." so there's that
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Uhhh shit 👀💦 either Android Lucio or Mccree
WE’RE DOING BOTH BECAUSE YOU GAVE ME MY TWO FAVORITE CHARACTERS!
(Literally have an Oc that I self ship with her okay? I may have a small problem..) anyways!
ON WITH THE HEADCANONS!
Also sorry this is so late-
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Lucio Correia Dos Santos
He is an example of the Healerdroids! A set of Androids for S/o’s who may be really clumsy (I.E me lol) or who may have conditions that require constant help or care from someone.
To awaken your Luciodroid, you can do several things! But there are only two that are recommended for the safety of the owner.
1) Play one of his mixtapes, he comes packages with his entire DJ set so he should have some of his mixtapes with him. If you do this he will begin singing along and will walk out with a smile saying “Hey! You have great taste~”
2) Ask him if he’d like to dance. Lucio loves dancing so if you played some music, (brownie points if it’s his) and ask him politely to dance with you. He will bust out the crate with happiness and start dancing along with you. “You’ve got some Killer moves!”
Lucio is great for children! He loves kids and will go out and play soccer or many other games with the children. It’s just something about them that causes them to clique and fit together like puzzle pieces.
He loves animals! Especially frogs!
If you took him to a pet shop he’d beg you to get him a frog so he can take care of it (He’d name it Luci.) It reminds him of himself!
Another thing Lucio is great at is cooking, he will wake you up with a scent so good you’ll practically be floating out the bed to come downstairs. You like pancakes? He’ll whip you up the fluffiest pancakes in the world. Bacon? Crisp and Perfect!
Lucio is also perfect boyfriend material, so if you’re looking for an Android for romantic reasons he is wonderful, he’ll love and care for you until death do you part.
“Um..I made a tune for you, well it turned into an album. Don’t worry babe! I kept it nice and easy for you~ I have that playlist for private reasons~”
Jesse McCree
You want a cowboy? But have bad anxiety and hate socializing with people? Well I have someone especially for you~!
Meet Jesse McCree! Your rootin’, tootin’ cowboy Android! Ordering and specially made for you. Programmed for you, he has all your likes and dislikes, preferences in his systems!
There is only one way for you to wake up the wonderful Jesse McCree,(and I think you know what im talking about-)
1) Stand a ways away from the box as it sits in your room. Make sure you’re in another room but can still hear you. Bust out with the phrase :
“It’s High Noon McCree!”
McCree would bust open the door, glowing brightly as he steps out repeating said phrase before realizing where he is. He chuckles and walks around until he finds you. “Jesus! Don’ scare me like that girl, I thought you were the enemy!”
McCree is a huge cuddle bug, he will sit on the couch all day with you and just talk to you all day about how your day was. And what would you like to do for the rest of the day.
He can also cook, if you like southern styled cooking then you’ll love what he cooks. Pan fried steak? Country fried chicken? Mashed potatoes? Talk about a whole meal down here.
“Come on Darlin’, Let’s go out today, Just to the park and have a picnic! Just you and me~ Okay and maybe little sparky!”
#lucio correia dos santos#lucio headcanons#lucio x reader#overwatch lucio#Jesse McCree#overwatch mccree#mccree x reader#McCree headcanons#overwatch headcanons#yane writes
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Hiraeth Chapter 54: Domestic
Masterlist can be found Here!
Chapter Fifty-Four: Domestic
Note: The reception the last chapter received warmed my heart. I seriously loved reading your comments! They were so wholesome! V needed a friend, damn it! I was worried that taking a chapter for something that slow would kill the pacing, but you all seemed to enjoy it. So thank you! Coming up next, like two solid chapters of unpleasant revelations and plan making. Boy oh boy, is this a blast to read. I can’t wait to see the horror on your faces in the next chapter. Well, not literally, but you get the idea lol XD
(-~-)
Sun pierced the thin shear shroud that hung over the window like a bridal veil, blanketing the room in semi-darkness. What little light shone through was just enough to disturb the occupant of the room who turned to the side in an attempt to avoid the blinding light that he suddenly found in his eyes. Even with them closed, his eyes still didn’t find pleasure in the presence of the outside light. It seemed that being part devil was enough to make one a bit photosensitive. But considering that devils were creatures of darkness, that made perfect sense.
He couldn’t remember the last time that he had slept so well, turning his head to the left to discover that the love of his life was indeed still in the bed with him. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, head buried in his chest and shoulders. It was honestly difficult to see anything more than the top of her head from under the covers, her satire compared to his placing her much lower in the bed than himself. It would never stop being funny to him that she was so put together when she was awake but was so entirely capable of decimating a bed cover when she was asleep. Quite the juxtaposition if you asked him.
It was early in the morning still, so that made sense. She had no reason to be up yet, and she more than deserved her rest. The children wouldn’t awaken until the smell of breakfast made its way up to their room. And if he remembered correctly, it was Saturday. Crepe day. Perhaps he could just lay here and pretend to be asleep until it was time to devour them?
But it was not to be so. A moment later she turned over, releasing her and popping her head out from under the bed covers like a turtle’s head exiting its shell. He resisted the urge to giggle like a schoolchild at the sight, instead turning over onto his back as he raised his right arm over his face in a bid to block the morning light. They genuinely needed some blackout curtains. The sun was just awful this time of year.
“Goodmorning, Nero. Are the boys awake yet?” She yawned deeply as she stretched her arms over her head, her face down in the pile of about eight pillows that she had insisted upon buying and knitting little pillow covers for. He could barely understand her due to how muffled her voice was, but he’d caught the gist of it easily enough. It seemed that despite the fact that she was speaking, she wasn’t quite awake yet. He’d yet to see a single eyelid open.
Mornin’, Kyrie. Hope you slept half as good as I did.” Nero slid up into a sitting position, stretching his arms over his head, stretching. He’d arrived late last night, just before the boys had been sent off to bed. And just in time to let them taste the leftover pasta he’d brought from his older brother’s house for them to try. “No, they’re still asleep. Haven’t heard anything yet. Probably because it’s still so early.”
“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.” She turned in the general direction of the window, her eyes still mostly shut. She seemed to be making an effort to squint, though. “What time is it?”
Nero looked over at the clock on the bedside table. He still didn’t understand why it was on his side of the bed. Kyrie was the only thing he wanted to wake up to. (Oh my god I’m soo cheesy please help.) “It’s a little past 6 am.”
Bolting upright, Kyrie’s eyes were suddenly very open indeed, the young woman clearly startled by her partner’s answer. That had not been the answer that she had been hoping to receive. “Oh no oh no oh no… I’m so sorry! I’ll go make breakfast right away!”
In her haste to get out of the bed, she became tangled in the blankets, tumbling forward. Nero quickly migrated towards the edge of the bed, confused and probably unreasonably worried considering the fact that they were on a floor covered in a plush rug. “Kyrie are you ok-”
“Whoops. Silly me. I guess I’ll have to make up the bed before I get started.” She giggled uncomfortably, squelching her head down between her shoulders as she smiled in obvious embarrassment, he cheeks turning a bright pink that only served to highlight her pretty freckles. “I’m alright. Not to worry.”
The youngest descendant of the dark Knight Sparda let out a sigh of relief, sliding over the side of the bed to help her up. There had been little potential for actual harm to come to her, but he was still glad that she hadn’t hit her head on the wardrobe or something. The last thing he wanted was to see Kyrie come to any sort of harm.
“Forget about the bed. I can take care of that. Are you sure you’re okay?” He stood up and grasped both of her hands in his own, pulling her carefully to her feet. Kyrie had a habit of being slightly clumsy when she was in a hurry, something that this little scare had definitely made obvious. He was just glad that she seemed to be just fine. It was far from the worst thing he’d ever seen happen to her, much to his distaste and her misfortune. What had gotten her so flustered in the first place? “What’s going on?”
She giggled in embarrassment again, closing her eyes for a moment as she scratched the back of her head. A stray strand of bed hair snagged on her nail, coaxing a small yelp from her as she rubbed the spot in question. She then let out another small yawn, her eyes watering slightly as she rubbed the last of the sleep from them. “Nothing. I’m fine. I just don’t want to make you late, so I meant to get up about an hour ago to make breakfast. I know you said you have something important to do with your father today, and I don’t want to hold you up, but I don’t want to send you out the door hungry, either.”
Nero blinked in confusion. And then he paled. Oh no, he had totally forgotten about that! He wasn’t late just yet, but he absolutely saw her point. There were supposed to be making a plan to deal with Belial today, sometime within the next two hours! He hadn’t given it a single thought since he’d woken up. His only thoughts had been on the delicious breakfast that he was so looking forward to.
Hurrying down the stairs, kyrie ran off to prep whatever she was going to need to make breakfast before Nero left. They had just under an hour and a half before he needed to be back at V’s house, so she was going to need to hurry if he was to leave on time. And unfortunately, crepes were not one of those things that could be hurried, much like many of the dishes from the food’s country of origin. But to be fair, that was what made them so enjoyable to eat.
Quickly throwing the blankets back onto the bed and layering them into something vaguely akin to a satisfactory condition, Nero headed after her. He couldn’t really cook. Okay, he couldn’t cook at all. He’d once burned the water they had been planning to use to cook some pasta with, and Kyrie had tried her level best and somewhat failed not to burst into hysterical laughter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help her in some way.
As Nero made his way down the last stair and crossed the threshold into the living room, he caught sight of the clock. 6: 37 am. It was barely light out despite the bright light that had made its way in through the windows. That was the curse of their window position in relation to the shoreline. The water made sure that it was always too bright in their room. Nero realized he was probably the only person to not want a waterside view.
But as he turned to join her in the kitchen, something stopped him. Something had just occurred to him for the first time. The earliest ferry didn’t leave for at least another hour and a half. Even if he left right now there was no way that he could get back to V’s house before Noon; 10 am at the earliest if traffic allowed it. “Kyrie wait. Slow down. I’ll just call them. I can’t get there that early anyway unless he comes and gets me.”
Kyrie paused, clearly confused. And then a look of understanding crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right… the ferry.” She laughed to herself in embarrassment, dying inside as she realized that she’d sent them both into a panic over nothing. “I’m sorry, Nero I-”
She was quickly silenced by a surprise kiss from Nero, her body melting into his arms as he scooped her up into his arms, hugging her tightly. He didn’t need to say that it was alright. He knew that she understood. She always did. “Don’t worry about it, Kyrie. You meant well. Let’s just enjoy that breakfast before the kids wake up and Nico eats all the fruit that’s supposed to go in the food. Just you and me. Wadda ya say?”
Again, Kyrie giggled. Although this time, not from embarrassment. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Nero. I would love that.”
Nero snuggled her tightly for a moment before releasing her, realizing that neither of them could do anything if they were not able to move. “And hey, and maybe I can help this time. It can’t go any worse than the last time, right?”
The young songstress paled. “T-that’s very true Nero. I’m sure you’re right about that.”
(-~-)
Dante and Vergil had arrived just a short while ago, the eldest of the two insisting upon heading over nearly an hour earlier than they needed to in a bid to make sure that they were not late. It seemed that the fact that the only one setting this deadline for them was the eldest Son of Sparda himself had been completely lost on him. Sometimes Dante wondered if Vergil actually thought about those sorts of things before committing himself to them. But regardless, V and Morgan were both already at the house, and Brenowin was with them, so it didn’t seem that it was going to matter much in the grand scheme of things. Only one person was coming from any distance away, and he knew that his youngest son understood the importance of being there.
It was around this time that Vergil realized that he was forgetting something. This clearly threw him for a loop and drove him slightly mad. Not having everything accounted for in his own plan was one of the things in this world that made Vergil question why he even got up in the morning. After all, if he couldn’t trust himself to get that sort of thing ringtone, then he was supremely doomed, wasn’t he? Or perhaps overthinking every minor detail was how he missed the bigger picture? At this point, he was in two minds over the subject, and that alone threatened to take his last shred of sanity.
After about a half-hour of staring at the clock, Vergil had, unbeknownst to himself, become obviously uncomfortable. Nero should have been there by now, should he not? And the wat that his eldest son was staring at him with a semi amused look on his face from the other side of the living room was not helping in the slightest. Had he missed something? Or more obviously, was there something on his shirt that he had missed? It was hard to tell what V was thinking without asking him directly.
“You’re staring at me,” Vergil stated plainly, fully aware of the fact that he was stating the obvious. He knew that V knew he knew that V was staring at him, so there was really no compelling reason to bring it up other than to point it out in the hope that he might stop doing so. He couldn’t really pinpoint why this bothered him as much as it did, but he couldn’t deny that he found it uncomfortable.
“Oh, I know.” V petted Shadow absentmindedly, the large panther occupying the space in front of him and silently commanding his attention. She seemed to be slightly on alert as a result of the strangers who were in the house. Flora she recognized, but Morgan and Bren were still a bit unfamiliar to her.
“Is that a particular reason for you doing so that I should be aware of?” Now Vergil was equal parts annoyed, anxious, and confused. Was he being unknowingly conspicuous again? That seemed to be something that he was good at.
“Perhaps. I’m wondering how long your error will take to occur to you” V said softly, scratching the backs of his familiar’s ears. If her rumbling purs were anything to go by, he was doing a more than satisfactory job. “It is an easy enough mistake to make. I imagine that you are still having quite a time with, well, the time. It takes time to acclimate yourself to something so different from what you have become accustomed to. I’m sure it simply didn’t occur to you.”
Vergil’s brow furrowed. “What didn’t occur to me?”
“Without contraries, there is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.” V said simply, more than slightly pleased with himself for finally having an opportunity to indulge in one of his favorite quotes. Well, at least to the capacity that someone might be able to understand and use for self-reflection. He’d been given ample opportunity to use it. “Requesting that someone remember to attend a meeting that they cannot get to and then forgetting yourself that the time you picked is the reason they cannot attend.”
Sirrus smirked from the armchair next to V, nearly spilling his tea as he held it up to his mouth. He understood that one. He didn’t comprehend all of the reasons for its significance at the moment, but the concept was not lost on him. Vergil looked over at him for a moment before returning his attention to his young son. He had forgotten something? “I do not follow.”
Tilting his head slightly to the side, V shifted his sitting position to accommodate his back resting upon the back of the couch, relinquishing his hold on shadow, much to the panther’s dismay. He never wanted to get off of this couch again. It was supremely comfortable. “Nero called a short while ago. It seems that you may have failed to take on of the obstacles in his path to arrival into account.”
Vergil sat there in silence for a moment before something subtle changed in his facial expression. He then stood up and withdrew Yamato as he headed towards a more open area of the house. Sirrus shook his head, reaching over to offer to refill Flora’s cup. She peeped up from her book but then shook her head politely to decline. Sirrus then turned his attention to V, silently nodding in the direction of the other empty cup on the tray. Vergil had allowed his own cup to cool off, but there was still tea left, and considering the fact that Dante was barely awake at the moment, he didn’t suppose that offering a cup of hot tea to him on a brand new and expensive couch would go over well. Besides, he and Lucia were reading as well. Best not to disturb them. “If I may?”
Looking over at him with half-lidded eyes that betrayed the late night that they’d spent conversating, V nodded. Perhaps that would help him stay awake.
Sirrus filled the cup and set the pot down, returning to his own drink. He took a sip before continuing. “Why not tell him when Nero called?”
He now understood what Sirrus meant. He sat up to take the cup and fix it to his liking. “I wanted to see if he would come to realize his oversight. It is not always the fault of others that simple mistakes are made. That, and Nero seemed excited about breakfast.”
“Fair enough,” Sirrus said, finishing off the cup and setting it down. He had held off to allow his younger brother more time to eat? That had been kind of him, considering the circumstances at hand. He had much to lose should they not make haste in resolving this situation. Perhaps the most to lose out of all of them on a personal spectrum aside from Morgan. And even then, from what he had come to understand. After all, his newfound knowledge was why he was here today. This wouldn’t be good.
A moment later, another voice could be heard from the kitchen. It was Nero. It seemed that the Darkslayer had stepped away to remedy the situation that he had accidentally caused, and that he had now returned with his youngest son in tow. Excellent. Now they could proceed with the reason that they had all been asked here.
“Kyrie asked me to bring you these,” Nero said as he handed V a Tupperware container filled with crepes. The whole thing had been wrapped in foil in an attempt to keep them warm and preserve their texture and flavor. V sat down his drink and headed towards the kitchen to tend to them, unwilling to wait and see what they were. From the smell alone, he had some idea what was in the container, and that excited him. And only kyrie would wrap up something that was going through a portal. She was too kind.
“She also asked me to ask you how you made that pasta. She and the kids loved it.” Nero said, gesturing towards Sirrus as he sat down next to the spot where V had just been. He would return shortly. He had some concept of the importance of what was going on. After all, it centered around him for the most part. V was a lot of things, and Nero didn’t consider “inconsiderate” to be among them.
An amused look passed over the man with the red hair’s face as he shook his head. He was wondering if that dinner had actually been good, or if everyone had eaten it just to be polite. It was good to know that there were at least a few people who liked his cooking. He wasn’t sure he’d met this Kyrie or the children in question before, but that didn’t much matter to him. He was sure he would eventually under better circumstances. And it seemed that she knew Nero, so she couldn’t be all that bad. Perhaps his significant other? Were the children his? So many fascinating questions to be answered. Such a scandal! Oh, how the little things excited him.
“It would be my pleasure. I’ll jot it down on something for you as soon as I get the chance. Or perhaps I can deliver the information to her in person?” He shrugged, waiting for V to sit down with his newfound meal. He hadn’t even made it back to the living room before he had begun to devour what seemed to be a plate of raspberry-covered crepes. He couldn’t blame him if that was the case. Cold crepes were disgusting, at least in his experience. ”But I must deliver some news to you first. I was called away late last night to attend to something troubling that is pertinent to your predicament, and I feel that you need to hear about it. It may be helpful to build our plan around.”
Vergil returned as Sirrus finished talking. “You have my attention.”
Sirrus nodded. “Good. And I shall need the attention of the rest of our house guests as well. After all, you mentioned that they are involved at dinner last night, and something tells me that from what I overheard you explain from outside of Lucia’s house that day about the attack that you both barely survived a few years back that this will not be pleasant news. And for that, I am so sorry. Settle in. This will be a long and unpleasant story. And I think that much of it shall genuinely surprise you.”
(-~-)
I wonder if any of you have made the connection between a few of the events that have occurred in the story. If not, then some of them shall be revealed in the next chapter. And I’m certain that one of them that’s coming up will genuinely surprise you all. It’s got so many messed-up layers to it that it’s probably the most DMC thing I’ve ever written on that merit alone hahaha! See you all next week for the truth and answers that I know you seek. I think devoting like two whole chapters to it was the best way to go. The flow will be much better that way. See you all in the comment section, and talk to you soon! Have a good, safe weekend!
#V#My OC#My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU#Nero#Dante#Vergil#Lucia#My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU OC's#My Post Devil May Cry V AU Fanfiction#DMC#DMC5#DMCV#Devil May Cry 5#Devil May Cry V#Devil May Cry#Vitale
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Soma Voice Lines
Borrowed from @muffinrecord
Here’s my take so I can practice writing his voice. In retrospect, they come off as rather sad since he doesn’t know ugly truth ;o;
Intro Self Introduction 1: Ah, Hello! My name's Soma, and I’m from Tomoyoko City. I don't remember my last name, but I'm sure it'll come back sooner or later, haha. Hopefully I can remember everything else about myself too... actually, can I ask you something? Have you ever heard of a magical girl called the Sibyl? Self Introduction 2: I'm just a magical boy from Tomoyoko, probably the only one at the moment. But just because I'm a boy, doesn't mean I can't fight like everyone else!
Personal Story Story Chapter End 1 It’s hard dealing with other magical girls. I feel like I shouldn’t even be here talking to them. Story Chapter End 2 Looks like it’s back to square one. *Sigh* How frustrating... Story Chapter End 3 I’m not gonna rest until I find out the truth about the Sibyl. I just can’t go on like this.
Story Select 1 I can fight too! Just give me a chance! Story Select 2 The Sibyl of Tomoyoko... Just who is she...? Story Select 3 H-hey, hold on a second Misha! I'm not sure if I'm ready for this lesson yet! Story Select 4 Stop poking me Kiki, I'm not that cute! Hey, that tickles! *Laughs* Cut it out! Story Select 5 Why was I chosen? What makes me so special? Story Select 6 If I can just remember something, anything...
Stats Strengthening Complete: Huh. I think I’m getting better at this. Let’s see what I can do now. Strengthening Max: Wow, I never thought I get this far. Maybe I can actually do this!
Episode Level Up: I’m finally getting somewhere with this investigation. Magia Level Up: I feel a little... lighter. Like I can do anything. I think Misha’s training is finally paying off.
Magical Release 1: It’s difficult to learn about magic and control it, but everyday pushes me to work harder to recover my memories and find her. Magical Release 2: Witches are born from curses, yet I can create them from my magic. Well, distorted ones anyway. But I just don’t understand. Why would I have this power? Is it because of her...? Magical Release 3: I think my reason for wanting to find the Sibyl goes beyond recovering my memories. We both must’ve had a reason for taking up this role. I want to know what she sees in me personally. If I know that, then I think I can keep fighting.
Awaken 1: I know some parts of Tomoyoko like the back of my hand, but everything else is a complete blank. There’s gotta be a reason for that. Awaken 2: Is it because I don’t want to remember? Is that it? Or am I protecting myself from someone, or something? Perhaps there’s a lot more going on around here than I initially thought... Awaken 3: I’d like the chance to become normal again, but I’ve gained so much from this experience. It wouldn’t be right for me to give it all up and go back. Do I really want to be a magical boy? Or should I be a normal person?
Home Screen Login (First login): Hey, how's it going? Ready to start investigating? We're slowly making progress, but I'm sure we'll find a lead on the Sibyl this time. Login (Morning): Yawwwwn... Mornin'. Looks like you slept well. Me, I just feel super groggy. Give me a quick drink and I'll start perking up here again soon. Login (Noon): Huh? Noon already? I thought we had more time... Oh well. Where should we have lunch at? It's your call. We'll join up with Misha and the others there once you've decided. Let’s discuss our findings there too. Login (Evening): Everything always seems to get quiet around this time. Not that I mind, I like that kind of atmosphere. Quiet enough to relax and think... maybe I'll just close my eyes for a minute... Zzz... Login (Night): Hmmm, nothing huh? Well there’s always tomorrow. Maybe we’ll find the Sibyl then after we get some rest. Login (Other): Sometimes I wonder if it's fate that I became a magical boy. What was my life like before? Would things turn out differently if the Sibyl wished for something else? I can't help but think about that sometimes. Login (AP full): You ready? We need to stick together and cover each other’s backs. A Witch or Familiar could try to sneak up on one of us. Misha taught me that one. Login (BP full): It feels wrong for me to hit girls, but Misha says I have to prepare to fight and defend myself from anything, especially other magical girls. I still feel bad for hitting them, even if they’re just a bunch of copies. Sorry.
Tap 1: The Sibyl of Tomoyoko is said to be an incredibly powerful and wise magical girl. She sounds amazing, but I think what makes her interesting to me is how she became the Sibyl. That’s what I really want to know. Tap 2: It’s hard working with girls when you’re the only guy in the group. Misha’s nice, and while Kiki can get annoying sometimes, Chiaki’s just outright rude and doesn’t trust me. I wish she’d stop being so cold towards everyone. Tap 3: Kyubey says that I’m some kind of strange anomaly because he doesn’t make contracts with boys. I don’t like how he describes me like that... it almost sounds like something’s wrong with me. Tap 4: I don’t remember much about myself, but I can tell you about Tomoyoko at least. If you wanna swim or relax in the sun, you head south. If you want to immerse yourself in history and community, then you go north. As for central... it’s the place that bridges it together. Tap 5: They say a wish is a miracle, something that can help others and bring hope. But Kyubey can’t grant mine, and I have no idea what I’d ask for. The Sibyl thought of making me join her, but I still wonder if it’s something I really wanted. Tap 6: Some people don’t think too highly of Mr. Shinoda, my home room teacher. Rumors say he’s gotten in trouble with the law and is a real creep, but I don’t get that vibe from him. He seems like a pretty sensitive and kind-hearted guy to me. But I’m not sure why I think that though. Tap 7: I wish I could pick a different outfit. Having all of these belts on me makes me feel like I’m being restrained. Is there a way to change it into something else? Maybe I should ask Misha about it. All after, she’s the one with the most experience in magic. Tap 8: I think that, even if I wasn't a magical boy, I'd still want to help out magical girls in any way I can. I don't like seeing others suffer, and I don't like being unable to do anything. Tap 9: Can I ask you something? Kiki and some girls at school say I have a cute face, but when I look at myself in a mirror, I don’t really see it. Do you think I’m cute? ...Gah, what a weird thing to say. Never mind, forget I asked! *Blush*
Battle Start: Come on, let’s go! Battle Victory 1: I did it! I can fight! Battle Victory 2: I’m ok! A little scared, but I can keep going. Battle Victory 3: I won’t let anything hold me back. I’ll get up and continue walking forward.
Doppel: Stop... please, stop... I don’t wanna die... Dying: Help me... it hurts...
I think it could use a little more work, but it’s good enough atm. I’d make a Personal Memoria, but I don’t think I have a solid idea of it yet. I’d need to write his story to properly sort that out lol
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chapter ten
masterlist link in blog description.
As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.
Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N
disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.
Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)
Chapter warning(s): topic of unbalanced-relationship dynamic is brought up, but it’s not,,,,.,. ,real? ik that doesn’t make a lot of sense lol im sorry; yoongi is a sweetie but this time getting flustered
Word count: 5439
if you enjoy please, please let me know!
You awaken from the sound of loud greetings in the distance. As your eyes crack open from the muted light that slips between the sheer curtains, you squeeze tighter onto the pillow that ended up in your arms sometime throughout the evening. The voice continues to blare from the otherside of the apartment, but now it’s laughing contently, doing nothing to help your head stir more conscious. You simply lie there under the cocoon of blankets, thinking nothing other than the fact that you were thirsty.
When you finally sit upright, the pillow remains in your grasp. A tiny grumble escapes your lips at the discomfort of trying to wiggle your legs free of the blankets when they were dressed in jeans you had been wearing the previous day. It’s then that you catch a glance at the clock on the nightstand, and you’re able to fully wake up as you note it reading a time close to noon.
You groan at yourself for not remembering to set an alarm, and then you recall leaving your phone in the other room anyways. Another disgruntled curse dribbles out for the forgetfulness, hoping that Yoongi didn’t have other things planned today that you’ve now made him late for. You’re out the bedroom door in seconds, peeking down the hall as though there is a need to be hidden. The voice from before registers in your eardrums sounding familiar and bright, and you finally take into account that there is indeed a guest of Yoongi’s here that you’re about to have to interrupt.
But your eyes find Yoongi’s person way down the hall as he exits from the kitchen area. His head turns towards you, seemingly startled for a moment when he realizes you’re there and your hand barely waves in return as a greeting.
“You don’t have to hide back there, you know? It’s just Hoseok.” He says gesturing you over with his hand as he then takes a sip of water from a glass.
“I’m not a ‘just’, how dare you.” Hoseok speaks with an appalled tone as you stalk into the room meekly, finding him sitting on the corner of the couch you’d been in the night before. “Ah, hello again.”
“Hi,” You nod your head, feeling embarrassed that you’re still so dazed from sleeping for such a long time, and then you also take into account your appearance likely looking quite unflattering. You bite your lip. “Sorry, I’m interrupting.”
“You’re not at all, he just showed up without saying anything.” Yoongi cuts in as he turns to go back into the kitchen. “Typed in the code on his own and everything. I thought we were going to get killed.”
“He’s dramatic.” Hoseok smiles towards you after rolling his eyes at Yoongi’s sarcastic statements. You nod softly, a tiny polite smile matching it. Your throat feels so dehydrated. “Didn’t realize his girlfriend would be here too, or I would’ve called.” He turns his attention to his phone all the sudden, likely receiving a text. As the title comes into your mind, your head starts to arrange replies suitable for a girlfriend, or to further the charade along in general. Though the implications of being at Yoongi’s apartment in the morning-- in his clothing nonetheless make you stay quiet. Your voice would surely sound awkward.
“He’s just teasing you.” Yoongi says as he walks towards you from the kitchen, another glass of water in hand. “He knows you’re not my actual girlfriend.”
Your shoulders relax at Yoongi’s words, having unknowingly been made a little on edge to have to continue the act so quickly after waking up. Receiving the glass, you greedily lap it up, relief flooding your throat as you try and recall when the day before you had the last drink of water. “Good. I couldn’t think of anything to say.”
Yoongi smiles at your relieved candor and also the way that you practically inhaled the drink, then his head turns back to Hoseok who speaks up. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that; thought he told you that I knew.” You shake your head about to tell him that it’s not a big deal, until Hoseok beats you to a response. “I just came over to see what happened between him and my ex.”
“Drama seeker.” Yoongi teases, though he rubs the back of his head, smile looking contrastingly annoyed at his memory of the night before. The change in disposition makes your lips cast down in the smallest frowns, knowing that you should’ve pressed him more about it because of how much it seemed to bother Yoongi to run into Seulgi. If it weren’t for the onset of exhaustion that set in after all of the frustrated tears, you would have. “She wants me to do more for you. Help you with your comeback.”
You eyebrows furrow slightly. Considering how standoffish Seulgi was towards Yoongi, and how obviously she ignored Hoseok entirely, you find it odd that her demands of Yoongi are seemingly well-intended. Though as Hoseok groans on the couch, hand rubbing his face, you think there’s more depth in those sentences that their face value.
Yoongi’s hand toys with his hair still, averting eyes back to you as he suddenly appears to recall, “Oh, you don’t have plans today, do you? I can drive you back to your place, if you need to be somewhere.”
“Actually,” You start, somewhat hesitant despite Yoongi’s presence lacking anything distant or intimidating. Still, it could be rude to involve yourself with his affairs, but you want to help him if you’re able. “If it’s okay, I wanted to know what happened too.” You say with a small voice, before continuing a little louder, quicker, “But because I was worried about it-- Not just because I wanted to hear gossip, or something.”
“Okay,” Yoongi’s bits of chuckling make your chest rumble free of nervousness. Instead somehow giving you a secure feeling that expands as he nods. “That’s right, you were worried yesterday when it happened.” You nod sincerely, biting your lip as Yoongi’s lip curl to smile softly. “Seulgi doesn’t really like me much.” He says frankly while a nod of his gestures for you to sit in the armchair beside the couch.
“To put it lightly,” Hoseok grumbles with a bitter voice as Yoongi sits centrally on the couch with him, “But why she doesn’t like you is just to save her own face.” He says towards Yoongi then turns his head to you as he explains his point, “She blames Yoongi for why I got kicked out of my company, even though it was my fault-- but between Yoongi and her it’s definitely her fault though. Yoongi didn’t have anything to do with it.”
You notice Yoongi’s face avoid looking towards Hoseok as he speaks, instead constricting in little bits of confliction you believe. Evidently not completely agreeing with what Hoseok tells you, and the thought of it confuses you more, because you can’t rationalize Yoongi taking part in Hoseok’s removal. It’s clear the friendship between them is strong, no animosity whatsoever-- even when there could have sprouted envy from the scandal of the year prior. Hoseok isn’t suspicious of Yoongi in the slightest, or irritated that he’s still successful while Hoseok himself struggles to start over. So it’s a wonder of why Yoongi appears unsatisfied with how Hoseok relates him to the issue.
“Why would she blame Yoongi?” You don’t think anything wrong of your question until Yoongi also looks towards you, both his eyes and Hoseok reflecting shock that confuses you. Then the tone of your words play over in your head and you realize you spoke like you were offended, baffled. Defensive of Yoongi.
“Because,” Hoseok begins, voice still taken back slightly, though the hollow smile of his lips let you think he’s humored by you more than anything. “She doesn’t think he did enough to help me out of what happened when I got kicked out. Did you keep up with it at all? I probably sound like I’m over-selling it, but a lot of articles went out about it.” He continues right along, casually like the situation doesn’t affect him any longer. Perhaps the period of stress already passed while Hoseok only focuses now on overcoming it.
You nod gently, wracking around your brain to recall the majority of the facts that were presented, “You both got caught on a date and your relationship got outted.” You don’t beat around, though your tone is simply factual. “I didn’t pay much attention to be honest though. I was kind of busy back then with my job.” You add on as you recall many nights during that time spent crammed into your home studio working on two different albums at a time, and only getting away from the job when Jimin came over periodically to make sure you took breaks.
“That was practically all that happened.” You startle from your thoughts when Yoongi gripes his opinion aloud, glaring towards the coffee table while Hoseok beside him shrugs, relaxing back into the cushion, like he knows Yoongi isn’t finished. “They were just dating privately, the public found out, and that’s the only truth of it all that happened. Everything else in the media was complete crap.”
“Admittedly,” Hoseok cuts in while Yoongi groans, fiddling with his unkempt hair. “That is basically all that happened between Seulgi and I.” You nod at Hoseok’s intention to soothe over the situation, while your eyes remain trailed rather apologetically towards Yoongi who appears far more irritated by the subject than Hoseok. “But she lied to them to save her and her group’s image.” You watch Yoongi sigh at the end of Hoseok’s softly spoken sentence, frowning more at stirring these memories. You interrupt gently,
“You both don’t have to tell me-- it obviously bothers you-”
Hoseok shakes his head, “I don’t mind. Besides when you pity me by the end of this all, it’ll feel worth it to explain.” His smile is incredibly teasing, tone joking, trying to alleviate any of the heavy atmosphere because truly Hoseok doesn’t feel the remnants of the past as painfully as he used to. You try to match his expression with a tiny smile of your own, but Yoongi doesn’t believe the sight as he bites his lip. Feeling a little bad for bothering you with the messy memories. “She basically told the media that-- because I’ve had my career longer than she did, that I manipulated her into the relationship.”
Hoseok nearly chuckles as you raise your eyebrows in shock at the words. Imagining how scrutinized the entirety of his career could’ve become with a malleable statement like that, you find it shocking to say the least. Even though you can’t say for sure, you assume the two of them had a nice relationship, and for Seulgi to cast all blame onto Hoseok in such a harmful manner, you’re stunned into silence, only reacting by your expression.
“She and I both knew each other since we were trainees.” Hoseok says, stopping as you scoff. Completely thrown off by how Seulgi was able to completely toss Hoseok aside, and say something so damaging-- when it’s clearly wrong if they’ve known each other from before fame. You’re continuously baffled, glancing towards Yoongi who looks at you just nodding his head to assert that what Hoseok said is true. “But anyways, I guess now that I’m trying to have a comeback, she wants to ease her guilt by getting our dear Yoongi here involved in her place.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, sighing because the thought alone tires him. He’s so fed up with all of the things she’s done to Hoseok that now extend as far as himself like he’s collateral. The extension only serves to further bother Yoongi about everything that Hoseok struggles to go through in order to fix the damage she caused.
“I don’t like her.” You say in the short silence, voice entirely disgusted, “No offense to your old feelings, Hoseok, but she sounds awful.” Yoongi can’t help smiling at his lap while you talk with contempt, finding your bluntness in the midst of heightened emotions consistent from the past instances he’s seen. Thinking it’s somehow an endearing quality.
“No offense taken. I don’t have feelings for her like that anymore anyways.” Hoseok smiles wide at your candor, happy at least that the mood isn’t so bleak anymore.
“Didn’t you say anything to defend yourself in the press though?”
“Well,” His smile crumbles, shifting into a more embarrassed and remorseful disposition when Hoseok rubs his neck sheepishly, “I was kind of stupid back then, and thought I was doing good for her by letting most of it go uncontested.” He chuckles hollowly, and you realize that this is the part of the memories he’s evidently not completely moved on from. You bite your lip, internally apologetic to the question. “That’s my own fault though.”
“No,” Yoongi cuts in quietly, yet firmly. His head shakes softly back and forth. “It’s not.”
You stop yourself from smiling fondly at Yoongi’s stance between Hoseok and an onslaught of self-blame. Entirely parallel of how he’s taken care of you through definitive speech assuring you that the trials you face aren’t create from your own error, Yoongi now glares at the idea that Hoseok put into the air. Obstinate against it when Hoseok tries to speak again and Yoongi instead voices, “Her misusing your feelings isn’t your fault.”
“I agree,” You say without realizing, watching the two of them glance back towards your direction when you inevitably bite your lip from speaking up. “Well,” Your word is nervous for a moment until you look at Yoongi and feel more sure. Finding Hoseok’s eyes again, you’re not doubtful as you try to back up Yoongi’s claim, “She shouldn’t have lied to the media in the first place just to save herself.”
“Oh, another addition to Yoongi’s hype squad for me?” Hoseok smiles gently as you finish your sentence, speaking his own with a jovial tone. You shrug, biting your lip and wondering shortly if you were too direct in how you spoke to him. “You know, when I heard he got tied into a fake relationship, I was kind of worried the person would be annoying.” You say nothing, instead biting your lip because initially you thought Yoongi hated you. “But you’re a nice person, Y/N. I’m glad it’s you.”
You grow silently surprised at Hoseok’s assessment of your character. Sending another glance in Yoongi’s direction that is matched by a tiny twist in your neck, you find him ready to meet you with just as tiny of a shrug. Slight smile almost floral in feeling. “He has to approve of even my fake girlfriends, I guess.” Yoongi explains in a gentle voice that’s sarcastic for Hoseok’s ears. You can’t help but smile in return as Yoongi’s words that play along imply in some ways that he thinks positively of you as well. Not that you doubted, but it is nice to see actively reinforced.
“I do!” Hoseok looks at Yoongi, nodding his head once in agreement, then back to you with a nod making full use of his chin to gesture to your person, “If Y/N hadn’t been cool, I would’ve gone and ruined more of my image trying to argue with your CEO.” Little bits of laughter escape your lips as you curl your knees further to your chest, comfortable with the two of them to feel like the conversation is wholly casual. “But I’ve bugged you both enough about my ex-- you both just woke up not too long ago, right? I’ll buy us lunch, let’s go out.”
You tense from surprise, your legs nearly kicking into yourself as you grip tighter when Hoseok all the sudden hops up from his seat on the couch. Pointing theatrically to you, then Yoongi, then himself, he speaks, “You both deserve it after dealing with my spiteful ex. I’ll drive too; let me just go to the bathroom real quickly.”
“You don’t have to join if you’re busy.” Yoongi tells you as Hoseok saunters down the hallway familiarly. You rest your chin on your knee thoughtful for a second to your calendar.
“I don’t have anything much to do anyways,” You mumble as you go over every hour as though your phone’s planner is in front of your eyes. “Oh-- but if you want it to be just the two of you…” Your voice trails off when Yoongi shakes his head, then leans it at an angle to rest against his palm. A smile plays at his lips when he speaks warmly,
“No, you can always feel free to tag along.” Your head nods unconsciously, finding his acceptance of your presence something to be proud of though you’re unsure why. Maybe because of how much you’ve looked up to his skills in your shares careers, maybe because of how much he’s helped you. Maybe because you enjoyed his company. “Ah,” He rubs his hair, somewhat light-hearted in voice as he adds sheepishly, “Well, I guess as long as you don’t mind pretending to be my girlfriend again though.”
You shrug, smiling towards Yoongi to assure him as you reply without a trace of disingenuity, “I’m used to it by now, Yoon.”
---
On a sunny day early in the following month, you sit sipping on an iced drink you picked up on the way to the company. Comfortably resting your arms on the pillow that sits on your crisscrossed lap, your head nods in tune with the beat of a song playing in soundproof headphones. In some moments to quickly place your cup to the coffee table, to scramble tiny notes on the notepad resting beside your thigh.
It’s the third time you’ve listened over the song in a row while Yoongi’s off finishing touch-ups on another song of his in the recording booth. Having spent the majority of the day in there, you brought along his preferred iced coffee drink that sits beside your own while you wait for him to come to his studio. Making use of the time, you’ve looked over the tiny playlist of in-progress tracks the two of you have messed around with for the past few weeks since the party.
Yoongi said you’re free to come to his studio whenever-- even gave you the passcode a while back-- justifying the great offer by saying he plans to release something from them so your help with any would be useful. You’re quite sure that in those stated truths also hid his way of giving you an outlet away from thinking of the collapse of your almost relationship with Jimin.
The method is effective to help, you’ve noticed. Along with Namjoon dragging you to his cafe to try concoctions he’s trying to decide on for future menus, while chatting with one another about nothing in particular, and Seokjin making all three of you do his random every-other-week activities, you’ve found the time outside of work filled well without giving you the time to dwell. And you’re thankful to the three of them for that. Especially considering Yoongi’s studio being a way to hideaway in the company itself.
It makes the hard to ponder memories invisible, though they’re left with the same mass. Undoubtedly something to cross again in time, but you think by then it’ll all be easier to handle. You’re hopeful of that idea.
In adding the finishing touch of notes for the current song, you watch a shadow envelope the paper you write on, but ignore Yoongi’s presence so the thought doesn’t leave. His shoes step in the corner of your peripherals, leading him to his chair as the last few lines of lyrics play in your ears. When you finally look up to see him, his hand is deep on top of his head, tossling locks of newly bleached hair as he sighs, though you can’t hear him. You remove his headphones to rest on your shoulders,
“Long session?” You question, reaching to swap your notepad with your drink, “Oh, I got you an Americano.” His head shifts at the mention of a deverage, and he rolls his seat over to grab it happily,
“Thank you-- need it.” Yoongi sips the beverage languidly through the straw, and you wonder if he actually went to sleep when he said he would the night before when you both were texting back in forth wrapped up in work independent of one another. “Yeah, I just couldn’t get the bridge to sound like I wanted.” Another sip disrupts the ice in the cup causing clatter. “Sorry, I took awhile.”
“I don’t mind.” You tell him, relaxing back into the couch where you stretch your legs out, catching the sight of different notifications on his computer as he wakes it. “Besides it’s not like any of the stuff we’re working on is legit.” Yoongi hums with the straw between his lips, lazily dragging his mouse around to check in on various emails and messages.
“Maybe if I could get my management team to ease up on the hardass image for me.” You notice the twinge in his calm tone while he ponders aloud, uncaring of how he disagrees with his public image. Trusting you with his complaints. “But either way, it’s nice making whatever without the pressure of releasing it eventually.”
You set your finished drink back on the coffee table, using a coaster still so the ice’s condensation doesn’t leave a ring. The idea of release sounds more inviting to your ears than you would like to admit, mainly because of how much you enjoy working on the tracks thus far. While Yoongi had the overall say due to the songs being ultimately his, they nonetheless have plenty of your touch mixed in that would likely be replaced in little bits if it were other producers working on them. At least in Yoongi’s case if something didn’t fit for him he’d tell you rather than letting you find out on the release date itself when you listen in along with the general public.
“By the way, I forgot to mention recently, but I’m going to be out of town for a couple of weeks.” Your head lifts stirring the hair framing your face. Yoongi returns the gaze, but the silence that takes over feels surprising to both of you. Subtle as it may be, there’s something disappointing about the news. “I have some fan meetings in a few countries to do around by debut anniversary time.” The explanation feels lackluster, not because it bothers him to go off to see fans-- Yoongi definitely enjoys connecting with those who listen to and support his work. You nod at his words, uncertain yourself of what to say.
Maybe it’s because the past couple of months you’ve seen him practically every day that the idea Yoongi will be gone for two weeks feels odd. In your head you question what you’ll do around the time spent working for the company. You’ll likely not even have to show up to work during that time, capable of doing everything from your apartment.
“What day do you leave?” You wonder how you never heard of his departure before this. Knowing fan meetings are organized well in advance, knowing that Yoongi wouldn’t have actually forgotten to mention it this far in.
“This coming Tuesday.” Six days off and he’s just now mentioning it. You nod again, considering why he waited so long. A type of consideration? You smile a little, ready to joke it off if you were wrong,
“Were you worried about telling me because I’d be alone here at the company?”
Yoongi shakes his head a little, not combating your question with light sarcasm or laughter, showing you that you’re at least some correct in your presumption. The drink you brought him gets placed beside his keyboard, Yoongi turning his chair towards you properly as he admits easily, “Not completely, but,” He shrugs, “It was a thought.”
“I’ll be okay.” Your voice sounds sure, and you feel the same energy. “Bit bored maybe.” Yoongi’s lips cast upwards into a smile, relaxed by your tone and feeling silly that he worried about it in the first place. “I’m used to kinda being on my own here anyways, and besides I have Joon and Jin to go bother if I get really bored.”
“And me.” Yoongi’s words follow the end of your sentence, firm in how he speaks to set the point across clearly. You pause, considering intention only for a second because it sounds different how he places himself into the group. “You don’t have to get bored, you can text or call whenever.”
You bite your inner cheek, trying to push back the tiniest flutter developing from how his voice sounds entirely gentle and sweet. Yoongi likely isn’t even aware of his effect, but like usual he’s a comforting presence. “Yeah, and you.”
Yoongi smiles when the outline of gratitude makes your own lips curl upright, but you duck your chin a little into the cover over the crossed arms you left perched atop your knees. He just continues in the soft expression, continuing along with a shrug, “Plus you know the code to my studio, so you can come in here whenever. I make it sound like I’m leaving for a year. So dramatic.” You giggle as Yoongi rubs the base of his neck and avoids eye contact for a moment because of sudden fluster emitting in his throat that he worries may escape visually onto his face.
“I should get you a cake or something for your debut anniversary.” You say to break away his embarrassment, though it’s a refreshing sight to witness. “I actually bake really well, isn’t that shocking?”
“So shocking since you burnt your leftovers in your oven the other day.” Your eyebrows furrow at his teasing tone while your lips pout at the memory. “You complained about it to me-”
“Anyways,” You cut him off with a smile to which Yoongi just shakes his head and chuckles. Reclining in his seat he listens to you continue brightly, “Vanilla cake with strawberry cream cheese frosting. It’ll be pink and pretty. Sound enticing?”
“It does in fact,” He nods slowly amused by your confidence in your baking capabilities. “You don’t need to though, it probably takes a lot of work.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t be humble, you deserve it for seven years in the industry.” You point to yourself, trying to continue in the light-hearted banter while you reinforce, “Just think of it as a fan from day one giving her favorite artist a gift, okay?”
“Fan.” Yoongi laughs, finally reclaiming his iced Americano after many of the cubes melted to half their sizes. “I don’t think of you as a fan, that’s impossible,” Yoongi murmurs taking a long sip, as you audibly huff and think of a new way to put it. “But since you’re insisting then it’s okay. Don’t worry if you get too busy though.”
“I won’t, I’m pretty free other than business as usual around here.” You say happy to hear him verbally accept, even though you planned to make him the gift in any case. You sit back contemplating the shape while Yoongi just chuckles mumbling something to himself about you doing things however you like no matter what he says. “Oh,” You reconsider your calendar, biting your lip at the particular day coming up during Yoongi’s absence. Timely occurrence in retrospect.
“What?” Yoongi notices the change in your eyes that narrow as you think over your upcoming two weeks without him. You shake your head slightly, trying to rationalize the event. It’s just business and not something to worry about, but now that the time has come so much closer, the two options of what you could do play in your mind cluttering your thoughts from answering him for a minute. You eventually frown, stirring worried bubbles in Yoongi’s chest that don’t settle as you shake it away to smile up at him sheepishly,
“I just remembered I have a meeting to start discussing my contract renewal next Friday.”
Yoongi hears more of the ice in his drink clatter as it melts. The news is unexpected to his ears entirely having not known that your contract with SoundWave would end this year. He considers your job and how much anguish it gives you to be unable to have recognition for anything you do. He also considers Jimin’s presence and how much it likely hurts to see him around the company, to still work with him.
Realizing you’re much more talented than what this company deserves considering your treatment, Yoongi almost feels the need to tell you not to renew and leave. Find better work, but he knows that’s a gamble as unlikely as winning the lottery. Even if you leave there’s no certainty of work elsewhere, especially not to the degree that you receive presently. When your repertoire is practically empty of accomplishment. Despite Yoongi not being in your position, he feels trapped thinking of a way to change it.
“Are you going to renew?” Yoongi asks you gently, the question liken more closely to an accidental thought than a real inquisition. He watches in dismay as your shoulders simply shrug in response, understanding that the reality of the upcoming meeting will certainly bother you more than the ramifications of your situation with Jimin ending. If anything add greatly to it. And he’s not going to be around to help you with it in person.
“Yeah, I’m going to.” Your statement ends the drought of words. The information makes Yoongi’s shoulders tense, somewhat surprised that you already have an answer of what you plan to do. To the majority of people it’s the most logical, economical-- safe of the two choices available to you. But it feels constricting in his chest to hear you say those words.
Yoongi recalls Hoseok letting the media destroy his image and now watches you say you’re going to let your career go unnoticed because of SoundWave’s manipulation. Each situation is different, but watching his friends powerless to bigger forces around them makes Yoongi’s fists clench, irritated. He sighs to himself, really at a loss of what to tell you that could be of any use, because there’s really no contest between the two options.
Your ears pick up on the sound of Yoongi sighing in dissatisfaction. You know it’s not aimed at your choice, but likely the thoughts in his head that presently make him stare towards the wall with his eyebrows hardened. Like Namjoon, he doesn’t want you to come to that decision. But you have a feeling both know there’s little for you not signing the paper again.
You’re unwilling to give up doing what you love for a living, even if the situation isn’t ideal.
“I think,” You start timidly, watching Yoongi’s eyes flick towards you intently paying attention. “I’m probably going to take up your offer to call you a few times… So sorry in advance if I get annoying by doing it too much.”
“You won’t,” Yoongi brushes his bands from his face, head shaking at the idea and that you still worry about those kinds of things with him. “I like talking with you, it’s not going to bother me.”
“You like talking to me?” You repeat hearing that your voice sounds higher from the surprise-- flattered. Yoongi’s open mouth shuts, contemplating if the phrasing sounded weird, but he just shrugs and nods, once again avoiding eye contact for the sake of embarrassment.
“Yeah.” He just says, rubbing his face, “Well, we’re friends--why wouldn’t I?”
“Yeah,” You can’t stop the smile on your face despite the pink blossoming around the site, “I’m honored-”
“Don’t tease me.” You laugh at him cutting off your sentence with a tiny growl of words, thinking Yoongi seems really endearing when he’s flustered by things he clearly didn’t think through saying. “I was going to get you dinner to pay back for the drink, but now I don’t know if I want to.” You hear him speaking like a warning as you continue to laugh softly, all the while Yoongi stands and rubs his face.
“Dinner is equivalent to a three dollar Americano?” You watch him with a testing smile, voice light-hearted. Yoongi shrugs as he sits beside you on the couch, intending to finally see your notes on the songs you’ve been working on.
“If I buy at McDonald’s it is.”
if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags-- however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )
tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi@xionysus
#bts#yoongi#jimin#yoongi imagines#jimin imagines#bts imagines#jimin fanfiction#yoongi fanfiction#bts fanfiction#yoongi fluff#jimin fluff#bts fluff#bts angst#yoongi angst#jimin angst#jimin smut#yoongi smut#bts smut#bts au#yoongi au#jimin au#bts series#yoongi series#jimin series#series veil#all
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⭐ for "Thing Without a Name" / 🙂: "Nikolai’s love had never burned. It was like a late-autumn sun – bright and glowing, but only lukewarm against her pale skin, never hot enough to burn, even at high noon. Dolokhov is all fire, and it frightens her. She wonders if she is even capable of feeling that strongly, that passionately. For him or for anyone else."
Thing Without a Name - What’s a scene/paragraph you’re proud of?
Unfortunately, this is not one of my better fics, though I think it serves well enough. But I can’t say I have a favorite section where I’m like “yes I love this stylistically” or whatever. If I have to chose, I did get a kick out of the bit of hurt/comfort melded with UST I inserted in there: “It were the smallest of touches that made the difference – brushing strands of Theodore’s hair out of his face, holding his hand, helping him sit up with a hand on his back. With every day, every touch, the desire for contact grew stronger and stronger in Nikolai to the point that he could not resist it, could not deny it. If he hadn’t been so worried, so focused, he would have been ashamed and baffled at his body’s reactions to these innocent, platonic touches. “
🙂 - Leave your favorite line from my story in the ask and I’ll tell you what I was thinking.
Embarrassingly, I don’t remember exactly which Sonyakhov this is from lol. But this is pretty generally how I see the difference in Sonya relationship with Nikolai and how it contrasted with being courted by Dolokhov. The love with Nikolai was very...idealistic and bordering platonic, very intertwined with familial attachments and such. It was warm and made her happy and if he had really loved her back and they had stayed together they could have had a very content relationship with a very calm sort of love, just kind of sinking straight into the Family phase, without much honeymooning so to speak. Dolokhov is kind of her sexual awakening in a way almost similar to how Anatole is for Natasha. She is actively sexually attracted to him and he is a very different person from NIkolai and the way he loves her is different, more passionate, more forceful. And the intensity kind of scares her.
#war and peace#asked and answered#writing#fanfiction#op#mynameisemma#TWAN is old enough that its from when I still anglicised the names fgnjsfklfjk
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Melancholy As A Gib Cat
A/N: Stream of consciousness, abstract, allegorical writing; dialogue and narrative never seem to harmonise in my style because they’re still stuck in the honeymoon phase, so if it reads with a surrealist, philosophical tone, it’s probably intentional lol (probably...)
One lone susurration of pending concern braids the air with tension.
“Sir…?”
The hour is a quarter past midnight. Clocks, sedated in circumduction. Stood before a hunched and forlorn figure, the nurse is toilworn. Yet again stricken by travails entailed by working an additional night shift, she sighs interminably, mechanically, at the returning absence of reply.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we need you to vacate the premises. You’ve been lounging here since noon and have yet to provide any reasoning as to why you’re here.”
She’s confused by the jarring decibel of sudden laughter ejected from his throat. An abrupt propulsion of hilarity expectorates from the phlegm-encrusted pharynx, leaving her briefly disoriented. Did he really think this was... funny?
“Orderlies must not be so great at their job if 12 hours have passed and the ‘homeless’ man hasn’t been escorted to that slate of solid air you call an exit.”
Beyond the delicate tenor of his voice, oddly enticing in its fluctuation, the nurse pretends to lend a deaf ear to this retort, turning a blind eye to the lopsided grin that falters upon his painted features. Feigning nescience, her own facade of draconian necessity is adjusted accordingly, despite expressing unspoken agreement to her colleagues’ chronic apathy and incompetence.
Nevertheless, while Mondays had always been particularly hellsent in the realm of corporate captivity, this Stygian Monday seemed to be wrapped especially by the Dark Prince himself. The fact that it was the night of All Hallows’ Eve made her consider this disheveled man’s appearance as no mere coincidence. When he had first arrived on the scene, stumbling through the Exit as Entrance, mildly disoriented, she had failed to recognise precisely what had compelled her brows to arch in amusement. What source of strange attraction had magnetised the warm cocoa of her irises to that broad brush of porcelain white masking his face.
Lest she forget how evocative his complexion illustrated. The outline of his form was unusually thin. Frighteningly so. As obscure compensation, he was dressed to the nines in a trio of lurid colours, both appealing yet tawdry to the mind’s eye. An edible arrangement of all primary colours, somehow satisfied in discordant harmony. A fitting description for her peculiar taste. An ode of testament to the otherwise concrete depiction of malnutrition evincing as aesthetically pleasing.
Initially, she had surmised the cartoonish outfit as being his choice of costume in adherence to that festive day of tricks and treats. Either that, or his profession happened to choreograph the motions of an actual clown. A number of employees had conceded in arriving to work cosplaying as their fulsome, fictional fancies. As such, any flux of odd characters roaming about was to be expected. Anthropomorphic pumpkins, animated skeletons and ragamuffin children included.
In any case, this curious visitor of afternoon and eventide had been given to staking a claim of extended residence to the reception area. When he wasn’t loafing about, casually, if not at self-conscious moments, modestly dancing about the floor, before an Argus-eyed crowd of perplexed patrons, his lissome limbs could be observed sprawled along the expanse of four chairs, lackadaisical and gay in demeanour, the peeling paint of a white ceiling providing him jocose entertainment for the lees of an unproductive evening.
He was a man of average height, to be sure, but his gangling structure gave the illusion of a taller stature. This eccentric coalition of artistic elements: tousled mop of head, saturated by acid green, highlighted punctuation of avian beak, which was further accented by the occasional creeping of a queried smile riddled with snaggleteeth. Summarily, a sort of misshapen handsomeness. She could only wonder if he had silently observed her as she did him with such unprecedented intensity.
“Do you need medication? Any health complications you want to identify?” Insouciant as the gait that waltzed him through in absurd performance, Arthur takes a neutral drag from the burning cylinder of his self-prescribed medicine, effectively substituting any verbalised answer. Perhaps this poor soul was just like the others. Solicitous, only by social mandate. It needn’t be repeated ad nauseam, but, indeed, he thinks. Indeed, humans were vapid, egocentric creatures; born and bred without the guidance of a tender leash. Without the scourge of humility as a redolent scar to sear inveterate marks of mediocrity.
“I’ll be more than happy to help.” Regardless of station or influence, the individual was little more than a fractured reflection, rife with lacerations, knifed and bludgeoned by nameless enemies. Bereaved and forgotten to tuneless threnodies.
“Unfortunately, at this late an hour, we can’t accept regular clients if the situation isn’t exigent. To endure the best possible assessment for your proposed infirmity, I recommend you return first thing tomorrow.”
The nameless anonymity of selfhood guided by severed fibers of the optic nerve. To heedless vision does refractive frame reveal a bruised and battered mosaic.
“What’s your name?” Arthur’s sharp intake of nicotine precedes the inquiry.
“Pardon?”
Arthur flits his weary gaze to the empty patch of fabric where a tag of nomination should be.
“I see you neglected to wear a name tag.” The humour in this sardonic intimation is diluted. Drowned to expiry by the egregore of predetermined comedy. Straightening ever so slightly in his seat, Arthur relaxes against the sterile, leather cushion of the hospital’s waiting room decor. It was unprofessional. “It’s a lovely costume.” Sincerely, it was. That blatant disregard to identity, presumptive though it was, could never have gone unnoticed, if not wholly unappreciated.
Before the innominate nurse can voice a rebuttal, Arthur accentuates his commanding tone by procuring a twin cigarette from the hard pack nestled in his left jacket pocket, swiftly and effortlessly lighting it with the old school dexterity exampled by that of a seasoned smoker, rich with the prescription of addicting tales from a turbulent history. It is this expression of confidence and appealing manner which has the nurse’s bosom palpitating with a sense of unrealised sexual awakening. A sense of sapid scent to the olfaction that was as fleeting in arrival as it was in departure. Yet, clinging in anticipation. Lingering in a recess of orphaned emotions.
“How are the patient and physician expected to establish a relationship built on trust if names aren’t exchanged?”
The nurse couldn’t decide whether or not to be annoyed at his inquiries. He was beginning to give off the vibe of a man victimised by premature senility, lonely and isolated. Struggling to connect with others due to both variables being broiled in longevity. By no means was the presumption intended as derogatory. Harmless scrutiny of the human condition was often easily misconstrued for criticism and pejorative nuance. However, as it stands, the nurse couldn’t eschew assertion in her isle of employment not advertising specialised treatment to the elderly. Moreover, it was plain to see that the man was nowhere near elderly, in spite of gaunt and debilitating appearance. Nor was he gallivanting in a glorified convalescent home.
“Firstly, I’m a nurse.” Securing her hands in her pockets, she can’t help mimicking the man’s neurotic actions, fiddling with the fraying threads of that orangish shade of red. His, admittedly nice, hands, if not fastened to his habit, were havering in exploration, gliding across sparse thighs to grasp and release at various areas, hovering above his face with gentle, reluctant pressure, memorising every pore and facial quirk, patently emotive in expression. If nothing else, his presence was innocuous, at best. Still... one could never be too safe.
“Secondly, you haven’t been registered as a patient.” Fingers start drumming with sentience against a contrast of more replete thighs, concealed from perusal by the deep ivory pockets of her lab coat. “After midnight, we have to start shifting focus to emergencies only.” If she were uncomfortable, it didn’t register in her voice. Unbeknownst to her, the gentleman sat before her possessed quite a flair for spatial awareness. This, alone, registers with dormant reflex. Only her body language conveys an increasing touch of unease to the brand of his indelible presence.
“Seeing as you aren’t in need of intensive care, I won’t be able to assist you properly unless you make a morning appointment.” Even whilst perusing the distance, there was something strangely intimidating about his gaze. Flecks of numbing pain sparkle across his sclera, contrary to the deadly evergreens of his remaining anatomy, pupils fixated on a full lunar radiance knocking at the entry, dilated in aspiration.
The following response of chest pangs are null in sympathy as the nurse suppresses an aberrant impulse to embrace the man who seems to have embodied the spirit of Atlas and Sisyphus in solidarity. Still, her empathy relents to portray as tone deaf.
“My apologies, but I really do have to ask you to lea-“
“Who are you to decide that?” Visible offense erases the scenic tranquility of his physiognomy. He was affected by Weltschmerz. Thoroughly distressed. Nervously anchoring his cancer stick to rouge-stained purse of lips. “That I’m ‘not in need of intensive care’?” Anxious knees begin to bounce of their own volition, gradually elevating intensity with each tapping force of urgency against polished tile. “Are injuries only examined as skin-deep to be considered treatable? What if I were bleeding internally with no apparent symptoms on the surface?”
Arthur frowns in contemplation, appearing struck by a gold mine of memory, extracting a weighted ore of recognition from the farrago of his musings.
“What did you mean by ‘we’?” Cocking his head like that of a cat bedevilled by the spirited tick of inquisitiveness, those piercing, ocean eyes of his flicker and fix in a way that makes the nurse delirious, for a brief spell. “Do you not exist alone?”
There was no ‘best course of action’ in this scenario. The man was clearly a clown. A delusional joker. In every sense of etymology. As those fabricated brows of crimson patiently await a verdict, she peers down at him, an owner, sapped of vim and vigour, siphoning their fuel reserve of energy to an eager pet, imbibed by a perpetual battery of endurance.
Decisive is she in her aim to play along. Any choice of dialogue that ultimately resulted in the man’s resolute departure was in direct correlation with her supporting role as the damsel in distress. There’s only one thing she wants to know before she ushers away this creepy, (cute) clown herself.
The instantaneous display of misplaced intimacy is not telling of an absent mind. Where this surge of impulse to touch strangers derived, she had no desire to ponder. Sans any ounce of shame, she had longed to get a feel for the enchanting canvas of his suit. And here, it is unclear as to whether Arthur or the nurse relaxes beneath this foreign caress. Of trust, a test, to anyone’s guess. An inviting hug of hands in silent greeting. A polarised streak of magnetism, mesmerising her idealistic heart to him. Therein, begs another question to the insatiate bird of passage. Was she merely attracted to the idea of him, as a means to evade capitalist oppression? Or, was it instead an insisting tug of fate? Kismet? Predestination? Searching earnestly, perhaps even desperately, for any signs of transparency shielded beneath that striking hue of sorrowed blue.
“I wonder…”
How she fantasised about running away to the freak show. The one that wasn’t christened ‘society’.
“Who’s the man behind the clown?”
Unconsciously, the filter slips from his ruddy mouth, reduced to embers with the spreading fervor of his crooked smile.
Maybe he could be her one-way ticket to dream town.
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*GASP* Great goodness!!! Kyuranger just refuses to let up, doesn't it? Episode 30 delivers a heart-shattering entry, all wrapped up in a graceful power-up package...
- I'll start with a somewhat unrelated rant: I couldn't watch this episode live last Sunday! Aaaarggh. My internet provider changed the fee (AGAIN... that I'm not even that much surprised anymore), so I'm stuck using free public wifi until yesterday noon. And get this, when I decided to renew it with such heavy heart, let's just say... I got duped BIG TIME. To the point that I'm still slapping my own face in utter disappointment and anger, for falling into the company's sneaky stupid ploy all over again. *SIGH*. Now that THAT's out of the way, on to the recap-view then... - Since the opening scene focuses mainly on Orion and Tsurugi, let's talk about what I forgot to mention on my previous recap-view. That sweet friendly river-side moment between them! Some audience might think that the conversation they brought up regarding Orion's newborn felt... a little on the nose. If you ask me, it's actually NOT. IMO, if you think about it logically and/or chronologically, that dialogue actually made good sense. How? After the supposed final battle with Don Armage, a wounded Past-Tsurugi was brought by Orion to Earth, and put in a cold-sleep aboard the Argo. Fast forward 333 years later, the Rebellions awakened Tsurugi in the present time. He likely spent at least 2 weeks after he woke up, in which during that time he: clashed with the Kyurangers, but eventually became one of them; went to Planet Tocky, and searched for the Horologium Kyu Globe; and along with the 'Time Travel' team, went back to the past to recheck history. Meanwhile, from Orion's side of things, having just completed his deed to the Past-Phoenix Soldier, he spotted the ORION crashing, ran into the Kyurangers, and was reunited with Tsurugi again. If one easily compares the two separate timelines from Tsurugi's and Orion's point of view, then it's become clear. Eventhough they have indeed been 333 years apart, thanks to Horologium, the reality was far more shorter than that! For Orion, it was merely hours if not minutes since he last left Past-Tsurugi in the Argo. Tsurugi on the other hand, had only advanced a month at most due to the cold-sleep. Logically, he still had all the memories prior to the sleep (of 333 years ago) in tact in his mind. THIS is the reason why the dialogue about family between them flowed very naturally! It's just a casual chit-chat between friends who haven't seen each other... fairly briefly. That's all! - Of course, that dialogue still serves as the key for the two of them to deduce that Lucky... might have been Orion's very own descendant. That means, Lucky isn't Orion's son, as the rumor suggested (for now at least, it's still a giant mystery anyway). Regardless of that, he's still an important figure who serves as a catalyst for the Kyurangers, due to having the blood of two Constellation Systems. That's the main reason why Tsurugi, the Kyurangers, and later Orion wants to protect him at all cost. - And that is also where the episode hurts. From the beginning of the episode (or the preview last week), it is teased that Tsurugi might give away his life to heal Lucky. Using the power of Phoenix Kyu Globe is taking the toll out of him, so the chance of him getting out unscathed is minimum at best. We even get to see Tsurugi's quick origin story, of when he first obtained the Kyu Globe when his spaceshuttle crashed. Basically, 'death flag' has been fluttering over Tsurugi, which is why the actual death comes totally unexpected and a lot more shocking. It's Orion's final moment instead!!! - On one hand, Orion IS hiding a severe bloody wound, due to shielding the Kyurangers from Don Armage's devastating attack. So he pretty much has been waving his own giant death flag too. On the other hand, he's a crucial legendary figure who will pass on the legend of the Kyurangers throughout the entire universe. Even the team smartly points out that, without Orion, the Kyurangers wouldn't have existed in the first place. Preview for this episode even showed him in battle, helping Leo Red debuts his new power-up. The general assumption is, there's no way, he's going to die, right? That's where Kyuranger throws us off balance once again, because Orion passes away anyway! It's a HUGE, and genuine "OH MY GOODNESS... NOOOOO!!!" (if not blatantly "WTH!!!") moment, and I'm positive the dead silence or echoes of jaws dropping are reverberating throughout the audience. My heart literally stops! And I'm still mulling over it until now... NOTE: Only several movies (like some Marvel Studios ones, though usually Oscar contenders) and TV shows (mostly anime titles) have managed to make feel so... heartbroken like this. Kyuranger positions itself nicely into this exceptional category, which is a rare accomplishment for a Tokusatsu series. I'm not trying to be sarcastic here, but huge thumbs up for TOEI! - Not only Orion's unfortunate demise works as a twist, but also as a major shakeup to the entire story. It is an unexpected alteration in the past, so there will be massive ramifications going forward. It raises even more questions that will make every fans feel concerned. If Orion no longer lives another day, then who would hand over Carina Kyu Globe to Eris' safekeeping? If Eris never has it, then that means the Argo would not be revived in the present time, and Tsurugi would never be reawaken! More importantly, as has been pointed out before, without Orion, the Kyurangers' existence is in danger. Which urgently prompts Commander Xiao to stay behind, taking Orion's place to spread the heroic legend. Ignoring the fact that it's another giant change to the past, does this mean his role as a Kyuranger also comes to an end? *gasp*. In a way, Champ (who will be part of the "Episode Stinger" V-Cinema, which apparently takes place some time later) is already hinting that he and Xiao will surely find a way back to the present. But it doesn't stop making me feel very... anxiously curious. With the two of them being left in the past... is the show trying to throw either of them as the possible face behind the new Don Armage? That would... still be a possibility, right? One more thing, the loss of Orion pretty much rules out my theory that he is the next Don Armage. For now, at the very least. Unlike Kuervo, the Kyurangers actually bury him for good, so he's truly dead. Then again, lest we forget HOW Darth Vader was created... - The grand power up, The Miracle Star Leo Red Orion debuts! It is channeled through the #315 Supreme Kyu Globe, which is realized through the unity of Lucky and Orion's powers and shared resolution to protect the universe. And of course, through the latter's sacrifice... *sobs*. It's undeniably a GORGEOUS design, with fluttering mantle and all. Probably one of the best White member I've seen throughout Super Sentai history. Assigning the color white is also a very wise decision. Not only because white is the combination of prime colors, but in case of Kyuranger, it also adds balance to the team. No wonder Phoenix Soldier gets to be another Red, because when Leo Red uses this form, each of the original colors are still represented. Speaking of combination, it has a dang fine-looking transformation sequence that unites all 12 powers of the Kyurangers too. Turns out, despite many fan-speculations, Supreme doesn't require Naga to be with the team to pull off. It likely falls inline with my theory that Lucky serves as a catalyst for the other Kyurangers, meaning he's the only one necessary for this upgrade. And that is also one wicked finisher. Nope, not the Gate of Babylon-esque with the Kyu the Weapons, which was... nice. I'm talking about that "ALL STAR GALAXY! IN-FINISH BLAST!" that channels the entire 88 Constellations. Dang it... I feel goosebumps when all those stars lit up and create a big bang. Wonderful, simply wonderful! Fun fact: Supreme Kyu Globe, or SAIKOU KYUTAMA in Japanese, has an odd numbering of #315. If you're wondering the reason why, then well... highly likely the answer is: because it's a nifty pun. 3 - 1 - 5 is SAN - ICHI - GO in Japanese, but it can also be read as SA-I-KO. Get it?! LOL. Also, 3 + 1 + 5 equals...? Yep... NINE or KYU in Japanese. Brilliant, right! The finisher "In-Finish Blast" is also a clear pun for the word 'INFINITE', which explains Leo Red Orion's ability to bend space and time. There's also one theory that the Supreme Kyu Globe is modelled after the 9 planets of the Earth's Solar System. It's unconfirmed for now, but I think it makes a lot of sense... - Before I move on to the last point, allow me to point out several bits of the episode that I find to be really interesting: 1) Don Armage's hideous humanoid form seems to be the extent of his power. He claims that he can't hold back his power in that state, which is probably why he's also more vulnerable to attacks. We also see him reviving Akyanba and Tecchu for the mecha battle, giving us explanation to why the Vice-Shoguns keep showing up and are still alive to the present time. And before anyone complains that he's so easy to be defeated, do remember one thing: we're not even in the finale yet, as the new/present-time Don Armage is ALWAYS meant to be the true big bad. 2) I LOVE how a wounded Lucky doesn't want Tsurugi to sacrifice himself. That's a powerful scene, amped up by Lucky's genuine emotion. The concern and also pain on his face feels so real, which means the actor does a truly fine job. Say anything you want about Lucky, this proves he's definitely one of the better Reds in the recent years. Meanwhile, Tsurugi himself is showcasing a wonderful growth in character. From someone who used to be self-centered, into a team player who would risk his own life for his comrade. 3) Although I'm not quite sure why Xiao doesn't just use his Draco Voyager to form Ryutei-Oh, him being assigned to use Leo Voyager and form Kyuren-Oh is indeed a wiser choice. This way, other Kyurangers (including Raptor who spends most of the time repairing the ORION) get to participate in the big battle. It's supposed to be a final-battle-esque showdown with Don Armage after all, so they need all manpower available. 4) It seems that contrary to what Tsurugi said, Phoenix Kyu Globe does NOT have the power to restore/revive life. It can only be used to regenerate health, as shown by Lucky's critical state, and also Tsurugi's own condition when he was adrift in space. Otherwise, Tsurugi can always use it again to revive Orion and keep the flow of history. Am I right? 5) I have a feeling we'll be seeing Orion again in the future. I doubt TOEI cast a great actor like Kai Shishido for brief appearances that lasted only two episodes (three, if we count that cliffhanger ending in episode 28). Heck, we even get to see Eris several times again. Which is why the theory that either he or Kuervo might be the new Don Armage is still very much in play. Then again, noone can really tell much when it comes to Kyuranger. This show tends to startle audience with genuine surprises... more often than not. LOL. At the very least, I hope we get to see him again somehow, because even in such a short time, he has truly left a strong impression. 6) A good amount of time must have passed between the moment the team discovered Orion, and the flower scene in front of his grave. I doubt Raptor is able to completely repair the ORION for their return trip in a flash, because it was left in such a bad shape before (notice that the ship visually looks much better?). Critical audience might want to consider this before they start complaining about how fast Lucky gets over Orion's death. I doubt that grave scene is Orion's funeral anyway. It's more likely the team comes there to pay tribute for one last time, before departing home (to their era). Oh and yeah, turns out this grave is very similar to a certain character's from "One Piece". Concidence? I doubt. 7) Lastly, regarding Xiao's new role in the past. Things are starting to make much clearer sense the more I think about it. Some folks at RangerBoard (Dukemon, TealMystechRanger, and TavionJackson to name a few) back this up, by speculating that the whole scenario could be a 'bootstrap paradox'. Meaning, it has always been Xiao, and not Orion, who started and spread the "Legend of Nine Saviours" that refers to the Kyuranger. This explains why it's NINE, instead of Ten, Eleven, nor Twelve, because Xiao knows that the team would start out with the number Nine (him being the Tenth and all)! Also, remember his story about Mr. Pega? That might not be a random tall-tale after all, but part of his quest to collect the Kyu Globes. But what about the history that says that it's Orion, and not someone who comes from a dragon-tribe who told the story? Like the whole situation with Eris that I've pointed out above. That would only mean a huge contradiction, right? Now this is where things get surprisingly interesting. Turns out, there IS a particular Kyu Globe that grants its user the ability to... SHAPESHIFT. It's still a speculation/theory for now, but I honestly won't be surprised if Xiao used that to disguise himself as Orion (thus bringing him 'alive' again to do the job), in order to prevent the new flow of history from erasing the Kyurangers in the present time. This one in particular, leads us to the final point... - As if the loss of Orion isn't enough, the show delivers another terrifying surprise. The present... remains the SAME. Jark Matter is still rulling the universe. Akyanba and Kukuruga are still alive and well as they did before. Dark-Naga is now taking Tecchu's place as a new Vice-Shogun, possibly their leader. And Don Armage is still reigning, despite his clear defeat in the hands of Leo Red Orion. It seems NONE of the alterations the 'Time Travel' has done in the past affects the present. Does this mean, everything actually goes... according to the way it should have been? Thus... that causal loop theory that I've stated above gets even more plausible! One thing for sure, Armage's sinister laughter in the cliffhanger, can only mean one thing... it's back to square one for the team!
Overall: To be honest, not unlike that wicked finisher, all kinds of logic was flying off the table in this episode as well. But dang it, if that wasn't another mindblowing rollercoaster episode. One that took my breath away, torn my heart into broken pieces... like a fierce punch in the gut that I haven't been able to fully recover ever since. For an episode that served as a power-up debut (which was simply marvelous on its own), it's still packed with all the right flavors. The humor, intensity of emotions, the high stakes? And yes, I totally couldn't hold back my tears when Orion closed his eyes for good... which says A LOT. If this were another show or Super Sentai season, this episode could easily serve as a finale or some sort. But nope, Kyuranger is not stopping anytime soon. The past might have been altered, yet the present remained the same. If the real Don Armage was eliminated in the past, that means the current Don Armage's identity is someone else entirely. Still a massive question mark that is shrouded in mystery. Personally, I can no longer predict what's going to happen next. It's one surprise after another, and to think that we still have (at most) 19 more episodes after this! This show is NOT pulling any punches, and continues to be a delight week after week. That's why I honestly can't believe some audience are still looking down on it despite a streak of strong features. Oh well, I guess it's their loss... Next week: 'Save Naga' Team is back on center stage! PS: Tsurugi makes his very first spotlight in the ending sequence, pairing up with Lucky. Oh and yeah, Gigant Phoenix and Kyutamajin have already been added to the opening since episode 28. I don't think I have mentioned about it before. LOL.
Episode 30 Score: 8,5 out of 10
Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: September 22nd, 2017 - Version 2.14. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)
All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.
#tokusatsu#SuperSentai#kyuranger#uchu sentai kyuranger#uchuu sentai kyuranger#review#melancholymoments#awesome
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Hiya. I decided to do a part 5 to show how much your relationship with Poe has changed since having the baby.
You have a mild case of the baby blues since giving birth. Mentally and physically you're exhausted.
But Poe is every bit the loving and supportive partner you could've hoped for. You and his son occupy most of his heart.
This chapter is all about the fluff with brief, passionate smut. Cuddling, soft kisses, reassurance, his love for you and his son.
I guess you would call this one emotional fluff porn. Lol.
Warnings, smut, oral sex, some depression trigger warnings I guess? Mainly this is cuddly, loving Poe being a good father and reassuring you about your body. Sigh.
Flirting with disaster chapter 5
It's the morning after you've given birth. Mentally and physically you are hurting. After the joy of the moment wore off you were left with the cold, hard reality of things.
You experienced a 2nd degree tear and needed a few stitches. Your belly and breasts now have stretch marks where smooth skin once was.
You've never felt more unsexy in your postpartum underwear and nursing bra. But Poe is still making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.
That first night you got to sleep as Poe took care of his son. He loves being a dad. Fatherhood brought out the soft, loving side of his personality even more.
You're still fast asleep when an exhausted Poe curls up next to you and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer.
"Maxi is finally asleep". Poe tells you with an exhausted yawn.
"I feel fat and ugly". You tell him as you fight back tears.
"No, stop that". Poe replies with a deep sigh as he snuggles you, burying his face in your neck and playfully nuzzling you. "You had a baby 24 hours ago, you'll always be beautiful".
"I'm in so much pain, physically too". You continue, savoring the feeling of his warm body against yours. "My back, breasts, everything hurts, plus I needed stitches".
"Don't worry". Poe tells you, kissing the back of your next softly. "Please, I'll always love you, you gave me our beautiful son".
The two of you soon fall asleep. The next morning you're awakened by the sound of the baby crying. You wearily get out of bed and check his diaper, you quickly change him and then relax in the rocking chair, his big, dark eyes are wide open.
You kiss the top of his little head, which is already covered with thick, soft, curly hair. The baby heavily favors Poe looks wise, he's his true mini me.
You're breastfeeding him when Poe walks into the room. He kisses you tenderly on the lips and says,
"You look like you're feeling better, I hope you slept well".
"I'm feeling a lot better". You reply, a slight smile appearing on your face.
"Look at him". Poe tells you with a huge smile on his face as he leans down and kisses him on the side of his little face. "Isn't he the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"
"He has your hair, eyes and smile". You reply, your smile growing bigger. "I know we're biased but he really is the most beautiful baby I've ever seen".
Poe takes his son into his arms again, as he gently rocks him he looks deeply into your eyes and says,
"I see some of his beautiful mother too".
After a month you are healed enough to be intimate with him for the first time in what feels like years.
The two of you are worked up and craving each other, badly. Finn and Rose volunteered to watch the baby so you can have some much needed alone time.
"This feels, strange".
"Ugh I know."
You and Poe are enjoying your first night out since becoming parents. The two of you are trying to enjoy yourselves at the cantina, just like old times.
But things don't feel like old times. Instead of having fun you find yourselves fretting over Maxim.
Your baby is absolutely thriving development and health wise. He's happy, healthy and reaching all of his milestones right on time and then some.
Poe leans over and kisses you passionately, he looks deeply into your eyes and whispers,
"I'm craving your body so badly, I don't want to make love to you tonight I want to fuck you like an animal".
Without finishing your drinks you immediately leave.
Poe takes you to the millennium Falcon. You nudge him and with a laugh say,
"Won't you get in trouble?"
"Nah, even if we get caught noone's going to say anything". Poe reassures, laughing a little.
He leads you into the crew's quarters and the two of you hungrily begin to rip each other's clothing off.
You get on your knees and take his erect cock into your mouth, Poe gently takes your long hair into his hands and moans in delight.
He picks you up in his strong arms and gingerly places you on the bunk. His head immediately goes between your legs and he draws your erect clit into his mouth and begins to suck on it like a tiny penis as he softly caresses your wet hole, which is tingling with pleasure.
"Does that feel okay, babe?" Poe asks, making sure his touch is extra gentle. "I don't want to hurt you".
His touch is causing anything but pain. Pleasure is all that you can feel.
But you appreciate how much he cares and his concern for you.
Poe leans over you and kisses you. You can taste and smell yourself on him and it's driving you absolutely mad with desire.
He lifts your legs over his shoulders and drives himself into you. You forgot how wonderful his cock feels inside of you. He grips your hips as you beg him to go deeper.
He leans forward, kisses you passionately and moans,
"I love you".
When he cums he's nuzzling your neck and showering it with soft little kisses, you whimper in delight as you feel his cock heat up and spill its load deep inside you.
You're both panting hard from the strenuous activity.
Poe cuddles up next to you, wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him. The two of you fall asleep soon after.
Early the next morning you are awakened by a hologram from Finn and Rose. It's your chubby cheeked, curly haired baby boy sleeping like an angel.
"Did he fuss too much?" Poe asks Rose.
"He was a little sweetheart". Rose replies. "He slept a lot and didn't make any trouble at all".
"We'll be home shortly, and thank you for watching our little one for us". You reply, smiling.
Poe leans over and nuzzles your neck. With a sort of puppy dog, sad look in his eyes he asks,
"Will you marry me?"
"Of course". You reply, your eyes misting over with tears. "I'd be honored to spend the rest of my life with you. And eventually make some more beautiful, curly haired babies".
The end
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Hiya. The movie Inside Llewyn Davis is one of my favorite movies of all time. Oscar Isaac was brilliant in it, the movie definitely had it's funny and really dark moments.
You are a young waitress and folk music aficionado working at The Gaslight Cafe in Greenwich village.
You see Llewyn Davis in there frequently and have become one of his biggest fans.
You genuinely admire him for his talent first, but the fact that he happens to be nice looking is a bonus.
You offer him your couch to crash on for a few days.
That's when things begin to heat up a little between you, and you begin to wish that Llewyn was in your bed instead.
Will you get your desire fulfilled?
Warnings, the usual from me. Lol. Not for anyone under 18, light drug use, unprotected sex.
Crash
It's another busy weekend for you. You are a waitress at The Gaslight Cafe, a hotspot for folk musicians in the 1960's to showcase their talents.
Llewyn Davis is performing tonight, and as usual his smooth voice makes it difficult for you to concentrate on your job and you are making a few mistakes.
Your coworkers tease you about this, a lot, you brush it off and attempt to wait tables.
Almost like it was fate you are wrapping up your shift that evening when you happen to bump into Llewyn at the back of the busy Cafe.
You eavesdrop on his rather tense conversation and from what you gather he needs a place to crash for a few days.
"I have a nice little studio apartment not far from here". You volunteer, smiling a little. "You are welcome to my couch for as long as you need it".
"Do I know you?" Llewyn replies with a slight laugh.
"No, not at all, my name is y/n and I'm a huge fan, I listen to you every week". You reply, your face feeling a little flush.
"Sit down next to me, y/n". Llewyn tells you with a sweet smile, his dark eyes lighting up. "I need to know more about you".
The two of you talk for what feels like hours. He learns that you are 22, a political science student at NYU from somewhere in the Midwest. Your childhood was safe, mundane and sheltered. This is your first time being on your own and at times being so far away from home feels lonely.
You leave the Cafe together and walk the few short blocks to your tiny but brightly decorated and clean 1 bedroom brownstone apartment.
"You're welcome to anything you want in the fridge". You explain with a cheery smile as you hand him an extra blanket and pillow. "The bathroom is down that hall, and I'm a deep sleeper so you don't have to worry about waking me up".
"You are an absolute saint". Llewyn tells you, smiling faintly. "How can I ever repay you?"
"Don't worry about it". You reply, smiling a little. "Consider it a gift from a fan".
As usual you fall asleep quickly. The next morning you are awakened by the sound of a guitar strumming and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You throw a robe on and head into the living room.
You stand in the doorway and silently admire him from afar. Even in rumpled clothing Llewyn is simply a feast for the eyes. His deep brown eyes and wild curly hair just kind of draw you in.
The sight of him calmly strumming his guitar is arousing to you in a simple way.
"Good morning, I hope you slept well". You greet him with a slight smile.
"No complaints here". Llewyn replies with a slight laugh. "You have the most comfortable couch in the village".
You have another delightful conversation over a bowl of cereal. You can't help but feel like there's some chemistry between the two of you.
Over the next couple days you settle into a happy little routine with your houseguest. You hate to see him leave so soon.
You share your hopes and your fears with him, he is comfortable enough to share happy and deeply sad things with you.
It's wonderful to wake up to the smell of coffee and the sounds of Llewyn playing his guitar.
He has become a close friend. But you can still feel that chemistry and ache for it to be more.
Truthfully you want and desire him unlike any other man before.
You've had boyfriends from time to time since your arrival in the city but no true, meaningful relationships.
You are a modern woman of the 1960's, a bohemian, a beatnik.
It's been months since another human being has touched you, the desire building in your body felt like a painful ache.
The night before Llewyn is scheduled to leave the two of you spend it relaxing in your living room, listening to Woody Guthrie records and smoking pot.
You had scored from one of your classmates and were passing the pipe around and enjoying the music.
You were sitting next to him on the floor, stoned to the bone like he was.
You are relaxed and rest your head on his shoulder, with a deep sigh you confess quietly,
"I don't want you to leave".
"You're baked". Llewyn tells you with a laugh. "Noone wants me around for more than a few days, especially women".
Llewyn looks deeply into your eyes, his own lovely chocolate brown eyes look pained, haunted even.
They are also red from the excellent weed that you've been enjoying all night.
Without another word exchanged you share your first kiss together, a passionate, electric one.
"This feels right". Llewyn blurts out, closing his eyes and biting his lip a little. "You're so perfect".
His hand stealthily moves under your sweater and underneath your bra, he's playing with your breasts and you beg him not to stop.
You can feel yourself becoming physically aroused by his touch, the longer he continues the more you crave him inside of you.
The two of you end up in your bedroom, with a laugh he tumbles onto your soft bed and remarks,
"This sure beats the couch".
Llewyn helps you out of your clothing and you help him out of his, his thick, hard cock is ready for you.
His hands are all over your body, feeling, exploring, thoroughly enjoying every inch of your soft curves.
You are breathless from all the kissing and caressing, you've never been touched like this before.
Llewyn's hand travels between your legs, he gives your throbbing clit a gentle, teasing flick before he sinks two fingers into your tight hole.
You moan in delight and cum hard for him, without thinking, you aren't on the pill yet and he doesn't have a condom, he softly pushes himself deep inside you as you wrap your legs around his waist.
"Fuck, you're so warm, so wet, so tight". Llewyn moans, his eyes closing from delight.
You bury your head into his shoulder as he thrusts tenderly, gently into you, enjoying your warmth and tightness, and doing his best to prolong his own orgasm.
You run your fingers through his thick curly hair and breathe in his salty scent, the sex is passionate and primal.
When he does cum it's a big one, you can feel his seed shoot deep inside of you, the sheets are soaked in a mixture of your juices.
Exhausted you fall asleep in his arms. The next morning when you awaken you can still feel some of Llewyn trickling down your thighs.
You put on a robe and head out into the living room, Llewyn is sitting on your couch, his hair still messy from the night before and wearing only his underwear.
You sit down next to him, he looks at you, smiles a little and quips ironically,
"I hope you're not pregnant".
"What would make you think that?" You reply, laughing nervously.
"I've gotten two other women pregnant". He confesses, his smile fading. "I'm scared that you might be the 3rd".
"I could just get it taken care of". You reply matter of factly. "No big deal, I know where to go."
"But what if I don't want you to?" Llewyn replies, a look of complete sadness taking over his gorgeous face. "What if I don't want to leave?"
His words shocked you, and then you realize that over the past few days you have bonded with Llewyn unlike anyone else before him.
There seemed to be a deep connection, almost like one of the soul.
He's vulnerable to you, and to be honest you have no idea what to say next.
"You can stay as long as you want". You tell him, smiling a little. "But no more sleeping on the couch, I want you in my bed every night".
The end
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