#which is pretty typical for immediately after coming out of art block

[ozwuv]

I love your art! So, I was wondering if you have any drawing tips you could give?

Hiii thank you so much for the kind words, I am really glad you like it!!! :’3

As far as tips, this is kind of a broad question that I think it varies widely in terms of how you want your art to look. Personally, my main priorities are fluidity and character interaction, so that’s what I focus on even though it means I don’t really draw elaborate backgrounds and such. I’m sure I could become better at other things if I tried, but I’m not a professional nor am I trying to be, so I just focus on what’s fun to me.

Putting the rest of this under a cut bc it's gonna be long

As for actual advice, I have three big rules which I think have helped me continue to enjoy drawing as long as I have, which is the most important thing to me. I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil, and it's been my main outlet for good and bad times throughout my whole life (I am 26 now). Other people liking what I draw is a treat, but as long as I have fun, that’s ultimately what matters to me. That said, please keep in mind I am speaking solely for myself here since everyone draws for different reasons and in different ways.

The first thing is avoiding perfectionism at all costs when drawing, because it sucks the fun out of the process and ruins the visual fluidity in whatever I’m working on. An example of this is that I don’t like to go back and revise lines I’ve already placed, because the more I try to polish them, the stiffer they look. Even in digital art I try to roll with mistakes instead of erasing, or just completely undo the line I placed and try again. 

The other thing is something I actually picked up from dog training which is arguably my biggest passion in life. There’s a common saying amongst dog trainers: No “one more time” — which essentially means that when find yourself thinking “one more time,” you need switch gears immediately and do something else because you have hit your frustration threshold and every attempt from then on will be frustrating & counterproductive for both you and the dog. 

This applies to pretty much every aspect of life for me, but it made a huuuge difference when I started to consider it within the context of drawing. If I just stop whatever I’m frustrated with and go back to it later, 99% of the time I can pinpoint exactly what bothered me and how I could have fixed it. I’m typically not the type to work on something over various sittings, so even if I don’t finish the picture I was working on after coming back to it, being able to pinpoint what went wrong about it is a lesson I can apply to whatever I work on next.

The third rule ties into the last one, which is just not pushing myself. If I’m not having fun with a drawing anymore, I’m not going to force it. If it’s not coming out the way I want it to, I’m not gonna push it. Any time I've pushed through frustration to finish something, I wound up disliking how it came out. This isn’t really realistic for someone who is a professional (or aiming to be), but for me who just likes drawing anime characters for fun, it’s perfect. Because of this, I haven’t dealt with constant art blocks like I used to. I definitely still have them, but they're usually brief and not distressing to me. I feel like I’ve kind of stagnated the past several years, but at the end of the day I have a blast when I draw and that’s all that matters to me!

There's a common sentiment that everybody hates/is embarrassed of the things they drew in the past or even right after finishing and/or posting them. But it doesn't have to be like that, and imo it shouldn't. I think that just means there are some things about one's process and mindset that need to be reflected on.

Hopefully that helps somewhat, but YMMV if your priorities are more in the vein of constant improvement and/or being a professional :] I know this was kind of an abstract response, so if anyone has specific questions feel free to ask lol

#yip yap

[randomscropio]

Migraines

This is an Inanimate Insanity fanfic one-shot. This was not a request, I just had an idea to do a fic like this late at night and couldn't stop thinking about it. The fic is based on the migraines my mom has and my younger brother ("brother a") sometimes has. I also sometimes get headaches, so I am self-projecting onto Paintbrush (just a little bit, tho).

Warnings: Migraines and headaches (that's literally what the fic is based around), pain, nausea, hiding pain, time blindness, art block, misgendering (by accident), panic attacks (mentioned), anxiety, medication, guilt (but it isn't put into the character by another character. The character with guilt just feels guilty), Lightbrush (Lightbulb x Paintbrush), Painbrush (Paintbrush experiencing pain/Paintbrush angst)

Paintbrush woke up, opened their eyes, and stood up. Their vision tunneled, and they could barely stand without wobbling. There was also a tight pain around their head, like a tight wrap around it. Their vision went back to normal, and the tight pain faded after a moment. This experience was normal for them. It typically happened when they stood up. Well, at least this time, it wasn't a migraine because that would be bad.

...

They didn't know how much time had passed since they had that headache at the beginning of the day (because they were time blind), but their head was hurting again. And they felt nauseous. What was worse was that they were hosting an art class.

Great, just great, I'm having a freaking migraine! At the perfect time! They thought sarcastically.

The thing about Paintbrush is that when they got a migraine they would typically also get really bad art block, they hate this fact because they like to paint and draw a lot, and their migraines came at random and were frequent.

"Wow, Paintbrush, your canvas sure is blank! And you're not talking. Shouldn't you be demonstrating what we're supposed to do?" Suitcase asked.

"Oh, right, sorry! I just got a bit distracted."

"By what?" Testube asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Thoughts," Paintbrush said, deadpan.

"Oh, okay then! So what are we doing, Mrs. Pa- sorry, Mx. Paintbrush?"

Paintbrush expected to be accidentally misgendered and didn't mind it. They had just recently come out, after all.

The pain in their head got worse and worse. That's when they noticed that they forgot to get the other painting supplies. "First, I have to go grab some stuff! I'll be right back." They said, grabbing their medicine and walking to the storage room.

They took some pills before the paint fumes made everything worse. They grabbed some thick tubes of acrylic paint. They also grabbed some paintbrushes (both big and small), painting sponges, paper plates (they used the plates as paint pallets so that they didn't have to wash any paint pallets), and a bottle of modpog (which is used to make sure that paintings and paint coats don't get damaged). They walked out of the room and set everything down on their desk.

They gave everyone a paper plate, a few different-sized paintbrushes, and a couple of panting sponges.

"Alright, class! Today we're going to do some abstract art. Get the paint that you'll need and just paint different colored shapes, don't think about or plan it. It's like improv in acting except for painting, drawing..." Paintbrush paused, realizing how long they had been speaking, "you get my point, right?"

"Yeah, I think we all got it, Painty! You're pretty good at explaining anyway!" Lightbulb said in her cheerful tone, which she usually had at least a hint of.

Everyone got their paints and started to paint. Paintbrush supervised everyone, making sure that everyone was okay. One hand foot rose into the air, shakily, and fell back down after two seconds. Paintbrush immediately knew who it was. Paintbrush approached a fidgety Suitcase.

"Do you need anything?" Paintbrush asked softly, they knew what the answer was but wanted Suitcase to get in the habit of saying what her problems were.

"I um, have to leave. I didn't take my anxiety meds and well..."

"Yes, I'm fine. Go take your medicine. I don't need you to have another panic attack here, especially only after a few days from the last one." They said with a slight chuckle that they immediately regretted.

"You can go." They said. The pain in their head made them slightly wince.

"A-are you okay?"

Suitcase didn't seem to mind though, since a small laugh came from her. She hopped down and walked out of the classroom.

...

Paintbrush looked at the finished and signed pieces. They were all amazing, despite what some of the artists thought of their own work.

"Great job everyone! It looks like you all have the hang of it! You may go now." They dismissed the class, hoping no one would stay so that they could dim the way too bright, fluorescent lights that only worsened the pain in their head, and put their head on their desk.

But, of course, someone stayed. Oddly enough, that someone was Suitcase.

"Hey, um Paintbrush?" Her voice was soft and quiet like she knew how much pain they were in, "um. Are you actually okay?"

Paintbrush nodded, "I'm fine, Suitcase! Really! Just a little tired." They said, trying not to cry from the pain in their head.

Please leave already.

"Oh, um, okay, then. That's all. I'll go now." She said.

Paintbrush sighed as soon as she left, cleaned up the materials, and grabbed the pieces to hang them up. They felt lightheaded, oh no, not this again.

They lay on the ground, squeezing their eyes shut, until they didn't feel lightheaded anymore. They got up and quickly hung up the pieces, then dimmed the lights. The pain continued and a few tears slipped from Paintbrush's eyes. They sat on the ground, pulled their knees up to their chest, buried their head in their knees, and softly cried. They didn't care if someone came in, at this point they couldn't control it, and they couldn't stop crying, even if they wanted to.

...

They got up and went to their room, their eyes were bloodshot and they were exhausted, they opened the door to their and Lightbulb's room (Lightbulb and Paintbrush now shared a room with eachother) and flopped on their bed.

"Hey, Painty, you okay?"

Paintbrush groaned in response.

"I'll take that as a no. What's botherin' you?"

They looked at the Lightbulb and sighed. "Migraine." They explained in one word.

"Did you take your meds?"

"Yes, I took my medicine. It didn't help very much."

Lightbulb clicked her tongue, "I'm sorry, I know that the lights can make it worse."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Paintbrush said, unlike me...

"Well, why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I knew I'd get through it."

"Well, I'm here for you!"

"Thanks."

#lightbrush #painbrush #paintbrush ii #suitcase ii #lightbulb ii #self-projecting #inanimate insanity #paintbrush gets a migrane and forces themself to suffer #paintbrush is my favorite and comfort character #which is why i self project onto them and write/draw angst with them

[redbootsindoriath]

Yoo, I'm a bit late but beware the Ides of March! Hopefully no one got stabbed---

Thanks, nobody in my life was stabbed on that day.  I hope everybody else can say the same.  Also happy St Pat's, while we're on the topic of holidays I almost forgot about this year.

Here's a cheetah because that's pretty much all that I drew today.  It has nothing to do with any holiday right now but it’ll have to do.

#the world isn't in your books and maps #my trash #yo somebody talked to me #/end classification tags #okay so i said i was over art block which was MOSTLY true because i have had inspiration and etc occasionally #but not ENTIRELY true because i've not drawn every day and i'm frustrated with how slow and clumsy i am #which is pretty typical for immediately after coming out of art block

[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Ch 6

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: Connor gets his new assignment. He's not thrilled.

AO3

Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet​

Chapter 5 art by @semains​ (18+ only)

November 6th, 2038

Saturday 09:56AM

There was a time when Connor didn’t have to come in on Saturdays. He remembered the days when mandatory overtime was few and far between.

Not anymore. 2038 seemed to be the year shit just kept happening, and now that he thought about it, quite a few of it seemed to be because of androids. Ones gone missing. Disobeying orders. And now, homicidal.

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose after putting his car into park, regretting how enthusiastically he’d hit the bottle last night. It wasn’t too bad this time, just an annoying throbbing behind his eyes, but it made it more difficult to see and he’d had to squint through his windshield.

Whatever. The reason for his shame-drinking was no longer relevant. Connor just had to survive until lunchtime, and if he were lucky, Hank would let him go early. He tried not to itch at the butterfly bandages on his cheek, applied himself after he’d woken up in a haze with blood on his pillow having completely forgotten the injury existed.

Connor kept his head down as he walked through the lobby of the station and through the security checkpoint to the bullpen proper. He tried not to be completely antisocial, however, and sent weak smiles at the coworkers who bothered to notice he was there.

Helen, Alexander, and Rupert all acknowledged him with various degrees of warmth, some colder than others, and all pretty much deserved. Ralph gave Connor a nervous smile from his chair, though it quickly faded as his eyes flickered to something across the room.

Frowning, he followed Ralph’s eye line across the bullpen and scowled when he spotted Colin leaning casually against Connor’s desk, talking to… someone. He couldn’t see who, Colin’s figure blocking them from view.

Against his better judgement, Connor drew closer, pressure building at the back of his neck, an uneasy feeling of dread that increased with each step.

“Con’s just gonna love this. But seriously, if he bitches about it too much, or gives you a hard time, you can always partner up with me. I won’t mind one bit, promise.”

Connor would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s typical cocksure demeanor, but instead, he went stock still at the familiar voice that answered.

“While the offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, my instructions stipulate that I must assist Detective Anderson with his new, specialized caseload. I’m sure you can understand that CyberLife only wishes to cooperate with the DPD and does not want to interfere with police procedure—“

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The YN800 model blinked and turned its head to meet Connor’s eye, its little blue light blinking for a moment before solidifying again.

It was sitting in Connor’s chair.

“It’s good to see you again, Detective,” it answered, chipper as ever as a fake smile graced its features.

Connor looked the prototype over, his nose crinkling at its appearance. The suit must have been brand new, there were no stains or bullet holes, and her—its hair was once again pinned upwards into a perfect knot.

He felt his insides churn at the near slip, at thinking for even a split second that this thing was a person. Shoving down the crude thoughts of the night before, Connor gave the order through gritted teeth.

“Get. Up.”

The prototype did as it was told, for once. It rose out of his chair, not even having the decency to look chagrined as it straightened its jacket of nonexistent wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I tried to call your phone and left you a message. It was not my intention to surprise you—“

“Oh, no, it’s never your intention to do anything, is it?” Connor snarled back. His headache was in full force now, and he swore he could see the bright lights of the station brighten in time with his heartbeat.

“Aw, c’mon!” Colin slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice to the temp.”

“Temp?” Connor answered, voice pulled as taut as a wire.

“Yeah, you know. The temporary assistant. The new girl. The—“

He shoved Colin’s hand off his shoulder, leveling a glare at both of them. Colin merely shot him a shit-eating grin while the YN800 stood there, hands clasped behind its back at parade rest, polite and perfect as ever.

“Connor!”

All three of them turned toward the voice booming across the room.

“Get in here!”

Connor glared at the android, as if Hank’s shouting were its fault, which was probably the case.

He turned without a word and stalked to the captain’s office, shoulders hunched as his heart raced and his hands shook at his sides. He let the glass door fall shut behind him, but when he didn’t hear the whoosh of it close, he glanced over his shoulder to see the YN800 had followed him inside.

Great.

Connor stood in front of the desk with his arms crossed.

Hank sat down in his chair, pointedly looking at the chairs in front of his desk. Connor remained standing.

The older man glared, answering Connor’s attitude with a look and a heavy sigh.

“Bet you’re wondering what that’s about.” Hank jerked his chin over Connor’s shoulder. The prototype had taken a spot at the back of the office, observing politely with its hands clasped in front of its hips.

“Yeah, I am.” Connor was a little too cranky this morning to try a more diplomatic approach. “What the hell is it doing here?”

“I’ll get to that. First on the docket, I got a shit ton of android-related cases filling up our database every day and I’m at wit’s end.” Hank took a deep breath, bracing himself as he met Connor’s eye. “Which is why I’m assigning all of these cases to you.”

“You’re what?”

Connor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You think that case last night was a one-off? We’ve got more android-related crimes rolling in, including assaults and homicides just as bad as the Ortiz case, and right now, you’re the one with the most experience.” Hank leaned his elbows on his desk as he leveled a formidable glare his way. “Is that going to be a problem, Connor?”

 “Yeah, it is a problem, Hank! Why the hell do I have to do this? What about Colin? He was with me at the crime scene and was there for the interrogation!” Connor shoved a finger at the glass wall to prove his point.

Hank’s jaw tightened. Connor had seen that behavior enough times to recognize how he was pushing his luck.

“CyberLife asked for you specifically.”

“What?” Connor blinked, dumbfounded once again, racking his brain but coming up empty. “Why?”

“The hell if I know!” Hank barked back, rising to his feet as he pointed a finger at Connor, “and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Colin’s got enough on his plate—“

“—and I don’t?” Connor interrupted, scowling. Hank sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Connor almost felt guilty for his outburst.

Almost.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you implied.” He tried not to sound like a hurt child, but, well, that’s exactly what he sounded like.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! There are more people that are gonna start dying from this!”

“Yeah, I know, but—“

Hank lifted his hand, palm forward, effectively shutting Connor up.

“You saw what one of those deviants was capable of last night, and that was with three of you and another android trying to get it under control! You think the average person stands a chance against one of these fucks? That a little ol’ grandma can defend herself against the murderous robot gardener coming at her with a pair of shears? What the hell happens when a nanny bot decides to take a human kid for itself? Oh, wait, that’s already happened, and you would know that if you checked the goddamn case files I sent you!”

Connor was silent as Hank deflated. The older man leaned back against his desk as he looked through his glass wall out over the bullpen. His voice was rough but much quieter for the next round.

“We’re totally in the dark, Connor. We don’t know how bad this is gonna get and how many androids we’re dealing with. This has the potential to turn into a fucking nightmare with Detroit as ground zero.” Hank’s gaze drifted over Connor’s shoulder to the elephant, or the machine, in the room. “CyberLife was gracious enough to send us a state-of-the-art prototype until this issue is contained. It’s gonna be your partner until such a time that these androids are no longer a threat, and then you’re free to go back to being a misanthropic son-of-a-bitch as much as you like.”

Connor was thoroughly shamed by the end of Hank’s speech, that old familiar feeling of disappointment making his gut roil with nausea, but his anger hadn’t entirely flagged. He clenched his hands tightly to his thighs, fingers desperate for either his coin or his cigarettes.

Connor hadn’t felt the need for one in months. This was bad.

“Hank,” he tried again, his voice soft and pleading in that way he knew Hank couldn’t ignore. “I’m not saying this just to be a pain in your ass. I understand the stakes, but I genuinely believe I’m not qualified for these types of cases. I’m not a CyberLife technician, or an AI specialist, or a computer engineer. I’ve never even owned an android.”

That last one was technically true but only in the barest sense, and Hank gave him a knowing look. It wasn’t without sympathy, and his own answer was given with more kindness than he probably deserved.

“I know, Connor. I also know you’re the sharpest pair of eyes on the force, not to mention the quickest brain and the best instinct. You see shit other people don’t, even Colin, and you’ve got this creepy knack for taking one look at a person and knowing what makes ‘em tick. I’d say you’re almost like an android yourself, but I know how much that’d piss you off.”

Connor gave him another narrow-eyed scowl, and Hank immediately put up his hands as a sign of surrender even as a smirk played on his lips.

“My point is, I need you on this, son. I know it’s not ideal, hell, it downright sucks, but I know you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

And there it was. As effective as Connor’s pleading expressions could be, they were nothing in comparison to his need for Hank’s praise. The old geezer knew it, too.

And throwing a “son” into the mix was a goddamn dirty move, but Connor couldn’t even muster up annoyance. He just sighed, gave Hank the smallest hint of a smile, and said, “All right. But only until these cases are solved. Once the deviancy issue is addressed, the prototype is going back to CyberLife and you never give me an android case again.”

“I’ll pay for the postage to ship it back myself,” Hank said, smile wide and pleased as he patted Connor on the shoulder before returning to his desk. “And I want daily reports on the progress you and your new partner are making. Gotta make sure CyberLife’s best is pulling its weight.”

“I can assure you, Captain Anderson, I am worth every penny. And considering it took a small fortune to build me, I—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank interrupted the prototype, using that catchphrase that Connor and all of his brothers had picked up years ago. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

The android blinked almost comically before giving a slow nod. It then turned to face Connor, straightening its back at attention, and he rolled his eyes. He was still being handed the shit end of the stick, but he couldn’t deny that the cases were piling up and Hank really did need the extra help.

But why, out of all the androids in the world, did it have to be one like that.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Connor turned and left Hank’s office, not waiting to see if the android would follow, knowing with a sinking feeling, it would.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #inside your wires #my fanfiction #my writing

[ladykissingfish]

Driving with the Akatsuki

Itachi

Driving with this guy is ... nerve-wracking, to say the very least. It’s not as though he’s a reckless automobile operator; he observes all the laws of traffic, the radio is at a reasonable volume ((he’s the type to listen to podcasts rather than music)), he follows the speed limits, he actually slows down at a yellow light — but it’s the near-misses that are daunting. The just barely stopping in time before hitting the old lady crossing the street. The running up on the curb while parking. And then there was that incident with the tree — Itachi legally has to wear glasses when driving, but his passengers often wonder whether the glasses actually HELP him. Even with them on, he squints A LOT. And only someone with nerves of absolute steel, like Kisame or Kakuzu, will be in a car with him at night. However he is with driving, one thing he’s not blind in, is his car’s cleanliness. Will make passengers wipe feet before getting in, and after everyone is gone he’ll carefully scour the seats to remove even the faintest trace of lint or gum wrappers or any disturbance at all. Can be a bit of a “mom” driver; a holdover from his teenage years of constantly having to chauffeur around his younger brother and his brother’s rambunctious friends.

Kakuzu

Anyone getting into a vehicle with Kakuzu is in for a surprise. 91 years old? Surely he drives slow and steady, like a typical little old man, right? WRONG. Kakuzu is a goddamn speed-demon. He barrels down streets, he flies through intersections. Not many know this about him, but he was very much into drag-racing as a (much) young(er) man, and his current proclivity for quickness is a holdover from those days. Luck always seems to be on his side, as he’s gotten caught/received speeding tickets far less than he deserves. To make matters scarier, Kakuzu’s radio system has been broken for two years (and of course he’s too cheap to get it fixed), and the back left window doesn’t roll up to the top; so the only sound his passengers will hear is the wind rushing past the glass and Kakuzu’s deep, sinister chuckles as he sees other drivers (and pedestrians) scramble to get out of his way. Also, unless you’re a CLOSE-close friend, don’t expect a ride from him unless you have gas money.

Deidara

In all honesty, the blonde prefers to be the passenger rather than the driver, even in his own car. He gets his best inspirations for future art pieces when he’s traveling around, and it’s hard to pick up a sketch book when you need to be paying attention to the road. When he does have to be behind the wheel himself, he’s a fairly average driver. His passengers are always at risk of a case of auditory whiplash, as Deidara’s (loudly played) music tastes switch from one extreme to the other; and the guy isn’t exactly shy about singing along to his favorites. He’s also one of those eat-on-the-go guys, and his backseat will almost always be buried under a myriad of candy wrappers, empty plastic soda bottles and discarded burger wrappers. In the summer he prefers the wild and free feeling of having all the windows down, rather than turning the AC on, and he’ll have to remember to firmly tie up his long hair and keep it from blowing in his eyes or else everyone in the car will be taking an unscheduled trip into the nearest tree.

Zetsu

His car always has that calm, natural, “special plant” scent to it. The kind of smell that causes a panic when Zetsu sees a police officer anywhere in the area. A very relaxed driver; seat almost all the way back, one hand barely on the steering wheel. Obeys the speed limit but can put the pedal to the metal when in a hurry. Likes to listen to mostly reggae or jazz, and taps his fingers on he dashboard along to the beat. Water-bottle hoarder; has at least 1000 plastic water bottles, in varying staging of fullness, all over the front and back seats. The type to keep driving around the block until the song ends. Also the type to have really deep conversations with his passengers, and drive them out to really far away and scenic locations.

Hidan

If you have somewhere important to go, and need a ride, it’s best not to ask Hidan. He is the sort who always insists he knows a shortcut or a quicker route to every destination ... and ends up hopelessly lost. Can’t read a map to save his life and for some reason won’t trust a car’s gps system to guide him ((has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories about the voice behind the system)). Easily distracted by any and everything (both inside and outside of car), which makes being his passenger a bit daunting. Like Kakuzu, is a very fast driver, but infinitely more cautious as he has a LOT of tickets wracked up and isn’t looking to add more.

Really loves Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash; has a visor full of those CD’s and will play those rather than listen to the radio. Also has a butt-load of swear word laden and inappropriate humor bumper stickers.

Pein

Who needs a car when motorcycles exist? This guy has a classic hog that he keeps in mint condition, that he rides around wherever he goes. Every year he’ll try and convince his close friends to ditch their boring cars for something more sublime, only to be met sure emphatic No’s each time. Is very protective over his baby and will go ballistic over even the tiniest nick or scrape. Drives at a normal speed when by himself, but will drive just a bit faster when carting around a friend (especially if it’s a female friend). Doesn’t really like to wear a helmet himself but will insist on any passengers putting one on. Prefers the quiet of the open road but if in a musical mood it’s always 80’s hair bands; a lot of Def Leppard, Quiet Riot, Van Halen. Can do a variety of tricks on his bike but doesn’t do them often as he doesn’t like to “mess up” his baby any more than necessary.

Sasori

Absolutely 100% HATES driving. Has massive anxiety anytime he has to get behind the wheel, almost to the point where he’d need to take a sedative just to relax. Drives slower than the slowest driver you can think of. Yellow light? Slow down. Green light? Still slow down. Will drive himself to and from work, but any other time would prefer being a passenger in someone else’s car ((in which case he becomes the worst backseat driver in history)), or simply taking the bus. Doesn’t like giving rides to others but if he must, it’ll be a very tense, silent drive (forget about him turning on the radio and ‘breaking his concentration’), and he’ll freak out if a passenger takes their seatbelt off before the car comes to a complete stop. Also has a hyper-awareness to anything that might possibly be wrong with his car; if that check engine light comes on you can bet he’ll be at the mechanic in a heartbeat. Also the type who feels “uncomfortable” if gas tank is below 3/4 full.

Konan

The type who’s always heading somewhere/running errands, and will ask if you need a ride. Very neat and organized car, and always suspiciously shiny (as if she visits the carwash every other day). Seems to know absolutely everybody; is always waving at or honking to people in other cars. Keeps the radio volume down when she has passengers, but when alone she loves to sing at the top of her lungs to 90’s boy bands (her rendition of I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys is American-Idol worthy). Is always prepared for anything, especially in the winter; in her trunk is a shovel, an extra blanket, water bottles and protein bars, even emergency flares. May be pretty and delicate but definitely knows her way around a car; can change a tire or check the oil with the best of them.

Kisame

Has very long legs, so needs a car or truck that provides him ample room to stretch. A very relaxed and mellow driver, always puts whoever’s with him immediately at ease. Doesn’t use air fresheners in his car but inside always smells like whatever his cologne is, which is always yummy. Gets a lot of fast-food but always keeps the bags and wrappers stored neatly in a little garbage bag that he empties out daily. Will let his passengers do pretty much anything in his car EXCEPT smoke; he can’t stand the smell of tobacco. Isn’t really a Point A to Point B driver; will always think of other places to stop or visit en-route to his destination. Big fan of Musical music; his all-time favorite cd is the soundtrack to Grease. Also (when by himself) is a car-emoter; Kisame doesn’t let most people see anything but his cheerful side. Bring alone in his car is the only time he’ll cry, or scream, or express anger regarding events or people.

Obito

The type of driver who very often spaces out and “forgets” that he’s driving. Prefers traveling more with animals than with people; most likely to take his dog on a weeklong broad trip. Has been a smoker since his teenage years but is trying to quit, so in his car is the only place he “allows” himself a cigarette (but only when he’s completely alone). Almost started a fire once when he threw a still-lit cigarette out the window, but it flew into the backseat instead. Drives fairly slow unless he’s in a hurry for something (but even then his foot doesn’t press the gas pedal THAT much harder). His musical tastes depend on his mood but whatever he ends up listening to is always car-shakingly loud. Seems to have a new (and interesting) trinket hanging from his rear-view mirror every week. The kind who drives around for several days with his gas tank close to/touching on E because ”he knows his car, it’s fine”.

#the akatsuki #driving #vroom vroom #deidara #sasori #obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #zetsu #pein #konan #kakuzu #kisame #hidan

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 2

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Eventual smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - allusions to sex and MAJOR sexual tension hehe :)

Author’s note: Chapter 2 let’s go!! I hope everyone is enjoying so far! Remember if you wanted to be added to my taglist feel free to let me know!

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER TWO - NEXT 

You had been mesmerised just from entering Black Gold Cooperative— but actually stepping foot in Maxwell Lord's office was a whole different story. The entire building was decked out in Christmas decorations, pine trees and tinsel on every corner, but as you stepped foot in his larger-than-life office, there was not a single thing that highlighted festive spirit in sight. Nevertheless, you were in awe, immediately taking in the paintings, the pottery, the statues… it was like every little thing was embellished in gold. You hadn't even laid your eyes on Maxwell yet, but he was certainly looking at you.

You weren't exactly sure what you took a man like Maxwell Lord for. You considered him to be the tacky kind— but every piece of furniture in his office looked antique— like it came straight out of a museum. You admired the paintings on the walls. One thing's for sure, you didn't expect him to be a man who appreciated art culture. They were magnificent, and of all different shapes and sizes.

Maxwell Lord slouched back into his chair and watched you intently, his dark eyes following your every move. You were like no other girl who had come in for an interview, that's for sure. You were dressed in a thick, cream coloured winter coat and he noted the hat and gloves that were stuffed messily into your pocket. Your wet boots left a puddle of water where you had entered his office and he noted the little snowflakes balancing in your windswept, knotted hair.

He was surprised, to say the least. The past week he had been conducting interviews in-attempt to find someone suitable for the job role at hand. Dozens of young girls would confidently strut into his office— their high heels clicking against the expensive marble floor. They would try wooing him with a bat of eyelashes, which of course, Maxwell did not shame their attempts. Despite their unsuccess at acquiring the job, Maxwell did make sure they got a little something from him in return.

The businessman's eyes darted to the trash can under his desk as he looked at the discarded silk handkerchiefs he had just used to clean himself up after his last interview. Then, he re-acquainted his gaze to you, and picked up on the fact that you had yet to acknowledge his presence. You were too caught up in the furnishings of his office. You really were different.

"Ms Minerva?" Maxwell called you eventually, clearing his throat. Not recognising your newly claimed fake name, you didn't budge, but instead let your fingers trace the countries of a world map that hung on the wall. Pins had been stabbed into the capitals of most countries and you wondered what it meant. Perhaps it was all the countries he had visited— or more likely, all the companies that had shares in his black gold business. "Ms Minerva." Maxwell repeated, his voice more solid this time.

You felt your body freeze up, wondering how long he had been calling you for. Shit, you thought. You really believe you had messed up— just stumbling into his office and paying no attention to him whatsoever.

"Oh!" you gasped, spinning around on the heel of your foot, almost slipping on the water you had trailed in with you. Maxwell couldn't help but let the small smirk creep upon his lips at your clumsy but innocent nature. "Your office is… it's so…" 

"What you expected?" Maxwell prompted, leaning over the desk slightly trying to get a closer look at you.

Something about your demeanor drew him to you and he couldn't place his finger on what exactly it was. He wondered what your deal was. He wondered why you had decided to attend possibly the most prestigious interview of your life dressed the way you had. You hoped he didn't think you were deliberately ignoring him.

"No- I mean. I'm not sure what I expected, really," You admitted with a small shrug before approaching an oil painting. "This is magnificent," you said. "I've never seen such intricate work before."

The painting was huge— quite possibly the biggest one in the room. It was posed, of course, and you wondered how long the poor models had to stand there to be painted. They were positioned on a grand staircase with a purple carpet rolling up it. They looked stern- mean- not an emotion in sight.

"That's a family portrait," Maxwell informed you from his chair. "My family." 

Oh.

You digested the image of the couple with their young son. The child was no older than ten, you guessed, with dark blonde-browning hair and he was dressed in a shirt, shorts and bow tie. The couple stood behind him, and the pair consisted of a beautiful woman with red hair and pearl earrings wearing a fur coat and sleek silk dress.  "Your wife is gorgeous." You said, quietly, entranced by the family portrait.

Maxwell paused, his eyes not moving from you for a second. "That's my mother." he deadpanned.

You curled your fingers into a fist at your own shameless and idiotic comment. You could not forget how much you needed this job— you had to do better.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over you. "So that little boy is you, hm? Your hair is lighter nowadays," you smiled light-heartedly but Maxwell didn't share the warm sentiment. "You look just like your father." You admitted, eyes flicking between the suited man in the painting, and the suited man who was sitting at his desk behind you.

Both men were of an average height, with broad shoulders and the same, identical cunning smirk. Big brown eyes and swept but styled hair. You very little about the Lord family — to the general public, they were always an enigma. Tabloids would spread rumours and no one ever really knew the truth. You hoped you hadn't hit a nerve with the comparison, but as seconds went on, you cursed yourself for your inability to just keep your mouth shut.

Maxwell didn't reply to your comment, and the silence was deafening. For the first time, he looked away from you and into the light oak wood of his desk which he had inherited from his late father. He let a few sad thoughts ponder his mind as you continued to scower his office looking at all the high end decor, before taking a big huff of breath. It wasn't her fault, she couldn't know any better. Maxwell told himself, but it didn't hurt any less. 

Her words stung but he pushed them back as far as he could. Blocking out his emotions was something Maxwell had done his whole life and had become quite accustomed to. This was ridiculous. Maxwell wouldn't let himself get worked up over a brief comment about his father, by a girl wearing a last season winter coat who he had never met before. He stiffened up and cleared his throat.

"Ms Minerva, if you are going to just scope my office I'd be in my right mind to call security and have you thrown out." Maxwell sighed, tapping his fingers impatiently against the desk. Your head bolted towards him.

"Oh! I'm so so sorry." you pressed your hands in a pleading manner.

As Maxwell took in your form, his mind began to race. He could get used to looking at you like that. Pleading for him— on your knees— begging for just a taste of what he had to offer. The dirty thoughts consumed his mind and he shifted in his chair feeling a familiar fire in his lower stomach. Brushing past your pretty, doe-like eyes, he reached for a gold fountain pen and an expensive looking journal, opening it up.

"Why are you here?" Maxwell asked, dropping the pen, slouching back into his leather chair and kicking his feet up on his desk. You swallowed the hard lump that had appeared in your throat as you took in his posture.

"Uhm, well I- uh-" you struggled to find words. My god he was attractive. You hadn't paid much attention before, but now that he was sitting there right before your eyes, you felt a small warmth creep up between your legs.

He was just lounging right before you— his body spread out. He wasn't wearing the smart suit jacket as you had pictured, but instead, a crisp white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You could see the light hair on his arms glisten under the setting sun, and the yellow gold of his Rolex wristwatch sparkle as he played with the rings on his fingers.

Maxwell caught you staring at his hands. How could you not? Teasingly, he began rolling his jewelled rings up and down his long thick fingers. You found yourself biting your lower lip, pulling all your energy into suppressing a moan as you watched the way his fingers moved. You took in every detail, wanting to remember it forever— the light bronzed shade of his skin and the wrinkles over his knuckles. His nails were short but definitely well manicured. You let out the smallest gasp as you imagined how they would feel inside of you. You wondered how many of his fingers you could take and how they would stretch you open. You imagined his thumb rubbing circles into your clit as he finger fucked you and suddenly you felt your panties dampen. Your knees went weak.

He moved his large ring clad hands and folded them against his broad chest, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. You always wondered to what extent his magazine covers had been edited but he was just as handsome as he was on television, in real life. One thing you noticed was that his usual styled dark blonde hair was only slightly out of place, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. It was a change from his ordinary pristine appearance. Seeing that you were struggling to answer his question, Maxwell pointed his finger and gestured you closer to him. You walked towards him and stood still in front of him, only his desk between you both.

"Take it off." he mumbled, his gaze strong and steady on your body. You swore your mind was playing games on you as you engulfed his dark choice for words. You were absolutely ready to submit to him but deep down you knew that you were over-thinking.

"I- I'm sorry?" You croaked out.

His smirk grew and a small dimple appeared in his left cheek. "Your coat. Take it off." He commanded and you mouthed a small 'oh' before following his instructions and dropping your wet winter coat to the floor.  You cursed yourself. You were ready to completely undress yourself for this man you had never met before. Did he have this effect on everyone? "Turn around." he prompted you, twirling his finger in gesture. You slowly spun around a few times and Maxwell was struggling to contain himself.

You were delightful— wearing just a pair of washed out flared jeans and a geometric print t shirt. The jeans were very 70s, flaring out at the bottom, and Maxwell wondered how out of date your wardrobe was. He wondered if you'd let him take you out clothes shopping. Maxwell felt flushed as he took in how perfectly the denim sculpted your thighs and the round of your ass. He found your body exquisite. The t-shirt was thin, and he was surprised you had opted for such a fashion choice in the depth of winter. Despite the central heating being turned on, he couldn't help but notice the way your nipples poked through your shirt, hardened from the cold weather— or so he assumed they were hard from the cold weather. You felt his eyes bore into your chest and you crossed your arms over yourself, hoping he hadn't spotted your arousal. Maxwell felt his cock twitch at the sight of you and he fought the urge to bend you over and fuck you right then and there on his desk. You had an air of innocence to you, and he didn't want to ruin that. At least, not yet.

"Is everything okay sir?" Your voice was soft like honey and a small grunt escaped Maxwell's throat. He had just gotten off with his previous interviewee but you were simply something else.

"Perfect," he hummed wistfully. "Please, take a seat." You obeyed his order and slid down into the chair opposite to him. "Tell me, Ms Minerva. What urged you to lie about your identity?"

You felt your heart stop and your fingers gripped the arms of your chair. Shit, you thought to yourself. He had caught on. You gulped and tried to find a quick witted yet believable response to him but it you couldn't. Normally you were great at answering back but sitting before Maxwell Lord had you feeling some kind of way and you couldn't shake it.

"Tell me, who are you really?" He urged. You contemplated his words and decided there was no pointing in continuing your long winded lie. You were surprised you had made it this far without getting caught in the first place. He was still smirking, however, and it seemed like he didn't really care at all. Giving in, you told him your real name.

"Mr Lord, if I may ask, how did you know I wasn't Barbara Minerva?" you asked Maxwell.

"I can read minds." Maxwell said darkly, staring deep into your eyes.

Oh, his eyes. They had darkened significantly— once a chocolate brown but now they could easily be confused for black. Suddenly the extravagant decor around his office had become a mere back thought and you had been absolutely captured by his handsome looks. His skin was golden under the setting sun behind him and it accentuated the blonde highlights in his hair. His eyelashes were long and dark and his lips were the perfect shape. His nose was rather prominent and curved slightly and you imagined what it would be like pressed against your face as he kissed you. 

You wanted him to take you in his arms and glide his large hands all over your body, caressing you and touching you everywhere he could. Sliding his hand up your shirt and cupping your breast as he settled lazy sloppy kisses into your neck and collarbones. Realising you had been silent for perhaps a moment too long, you let out a loud laugh.

"Right," you chortled in disbelief. "Read minds. Very funny." you grinned and you even caught him stifle down a dry chuckle.

"I like you," Maxwell admitted and you felt your heart stop. "I think you'd be well suited working for me. Of course… we might have to sort out your wardrobe. I'd like to offer you a job."

He had barely asked you any questions and he already made his mind up. You couldn't believe your luck.

"Wait, really?" you asked, your eyes widening with delight.

Maxwell nodded slowly. "Did one of my secretaries have you sign an NDA on your way in here?" 

"Yes sir," you bit your lip anxiously. You had wondered what the non-disclosure agreement was for.

"So you know that if you repeat any of this to anyone else after our interview is over, I can and will sue you."

Not that you had any money anyway, his cold words still made you nervous. He was one of the most powerful men in the world. Friends with the president of the USA, he had relations with practically every country who bought his oil, and now, he was offering you a job.

"Yes sir." you repeated obediently, fluttering your eyelashes at him. The way that word rolled off your tongue— He felt his cock harden in his pants. You were just so damn pretty.

"I have to tell you then," Maxwell leaned forward on his desk, interlocking his fingers together. He was inches away from you, gazing into your eyes. "I'm not looking for an assistant." His voice was dark and menacing and a lustful glint appeared in his eyes.

"You- you're not?" You stammered, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. You wondered what job you had actually gone for.

"How familiar are you with sugar dating?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow, his eyes now glaring dark and sinister.

"Su-sugar dating?"

You weren't overly familiar, but sure, you had read your fair share of erotic novels that illustrated such prospect.

Maxwell stood up from his chair and walked around his desk before perching on top of it and looking down at you. "I'm looking for a certain kind of arrangement, per-se," Maxwell explained. "You give me what I want, and I give you what you want. Money, clothes, diamonds, jewellery, cars… whatever your heart desires. It's yours. Think about finally having everything you always wanted."

Your gaze met the floor as you contemplated his words. No, he couldn't be serious. He had the wrong girl. "Sir," your voice was a timid whisper. "I don't think I possess anything you could want." you told him sadly, insecurity bubbling inside you. He was the Maxwell Lord. Esteemed, knowledgeable, reputable, and he worked amongst the most beautiful and well dressed women you had ever seen. Yet, here you were, sitting before him, and he had chosen you.

Maxwell shook his head. "No." he said simply, extending his arm and curling his fingers around your chin, pointing it upwards so you were looking up at him. He wanted to trace your pretty lips with his fingers— spread them apart and feel the warmth as he let you taste him.

"No?" You beckoned, your heart trashing against your chest. His hands were so soft but his touch was rough and he steadied the hard grip around your face. If it were any other man, you would've pushed him off you, cursing him. But this wasn't just any man. 

"You have everything I want."

December Magic: @kiwi-the-first​ @100layersofdaddyissues​ @mrschiltoncat​ @honeymandos​ @thisisthe-way​ @this-cat-is-dea​ 

Permanent: @goth-topic​  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria​ 

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #max lord #max lord x reader #max lord smut #december magic #pedro pascal christmas

[monomonomagines]

DR2 Boys as Monsters with a Human S/o Part 2

Hello everyone, I’m sorry for my inactivity as of late. My bed broke recently so I’ve had to try to get a new one during Quarantine. However, I finally am able to get one and I come back bearing some good news! Mod Kokichi and I have been fleshing out our monster Au to the point that we have some extra content for the lore of the world and details with the characters and whatever we couldn’t fit into these imagines. Coincidentally, we do plan to also open an AO3 account in order to publish fully fleshed out content for the monsters and lore of the world we’ve made for them once we’re all set up. If anyone is interested in any art or lore that we have ready though, feel free to ask us and we’ll gladly share it with you. Speaking of, we have a place already to post art on our discord so you’re free to join us with this link if you’d like. https://discord.gg/M6TGwd

One more thing I’d like to add though is a warning for Nagito’s part in this. We couldn’t include much romance because of some lore we included with how his disease would work in this universe and with the limited space I couldn’t convey much development with him yet (where he isn’t quite as unhealthy or obsessive) so consider this just your first interaction with him. I promise though on AO3 or in further works he won’t be nearly as twisted as he might com across here. Besides that though, I hope that you all enjoy these. I had a lot of fun with them and will be getting back to other requests and matchups as soon as possible.

Part 2 (Part 1 here) (Part 3 here)

Gundham (Vampire)

By the time you got of work, it was late enough to see the last vestiges of the setting sun disappearing over the horizon, leaving behind nothing more than the chill of twilight.

However, there was nothing to do but to walk home as typical of you when it's still brighter.

As you passed by the familiar buildings, the park, and even a few side streets you began to only think of getting home and into your nice warm bed.

Perhaps it was those thoughts that caused you not to notice the man behind you but by the time he put a hand over your mouth and pulled you into an alley with him, you knew you had made a terrible mistake.

There were no words said as he pushed you up against a wall and buried his face into your neck, penetrating you with his fangs.

So that was it, he was a vampire. It'd be over soon you thought trying to reassure yourself as his inhuman strength overpowered you.

You tried with all your might to hold onto consciousness but alas it was too much. Maybe he was going to drink you dry after all, maybe this was the end for you?

When you awoke with a start those thoughts were still lingering in your mind. You felt so weak and this place, this definitely wasn't your room.

"Ah, you've awoken at last!" Announced that same vampire as he appeared by the side of the plush bed you were laid upon.

At least you assumed as you hadn't gotten to hear his voice. You didn't know what to say to him and at the very same time, plenty of accusations and questions flew from your mouth in his direction causing him to lose that gusto he seemed to have from a moment ago.

It appeared as though he hadn't considered for this to happen and unlike how he had last night he silenced you with his own statement.

"Silence, mortal! You should consider yourself lucky! It is not every day that you are a vampire as well known and feared as the legendary Gundham Tanaka's first victim!"

Proudly laughing he rambles on and on about his supposed grandeur before he finally settles down.

"Now what great power you are speaking to I shall inform you of what is to come as you had begged me earlier. You, mortals, tend to misconstrue what it is we full-blood vampires do with our first victim. We do not kill them, no rather we keep them by our side."

Oh brother. You knew for certain you did not want to stay with this guy and yet you still felt so weak. There was no way you could do much else than rely on him so you had to relent.

However, even though you started as an unwanted guess Gundham seemed to know how to take care of you, always making sure to be so careful.

He didn't seem like other vampires and as you began to talk to him you seemed to realize what had happened to you in actuality. Even if he hadn't realized it himself he slipped up by calling you his first victim.

He wasn't some long-lived legendary Vampire, he was a recently turned one that normally didn't drink from a human directly. You noticed with the way that he'd return with blood bags and never a scratch on him that he wasn't as evil as he seemed.

However, even when you questioned him he insisted on his obviously made up "Old Vampire Ritual" that you two were bound together and that he must take care of you as you two are now in a "symbiotic relationship".

A relationship in which he never actually drank from you instead mostly taking care of you because of that one time he could've killed you. Perhaps that's why you had fallen so hard for this creature of the night?

He was gentle and kind in his own right and every day that passed by ended up making you glad to be here. That's when you knew you had to tell him finally.

One night as he was bringing you dinner you had asked for him to stay and as usual, he listened to your desires sitting by you rather obediently as you two conversed.

"It is not like you to ask of my presence during your meals, mortal. Is there something you wished to say?"

What didn't you want to say? As soon as you could open your mouth all of it began to spill out again, like those questions you asked when you first arrived here.

You knew he wasn't a full-blood, you knew he just felt bad that he almost drained you, and you knew he didn't like drinking directly from someone if they were unwilling! You knew it all but most of all you liked him the way he was. You loved him even and before you could finish your ramble of a confession he had already pressed himself against your lips.

"Oh, how is it that a mortal like you can love a beast such as myself?"

Nagito (Zombie)

Though it was quite impulsive, you had felt implored to walk take a walk in the dead of night.

It was a humid summer night and with your clothes sticking to you and the hum of the ceiling fan relentlessly filling your ears you clearly needed to get a small break.

Grabbing a bag with a few small things such as a flashlight, keys, and whatever else you could possibly need during a night stroll you soon departed, forgetting just why it was so risky to leave your home.

As you continued on your stroll to the next block you happened upon the local graveyard which was always stirring with life, at least that's what you had heard.

Perhaps it was the humidity or the lack of sleep making you feel so careless but rather than heading back home you decided to approach the gates of the cemetery when a gloved hand came to press itself over your mouth.

"Don't scream, I just want to talk." A raspy voice whispers lowly into your ear causing panic to shoot through your body.

With your bag still in hand, you easily shake the offender off, swinging your bag at him as your eyes shut in fear. However, instead of any pained sound, all you hear is a sigh and multiple things hitting the ground.

Despite your head screaming at you to disregard that and run though you instead put on a brave face and open your eyes, noticing that he was now missing his arm and head.

"Ah man, this is so embarrassing," he starts only awkwardly scratching the back of his head with his free hand, "you wouldn't be able to uh, hand me my head would you?"

Wait, he's a zombie, isn't he!? He'll just try to bite you!

Even with your protests though he doesn't bat an eye only negotiating with you instead. "I know it sounds like I just want to bite you but I swear I won't. If it makes you feel better you can even grab me by my hair. There's no way I can bite you that way, right?"

Despite the position he was in, he still seemed fully capable of quipping at you so you relented. What harm will come from this guy if you can knock most of his limbs off with one swing?

Dropping your bag to the ground you tentatively grab his head by the hair watching as his expression doesn't change despite the tug on his scalp as you hand it over to his body.

To your surprise, he grabs himself the same way and somehow easily reattaches the head with his one arm intact. This must happen quite a lot for him to be so unfazed even with only one arm.

"Thanks again! You wouldn't mind tossing my hand over here too would you?"

He asks with a relaxed smile on his face. He didn't move towards you at all, seeming to wait for you to answer as you looked over and saw that gloved hand now laying by your bag.

He didn't seem dangerous but before you could find it in yourself to give him back all of his limbs you needed to know why he grabbed you earlier.

"Oh, that? Well, to be honest, I was trying to warn you about the graveyard. Tonights a full moon and it's when a lot of the more violent zombies and other monsters come out. That's why I didn't want you to scream either if you had well, you'd be found and eaten immediately."

But then why wasn't he attacking you or trying to eat you? You wanted to question him more but for the most part, his answer was vague.

"Well, I don't want to eat you. How about instead you toss me my hand and I'll walk you home? That's fair isn't it?"

You couldn't disagree, it did seem fair but you certainly hadn't expected this development in the slightest. It might not have been too uncommon for someone to escort you home but a zombie was surprising.

You braced yourself, grabbing ahold of the purely skeletal hand and glove as you tossed them over to him. Now with another question to ask. Was the glove to cover this?

"That actually has to do with how I got to be a zombie. It's a funny story since I'm pretty lucky but I was born with a disease that causes your brain to deteriorate. I wasn't supposed to live long and no matter what doctor I went to, none of them could do anything."

So why was his hand like this then? Did he already start decaying? Despite just meeting, he seemed intent on sharing his story with you as he gave you an awkward smile and continued.

"No one could cure me so I decided to take a risk. As a human still I sought out a Witch Doctor and ironically the only way to save me so that I could accomplish my goals was to kill me."

Popping his hand on with a satisfied look on his face he smiled at you.

"It's ironic but even with the ritual, I got lucky! She needed something as a sort of sacrifice I guess so she needed my hand or at least the flesh from it. I'll admit it was pretty painful since I was still alive but even then it seemed that it was destined to happen. A rare occurrence happened in which my hand was still intact and strong enough not to snap either! It was a miracle that the witch said must have been because the demons or dark gods had chosen me! Amazing isn't it?"

He puts his glove back on, looking at the hand fondly as you went silent. That was supposed to be amazing? Didn't he still die? What about his family and friends?

Despite your questions, his expression didn't falter as he calmly explained he had none. No friends and no family to come to his funeral. He died alone and seemed unfazed.

"That's enough about me though, we should be getting you home now."

Sure enough, he was right, however, something seemed off. How was it that he knew the way to your house? Even when you questioned him though he seemed so nonchalant.

"I know because you fill me with hope," he says expression growing dark, "I know from the way you walk to the way you talk, to the way you even eat your meals that you are what I need. It was such great luck for you to walk by tonight where I could talk to you where I can finally tell you how I feel."

Pinning you to a nearby wall he smiles as he asks you too frozen by fear to scream, "Did you think that any zombie would be so harmless? My goal is to bring hope to the world and in order to do so, I need you. You awaken the purest hope sleeping inside of me and for that, I can never let you go."

Before you can respond to his delusions he presses his lips to your own and that was the last of what you could remember when you woke up in your bed.

It was just a dream, it had to be you thought, but when you opened that bag and found a note in it you knew immediately that it was all true. You were being stalked by a Zombie of all things.

Kazuichi (Gorgon)

You were going on a jog through the nearby park in the evening when you chanced upon a figure in the distance.

Although you only saw their back, they were dressed in the brightest jumpsuit you'd ever seen. They definitely couldn't be up to anything shady in such an ostentatious outfit, you thought, so you called out to them as you drew closer.

As soon as your words pierced their ears they perked up immediately running over to grab onto you sobbing about how he got "left behind," when suddenly he froze.

"Wa-wait you're not a..." letting go and backing up from you like you had the plague you noticed why he was freaking out. You definitely weren't a monster and he definitely was.

The two of you ended up screaming from the shock as the monster clumsily ran in the opposite direction, tripping over the roots of an overgrown tree and falling with a sickening snap.

You couldn't leave him like this. Even as you approached he seemed scared out of his wits, wincing away as you tried to help lift him up.

"Please don't hurt me! Please don't kill me I...I beg of you! I'll do whatever you say!" He cries out between sobs, not realizing that you are just trying to help him out.

However, he was struggling far too much to help him either so you had no choice but to sit yourself down and reassure him.

"But how can I even know you're telling the truth!? What if you're just going to kill me later?" Despite his sobbing finally melting into mere shaky breathes he looks at you with nothing more than distrust as he tosses accusations around.

He might not believe you but at least he isn't thrashing about like a caged animal. This time promising, not to hurt him, you help him up allowing him to lean on you as he winces in pain.

"Shit, I think...I think I really hurt my ankle. It hurts just to stand!"

Though he had acted so high and mighty a moment ago, he instantly melts into your touch, letting you do most of the work as you walk to your house.

There was no way to transport him anywhere else without some basic medical attention at least. An idea that he wouldn't have taken kindly to if not from being so exhausted from your interactions in the forest.

Struggling to get your key out of your pocket with him leaning on you, you manage to open the door and lead him to your couch so that he could rest.

Turning so that you close the door behind you two, you hear him speak up once again.

"Hey uh...about before and all, I don't normally act so, so lame. I'm normally a lot cooler than that and-" You held back a sigh, cutting off his lame excuses by telling him that you understand.

A heavy silence fell over the two of you, thicker than the uneasy tension in the air as you began to tend to his ankle.

Occasionally shooting an uneasy glance in your direction, he once again opens his mouth trying to say something only to close it again.

You really hadn't expected to encounter such a cowardly and awkward monster and yet here you were with one sat on your couch as you ended to his ankle with an air of uncertainty around the two of you.

This time, you spoke up, trying to get anything to rid you of the heavy feeling in the air as you spoke. Besides, you did have your own questions that you wanted to be answered.

For example, what exactly is he? You knew he wasn't human but with his beanie on all you could tell was that he had greenish skin and snakelike eyes.

"Oh, that? I'm...a Gorgon," he responds, rather awkwardly as he reluctantly pulls off his beanie to reveal bright pink snakes that contrast his green skin.

Cringing as you let out a gasp he prepares for you to laugh but instead is met with the exact opposite. Did you call him cool looking? He, he was cool to you?

Feeling pride swell within him he smiles at you, the awkward air finally for a moment. A moment that certainly did not last long as one of his own snakes bit him.

"Shit! The hat where's my hat!?" He exclaims, patting the arm of the couch for it when you notice how it fell out of his reach as more snakes readied to sink their teeth into his face.

Running over to grab the beanie you hand it to him as he quickly contains his snakes that let out an audible hiss of disapproval. "Argh, they always do this but uh thanks. I must seem pretty lame right now though huh?"  

Seeming down already from the altercation with his snakes you assure him that he's not lame although you do wonder why they dislike him so much.

"Well, they've never got along with me since animals don't really like me at all but they started getting really violent after I learned magic to dye them pink."

He learned magic to make them pink? That was incredible, you mentioned, praising him and causing a small blush to coat his cheeks.

"Yeah, I learned from a friend of mine. She's a lich actually so it isn't really an impressive spell for her but I guess it is kinda cool that I could learn it, huh?"

Agreeing with him that it is indeed pretty cool that he could learn magic, you soon finished with his ankle.

However, even as you finished you both continued to talk throughout the night. Talking about his weird Turned Vampire Rival, and his Alien soul bro, and other fun topics.

You didn't realize it but it must have been so much fun that you eventually fell asleep beside him because you woke up still situated on the couch. However, when you looked over Kazuichi was gone.

It was if it all was a dream or so you thought until that same awkward Gorgon appeared on your doorstep in the middle of the night days later.

Seeming nervous as usual he gave you a small smile. "Hey, S/o, yah mind if I come in?"

Despite your sleepy daze, you nodded as you led him to the same couch that you had fallen asleep on after talking to him for the whole night and took your own place next to him.

Per usual he was fidgety and nervous but you did notice one thing different about him. Unlike the last time, you saw him he had a one snake peeking out from his hat that was happily swaying as you sat next to him.

Following your gaze on the little guy, he began to blush again as he stammered an apology. "Sorry, I guess Lugnut is just really happy to see you again. I don't always tuck him in because he's the only one that can stand me, at least most days. When we met last time he hissed at me in the morning so I kinda just tucked him with the rest."

Scratching his head he waits for a response as you just stare at him in disbelief. Did he just call his snake Lugnut? Did he really name them all like that?

"D-don't look at me like that! I have to call them something to tell the difference between them!" He whines as you let out a laugh now that your initial shock wore off.

"It's not funny! I told ya I needed to be able to tell the difference!" He protests again, only forgiving you once you apologize for all the laughter.

"Great, now that you're done laughing and all I did actually have something I wanted to say." He states as his hat begins to visibly move.

"I...I wanted to thank you for last time. I know I acted like I didn't trust you the whole time and that I disappeared even though I was hurt but I really like you."

He stops to take a deep breath as Lugnut begins to move around excitedly. "I know this is really fast but it's just that no one has ever called me cool the way you do, or listen to me really, or let me go on about what I like and, and I want to keep being able to!" he announces, never faltering as he looked you in the eyes.

"Even if you say no, I want to keep coming over and talking to you like we did the other night so will you let me come over again?"

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #dr2 #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa x reader #x reader #gundham tanaka #nagito komeada #kazuichi soda #kazuichi souda #mod toko #monster au

[leeknow-bestboy]

If You Close One Eye - Chapter One

Ships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Bang Chan/Yang Jeongin | I.N, If you really squint you can notice Lix is into Binnie, Hyunjin was into everyone once

Characters: All the kids, The ex kid isn't here I edited him out, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Trigger warnings: panic attack, ptsd, original character death, homophobia, original character cheating, descriptive imagery.

Word count: 5277

Chapter: 1/?

Next chapter 

Tags: Murder Mystery, amateur detective minho, Soulmates, not your typical soulmate AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Slow Burn, Slow Build, good things take time let it slowburn, minho is singlehandedly responsible for the slow burn so blame him, no soulmates in this universe only they are, criminology student minho, art student jisung, POV Third Person, chan deserves better and he does indeed get better don't worry, art references please look stuff up, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, best sibling bond ever.

"If you close one eye, you can see what your soulmate sees"

Born with one eye an unnatural golden color, Minho and Jisung have been forced to cover them up with colored lenses in order to blend into society.

The magic to their eyes? Even they still didn't know.

This is the story of how criminology major and dance minor Lee Minho found himself hopelessly in love with the serial killer, local artist Han.

[Alternatively, let's see how long I can make these two dumbasses pine without one of them snapping. Edit: they finally did]

[Also WARNING: a HUGE amount of Jeongchan ahead, it's not subtle at all! So much fluff--]

As per usual, the playground was packed; children of all ages ran wild, squalling and laughing like the little menaces they were- all of them avoiding a short kid who couldn't be older than five, seated at the very end of the sandbox and holding back tears of offense and loneliness.

It's not that he got bullied, he wasn't. His mom raised a tough kid who'd bite back when he's bit, but no one would play with him now. Not with how he looks, they'd rather scream and run.

Five year olds shouldn't worry about that.

Rubbing his left eye- the good one, he could see a woman's shoulder and hair. Her smile, bright and comforting, wording out a song with no sound.

"Jisung!" His mother's voice rang aloud, recognizable and warm in the hostile environment.

"Baby," She called again, finding him and wrapping her son in her arms. For the moment, there was no strange woman- only his own mother.

Jisung sniffled. "I hate people." -These words that shouldn't be said by a child flowed so easily from his lips, as if it was the only reasonable conclusion.

"We need to talk about something" his mother's voice, once excited and lively sounded utterly defeated. Little did he know, it was the last time. Years of telling him he's perfect just the way he is, special and unique in a good way, definitely- have ended up making no difference in the end.

That day, he learned to put on contact lenses.

.

"I know you're upset about the divorce, but you have to accept that it happened."

The woman's voice, high pitched and unpleasant, drove Minho ever so slightly closer to the edge. By now he knew no adult in the world would ever take him seriously, so what was the point in sitting here and listening to her talk?

The woman pursed her lips, plump and telling of the many times they went under the scalpel. Tapping her foot, she hazily reminded Minho of his own mother when scolding was due.

"If you don't talk to me, that's fine. Nothing's going to change. I get paid by the hour you know, I can do this all day."

That being said, she was probably stressed- no therapist had ever gotten Minho to talk, he's been changing doctors since his hallucinations began, which adds to a little over three years now.

"Minho, I can't help you like this. Tell your mother I give up."

A sense of dread spread over the eight years old. Again, another adult doesn't get it. Another one giving up on him, leaving, and suddenly he wanted her to stay. Pretty badly he did, at the time.

"I don't care that my parents broke up, I've been seeing monsters all day"

The woman blinked, stunned into silence. At the tinge of tears he rubbed his right eye- and there it was, certain as ever; drawn with a sharpie, people with horns. In a moment, a pair of hands that weren't his took the drawing away and pulled out a new one, drawing harshly a sad smiley face.

Although he was a big boy, he cried right then, scared out of his mind and very confused. He cried so hard it almost slipped off- the contact lens hiding his mother's disgrace.

Looking up, the woman made no effort to comfort or dissolve his fright. Rather, she was scribbling down the whole ordeal. Taking notes, furiously assessing and picking him apart, she finished her analysis smugly and said,

"It's time we get you a prescription, my dear"

And that was definitely not the last of it.

.

"Oppa"

Minho groaned lowly, alerting the speaker to the fact he's been woken from sleep.

"Minho oppa!" the voice persisted. Fully intent on hanging up, Minho side glanced at the caller id to make sure it wasn't important.

"Motherfucker!" the voice on the other end rose. From the corner of the bed Doongie meowed, alarmed.

"Freaking shrimp, what do you think you're calling your oppa?" He blurted. This isn't a call he should skip.

"Egg laying bastard! Answer me when I call you!" His sister's comforting voice trickled out.

"Gremlin twarp!"

"ballerina!"

"Whiny child!"

"Prune old man!"

"spoiled princess!"

"Mean hoe!"

"-!" Wheeze.

"I got you, you horrible gay bitch"

"We're both gay, Ryu" He threw back.

It's been a while since she last called.

"Well, you live alone, so I assume you're doing much gayer things than I can do at home."

Minho started, failing to hold back his horrified gasp. "Ryujin, you're eighteen!" He exclaimed. It seemed like yesterday she was still following him around, like some baby duckling.

"She's being mean Doongie, like you three don't count." He added, Ryujin electing to ignore his comment.

"How's dance going?" her tone changed, turning softer. For all their differences, dance for sure has always been something both loved and loved together. From copying idols on TV, to taking ballet and hiphop together, Jazz too.

"I'm not in college for dance and you know it" He groaned, immediately softening as well.

"I miss it a lot. I wish I could do more than minor in it.." On the other side of the call Ryujin hummed, understanding. She has always known his passion best.

"You're good at what you do too. You'd make a kickass detective." She claimed.

"I'm not taking criminology to be a detective." Why she had to be reminded was beyond him. If anything he aimed to be an officer, someone to tell kids off if they mess with the neighborhood cats.

"I'm just saying you could be!" She defended- which wasn't wrong, if he played job openings right. He did have a knack for picking apart mystery books too, but that was nothing out of the usual.

"How's grad life?" He asked with genuine interest. Nothing could ever matter to him more.

"I asked Chelle out, finally." She said, and Minho couldn't help but notice the edge evident in her voice.

"What happened? Did she let you down? Should I come over?" The questions left his lips before he could consider them, worry clouding over him.

"No, it's nothing like that. She said yes, but.. Yeah, oppa, I really wish you were here. I need to talk to you, face to face. Mom misses you too." She ended lamely. It was so unlike her, Minho couldn't find it in him to correct the fact that it was only Ryu's mom and not his.

"Tell her I'll be visiting tonight then, I'll go get ready." He said, fully intent on making the sudden drive over. It was only a two hour ride over to his father's, where Ryujin and his step mother lived too. If he headed out now, he could make it before dinner.

"Really? You don't have to, I know you hate it here-" Her attempts of taking it back wouldn't work once he set his mind to do something.

"Really really. I miss my stinky troll sister too," He insisted. No way was he leaving her be. The moment something felt off with her, he knew he had to go make sure she's fine; there aren't many things as precious in his life as she is.

"Dumbass," she relented, voice worryingly relieved. "I'll go tell mom."

He smiled, tapping his nail on the headboard, now sitting up at his bed. "Bye"

She huffed, pausing for a moment before giving her last reply. "Goodbye, oppa. I love you."

.

Minho sighed, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel.

For what little time he spent at his father's place, a surprising amount of bad memories were made. Up until his teen years he wouldn't even enter, and every time after that made for a rich history; first panic attack, first time breaking a leg falling down the stairs, coming out, taking Ryu to junior prom- door shut in his face that time, claiming she was grounded for beating up the neighbor's son. First time stung by a bee, and that weekend when his father's doberman puppy bit him in play, tore open his front lip and got sent to a dog pound despite his protest.

'Come on,' he thought. 'You can do this. Count to three-' and at three he did, opened his car door and walked up through the front gate.

"Minho! How lovely to see you." Smiled his step mom, a warm, if not a tad unnerving woman.

"Nice to so see you too. How have you been?" He asked, clean-cut manners kicking in. Dal and Byul had meanwhile made their way running over to the door, immediately rubbing against him with some level of desperation. He leaned down, rubbing Dal's small head.

"I've been well, your father too- that's right! Honey, come say hi to Minho." The short, lean woman called, still blocking the entrance to the oversized house and keeping Minho at the door. Whether this was on purpose shall forever remain a mystery- she did it every time.

"That brat has nothing to do in this house" His father's voice warmed over.

"Hi dad." He tried still, calling over the woman's shoulder. "Can I come in?"

Said obstacle smiled, moving aside at last. "Of course sweetie, Ryujin will be right over."

Taking that exchange for what it was, he made fast pace towards the kitchen. Avoiding his father has become a praised skill by now, a crucial one by all means.

"Dallie, Byulie, psps" he tried, pleased when both ran on over towards his outstretched hand. Two more allies at the ready.

Light steps cleared the remaining discomfort sullying his mood in short moments. "You!" A pair of arms tightened around his shoulders, prompting Minho to lift his little sister in a piggyback.

"You too!" He answered, relieved at feeling welcomed at last.

"I can't believe you actually came. Did you tell your mother you're over?" She asked, tactless as ever. He loves her a whole lot for that, too.

"She's not the boss of me, I'm twenty one" He announced, eyes closed in a content smile as his sister gently pet his hair like a cat.

"What about me? I'm almost nineteen, I wish I was free like you, Lino!" Exclaimed Ryujin, but really she didn't. There was a certain freedom gained from nobody caring about you that no one should be jealous of.

Letting her hop back onto the ground, Minho kept the smile on his face. She seemed fine, but he could tell better. Still, they couldn't talk before dinner- the pots and pans at the stovetop smelled just about ready, after all.

Instead he turned to face her, petting her head lovingly like she had his. "What's this? This tiny Ryuddaeng's nineteen? No way."

"Almost!" she growled. "Next month I'll be."

"Where have the times gone?" he questioned, shoving her playfully at the comments of "old man".

.

Dinner went as uncomfortably as expected, his father and he had behaved remarkably well- hadn't spoken a word to each other throughout. Minho ate neatly, made sure to compliment his step mother for every dish, and Ryujin helped by washing them after. All in all, it was successful unlike many dinners before.

Making way to the guest bedroom, Minho paused at the sight of his sister's door left slightly open. Right, yes- this would be a good time.

Knocking quietly, he waited for permission before entering and closing the door, waiting for Byul to enter alongside him. "Are you alright?"

Ryujin nodded, glancing up at him and back to the floor. He took that as a sign to take a seat down on her fancy dragon themed carpet.

"Are you really alright? Ryujin, I know we're not great communicators, but I'm still very worried. Is it dad?" At that his sister shook her head, taking a deep breath.

"Don't get mad, but I have a huge favor. You know Chelle, I swore I'll ask her out when I graduate and I did, but she…" Minho crossed and uncrossed his legs, chin finding its place resting on a knee. Byul purred, rubbing against it.

"She's missing. She's been missing for two weeks now, no one knows where she is." She explained, voice stern.

"I don't think she ran away, but her parents keep saying she did. She said nothing to me." She added, hoping he'd fill in the rest on his own.

"They're not filling in for missing person?" He asked, worry making his back stress and ace.

Ryujin nodded. "I know she's the bad girl type, but she wasn't into drugs and her friends seem fine. I keep trying to ask around but I can't, what if something serious happened?"

Minho nodded, realizing where he comes in. "You want me to investigate? See where that takes us?" He asked. For sure, that should be the police's job- but with her parents saying she ran away, would they even bother?

Ryujin kept quiet, eyes burning holes into Minho's. This was her crush, a big one- he's never liked Chelle, but now? If Ryujin cares that much… sure. It's not something he should be messing with legally, and a new project to be added atop his ever growing college work, but he'd do it for her. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ryujin asked back, relieved.

"Yes. I'll do it." He assured.

Ryujin's features softened farther, mouth breaking into a smile. "You're my new favorite person."

Minho smiled lightly, mind running full speed. "I need details. When and where she was last seen, and about her; exes, Instagram, friends and hangouts."

Ryujin's smile faded. Nonetheless she turned, pulling a notebook out of her bedside drawer.

Scribbling away the details he requested, she paused to ask a couple questions before turning back to her chore. "I know less than I thought." She admitted.

"That's fine, but I have a few more. How was her mental state, where did she study, was she on meds and did she mention any places?"

This kept on for a few hours, ending after they let an annoyed Byul out of the room - with Ryujin tiredly announcing that her brain is fried and he can ask the rest over chat when he's back in college. On his end, Minho learned one important thing:

This girl was not who she seemed to be.

.

Back at his apartment, Minho re-read all eleven papers of info they've gathered. On the way he's prepared a list of places to visit, only two of which stemmed from the info Ryujin herself had given him. Other than the school and family bistro down the street, it seemed the two have never gone out together, although Chelle was one to do so.

Good, he thought.

Scrolling through her Instagram, he noted which followers seemed to comment more, and who would show most often on highlights. Her latest post have been boring- it was landscape art of what he assumed to be a tall grass field on the outskirts of seoul. Around three months back he found a picture of some guy at the beach, shirt off and abs in clear view. Seeing as he looked nothing like Chelle, it would seem they weren't related.

Sorting through the packed comment section, someone's request to take it down stood out. Tapping on the person's icon, he realized that was probably the guy in the picture, although the account was made private. An ex? That would make a good trail.

Not having an account himself, by now Minho has used Ryujin's, but to follow guys it would seem he needs his own account.

Setting up all the necessities, he took a nice picture of Dori and made it his profile, sending the guy a follow request right away.

Now we wait.

.

"Oppa, if you have no photos or description and no followers, and he doesn't know you, did you really expect he'd approve your request?" Ryujin's laughter trickled through the speakers, as if it's been obvious. "You're going to have to find him." She pointed, before hesitantly adding, "Or I can-"

"No." Minho said, stern. "This guy could be Chelle's ex, he might be really dangerous! You don't get to follow his Instagram."

Ryujin sighed, and Minho got the sudden mental image of her rubbing the bridge of her nose as she did. "You have friends right? Ask one of them." She advised.

"I need to go, dad said I can't go out unless I finish these applications." She explained, hanging up after a round of goodbyes.

Right. He did! He has friends.

Picking his phone back up, Minho scrolled his contacts looking for either Felix or Hyunjin. The two weren't in his major, but they shared a dance class. Out of the student body, they were closest to his definition of friends.

A couple rings went by before the line picked up. "Hyung? Hello!" Felix's cheerful voice calmed the older's nerves ever so slightly.

"Felix, hi." He answered, trying to seem casual. "How are you?"

Felix took a moment before responding. "I'm great! I'm actually out with Chan hyung, is something up?"

"Who?" Minho asked, confused.

Felix took another moment. "Bang Chan. He's a fourth year in sociology, I don't think you'll know him."

Minho came close to a sob right then. "Can you pass him the phone?"

"Yeah sure." Felix agreed immediately, followed by ruttling sounds.

"Hello?" A voice sounded, accent similar to Felix's own.

"Hi! My name is Minho, I followed you on Instagram a couple days ago."

A short silence. "Oh my god." Chan exclaimed.

"No, never mind that, I need to talk to you." He rephrased.

"I have no idea who you are." Chan replied, confused.

"It's about Chelle." Minho added, hoping to learn anything from the other's reply.

"Oh." Was all he got. "Okay, I guess we should meet sometime then. How is she?"

The question caught Minho off guard.

"I, I'll tell you more when we meet. When are you free?" he asked, quickly seeking out a pen and scribbling the time and date on his wrist, phone squeezed between his ear and shoulder.

"Yeah, sounds great! See you then." He concluded, getting passed back to Felix and thanking him profoundly before hanging up.

"In my own college." He muttered after the phone found its place back on the table.

"Unbelievable."

.

Not many people occupied the café, despite its convenient location not far off the olympic park. For that reason Minho concluded, the coffee there probably sucked.

It wasn't his intention to show fifteen minutes early, but his nerves got the best of him, taking shape in miserable pacing until he deemed it late enough to leave his apartment already. Worst case scenarios running through his mind, he wasn't expecting it as someone took seat in the chair opposite of his.

"Hello. It's Minho, right?" Asked the stranger, dimples forming in an awkward smile.

"Ah." Minho voiced dumbly before quickly picking himself up adding,

"You're Chan?"

In the short time that passed between first learning of Chan's existence and actually seeing him, Minho's mind managed to fill with expectations and fears, all of which shattered right in that moment.

First of all, the guy in the picture had very defined abs and arm muscles, making it seem as if he'd be your average muscle-head, someone who could pull apart limbs off boys like Minho- a description that apparently had nothing in common with the hesitant and awkward person in front of him. Rather, he found that this Chan was a tad shorter than him, barely filling the light gray sweater he threw on.

Secondly, while the photo showed a man with straight dark brown hair, the man in front of him had soft blond curls that seemed so, so fluffy- invoking a primal urge to pet them in, Minho assumed, not only himself, but also every innocent bystander.

Lastly, by the amount of english in his Instagram description, one would expect an obvious accent, but that had been proven false on the phone call anyway. Regardless, Minho imagined a foreigner, so seeing his face up close had been a surprise on its own, especially considering the smile… he was, how would he put it? Cute.

"Yeah! Nice to meet you. I was worrying I'd be early, but it's good to see you are too." Minho could only half process the words, a glance at his phone telling him they both still had around ten minutes before the planned meetup time.

"Right! Right, I wanted to talk to you." Minho started, forcibly clearing his mind of any strange thoughts.

"You said it was about Chelle? I assume you're her new boyfriend?" Chan asked, voice a bit strained.

"No, It's not like that. I wanted to know if you've heard from her for the last couple weeks." Minho replied, quick to correct him so to not make things needlessly awkward. Right, he thought- Chan still might have had something to do with this girl's disappearance.

"Oh, well, I actually hadn't, I try not to do that anymore. We didn't end things on good terms." Chan confessed, picking Minho's interest.

"What happened?" He asked, worries picking back up.

Chan paused. "Are you her friend? This kind of thing is a little personal, I don't want it to affect your friendship."

Minho blinked, thinking up a smaller scale storm. "I live in her neighborhood. We're not very close, but some things happened that made me look for you."

Chan hesitated, saved by the waiter's interruption asking which drinks the two would have. Still suspicious, Minho only ordered a small iced americano, Chan matching with a small iced tea.

"You probably know we dated for around two months, it ended after I found she was cheating for a long time."

Minho's breath hitched, dangerously close to choking on his coffee. "She cheated on you?"

Chan's expression fluttered before he nodded, sheepish smile back on. "Kind of pathetic, isn't it? I couldn't hold her attention. At least, the others didn't know."

Minho gaped, unsure how to handle the new information. Chelle, the girl Ryujin asked him to look for. Was that her true nature? "What do you mean others?"

Chan's embarrassment grew, yet he didn't look away. "We were around.. five, I think.. that I know of. I followed her for a bit."

The awkwardness settled, leaving both speechless.

"Okay, I'm really sorry but I still need to ask you a couple more things." Minho was the first to break the silence.

"Go ahead." Chan smiled in relief.

"Were you mad? Wait, no- Can you think of anyone who could have held a grudge against her? More than, I guess, this."

Chan shook his head. "She's a really nice girl! She has some serious issues, but I liked her a lot at the time."

Minho bit his lip, ready to push on. "Chan, I'm going to be honest with you.. Chelle's been missing for over two weeks now."

If Chan was drinking at the moment, it would have been his turn to choke. "What?" he asked, voice steady.

"I got in touch with you because right now, nobody knows where she is. Or someone does know, but I don't" Minho explained, hoping his message went through alright.

"Are you sure she's not ghosting you? She might be." Chan offered. Minho stiffened. If Chelle was fine, if she was ghosting his sister- there will be hell to pay.

"I don't think so?" he continued anyway.

"I can't remember a specific person who would want to hurt her, but.. God, I'm worried. Chelle's gone? Like, kidnapped or.." Chan paused, taking deep breaths.

"If you have any information on where she could be, it would help a lot. I don't know her well, I'm not sure who else to ask either." Minho added.

"What do you want to know?" Chan asked, worry clouding his face in an unpleasant way. Minho almost felt, scratch that- he did feel really bad for the guy.

"Hangouts, friends, habits, names of other exes- mental state too, it's a little invasive but I can't find her otherwise." Chan stared, eye contact with Minho intensifying as neither averted their gaze.

"Okay." Chan replied after a while. "I don't really know you, but I guess it suits her. If anything happened, I wouldn't expect an officer anyway."

Slightly disturbed, Minho pulled his notes from his bag, offering Chan a big sheet of paper. Just like that, the two had begun- Just as Minho had with Ryujin before.

"I can't help with other Exes, I don't know any of their names. I do know where she hangs out usually." Chan supplied helpfully.

"Chelle, she's very into art. She thinks her art, only hers, is the best of the best. She considers herself an undiscovered gem, that kind of mentality. She'll do anything for exposure, and she likes compliments a lot." Chan bit his lip, pausing in his writing.

"She's not on good terms with her parents, and sometimes I remember, she said she wanted to run away. She has horrible mood swings, but when she's happy she can be the sweetest, most considerate person in the world. I think she had too much love in her, that's why…" Chan trailed off, sighing before shaking his head and writing down some more details.

"I'm not okay with that, you know? It's the worst kind of betrayal, but I'm still so worried. I never wanted anything to happen to her, I don't wish that for anyone." Minho hummed, recalling back on his previous suspicion, how ridiculous it seemed now to think that of this person.

So it went on, the two of them coming up with important details and question marks to jot down. Before they knew it the sky turned dark, an impatient barista politely asking them to leave.

"You have my number, right?" Chan asked.

"I don't." Minho replied, glad Chan remembered. The two exchanged phones, filling in their details with some hesitation.

"Call me if you need anything, or if you find her." Chan added, eyes glinting under the streetlights.

"You too, call me if you remember anything important." Minho replied, parting with a wave goodbye and heading towards the bus station.

It was only on his way back that he recalled their first exchange through the phone, and how stupid it had been to expect anything else from a friend of Felix's, of all people.

Groaning lowly, Minho moved his bag up, staring at the paper pile stuffed inside it neatly. Ahead was, he expected, a night full of reading- all 38 new pages of details about this girl, who he found himself liking less and less with every passing statement.

.

Over an extended time period Minho had found himself visiting many different places to no avail. He tried asking around, dropping Chelle's name here and there for good measures, but it seemed that the girl had vanished into thin air. Her only legacy had been the outrageous rumors surrounding her name, such as dating kids much younger than herself and having sex to get her way in the art world. Really, Minho should have stopped there- he wanted nothing to do with this girl anymore, was happy even; happy that she didn't get to lay her hands on his sister. Yet he couldn't stop thinking, this girl.. She was missing, it was real, and not one soul other than him have made a single attempt to locate her. How could he give up now?

It had been a long day- visiting a bar from the list in the morning before moving to a café nearby and finishing one of his assignments, Minho decided to follow up on Chelle's tracks. Twelve days have passed since his meeting with Chan, and although his anxiety kept getting worse, the list of things to check kept getting shorter with every lead he crossed out.

This one had honestly been a lame lead, but he wanted to make the most out of it- a short trip out of seoul, to a grass patch stretching a couple miles that was similar to the one he saw on her Instagram. If he couldn't find her with anyone's help, he thought- maybe he should try to think like her more. This girl, where would she go? Who would she meet? What would she do? And for that this practice was important, too.

The land stretched, tall grass for as far as the eye could see. He roamed around, looking at the tall buildings that made his home from afar. From here, definitely- he recognized the scenery as the one she drew that time. Stepping back through the grass, it didn't make much of a difference from how far he's already been, but the moment felt special somehow.

Minho breathed in, a strong breeze blowing from the front and carrying the dust and pollution of the city with it. Bad air, even this far back. At least it was silent, no cars, no birds either- it felt peaceful. Minho stepped back again, pulling out his phone, intending to take a photo. A couple more steps back, and he tripped- landing on his butt in the grass.

It was there that he found her.

.

Jisung stretched, back aching after sleeping in so late.

"Good morning, and good luck falling back asleep at a normal hour." Seungmin commented. True that, Jisung managed to mess his sleep schedule pretty badly. Good thing it was friday.

Standing up, he considered responding before giving up and making his way to the kitchen.

"Ji," Seungmin spoke up once more,

"At least brush your teeth. I'm your roommate, not your mom- I shouldn't have to tell you this!" His voice, although annoyed, remained calm. He did have a point.

"Okay mom." Jisung replied, deadpan. Without another word he turned, entering the bathroom and picking up his toothbrush to do as instructed.

Life as an art major was hard- he had so much work to do in little time, and the pressure made it feel a little like a job. Nowadays his minor in music made for the only stress reliever he could put time into without guilt, and he wondered if maybe he should have chosen it for major instead. Useless thinking about it now, anyway.

Jisung went on brushing, releasing a small whine at the thought of his next assignment. Whatever- he rolled his eyes, raising a hand to rub the remains of sleep away.

Tall grass, the clear view of seoul from afar- blurring, moving, fast as if he was struck by lightning.

The toothbrush clinked loudly against the sink as it dropped, leaving Jisung with the reflection of himself in the mirror, left hand raised. He made quick way, spitting the paste and powerwalking back to their room, brushing against Seungmin on his way there.

"Jisung? Jisung, you can't just leave this here." Seungmin bristled, pausing at the sight of Jisung pulling out his sketchbook with the craze of someone going through a revelation.

He sighed, recognizing the scene in front of him. "Inspiration struck?"

Jisung hummed, wiping his mouth and beginning to sketch. This happened every once in a while, it was one of the things that made Jisung… well, Jisung.

"I'll clean up. Should I order takeout?" Seungmin asked, affection sneaking into his voice. He's a bit weird, but sometimes he was cute too.

"Thank you, please." Jisung replied absentmindedly, focused on the paper.

"I will. Okay." Seungmin concluded, fishing his phone out to call his favorite fast food handler.

To them, after all, it was nothing more than an average friday night.

#Minsung #Jeongchan #Stray kids fanfic #lee minho #han jisung #lee know #bang chan #yang jeongin #skz #fanfiction #tw panic attack #tw ptsd #tw original character death #tw descriptive imagery #tw homophobia #tw original character cheating #heart of mine #golden boi #fried fusilli #mean boycrush

[shima-draws]

Different anon but I would LOVE an SAO recap if you don't mind!

Oh HELL YEAH

Alright kiddies buckle up it’s ~RECAP TIME~

Season 1: Sword Art Online/Aincrad Arc

Kirito and 10,000 other players are trapped inside SAO, a game made by Kayaba Akihiko, and are ordered to clear all 100 floors of Aincrad. There’s one catch: if they die in the game, they die in real life. Kirito meets Asuna, Klein, Agil, Silica, and Liz (#Mainsquad). Over the two years of being trapped in the game, Kirito solves some murders, rescues a lot of people, loses a lot of people (RIP Sachi you will be missed) beats up some floor bosses, goes head to head with a murder guild called Laughing Coffin, falls in love with and gets married to Asuna, buys a house, and adopts an AI daughter named Yui. Wow this kid is busy. On the 75th floor Kirito realizes that Heathcliff, the Commander of Asuna's guild, is actually Kayaba Akihiko. Kayaba offers him the option to duel, and if he wins, he will end the game early and allow everybody to log out. Kirito fights Kayaba and, after Asuna intercepts a fatal blow and dies in his arms, is able to defeat him. The game is cleared, and everyone is able to log out!! Kirito and Asuna meet up one last time as Aincrad collapses below them.

Season 1: ALfheim Online/Fairy Dance Arc

Fast forward to several months later. Kirito is on the road to recovery! Except Asuna is still asleep, and nobody can figure out why. Kirito visits the hospital only to discover that Asuna is getting married off to a nasty pedo named Sugou, who controls Rect, a company that runs VRMMORPGs. The wedding is in a week. Kirito panics and is cheered up by his younger sister Suguha. Agil sends Kirito some sketchy screenshots of what appears to be Asuna, inside of a game called ALfheim Online, which is, surprise surprise, run by Rect. Kirito dives into ALO and begins a new adventure! He teams up with Leafa (who is actually Suguha) and the two of them race towards the World Tree, where Asuna is supposedly being kept. We find out that it's Sugou who has trapped Asuna within ALO (because he pretty much runs the game. Asswipe) and is trying to manipulate her into marrying him (ew). Some minor stuff happens with the leaders of some of the fairy races but that's not too important. Eventually the truth comes out and Kirito and Leafa realize who the other is in real life and it's kind of a mess but then they make up and it's...fine? After that, Kirito makes it to the top of the World Tree with the help of all of his new fairy friends. He valiantly rescues Asuna (after some difficulty but then Kayaba's ghost shows up and gives him God Powers) and beats up Sugou who is a disgusting rapist! Kirito logs Asuna out and reunites with her in the real world. After that he distributes a special gift Kayaba had given to him called "The Seed", basically a tutorial kit to create your own VRMMORPGs. The gang logs into ALO to find out that Aincrad has been brought back as part of The Seed's release and get hyped to clear all 100 floors this time.

Season 2: Gun Gale Online/Phantom Bullet Arc

We're introduced to a new game called GGO, which is a lot darker and grungy than SAO/ALO. The star of this season is a girl named Sinon, who is a pro sniper in GGO but has an intense fear of guns in real life because of an incident years ago where she shot a robber and killed him out of self defense (poor, sweet child). She has a close friend named Shinkawa who cares about her a lot who she leans on for support. Scary shit is happening in GGO because famous players are getting shot in game by a guy named Death Gun, which apparently kills them in real life, a repeat of SAO. Kirito is brought in to investigate! He meets Sinon in-game and they sign up for a big tournament to decide who is the most top class gunner. Kirito makes a name for himself by using a laser sword in a game meant for guns (typical protag behavior), and is spooked by Death Gun because it turns out he's a formal Laughing Coffin member from SAO. During the tournament, Sinon is revealed to be one of Death Gun's next targets, so she and Kirito team up and form a bond! Eventually Kirito manages to defeat Death Gun, and he and Sinon win the tournament together (by setting off a present grenade so they die at the same time LMAO). Sinon logs out and meets up with Shinkawa, who reveals that he is one of the people running the Death Gun persona, and tries to kill her by drugging her. Kirito bursts into her apartment at the last second and rescues her. Several days later Kirito helps Sinon come to terms with her trauma, allowing her to finally heal and move on from it.

Season 2: Calibur Arc

Kirito catches word of a new quest in ALO that will allow players to chase after the legendary weapon, Excalibur. Kirito throws together a party (Asuna, Liz, Silica, Sinon, Klein, and Leafa) and aboard a giant elephant jellyfish that Leafa befriended before. The party is greeted by Urd, an NPC and the Lady of the Lake, and she asks them to retrieve Excalibur from the bottom of a frozen lake dungeon. Kirito's like hell yeah we will and so they set off for the dungeon! There they face a pair of really difficult bosses, but are able to defeat them due to the power of friendship and also stabbing them until they die. Deeper into the dungeon they run into a trapped NPC named Freyja, who Klein immediately gets heart eyes for, and although he's repeatedly informed that letting her join their party is a trap (by literally everyone in the group, go figure), decides against his better judgement that he's going to follow his samurai avatar's honor and rescue the fair maiden. Freyja actually gives them some crazy stat boosts so it was #worthit. At the bottom of the dungeon they run into the boss, Thrym, and when Kirito finds the legendary hammer Mjolnir, Freyja takes it and transforms into the god Thor (which crushes Klein beyond repair). Thrym is defeated! At the bottom of the dungeon, Kirito pulls out Excalibur, causing the dungeon to collapse, and is then rescued by Leafa's monster friend. Urd returns and gifts Kirito with Excalibur as his reward for defeating Thrym.

Season 2: Mother's Rosario Arc

Asuna is told rumors about a player in ALO named Zekken, who is so extremely powerful that they have a perfect winning streak, and has even defeated Kirito in a duel. Zekken apparently duels players every day with the promise of gifting them a phenomenal 11-hit sword skill if they can win. Asuna decides to try her chances, and although she loses, Zekken, revealed to be a young girl named Yuuki, decides Asuna is perfect to help her out on her mission. This is to defeat a floor boss with just her guild, the Sleeping Knights, in order to get all of their party's names on the Monument of Swordsmen. After several tries the guild manages to beat the floor boss all on their own. Yuuki accidentally calls Asuna "sis" and panics, logging out and not coming back. Asuna finds out that Yuuki is actually a patient at a hospital and is terminally ill--which is why she was so desperate to defeat the guild boss as a sort of last hurrah and to have her name engraved somewhere in history. Yuuki's been in a full dive machine called the Medicuboid which lets her play games virtually and helps block out her pain. Asuna gets inspired and with Kirito's help, is able to set up a probe that Yuuki can look through in order to see what school life is like in the real world. Several months pass, and the Sleeping Knights spend as much time together as they can. Finally Yuuki's health begins to decline and she logs into ALO one last time to say goodbye and to give Asuna her 11-hit sword skill, Mother's Rosario. Hundreds of other ALO players all join Yuuki to give her a proper send off and pay their respects. As Yuuki dies in Asuna's arms (it's so FUCKING SAD I cry every time I watch this scene), she tells Asuna how grateful she is to have been able to meet her and spend the past few months with her and the guild. After Yuuki's funeral, Asuna and Kirito find out that the Medicuboid she was using was created by Kayaba Akihiko, surprise!! And this leads right into season 3.

So there you go, your recap of both seasons!! Hopefully it was short enough lol I cut out a lot of less important stuff so ;)

#Claps my hands #SAO #Sword Art Online #Shima answers questions #Long post #Recap #Anonymous

[racingtoaredlight]

The Bigsby

This colossal piece of shit you see here is the famous Bigsby tailpiece.  It’s one of the most iconic, infamous pieces of guitar hardware in the history of the instrument.  One I’m willing to bet you’ve heard somewhere...but not that many where’s...

Because, again, I cannot underscore how big of a piece of shit this thing is.  And yes, I willingly, knowingly bought a guitar with one of these monstrosities on there, despite it’s numerous flaws.

“Whammy bar” means a lot of different things to different folks.  Eddie Van Halen weaponized it.  Leo Fender refined it and brought it into the modern age.  When most people in the modern age think of the whammy bar, they think of dive bombs and big waggles and some cool shit.

At its most extreme, the Bigsby provides nothing more than a gentle shimmer.  A gentle shimmer that somehow knocks youre ENTIRE FUCKING GUITAR OUT OF GODDAMNED TUNE deep breathe spencer, deep breathe.

***

You’ll get an idea of what the Bigsby’s all about in the video above.  Played by an absolute master at his peak, on a guitar that had a Bigsby operating at it’s best.

***

CON #1 - Restringing

Most guitars with a trem system utilize Leo Fender’s design.  The strings are anchored by the ball end at the base of the trem.  It requires nothing more complicated than threading your string through the bridge...and that’s it, that’s the entirety of the steps required.

With a classic Bigsby (more on the modern ones in a second), you utilize the hollowed out section of the ball end.  The hollowed out section that every string manufacturer still uses, despite the only tailpiece that needs this are the increasily antiquated Bigsby’s.

What you do is put the ball end through the pin, wrap it around the back of the tailpiece...maybe thread it under an additional bar if it’s a more modern Bigsby (to help give the strings the proper break angle, which helps tuning stability)...and then PRAY TO GOD it doesn’t slip off the pin while wrapping the string around the tuning pegs.

If that doesn’t make any sense, don’t worry, it shouldn’t have.  It’s a solution straight out of the Russian space program.  Da, Bigsbyvich...vy not easy make hole for string in cheap bar of metal?  “Nyet.”

Unless you use tape, that ball end will fall off the pin REPEATEDLY during string changes.  Not that big of a deal if you’re at home.  But if you break a string during a gig?  OH SHIT.

***

CON #2 - Tuning

I mentioned this above...

Let me ask you a series of rhetorical questions.  a) what makes music pleasing?  It sounding good.  b) does out of tune music sound good?  No.  c) would you like to use this tailpiece that immediately knocks you out of tune?

This problem is kind of solved with modern interations of the Bigsby.  They now make a “string through” model, which makes the pin problem something of the past.  And with locking tuners...tuning pegs that have a screw to keep the string in place...that previous section is no longer much of a problem at all.

But you still get knocked out of tune because the Bigsby design is inherently unstable.  It’s really annoying, but there are workarounds.  The first workaround is tuning during every song break...something you should do anyways as a musician playing in public, but we’re in the Butt Era of music, so that shit hasn’t mattered since the early aughts.  The second is simply not use it.

***

CON #3 - Weight

Weight matters when you’re playing live.

“Oh look at you you little pussy complaining about having to carry nine pounds on your shoulder for four hours.”  Listen you little strawman...if you tried to practice like I do, you’d be tapping out after 15 minutes because your fingertips wouldn’t have any skin left on them.  So cut the macho shit.

Next show you go to, watch a guy playing a Les Paul.  Note how fresh and energetic they are at the beginning, and then take a look at the end of the show.  3-4 hours standing with an anchor strapped to you is murder on your back and the shoulder your strap rests on.

I mention this because the Bigsby adds a good chunk of weight to your guitar.  It’s gotta weigh easily over a pound.  And if you’re someone who simply doesn’t use a Bigsby, you’ve got extra weight on your guitar for no practical reason that’s readily identifiable.

So yea, there are some definite downsides...downsides that are legitimately shitty...to the Bigsby tailpiece.  You break a string during a gig?  Fucked.  Don’t have a working tuner during a gig?  Fucked.  There is one massive, massive positive.

***

CON #4 - Chinese variants

Like every major guitar part manufacturer, Bigsby realized the money wasn’t in distribution but in licensing.  The vast majority of guitars you see with a Bigsby tailpiece will be cheaply licensed variants from China.  Every single one of those previous categories’ cons are greatly magnified.

The Bigsby is art, not science.  If it were science, it’d be like Fender’s trem system.  All of the above...the variabilities are magnified.  They’re more of a pain to restring, they go out of tune faster, they’re made out of cheaper, heavier metals.

Basically any guitar with a Bigsby that’s under $2,500 has a Chinese variant on it.  This includes the model I just recently bought.  And whether you use it or not, those issues above that are magnified become even bigger pains in the ass when the tailpiece isn’t made exactingly.

***

PRO PRO PRO - The Sound

This isn’t something quantifiable like weight or tuning...wait yes it is, to a certain extent.

With a modern, Fender-style trem system, you’re chopping off basically all the string that’s not 100% essential.  You pull it through, wrap it around the peghead once, measure roughly an extra inch with your finger, and then chop the rest off.  What this does is create a wonderful string tension that allows you to really dig in...especially with Fender’s longer 25.5″ scale length.

On a Bigsby...again the strings are barely anchored to anything...you get an extra 3-3.5″ of string length that’s wobbly and loose.  The Fender twang comes from scale length, but the Gretsch twang comes from the pickups and design.

This is where the unquantifiable comes in...this looseness and silkiness adds a character to the tone that simply isn’t there with a more typical Fender or Gibson style bridge and tailpiece.  You get different harmonics and overtones.  It’s more forgiving and missed notes aren’t as audibly punished.  The other strings vibrate more (even when muted) and add even more of a character to the overall sound.

Simply put, guitars with a Bigsby...whether you use the trem system or not...sound different.  The extra string length makes all the difference, and the loose nature of the Bigsby gives you a unique character to your sound that’s quite different than what you’d find on a more modern style.

***

That last bit alone is the reason Bigsby’s still exist.  And why Bigsby models with the antiquated pin system still exist.  I do believe that pin vs. string-through models sound differently...unfortunately, not for the better in the case of the modern versions.

Locking tuners make a lof these issues less severe, including restringing.  If you can lock on one end, you’re actually in pretty good shape even with the pins.

Of my four guitars that see regular play, three of them have trem systems on there that I don’t use.  However, the trem system itself is a variable that changes the guitar’s overall tone...and in the sense of my Strat, PRS and Gretsch...these are changes that I find sonically pleasing over hard-tail peers.

Here’s *my* truth...doesn’t matter your trem system...it could be a wonky Chinese Bigsby, a Floyd Rose, a vintage Strat with Leo’s original design, a precision machined Kahler...they ALL SUCK.  They all knock you out of tune and are more of a pain to restring than a hardtail.  It’s why I “decked” my Strat and “blocked” my PRS*

*”Decking” is adding additional springs to the trem so that it’s fixed to the guitar’s body.  You can’t do this with guitars that have an arched top, in which case you “block” the trem by putting  a piece of wood in the cavity that keeps it from moving.  This way they’re essentially a fixed bridge.

But the apparatuses do alter the tone in a pleasing way.  Highs are less strident.  There are more overtones and harmonics.  And the Bigsby’s the same story.  Even though it’s a piece of shit that I hate, there’s still something there worth it.

[odyssey-system]

Enchanted: Part of Your World #1

"Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?"

Fiona Seville was on the phone with her father Dave as she sat on the couch in her apartment. Her frizzy hair was a slight mess as she adjusted her legs. "Y-Yeah, of course, Dad."

She could hear him sigh on the other end of the phone, along with a cough. "I was supposed to go to a benefit masquerade ball tomorrow night. The one that I go to every year."

"Right! The one for state arts programs?"

"That's right. Well... I can't make it this year. I ended up with bronchitis and your brothers have to take care of me at home."

Fiona frowned. "I'm sorry, Dad..."

"It's alright. I was just wondering, since you were closer, could you make the donation in my place at the ball?"

She bit her lip. She was not typically a person to deal with large crowds, but for the only parent in her life, she'd take a leap of faith. "O-Okay but if I make the donation for you, can you transfer me replacement money after?"

"Of course, sweetheart. You have my word."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After a few phone calls with her agent, Ethan Blake, Fiona was able to donate money, book a ride and acquire an outfit for the night. She'd spent the past few days looking around for pop culture tidbits she might have missed over the past week or so. She practiced talking to people in the mirror, and she arranged to get out an hour early from work that day.

So now, here she was, sitting in the front seat of a Dryve car in a stunning silver ballgown made by one of Ethan's friends, Addison Sinclair. The driver wasn't much for conversation, preferring to listen to the radio, but she didn't mind.

Eventually, the car pulled up to the designated drop-off point for the masquerade in front of the Sheridan Hotel in downtown Los Angeles, a line of paparazzi along the velvet roped red carpet. Fiona put on her mask and took a deep breath.

Showtime.

Fiona made her way out into the stream of flashing lights, walking toward the start of the red carpet. She only recognized one face in the line of paparazzi: Ana de Luca of Trend Magazine, one of her favorites. She put on her sweetest smile as she heard murmurs about how no one knew who she was, and she prepared for the barrage of questions with a nervous glimmer in her eyes.

Surprisingly, none of them approached her but she was asked to pose for pictures, to which she obliged.

What mattered more to her was getting inside after speaking to both of the hotel's front door bouncers and the bellhop, who helped her find the ballroom in which most of the event was held.

The ballroom was massive, much more extravagant and intimidating than Fiona could have ever imagined. It felt like she was walking around in a fish tank full of people.

It terrified her.

"This place is pretty cool, isn't it?" A young man in his early twenties asked her confidently. "Definitely better than my prom."

Fiona smiled, the conversation alleviating some of her nerves. "Yeah, it's beautiful in here."

"Is this your first time going to this?"

"Yeah."

The man gave an understanding smile. "Me too. I'm Chadley."

"I'm Fiona." She fixed her hair and her mask, shifting her remaining nerves into movement.

Chadley smiled. "Do you want to go get something to drink?"

Fiona nodded back at him. "I'd like that."

The two made their way over to a table with refreshments, Chadley immediately going over to the flutes of champagne. "Bubbly?"

"No thanks." She tried looking for other drinks but only ended up finding water on the table. She grabbed a glass and a reusable straw kit, following Chadley.

"How'd you get an invite to this party? Did you have to pass some initiation or something?"

Fiona laughed. "No. Why, did you?"

"Yeah, kind of! Mr. Groot said that I needed to start sharing my brain cells with my kind and jump into a canyon with no braces for my teeth." He said it with nonchalance, making Fiona recoil a little. His eyes widened. "No no, it's okay! My agent Ethan told me that it was his way of saying I needed to venture out of my comfort zone or something.

She sighed in relief. "This Groot guy might need to find a better way to come across with what he's saying correctly... But at least you have Ethan. He's my agent too."

"Oh sweet! He always has the best suits."

Fiona could think of a few other outstanding qualities about Ethan that would rank higher, but she did have to give Chadley that. "What do you do?"

"I'm a film actor. What about you?"

"Oh! Um..." Fiona's cheeks tinged pink slightly. "I'm a barista but I do have this character acting gig. I do birthday parties and stuff."

"That's cool! Do you like it?"

"Yeah! It's fun to make characters on your own that you can help people with, you know?"

"Hell yeah! So are you working during this party then?"

She shook her head. "No, my dad's a composer. He comes here every year, but he got sick and couldn't make it this time. He wanted me to make a donation this year for him, and I'd do anything for my dad."

"I get you. I'm gonna go talk to more people but-" He took a napkin and wrote down a set of digits. "Here's my cell phone number if you need something. I've gone to some stuff like this, I can help you."

Fiona smiled warmly. "You're so sweet, Chadley! I appreciate this, thank you."

"No worries, Fiona! Hope I see you around." He went off into another portion of the ballroom.

Afte watching him go and making sure he was alright, Fiona went to go sit next to the stage. It was sparsely used at the moment, a few musicians tuning and doing mic checks. She took a few minutes to browse her Pictagram feed idly, pausing on a post by the Wilshere siblings when she noticed something familiar about the backdrop.

"Excuse me." A tall male with shoulder-length hair and a beard said as he approached, gentle and calm with his security badge visible on his belt. "I need you to not block the stairs, ma'am."

Fiona blushed and glanced at the stairs. "Sorry, sir..."

"It's okay. Some of the acts are just ready to sound check."

"Right, of course." She followed him out of the way before spotting a pair of blondes approaching the stage: the Wilshere twins.

Fiona was in awe.

The male of the pair nodded to the security guard. "Thank you, Damien." He turned to Fiona. "Sorry for making you find a new wallflower spot. We just don't want anyone to get hurt, especially a charming young thing like you."

"Arthur! Don't tease the poor girl!" His sister strode over and gave a wide, warm smile. "Sorry about him." She took Fiona's hands. "You seem overwhelmed, love. Are you alright?"

Starstruck but true to Avery's observation, Fiona bit her lip. "I'm not used to navigating parties like this."

"I understand. These things can make a girl feel so small in a world so big, especially for your first time at one of these parties." She squeezes her hands. "There's a few different rooms next to the ballroom being rented out for the ball as well. Those might help you find a smaller group of people around here."

"Avery? Your turn for sound check," her brother called out.

The blonde sighed. "I have to go. But you've got this. I believe in you."

Fiona watched Avery go onto the stage, still anxious but more hopeful than before. She gave both her and Arthur a wave before walking around the ball a bit more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After half an hour of roaming all of the other rooms, Fiona found herself in one that resembled a casino. It was a bit smaller than the other rooms, which helped her anxiety, but it felt very much like a boys' club in there with the amount of older men. Several men stared at her as she walked in, appraising her like jewelry. Or worse. She did her best to not give them any ideas or pay them any mind.

Unsatisfied playing games with any of the older men, she made her way over to the bar that was for the most part unoccupied. She sat on the other end of the bar, ordering a coffee instead of alcohol because of her need to have a clear head to survive the night.

When her coffee arrived, the waitress also placed a notebook in front of her, a pen tied to the spiral. She opened it cautiously, seeing neat handwriting on the first page.

Are you alright?

Fiona looked up from her spot and noticed the only other patron at the bar: a younger male but still considerably older than her, nursing a glass of scotch in his hand. His eyes met hers, and he smiled genuinely back at her. She pointed to him and then down at the notebook. He nodded in response. She quickly wrote a response after grabbing a pen from her purse:

Yeah. My first time at one of these events. It's a little scary.

She slid the notebook over to him so the waitress didn't have to do it. She watched him write, moving his hand in a gentle and elegant fashion, before he slid it back to her.

I understand. I didn't want to scare you and add to that. Do you want to sit with me?

Fiona took a moment to collect her thoughts before sliding her purse onto her shoulder. She collected the notebook and her coffee, walking over to sit next to him. "Sorry. I-I just figured if my answer was yes, I didn't want to be redundant.

He nodded in reply. "That's alright. I'm Thomas, by the way."

She smiled. "I'm Fiona."

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

Thomas crossed his legs, right over left. "So what got you to come out here tonight, Fiona?"

"I-I came for my dad. He normally comes down here but he's sick this year."

"What's your last name?"

"Seville."

The name seemed to click in Thomas's head. "Ah yes, I believe I'm somewhat familiar. Dave's his name, right?"

"Y-Yeah."

"I remember him. We've met in passing before, I believe. The most I know is that he's a composer. Are you in the music industry as well?"

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break, it's in a million pieces

Fiona shook her head. "Not exactly. I'm a barista most days, but I also do children's birthdays and other stuff like that as a costume actor. Sometimes it involves singing, but it's not the bread and butter of what I do."

Thomas smiled. "Impressive. You definitely achieve the Disney princess aesthetic tonight."

She blushed. "Thank you. You look nice too."

Hush, when no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

The two could hear the bartender turn on the television, and a picture of Thomas without a mask on flashed across the screen as part of a television tabloid, along with his full name.

Mortified, Thomas partly covered his face with his hand.

Fiona looked at him sympathetically, reaching for his empty hand. "Is everything okay?"

Hush, I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

"I... I have a problem with fangirls sometimes." He held her hand gently. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "D-Don't be." She looked around. "In all fairness, half of the people here look like you because of the masks and everything."

He uncovered his face. "You're not even a little starstruck at me?"

Fiona smiled and shook her head again. "I-I mean, I *do* know who you are now. But... I mostly look at Trend and music industry magazines, so I don't get your exposure a lot."

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything About me to fit in

Thomas took another sip of his scotch, contemplating her words. "Well... What is your impression of me, then?"

You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I-I think you seem like a hard worker. You have ambitions that aren't always in the realm of reality, but you try. And you make every effort to keep your private life and your work separate. You think art is a second life in and of itself."

Thomas sat silent for a moment, stunned. "And how did you manage to decipher all of that?"

Fiona's smile hinted at a hidden laughter. "You don't seem like you've sold your soul to any towel rack of a tabloid, Mr. Hunt."

He knew the game she was playing now. She seemed to warm up to him quickly, something that could hurt them both if they weren't careful.

But the angle she was going for now? Two could play at that game.

Hush, when no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

"You'd think correctly, Ms. Seville," he said with a regal and teasing side-smirk. "However, seems it's my turn to pick your brain."

Fiona flushed, almost retreating from the teasing as her fingers on one hand started playing with the edges of her frizzy hair. "G-Go ahead."

Thomas was gentle as he shifted on the barstool, taking a full look at her. "You are definitely in touch with your inner child in a way I don't see often around here. Not necessarily the innocence, but you tap into that with your curiosity, your sincerity, your kindness."

Fiona shied away slightly at the very accurate read of her.

He let her have a moment to recover before continuing to speak. "I would love to have more time to figure you out fully, to get to know you, person to person... if you'll have me."

Hush, I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

She looked up at him with soft silver-blue eyes, searching herself for the answer as she contemplated his request. "O-Okay. Can some of that time be without a crowd...?"

He smiled. "I know just the place." He took her by the hand and led her out to an open balcony, pulling her into a slow dance as the door closed after them when they got outside. He led her, one arm around her waist and the other holding her head protectively to his chest.

And they called off the circus Burn the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

She pulled away from the close embrace, moving to hold his hands again. "I-I..."

Thomas smiled, a patient ease to his posture. "Yes, Fiona?"

"Can we have... more than just tonight to know each other?"

He held her cheek. "I would love nothing more."

And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

In an instant, her lips tilted to reach his.

And nothing else that night mattered for a weightless, ethereal, eternal moment.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

[outbreak-by-daybreak-archive]

Safety Blanket chapter 6: Dangerous encounter Leon Kennedy x Fem!reader

chapter 1,chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 

read on a03 

well howdy hey its been awhile (haha most of this was on my old Leon Stan account/old resident side blog rip) but here ya go..

warnings:canon typical violence 

word count:2,555

You and Leon walked down the steps into a small room filled with books and other strange art pieces, Leon did tell you the station used to be an art museum. You looked over at Leon who still did look a little sad.

“Hey are you ok?”, you asked him hoping he wouldn’t just ignore you, he was picking up supplies spread all around the room.

“Yeah I just”, he stood there for a second clenching his fists, “I just wish I could have helped him”, you could hear the sorrow in his voice.

“You can’t save everyone, no matter how much you wish you could, trust me I know that one all too well”, you said looking down and rubbing your shoulder.

“Does it get easier?”, he asked looking at you, you couldn’t describe what the expression on his face was, a sense of uneasiness, hope, it was hard to tell.

“I uhhh”, you stood shocked at his sudden asking of it, you wanted to choose your words carefully. You’d only been through all this in a week, yet you were hardened by it.

“It’s fine you don’t have to answer”, he said, turning away from you.

“No wait!”, your body just moved on its own and you grabbed his hand. You looked up at him seeing his blue eyes again with his blonde hair, you remembered how you were when he found you scared and panicked, when you freaked out about Maria he was there for you, he hadn’t left you behind. You remembered his calming heartbeat, his smile and overall kindness. Unlike everything that had happened to you Leon was pretty much the only good thing about this hellhole, and you weren’t about to leave him in the dust.

“No it doesn't”, you said looking deep into his eyes, he saw how misty your eyes were, “you just get better at hiding your emotions sometimes”

He looked back at you, you had a soft smile on your face, he didn’t notice how pretty you were with your (H/C) hair and your (E/C) eyes, was this an awkward time, yes, yes it was, but it wasn’t just your looks but the way you held yourself, after everything you’ve been through both physically and mentally, you still kept your head up high.

“And I’m not about to lose anyone else”, you said pushing a piece of hair out your face, “and that’s a promise”, you said looking up at him smiling.

“(Y/N) I-”, Leon looked at you shocked at your words, maybe you were stronger than he thought you were. People who knew you well always said you were loyal no matter what, even to the very end.

“Come on let’s get going”, you said excitedly giving Leon a nice bubbly smile, he walked over still shocked by the sudden switch in personality.

You wanted things to go back to normal desperately. You missed the old you, the one that was happy and cheerful no matter what, but that wasn’t going to happen until you got out. So why not try and be happy just for a little while. Leon got hints of what you were truly like. Maybe you did over do it a bit but it was something you were going to have to get used to. Leon smiled at you and followed you towards the doorway that led to an elevator. You two shuffled inside of it.

Leon took a deep breath and pulled out his gun, motioning you to do the same thing, “we don’t know what’s down there”. You nodded at him pulling out your shotgun. Leon then pressed the button and the doors shut and down you two went.

The door opened and Leon told you to wait as he cautiously stepped outside. He looked around for a moment before signaling you to follow him.

You stepped out and were surprised and confused to where you were, obviously underground but something about it was strange. You followed Leon down a few stairs until you got to a place that looked like a boiler room. That’s when you heard someone or something walking around. You quickly held onto Leon’s arm, anxious at the sound.

“What the hell was that?”, you whispered

“I don’t know, stay close”, he said towards you and you nodded back. You followed him further inside, still very confused at where you were at. You followed Leon until you two were blocked by a locker. You stepped back and allowed Leon to see if he can push it out of the way. Leon was able to move it out of the way, which surprised you slightly but something surprised both of you.

A man, no monster, you couldn’t tell, jumped from the ceiling startling both you and Leon. Leon just stood there shocked however as you shrieked out of fear. You both just stood there for a moment before it slammed and grabbed Leon while it pushed you to the ground. You were dazed for a second before realizing Leon was being slammed against the floor over and over again. You quickly stumbled to your feet. About to ready your shotgun when the monster broke through the floor causing both it and Leon to fall through.

“Leon!”, you quickly yelled about to jump down when a quick jolt of pain from your ankle caused you to fall backwards. You looked down to see Leon trying to evade the monster as it chased him. Leon tried shooting at it but realized it wasn’t doing much. You wanted to jump down and help but that fall might definitely hurt your ankle if you weren’t careful. You knew you had to help Leon but how was going to be tricky, you didn’t have a lot of time. You noticed it’s eye on its arm.

“Leon, Shoot the eye on its arm”, you screamed at him still trying to find a way down there. You kept walking towards the hole that the monster left but immediately turned back around. You were basically pacing. You heard Leon groan in pain for a second. Your face went pale and your heart raced. You quickly looked back at the hole.

“This is stupid and it’s gonna hurt”, you said to yourself preparing to jump down, last time it was a bigger drop so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. You took a deep breath and jumped down trying your best to land on your left ankle first opposed to the right one. You were sort of sort of successful but the force that went on your right ankle was still enough to cause a quick bit of pain from it, you flinched for a moment before getting up to find Leon. You quickly found him and noticed he was cornered by the monster.

“Hey you!”, you shouted at it, and in which it immediately turned around to face you. Leon looked at you and panicked at whatever you were about to do. You just stood there as it walked over to you slowly. Your breath hitched for a moment, as you hoped maybe Leon could get a good shot on it.

You were about to grab your shotgun when it suddenly grabbed you by the head lifting you up. Panic spread throughout your body, the monster proceeding to crush your skull. You screamed out in pain trying to reach for the shotgun but were unable to. You felt it grip your head tighter and tighter, your breathing becoming very ragged and shallow. You started screaming even louder tears were streaming down your face. Your face is turning red. You wiggled around trying to get out of its grasp causing the syringe in your pocket to fall to the ground.

It felt like forever as you just were in the air with your skull being crushed. You suddenly fell to the ground, very hard. You grabbed your head and curled yourself into a ball. It felt like your head was going to explode and your body felt like a noodle. You could barely move. You saw the syringe in front of you and slowly grabbed it, putting it back in your pocket. You heard many gunshots and curses from Leon.

You laid down for a while, breathing in and out trying to regain your composure. You looked over to where Leon was and saw the monster start stumbling backwards and falling into the abyss. You tried getting up but quickly fell back down.

“Hey take it easy”, he said to you, “are you ok?”, he looked at you worriedly. You tried to smile at him but ended up crashing into him. You fell right into his lips, causing Leon to take a step back. It was a very awkward kiss. Leon forgot that physics still exists and watched you headbutt him.

Well one thing Leon learned is that you had a very durable skull. He placed your head back against the railing so your head could be supported. Leon went out to look for more supplies while you dozed off and unconsciously remembered something.

You looked at the other kids playing on the playground. Laughing and screaming just having a very fun time. You wished you could do the same. You were shy, a little too shy, it had been about a month since you moved to a new school and were having no luck finding any friends. Most of the other kids ignored you when you tried talking to them. You just sat at the swing set alone, sadly swinging by yourself.

“Hey are you ok?” you jumped up startled at the voice, you looked over to see a girl with black hair and green eyes.

“Umm I uh”, you didn’t know what to say or who this girl was, she looked about a year older than you.

“Well I’m Maria, Maria Cortez”, she said at you with a smile, “and this is Frank”, she then pointed at a boy behind her and he shyly smiled at you.

“Hi”, he said with a shy wave

“What’s your name?”, Maria asked looking at you”

“(Y/N)”, you said very quietly.

“Well it’s nice to meet you..hmmm how about we play tag together...all three of us”

You then realized she was talking to you as well and awkwardly pointed at yourself to confirm she was talking to you.

“Yep, how would you like to be friends with us?”, she asked you with a smile, you immediately jumped up excitedly and joined them walking towards the playground. That was the day you met Maria, your childhood best friend and her friend Frank.

“(Y/N), hey can you hear me?”, your eyes fluttered open when you heard Leon’s voice. Your head still hurt like hell but besides that you were pretty ok.

“Yeah”, you groaned out, “my head still hurts like hell though”, you said bringing a hand to your forehead.

“Please don’t do that ever again”, he said and you quickly noticed the blush on his face.

“What are you blushing for?”, you asked more grumpily than you meant it to be.

“It’s just uhh you uhh”, he said awkwardly pointing at his lips.

“I have a cut?”, you questioned very naively tilting your head to the side slightly.

“No”, Leon gulped out, still pointing at his lips, he then started to make kissing noises and you immediately caught on. Leon did this so childishly it made you laugh for a minute then your face turned red.

“W-When”, you stuttered out, “h-how”

“Well you sort of just fell into my lips and it happened, if it makes you feel better you did accidentally headbutt me”

You still were embarrassed about the whole thing but you did laugh after the head butt comment.

“Can you get up?”he asked, offering a hand.

“Yeah”, you said, taking his hand getting up slowly.

“I think someone is watching us”, he said pointing to a ladder. Leon went first to check out the area above

“It’s safe, come on up”, he said as you climbed up the ladder very hastily. Leon helped pull you up. You looked around and noticed you were in a parking garage of sorts. You looked and saw the gate that led outside. Next the gate was a kiosk. Leon looked around to see if any doors were unlocked, sadly all of the doors were locked. You both walked over to the kiosk realizing it needs a key card.

“Damn we need a key card”, Leon said just then you two heard growling, you and Leon slowly turned around. Seeing a zombie dog.

“You gotta be kidding me”, Leon said as the dog came rushing towards you two, Leon quickly shoved you out of the way as you slammed against the floor. The dog then pounced on Leon attacking him. You quickly got up looking at Leon who was now being attacked by the dog, he tried reaching for his gun but was unsuccessful. You were about to grab his gun when a bullet went through the dog's neck.

“Hey”, you heard a woman say, you and Leon both turned towards the voice and saw a shadowy figure.

“Who is that?”, Leon asked her. While you stayed silent

“Stay sharp”, she said, just then the dog tried getting back up but Leon quickly reached for his gun and shot it again.

You instinctively put your hands in the air while Leon sat up and drew his gun.

“Lower it”, she said to Leon before pulling something out of her coat, “FBI”, she then flashed a badge in both of your faces.

Leon quickly put his gun down, “sorry...thank you”, he was cut off by the dog slowly getting up again, the woman shot it, finally killing it this time.

“For the help..”, Leon countunied.

“Surprised you two made it this far”, she said to the both of you, she looked at you, you still had your hands in the air, “you can put your arms down now”

“Sorry”, you said quietly and you quickly put your back at your sides. The woman began to walk away from the two of you. Leon quickly got up weakling towards her.

“FBI, huh, what’s going on here?”, he said to her

“Sorry that information is classified”, she said behind her towards Leon, you caught up to the two of them.

“Where are you going?”, Leon asked the woman. She slowly turned back towards Leon.

“Do yourselves a favor; stop asking questions and get the hell out of here”, she said at him she then walked away.

“Hey where are you going?”, he yelled at her as she went through a door. You grabbed his hand, stopping him for a second. He looked at you confused.

“We don’t know who she is”,you whispered. You didn’t really trust her. Leon just turned back towards where she left. He sighed before walking around the garage seeing if anything was left there. You just followed him. You saw him digging through the trunk of a car. He stopped for a minute.

“(Y/N) can I ask you something?”, you just looked at him curiously.

“Y-yeah”, you gulped, you saw him hesitate for a second. He was trying his best to phrase his words.

‘“Why do you have a syringe in your pocket?”

#leon kennedy x reader #Leon s Kennedy x reader #resident evil #Leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #my writing

[radiantresplendence]

ΔΗΜΗΤΡΑ - Boss Notes

So, Covid 19 and other Covid-related activities have kept me pretty busy lately, but I have been keeping up with Fate/Grand Order: Cosmos in the Lostbelt’s new Lostbelt, The Interstellar City on a Mountain Range - Olympus: The Day a God was Shot Down. And I figured that I’d share my notes on the Demeter bossfight which has had a certain portion of the fandom calling this the biggest difficulty spike since the Camelot Singularity years ago. 

The Concept: Demeter is an unorthodox bossfight, as it requires you balancing your sustain and damage abilities without the use of a friend support. Instead, it has you locked into a forced story support in the front row of your team, a Caenis (NP5 10/10/10 thankfully) which is not optimal to say the least with the boss being a Caster and Caenis providing no team utility whatsoever. 

She has 3 health bars, with her first break bar being one of the two major danger timings of the fight, upon which she removes all party buffs and attempts to apply a 3 turn, 3 buff, buffblock to your entire party. 

The second breakbar turns the fight into a more-standard damage test, granting her a 150k guts and healing over time at the cost of randomly sealing her active skills at the start of her turn. 

The key to the fight is finding some balance between the damage required to kill her on her last legs and the sustain required to survive her two most dangerous timings. I should also note that she does fairly heavy area of effect damage with her normal attacks, making some degree of sustain strongly recommended for success at this fight.

The Struggle: Demeter has 3 actives skills that she likes to cycle through in a predictable rotation. On turn 1, she uses Earth’s Authority that gives her an effect similar to Tamamo’s Transformation skill on steroids. The defense buff is so potent, that unless you remove it, you will likely do negligible damage to the boss on your second turn. 

On turn 2, she will use Mourning Mother to give herself a 3 bar NP charge and a one-turn attack up. This skill isn’t dangerous now, but she will repeat it on her first action on turn 6, granting herself an immediate NP modified by the attack increase. This is the other danger timing of the bossfight, as her NP will likely do enough damage to kill your entire front line if you are not prepared. 

On turn 4, she will cast Mother’s Authority to remove any debuffs you’ve applied to her, give herself a one-turn single debuff immunity and heal herself for 25k. This discourages typical stalling strategies during any phase of the fight, but really isn’t terribly problematic. 

After turn 4, she’ll repeat her skill rotation, casting Earth’s Authority on turn 5 and Mourning Mother on turn 6. Followed by (I believe) a normal turn then repeating the established rotation. I am unsure exactly how her self skill seal on the third bar interacts with the rotation, whether it pauses it or simply skips the skill for the current turn. Either way, if you plan to be successful, you should be focusing on damage over party sustain to offset her healing at that point. 

Her Noble Phantasm is nothing terribly interesting, it deals heavy area of effect damage and applies a max health debuff. 

What Works: Caenis tends to die fairly early unless you go out of your way to keep her alive, something I wouldn’t recommend. As far as I’m concerned, her primary purpose is to apply as many attack debuffs as possible using her second skill to Demeter on turn 3, before Demeter uses her first NP. Then she is to die and be replaced by someone more suited to the fight. I’d recommend not even using Caenis’s defensive skill to ensure that she leaves the field when she needs to. 

Merlin doesn’t really help you here, as many players have learned, as his healing doesn’t effectively offset the damage that Demeter can do without a rather high NP level and his illusion magic can only mitigate one of her NPs, which in practical terms, occur once every 3 turns. She’ll also cleanse any Garden of Avalon stacks you manage to apply when you break her first bar. 

Your best bet is to use Riders over your typical support Casters, with Fragments of 2030 and defense buffs if you have them. In practice, Rider’s class advantage combined with defense buffs removes the threat of Demeter applying continuous pressure to your team, so you can focus on dealing damage when advantageous to you.

DO NOT break her first bar on turn 3 unless you want your front row completely erased. I found doing so on turn 4 much more effective as the 3 turn defense buffs that I applied turn 1 had worn off and I had a few turns before the boss could NP. 

I cleared the quest pretty easily with the following team using the Atlas mystic code. 

Caenis (support), Reines (2030), Quetzalcoatl (Victor from the Moon), Ushiwakamaru (2030), George (I don’t remember/Not Applicable), Heracles (Bond 10). 

Reines and Ushi were wiped out on the last turn, were Quetz killed the boss with a 100% crit brave chain, the last two party members didn’t even need to be there. 

Honestly, if you have Reines, she may be the best unit for this quest. I applied her defense buff turn 1, used it to mitigate almost all of the damage to herself and Quetz until it wore off, used the atlas skill haste, broke the boss’s 1st bar, and promptly reapplied Reines’ buffs. 

Through Reines’ defense buffs and Caenis’s 3 attack downs, Riders in your party will only take 5.5k or so damage from the boss’s first NP. In other words, with Reines, you don’t need to waste some form of hard protection against the boss’s fist NP and can save them for the more dangerous second NP. Realistically Quetz, Ushi, George and Herc can be replaced with whatever units you like who can effectively do damage to the boss. The Atlas mystic code can remove the boss’s buff block to make sure you can buff your damage unit when you need to. 

Alternatives to Reines: I understand that Reines is a limited SSR that due to no friend support, a lot of players won’t have access to. To that end I’ll recommend some alternatives. 

I could see using Boudica on an Arts/Rider comp with Ryouma Sakamoto and Mandricardo, so long as you’ve done some skill leveling. I can see it working much more consistently if you’ve managed to pull Da Vinci (Rider) and some good NP gain CEs. Essentially making an arts variant of the team. If you have Kintoki (Rider) I can see you paring him with Alexander for some Quick/Crit composition that exploits Rider Kintoki’s excellent generation skills and single target damage output. 

Conclusion: I really hope that this helps someone out. In my opinion, this fight is less difficult, and more requires unorthodox teambuilding from someone with a strong account to clear without the use of command spells. If you have Heracles bond 10, he can probably secure much of Demeter’s last health bar including the guts if you can make sure that he’s the only unit on the field when he comes out. 

Anyways, these are just my thoughts. If none of this works, feel free to call me out. 

#fate grand order #cosmos in the lostbelt #lostbelt 5 #lostbelt 5-2 #demeter #boss guide #reines el melloi archisorte #olympus #fate series