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howtofightwrite · 2 years

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So second question. Quarterstaffs are a lot more dangerous than people realize right? Like…big long sticks with a bit more weight on one end are remarkably effective weapons. But my question is this…how risky is it to actually fight an armed opponent with one?

Because I��d imagine if you’re fighting someone say armed with a sword that the blade could slide down the staff and cut into your fingers or someone with a spear (which is essentially just a quarterstaff with a sharp pointy bit on the end) could potentially just whack yours out the way and stab you with it. That’s saying nothing about an armored opponent.

Would a metal quarterstaff be an effective weapon against armor? I seriously doubt a wooden one would be…then again if you had metal coating on one end or a little ball that probably ruin someone’s day should you whack them with it now wouldn’t it…hm.

Anyway, quarterstaffs. Good weapon or no? Also potential upsides to wood Vs metal staffs? Or potentially mixed staffs with mostly wood and metal bits…I’m rambling anyway bye

The staff is the parent of all polearms. The OG. The GOAT. Spawner of a billion martial styles in cultures and countries all over the world and remains a foundational part of many of them. It is also the parent of the sword. Many versions of the sword, especially early versions and two handed versions, share the same strike patterns and work off the same principles. If your character knows how to use a sword, they were more than likely trained to use a staff first.

For martial traditions, the staff is Baby’s first weapon. Is it a good weapon?

Oh, yes.

Is it risky to fight one?

Yes, it is risky to fight someone wielding a staff. While staves are most often overlooked by the general (mostly American) public due to their simplicity, they can be a very dangerous weapon. They can break bones, smash heads, knock loose teeth, bust internal organs, and they leave pretty deep bruises even with light or accidental training injuries. The most common staff training injury involves smashed fingers. Lots, and lots, and lots of smashed fingers. The strike pattern is also simple, easy to learn, and perfectly viable for self-defense without knowing more advanced techniques or having the luxury of devoting a lot of time to practice.

Staves (like the bow and the spear) are paleolithic weapons. Every culture on earth has their own version. The staff has combat applications that survive to this day due to their versatility and ease of use. They’re cheap(ish) to make compared to alternatives, easy to learn, ridiculously effective, and capable of holding off multiple opponents at once. (This includes people wielding swords.) Due to the lengthy period of time where they remained peak, it’s not a stretch to say staves are the most commonly used if not the most popular self-defense weapon in human history.

If you get outside American media, you’ll see staff weapons get a lot more prominent as a weapon of use because of the strong martial traditions associated with them. They’re also extremely prominent in myth. The staff really is the commoner’s weapon, which is probably the reason American fantasy tradition ignores it.

I’m not sure if you came into this question thinking quarterstaff meant all staves, or if your question specifically relates to quarterstaves. However, since you specified the quarterstaff, we’ll stick with that one. (There are other variants. They are legion.)

The quarterstaff is the English version from the Middle Ages. The name denotes a specific type of staff, usually about an inch in diameter and between six to nine feet in length. The quarter refers to “hand position” which would be about quarter up the length, and where the staff was held in this particular martial style. The quarterstaff is a short staff in medieval tradition, long staves were between eleven to twelve feet in length.

These were solid wood, usually cut from oak or yew. They’re not brittle. If that wasn’t enough, the ends were often also shod with iron. So, yeah… Yay, blunt force trauma. You could use quarterstaves against armored opponents, but there are better tools.

Staff Combat

You don’t normally swing a staff outside having a specific reason to hold it with one hand at the end to fully maximize its reach in a wide arc. You give up a ton of control to do this, and that makes it a risky move.

The staff is a weapon of leverage. You rotate it into forward strikes with your back hand, while using the front hand midway up the weapon as the guide. This allows the wielder to strike with both ends by using the back hand as a fulcrum. The basic strike pattern is an X, also across the body on either side, down on the head, up through the groin, you can thrust forward, and you can shoot the staff forward too. Shooting is basically throwing it with your back hand through your loosened grip to gain greater momentum and force when the front end strikes the opponent. It’s a controlled, short-range throw where the weapon never truly leaves your hands.

Hand position changes and adjusts on the shaft depending on how you’re using it. If you’re predominantly utilizing the front end for quicker, smaller movements and more precise strikes, the hands will be set wider apart with one in the middle and one closer to the end. If you’re planning to transition with strikes between the front and back ends, your hands will be closer together and utilize the shaft’s central balance point. This isn’t an either or, you can shift between positions and strike patterns in combat, which is part of the staff’s versatility as a weapon.

Due to the staff’s reach, the whole of your opponent’s body from their feet to their head is available as a target. Don’t discount the power of exterior strikes to the limbs, especially the joints. Most combat strategies start outward and work inward as the opponent’s defense begins to break.

The strike pattern occurs in simple strikes (tip forward or diagonal or side and back to hit again) or in a figure eight as you transition the weapon into various defensive blocks and strikes while moving it across in front of (or, more rarely, behind) your body.

Due to being able to use both ends, you can gain 360 degrees of protection without having to adjust your stance, your grip, or where you’re pointing the bladed end. This, in addition to its range, is why the staff is a better weapon than the sword for defending against multiple opponents.

Don’t swing. Rotate. Sweep. Strike. The staff doesn’t need big moves to generate force because the force of the strike is focused into the tip. Traditional staff combat maintains the same narrow focus around the body’s center that sword combat does. You can, for example, fight with a staff in a narrow corridor. It’s not ideal, but it’s doable and the staff is perfectly capable of maintaining your advantage over an opponent with a shorter weapon or no weapon at all. If you’re imagining the large, controlled spins of some Chinese martial arts, it’s important to remember that those staves are largely made from bamboo and different materials create different combat styles. Oak is, pardon the euphemism, stiff wood. It’s heavier.

The staff is also very fast because of the rotation of the back hand, deals a lot of force, and one never has to worry about maintaining an edge.

In simple terms when thinking about using a staff: block with the front end, then rotate the staff over across your body and clock your opponent across the face with the back end. Then rotate it over again and hit your opponent on the head or, don’t bother and thrust it into their face.

The Quarterstaff versus the Sword

With weapons, it’s important to remember that the concept isn’t about which does the most damage but which tool is the right or most effective tool for the job. Every weapon has situations where they shine and situations where they don’t. It’s contextual.

The staff has an advantage over the sword in one-on-one combat. Sometimes, if historical records are to be believed, in three on one combat. However, every weapon is dangerous in combat. This isn’t rock beats scissors. Disadvantages can be overcome.

For swords cutting through staves, think about it like trying to cut down a tree with a pocket knife. It’s not going to happen. Sword’s edge will nick or get stuck in the wood, so it’s not going to easily slide down to cut fingers. That’s if the sword edge can get into range to reach the fingers. Like all staves, the quarterstaff is a weapon where grip adjustment easily changes both reach and fighting style.

The medieval longsword runs between three to four feet. The quarterstaff is six to nine, and probably, most commonly, between seven to eight. If you transition to hold it at the end like one would a spear and primarily thrust, the reach advantage is maximized.

It isn’t necessary to do that, though. It’s combat where only one side has to worry about maintaining their edge, but that edge is still dangerous if they get close enough. Both are still going to be striking on the same angles and using the same circles.

Take the weapon out of the way and come back across into the strike.

The Spear vs The Quarterstaff

This is just staff combat where one has a pointy, bladed bit on the end and the other doesn’t. There’s actually not an extreme advantage here, though the wielder with the spear is probably going to prioritize their point for striking.

These two really aren’t different weapons. More likely to see smashed hands here.

Metal Staves

They exist. I don’t know if they existed in England though. They never gained popularity over the wooden ones because they’re more resource intensive and wood works better than fine anyway. Solid steel or hollow steel vibrate more than wood. One of the major considerations of staff combat is vibration. The weapon vibrates on contact which wears out your muscles and is hard on your grip. (You know, in case you thought constant movement was the only part that’d wear you out.) This is one of the side effects about not worrying over maintaining the sword edge. You can clang staves together the way you can’t with edged weapons, and that leads to a lot more vibration over a shorter period of time.

Staves with Metal Balls on the End

These also exist. They’re found on other polearm variants specifically designed to go after opponents in armor.

Every weapon has a place where it shines, and a place where it doesn’t.

So, where are staves outshone by swords and spears?

Warfare. Specifically, in military combat. They’re better at one-on-one combat and self-defense. There are just better, more specialized tools for military combat.

There is no best weapon. There’s just the right tool for the situation or circumstance. You can certainly take a staff into combat with an armored opponent (people did) and be successful, but there are better tools for the job. Spears are a better ground weapon in terms of attacking in formation, they work well when combined with a shield, and are a better defense against cavalry.

The irony about the sword is that it’s the original sidearm, it isn’t meant to be the primary weapon, and it is for close range fighting. So, it’s a great weapon when you’re packed into a tight melee, don’t have a lot of room, and need a weapon that works well without requiring a lot of space to build momentum. It’s also easy to carry around if you’re planning to sit down to dinner. It doesn’t take up a lot of space.

By reframing how you think about weapons from “does X amount of damage” like video games have trained us to do and think about them as contextually relevant, you’ll have a better understanding of how and why certain weapons were relevant and how they gained prominence throughout history.

-Michi

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#how to fight write #michi answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #staff

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hyperactively-me · 1 year

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king!ghost x reader -- hand to hand, man to woman

In the days that followed the incident with Graves, Ghost’s concern for your safety only grew stronger. The memory of Graves’ disrespectful behavior towards you weighed heavily on his mind. One sunny morning, he approached you with a determined look in his eyes, his usual stoic demeanor tinged with a sense of urgency.

“Darling, I believe it's time for you to learn hand-to-hand combat and self-defense,” he began.

You raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled by the suggestion. “Hand-to-hand combat? Why would I ever need to learn that when we have countless guards and knights?”

Ghost's expression remained serious as he replied, "Listen, dove, I won't always be here to protect you, and having the guards around can only go so far. Learning self-defense is a crucial skill, one that could prove invaluable in times of danger.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “You should feel comfortable in your own home. I just want what’s best for you.”

Your initial reluctance slowly gave way to understanding, and you nodded thoughtfully. “Very well, teach me.”

. . .

Over the next several days, you embarked on a rigorous training regimen with Simon as your instructor. Each morning, before the day's responsibilities took hold, you met in a secluded training area within the palace grounds. Simon taught you the fundamental principles of self-defense, emphasizing agility, smarts, and knowing how to use your body's strength effectively.

You practiced various techniques, from simple strikes and blocks to more advanced moves like escaping holds. Simon was a patient and skilled teacher, always ensuring that you felt comfortable and confident in your abilities.

One day, at the end of one of your training sessions, Simon reached into his belt and retrieved a familiar knife, the same one you had seen the night before he proposed to you in your home kingdom.

He slid the knife into your hand, the cool metal a reassuring weight. “I want you to keep this,” he said softly. “This knife has always been with me, and now I want it to be a symbol of your safety. You should always feel safe, no matter where you are, even if I’m not with you.”

Touched by his gesture, you held the knife carefully, a tangible reminder of Simon’s dedication to your well-being. Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes as you held the knife close to your heart. You knew that he had always been by your side, watching over you, and this gift was a physical representation of his unwavering commitment to your safety.

“I'll cherish it forever,” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. You pulled Simon into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth and strength of his presence. “Thank you for always protecting me, Simon.”

Simon's fingers gently stroked your hair as he held you close. His voice was soft but filled with determination as he spoke, “It's something you'll never have to ask me for, dove. Remember that.”

In that moment, as you held the knife and embraced the man who had become your steadfast protector and loving husband, you felt an overwhelming sense of security and gratitude.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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that-fruitier-emo · 8 months

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I've been rewatching The Legend of Korra, and the most recent episode I watched was Operation: Beifong. Imagine being Kuvira. You woke up that morning intending to test your weapon of mass destruction, and then your prisoners escape. You are pretty evenly matched against one of the said prisoners. Then Toph fucking Beifong, the inventor of the bending technique your using comes. Immobilizes your soldiers AND MECH SUITS. Just to essentially tell you to go fuck yourself.

Part of why Kuvira was a good villain, was because she didn't engage with Toph. She knew if she fought Toph, that it was more than likely somebody's leaving in a body bag, and it wasn't gonna be 86 year old recluse who lives in a damn swamp.

Like, she knows not to start something if she's not confident she can finish it. And even if Toph planned to attack, she was prepared to stand her ground. But she WOULD NOT attack first, because that's what her combat strategy was. Getting them to attack her first so it wouldn't be unprovoked.

Because believe it or not, she was a really skilled earth bender.

And metal bender.

And I'm not going to sell her short by saying otherwise. And while both sides had the means to at they bare minimum defend themselves and escape, they were in a stalemate. Not because neither could advance, but because both parties knew better than to advance. So you had yourselves a good old fashion western stair down. They both knew getting into a fight would be unnecessary, and frankly a waist of both of their times, Kuvira knew deep down, if the fight took place.

She'd be getting her prime earthbending metal bending ass handed to her by a 86 year old woman who's been living completely cut off from society for the past 20-30 years.

(also, while looking for the first photo I found this and felt I should include it)

#legend of korra #avatar the last airbender #toph beifong #kuvira #lin beifong #suyin beifong #i swear the beifongs are jusy built different

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venerawrites · 6 months

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ship: sasuke x fem! reader

genre: fluff

sasuke is travelling around the shinobi world during the blank period and he falls in love with a shinobi from one of the smaller villages like, the hidden waterfall after going on missions with them and eventually after a few months of knowing them he confesses ☺️😉

Sasuke x fem! reader

author's note: Once I read the request, I immediately had a scenario forming in my head and the whole story kind of "wrote itself"! I feel I did move a bit from the original request, but I really hope you still enjoy it! <3 Thank you so much for your ask!

Warnings: none really (Sasuke may be a little bit ooc? idk, it's always hard to decide with him, isn't it?)

“Again.”

Taking a deep breath, your hands instinctively moved in front of your chest, forming the now way too familiar hand signs. Feeling a burning sensation forming in your stomach, you brought your hand up to your mouth, creating a cupping motion and exhaling a large wave of water from between your lips. One by one the targets across the wall opposite of you fell on the floor, unable to withhold the strong pressure of the water.

A thin wooden stick suddenly slapped you across the wrist, making you drop your hand with a wince.

“Again.”

Gritting your teeth, you repeated the action, spewing a large amount of water from between your lips, while twisting your body towards the right side of the room. Moving your aim across the wooden targets that stood in a row, you made sure to hit all five of them, before dropping your hand away. Turning towards your teacher, you slightly bowed your head, before clasping your hands in front of you.

Yakizo, the middle-aged woman who your family hired to be your teacher, looked at you with squinted eyes, before clicking her tongue and letting out a scoff.

“Hmph”, she walked around you, the end of the stick hitting the lower end of your waist, immediately straightening your posture,

“You are not fit for a fighter. Perhaps you should focus more on your healing studies.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, a strong metallic taste filling the inside of your mouth. The strong urge to snap back at the woman was making your fingers tremble and for a second you entertained the idea of unleashing your water wave jutsu directly at her always scowling face.

Your life has not always been like this.

Years ago, when your father was still among the living, you were trained alongside your brother Shibuki in various fighting techniques. But once he passed away and your sibling became the village head, everything changed. After drinking some of the Hero Water, Shibuki feared that his life span would shorten the same way it happened to your father, which would leave you as the only remaining member of the head family.

And that thought alone was enough for Shibuki to become paranoid and overly protective of you.

You were rarely allowed to go on missions and when you did - they were always lower-rank missions, way below your level of training and skills. Your lessons started to focus primarily on healing and medical ninjutsu, a decision made by Shibuki since "the village would benefit way more from having a highly-skilled healer, than another fighter".

When you refused to give up your fighting lessons, your brother decided to hire Yakizo to be the one teaching you. She was a bitter lady in her late 40s, who was a decent fighter, but a questionable tutor. She refused to let you practice anything more advanced than basic water release attacks and even then, she has always found something to critique.

"Lady Y/N", a voice called out. Both you and Yakizo turned towards the door, where a young male servant stood with his hands clasped behind his back, "Lord Shibuki request your presence."

Nodding your head, you turned towards your tutor, before laying your palms against each other in front of your chest and bowing respectfully. She never returned the gesture, instead clicking her tongue and twirling around, making her way towards the exit. You waited for a minute after her exit, before finally exhaling a breath of relief.

"Tough session, huh?", the servant asked, leaning against the door frame and smiling at you. You playfully rolled your eyes, before making your way towards him.

"Isn't it always, Suni?", you joked, exiting the room, "I don't understand why Shibuki insisted for her to be my teacher. I am pretty convinced she hates me."

Suni hummed in agreement, quickening his step so he could be beside you. Despite being from different social classes, both of you shared a strong friendship, which was formed early in your childhood days. Being the only person who knew the real dynamic of your strained relationship with your brother, he was also the only person you could fully relax and be open to.

"Perhaps this is exactly why he chose her", he said, tapping his index finger against his chin, "Maybe he hopes that since she is so awful, you are going to give up fighting altogether."

You snorted at his words, but you saw the logic behind them. And knowing Shibuki, it would not be surprising if that was his interior motivation for the choice.

"If it is going to make you feel better, I heard he is sending you on a mission", Suni said, bumping your shoulder playfully with his, "And this time it does not involve picking any fruits or vegetables."

A small spark of curiosity appeared in your eyes and you looked towards Suni, silently inviting him to say more. He, however, remained silent, choosing to move his gaze ahead instead.

"Are you not going to tell me more?", you pressed, leaning your head towards him, while trying to catch his eyes again. The way his face suddenly reddened and his eyes twitched in every direction but yours led you to believe that he knew more than he was letting on.

Fortunately for him, before you could enquire more, you both found yourself in front of the wooden sliding doors of the grand hall. Suni gave you a small apologetic smile, before sliding the door open.

"Lady Y/N", he announced your presence, before stepping aside and clearing a way for you to enter. Stepping inside, your eyes immediately fell on two male figures sitting opposite each other in the middle of the hall, one of which was your brother.

"Sister, welcome", Shibuki smiled and stood up, making his way towards you. You bowed your head towards him, before turning your attention to the other man. He remained seated with his head tilted down, calmly sipping from a small cup full of jasmine tea. His long raven locks fell in front of his face, blocking most of it from your view, but revealing enough for you to get an idea who he was.

"Please come meet our guest", Shibuki enthusiastically said, offering you his arm to grab, before he started making his way back to the centre of the hall. The man, who so far has not acknowledged your presence in any way, finally stood up, turning his head towards you. His onyx eyes met yours and for a second, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

Finally finding yourself in front of him, you politely bowed your head, patiently waiting for Shibuki to introduce you.

"I don't believe you met last time you were here", your brother said to the man, gesturing with his hand for all of you to sit down, "This is my sister, Y/N. One of the best medical ninjas in the village, despite being still in training."

You bit your bottom lip, biting down the urge to snap at your sibling. Instead, you choose to let a tight-lipped smile spread across your face, but you couldn't help the slight gritting of your teeth.

"This is Sasuke Uchiha", Shibuki continued, this time turning toward you, "He is a ninja from the Leaf Village, who kindly agreed to come here to help us with our current problem with the threats we received last week."

Sasuke's face remained stoic, his eyes focused on you. Unlike you, he did not offer any type of response or a greeting, instead choosing to take another sip of his tea, while his gaze remained boring into you.

"Very kind of him, indeed", you commented, refusing to give up in this little staring contest you found yourself in. You couldn't help but feel your body becoming more tense as time went on, a feeling of uneasiness setting deep inside your stomach. Not because of the foreign presence, but rather from the fact that you still did not have even the slightest idea of what Suni was talking about earlier.

"Right?", Shibuki brought his own cup to his lips, closing his eyes once the warm liquid made its way down his throat, "With allies like this, the people of Takigakure would have nothing to fear about."

"Forgive me my bluntness, brother", you said impatiently, your foot twitching nervously under the small table between you, "But what is the reason you have requested my attendance today? I assume it is not only so you introduce me to... your ally."

Before your brother can even open his mouth to reply, Sasuke's deep monotone voice sounded beside you:

"I need a guide."

"A guide?", your head snapped toward him, one of your eyebrows raising in a questioning manner.

"I need someone to be my guide during my time in the village", Sasuke calmly explained, his face remaining expressionless, "The threats you have received are made by a shinobi who, I suspect, are from the village. Their familiarity with the area is already to their advantage."

"I am afraid my duties do not involve providing tours to foreigners", you countered, your eyes squinting at him, before moving your gaze to Shibuki, "Brother, I told you that if you send me after them, I am fully capable to-"

"Enough!", your sibling's voice boomed, immediately silencing you, "Y/N, we already talked about this. You are not fit for fighting."

"But I am a shinobi! I just need a chance to prove myself and-"

"I SAID ENOUGH!", Shibuki's hands slammed on the table. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming his trembling body. It was a rare occasion for him to shout at you.

"You are to escort Sasuke during his time in the village. I believe you are going to be a good example of our village's hospitality and make sure he is feeling comfortable. You are going to accompany him to the neighbouring lands during the course of his investigation."

Your brother stood up from his chair, casting a quick glance at the clock on the wall opposite him. Nodding his head at the servants sitting in the corner of his room, he turned his attention back to the Leaf ninja.

"Please accept my apologies, Sasuke Uchiha", Shibuki's eyes quickly turned to glare at you, before they focused on the young male again, "I am afraid my sister sometimes forgets her lady manners and her place in this village. However, I believe she would be of great help in your pursuit of these criminals."

With those words, he bowed his head toward the man, before stepping aside and giving you one last warning look.

"Take Sasuke to his room and maybe for a walk around the village this afternoon", he commanded, before pointing his index finger at you, "And no fighting."

You reluctantly nodded your head, embarrassed that a foreign ninja became a witness to your little family row. Disagreements like this were not uncommon between you two, but so far they were rarely witnesses, and when they were, it was usually by people working at the Residence.

Once you were alone with the Uchiha, you took a deep breath, a polite fake smile forming on your lips.

"Well, then", you said, while getting up from your place, "I better take you to your room. Please follow me."

You turned on your heel and started walking, without waiting for him to get up. Your eyes met those of Suni, who gave you an apologetic look, before sliding the door open for you.

Walking through the corridors of the Residence, you had to look back a couple of times in order to make sure Sasuke was following you. He has remained silent the whole time, yet you could feel his gaze burning a hole in your back every time you faced away from him.

Finally arriving in front of a heavy wooden door, you grasped the handle and pushed it open, letting both of you inside. Quickly moving towards the window, you pushed the curtains aside, letting the daylight in.

"We are delighted to have you as our guest", the rehearsed words used for every guest made their way out of your mouth before you could even think about them, "I will be back later this afternoon, once you have a chance to rest. Meanwhile, if you need anything, a servant will be made available for you soon. You can let them know if you desire any food or refreshments."

Not waiting for a response, you started to make your way out, before his deep voice made you freeze in place.

"Your brother is right."

"I beg your pardon?", you turned towards him, waiting for him to elaborate. Sasuke was not even looking at you, instead focusing his attention on removing his cape and swords from his body. Your eyes fell briefly down his body, acknowledging how swiftly he worked his robe and weapon belt, despite having only one arm, but quickly made their way back to his face once he spoke again.

"These criminals are dangerous", he stated, grabbing his bag and starting to unpack it, "They have to be dealt with quickly and efficiently by a skillful shinobi, before they cause even more problems."

"I am a skillful shinobi", you protested, narrowing your eyes at him. Your fingernails pressed against your palms, a painful reminder that you were speaking to a guest and you had to hold your tongue behind your teeth.

"You said you were a healer", he looked at you, arching a brow. It happened just for a second, but you could've sworn that you saw the corner of his lip twitch upwards in what looked like a smirk. It disappeared as fast as it came, leaving his expression blank.

"Shibuki said I was a healer", you corrected, emphasizing your sibling's name. Sasuke hummed, looking you up and down, before focusing on unpacking his back again.

"And is he mistaken? Given your attire, I can already assume you are definitely not a fighter."

"Well, your assumption is wrong", the words came out more snarky than you intended, yet you did nothing to correct the way they sounded. Something about the way he was speaking irritated you - his tone, so calm and collected, sounded almost mocking in your ears. You couldn't help but feel judged by this stranger - whether it was because your brother has said something to him earlier or because he simply lacked a basic respect towards women - you did not know, but you did not like it.

Sasuke did not say anything else, instead letting out a low "hn" sound. He continued putting his clothes away, neatly arranging them by colour and size in the wardrobe. You stood in your place, following his movements with your eyes, before looking down at your dress. Technically, he was right that you were not dressed as a ninja - your long flowy light green kimono would be highly impracticable in a real fight, despite the fact you wore it during your basic training earlier. However, you felt unfairly judged, considering that you were at your own home, so of course you are not going to wear fighting attire.

Irritated by his earlier comment, you decided to bite back:

"You may have fooled my brother, Sasuke Uchiha", your voice came out low and sharp, "But the villagers, including myself, have not forgotten the terror you and your team of rogue ninjas have caused to our neighbours and allies. Do not mistake our hospitality for an opportunity to try and harm our village."

The words made Sasuke's movements halt for a while, his eyes glancing towards your through the thick curtain of raven hair covering half of his face.

"You have heard of me."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"We live in the Village Hidden by a Waterfall, not in a hole in the ground", you replied, turning towards the door again, "And even then, I believe your reputation would've found its way there too."

Before exiting you made sure to stop, giving him a chance to give you any sort of reply, which he did not. Instead, he remained silent, and after a minute of waiting, you heard him walking towards the wardrobe again, carefully arranging his stuff. Realising you won't get a response, you left the room and made your way back to the training grounds.

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

A few days have passed since Sasuke's arrival. Little words were exchanged between you, and when they were, they were primarily you explaining the layout of the village and him asking questions about the security around the area.

Being his guide was way more draining than expected. The large amount of time you spend in silence and his always blank expression soon started to bother you more than you'd expected. It was obvious that neither of you was thrilled with the other's presence, but you felt like you at least tried to pretend to be polite and appear unbothered. Something you couldn't say about him.

"He makes a lot of sounds", you complained one afternoon while sparring with Suni, "It is weird. It is like he has never interacted with another human being till this point! He just "hn"s and "mm"s all the time!"

The boy laughed, successfully blocking your swing towards his neck.

"You seem way too bothered about it", he commented, his smile dropping once you cast a harsh glare at him, "Just try to ignore him. I doubt this mission would last that long anyway."

You rolled your eyes, stepping away from Suni and wiping the sweat forming on top of your brow with the sleeve of your top. Taking this as a sign that the fight is over, he took a seat on one of the nearby rocks and passed you his pouch of water. Thanking him, you took it from his hands and took a large gulp of water.

"One mission this is", you mumbled under your breath, before taking a seat next to him, "I'm just walking the Uchiha around the village like he is on some type of holiday. Meanwhile, the threat to our village remains unresolved and my brother keeps holding me back."

Suni's eyes filled with sympathy and he laid one of his hands on your upper back, rubbing soothing circles.

"Shibuki just cares about you", he tried to reason, his words gentle and calm, "You are the only family he has left."

"As he is mine", you argued, turning your eyes towards your friend, " But I would never deprive him of the liberty of making his own choices. It's not fair! It is not right! There is a whole world out there I haven't even seen!"

You let out a sign, a feeling of guilt immediately washing over you. It was not Suni's fault for how you felt. And deep inside, you knew he was right - your sibling treated you the way he did, only because he was trying to protect you.

Sensing the way your body tensed, Suni wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards him and landing a comforting kiss on top your head.

"Lady Y/N", a cold voice sounded behind you, making you jump away from the boy and turn around. Dressed in his cape and holding his bag over his shoulder, Sasuke Uchiha's dark eyes stared intensely at you, not acknowledging Suni in any way.

"Sasuke", you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the idea that he may have heard your conversation. For how long was he sitting there?

"How can I help you?"

"I am leaving the village", he bluntly said, his eyes briefly moving to Suni and narrowing, before focusing back on you, "I believe I have all the information I need now."

You stood there silent for a while, both shock and confusion forming inside your mind. What was he talking about? What information? When did he even gather it, given for the past few days he was just silently walking around?

"I, um...", you opened your mouth, but quickly closed it again. You assume that you should have felt relief hearing his words, but for some reason, it never came.

Shaking your head, you offered him a tight-lipped smile, before moving towards him.

"That is great news", you said, your tone not matching the expected enthusiasm, "Please follow me. I will take you to my brother, before we provide you with enough food and coins for your journey."

Nodding your head to Suni as your "goodbye", you started walking towards the stairs of the Residence. You couldn't hear the Uchiha following you, but at this point, you have learned that he moved so silently, that it was impossible to hear his steps with the average human hearing. His long shadow, however, was an indicator that he was closely walking behind.

Your fingers were just reaching for the doors and about to open them when he spoke again:

"Come with me."

Your movements halted and you felt your breath hitched. Turning your head, you looked at him, sure that you have misheard him.

"Excuse me?"

"Come with me", he said again, this time taking a step closer, so he was towering over you, "We are leaving in an hour."

Opening your mouth, no sound came out, and you closed it again, before repeating. There was dozens of thoughts flooding your mind, yet none of them could make their way to your lips.

"I.. I can't! I have duties, I-", the words died on your lips and you suddenly felt unsure how to justify it.

"Duties of a 'healer', I know", the corner of his mouth twitched just a bit upwards, his expression suddenly looking almost humorous, "Your people seem to be of good health. I am sure they will manage a few weeks without you."

The mention of the word "healer" seemed to act like a switch for you and you managed to gather your composure. Your face hardening, you turned away again, grabbing the door handle one more time.

"It is not about that."

He hummed behind you, staying still.

"That's what you wanted, wasn't it? To finally have a chance?"

Closing your eyes, you nodded your head, before you let out a dry chuckle.

"I wish it was that simple", you mumbled, finally entering the building. Before you could make more than a few steps, however, a calloused hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you lightly backward. You turned around, ready to question him, but stopped once you noticed how close he was to you.

"It is that simple", he stated, his fingers finally releasing you. His eyes traced your face from your forehead to your lips, before they stopped at your own, "I can find my way to the grand hall. You go and pack your bag. I will see you at the gates in an hour."

Before you could protest, he started walking away with a hurried step, leaving you alone in the corridor with a choice.

Either to finally give yourself what you have been craving for all your life or willingly give it up once and for all.

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

There was either something genius about Sasuke Uchiha or something severely wrong about him.

There was no other explanation of how he convinced Shibuki to let you go with him outside the village and for an unspecified amount of time, on top of that. Either way, whatever tactic he used, he refused to share with you, instead saying that your sibling agreed straight away.

Surprisingly, Sasuke insisted on walking, saying that while it was a slower method of moving, it was a better way of caving your energy and chakra. The logic behind his decision was questionable, but you did not argue further, instead deciding to follow him. So far, he has failed to share any details about your pursuit of the criminals, other than both of you are heading towards the Hidden Stone Village.

Hour by hour, the sun was moving lower and lower towards the horizon, letting the forest around fall in darkness.

"We better find somewhere to rest. It is going to rain soon", he observed, looking up at the dark grey clouds that were slowly traveling your way. You followed his gaze, nodding your head, before looking around you. You were surrounded by trees and there was no sign of any caves or shelters, you could use as a cover for the night. Your trained ears, however, caught another sound.

"There is a river nearby", you stated, turning towards the sound of moving water, "We better set a camp there, so we can refresh in the morning."

Just like you suspected, just a few minutes walk away from where you stood, was a stream running in the middle of a small meadow. Wasting no time, you took your jacket off and started going around, collecting fallen branches, bark, leaves, and everything you considered necessary, in order to start building a short-term shelter for the night.

Sasuke watched you with interest, deciding to help you with some of the bigger branches, despite having one hand. While you knew that even like that, he was at least twice more capable of handling himself, you couldn't help but feel bad at his effort to felp.

"It's okay. I've got this."

He scoffed, ignoring your words and lifting some of the materials off your hands. You quickly dropped what you were carrying and grabbed the branches and bark back, while giving him a stern look.

"I said I've got this."

Sasuke looked at you in surprise and after a minute, he raised his hand in a defensive motion. Putting the branches on top of the pile on the ground, you again lifted all of the stuff, making your way towards the middle of the meadow.

"You have an attitude problem", he calmly stated, while watching you build the frame for your shelter. You couldn't help but let out an obnoxious snort, looking up at him with a small smirk on your lips.

"That is very rich coming from you", you mused, wrapping some of the branches together. Sasuke's eyes narrowed, but he remained quiet, knowing that you did have a point. He watched you for a while, before deciding to start unpacking some of the food and drinks you brought with you.

"You don't talk a lot", you decided to break the silence, still expertly working your hands at making a secure frame on top of which to lay the bark and leaves.

"I have nothing to say", he replied, his voice waving just the slightest at the end of his sentence. If you hadn't listened carefully, you would have missed it.

"That's usually said by people who have awful lot to say."

Sasuke didn't answer and you assumed that was the end of your short conversation. Lifting the wooden frame you managed to build, so it stands, you started to carefully put pieces of bark and leaves on top of it. Putting the last few ones, you felt the first water droplets landing on your skin.

Both you and Sasuke hurried under the shelter, escaping just by seconds the moment the rain intensified. The space was quite small and you had to sit extra close together, your shoulder and knee pressed against each other. While in any other scenario, you would feel quite uncomfortable by the close proximity, now your attention was solely focused on the raging weather outside.

The last time you left the village was before your father passed away. To you seeing the outside world again was almost like a surreal dream and you tried to engrave every single thing inside your mind, knowing that another chance like this may not present itself for a long time.

"I hate the rain", Sasuke suddenly said, bringing you back to reality. You snapped your head in his direction and before you could stop it, a loud "pfft" sound left your lips.

"How could anyone hate the rain?", a quiet chuckle left your lips and your eyes lifted towards the sky again. Rain was a rare occurrence in your village and definitely something that was admired by your people. It was believed that it carried good luck and prosperity.

"It brings bad memories", was all he said, his eyes staring at the distance. You raised your brow, expecting him to continue, but when you looked at him, he seemed lost in what you assumed was a painful memory lane.

Crawling on your knees, you exited the shelter, goosebumps covering your skin the moment the cold water drops hit your skin. Your hair immediately became drenched, sticking to the side of your face, but the small smile that started dancing on your lips hinted you are anything but bothered by it.

Your hand extended towards him, inviting him to take it.

"Come."

He looked at your hand with an unimpressed gaze, before lifting his gaze to your face and clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"Do you want to catch a cold? Come under."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward you, not hard enough to pull him completely outside, but enough for his sleeve to get wet.

"Are you insane? Now I am all-", his irritated rant got interrupted the moment you laid your fingers on top of his mouth, laughing at his sour expression.

"Is the great Sasuke Uchiha intimidated by some water drops?", you taunted, tugging his hand again, "Come on, stop being a coward."

"I'm not-", he started saying, before letting out a sigh. Gritting his teeth, he crawled after you, his eyes narrowing in annoyance once the water quickly made its way through his clothes and hair. Exhaling an angry breath of air through his nose, he glared at you.

"Happy? Now we are both drenched."

You shushed him with your finger, pulling him away from the shelter and towards the middle of the grass meadow. Once you were satisfied with the place, your dropped on your knees, pulling grumbling Sasuke down with you.

"What are you doing?", he sighed, reluctantly following your silent commands. Sasuke was not one to let someone drag him left and right but he knew there was no point in arguing with you, as it seemed you were just doing whatever you wanted, without real consideration of how he felt about it. He couldn't help, but question if taking you with him was really a good idea.

And then he felt it... a gentle touch brushing the sticky hair out of his face, exposing both of his eyes to you. His immediate reaction was to grab your hand and pull it away, but you slapped his fingers with you other hand before he could do so.

"Let them go."

His eyes widened, unable to move away from your own. The way you stared at him, full of hope and expectation, made his throat suddenly feel dry. Raindrops continue to fall on both of you and he could swear that the way they reflected the moonlight made you appear... almost ethereal. Almost like all of this was one strange dream, one he was not really sure he wanted to wake up from.

"You said the rain brings bad memories", you continued, blinking through the heavy drops falling on your face, "It is time to let it wash them away. Let them go."

He opened his mouth to reply but no words came out. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the vivid images of his bloody past flood his mind. They felt so real, he almost thought he was experiencing it all over again, the only thing reminding him of the reality being the warm feeling of your hands holding his hair away from his face.

He would never be able to explain what happened that night. Perhaps he was tired, or having a weird sensation due to the cold... But something has changed. When he woke up the next day, you were already up, cooking some fish for breakfast. Looking up at him, you smiled.

"Beautiful day, isn't?", you pointed up towards the shining sun, while inhaling the smell of fresh grass, "It's like the forest had a fresh life brought into it. Wouldn't be possible if the skies hadn't cried their tears last night, I'll tell you that."

And for the first time he had known you, he openly agreed with what you said.

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

You and Sasuke travelled for three months together. During this time you visited many different places, including his home village Konoha. He has not shared any details in your pursuit of the criminals threatening Takigakure, but you assumed that your long journey meant that they kept moving from place to place. It annoyed you that they always seemed to be one step ahead of you, but you used the opportunity to enjoy the scenery and experience the culture of nations, you have only read about in books.

During these months, both of you also grew closer, and you were surprised to get to know the man who was hiding behind this emotionless mask he presented to the outside world. What you thought to be a selfish and arrogant ninja, turned out to be a deeply wounded and hurt individual, who continued to seek its place in this world. He shared with you what happened to his clan, his raging teenage years, spent seeking revenge, as well the truth he learned from his brother during their final battle. He talked you through his journey of change and his ultimate decision to travel the world in an attempt to atone for his sins.

You, on the other hand, had far less to share with him about yourself but still did open up about your dream to be a fighter, your strained relationship with your brother, and the heavy burden you felt growing up in a society where women were expected to act and behave in a certain way.

"Sometimes I'm sick of being Lady Y/N", you shared one day, while you were walking through the woods, "Sometimes I want to be just Y/N."

Sasuke hummed at your words. One thing that hasn't changed is his preference to make noises, rather than use words.

"There is nothing wrong with being both", he finally said after a minute, and you clicked your tongue, before crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"But I don't want to be both", you huffed, annoyed that he couldn't just agree with you and instead wanted to counter your point, "I don't want to sit in pretty dresses and practice medical jutsus all day long. I want to fight for my people and protect them! I want to be a warrior."

Your words made the man stop in his place, turning toward you with unreadable expression. Staring into your eyes for what feel like couple long minutes, he finally lifted his hand towards your head, before flicking you on the forehead with his middle finger.

"Ow!"

He let out a low chuckle, something you have heard only once since you've met him, his expression looking amused, while yours seemed annoyed.

"There are far too many warriors there, damaging the world", he said, before pausing for a minute, looking up at the sky, "and far too few, who can heal it."

Your lips twitched sideways, brows lifting in surprise at his sudden wisdom. Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you continued walking down the forest path,

"The most I've fixed is a broken wrist of a child", you admitted, grumpily, "The truth is that our ninjas do not get assigned a lot of missions, therefore they do not get hurt. So my healing record is just as bad as my fighting one."

"You healed me."

Those words made you stop in place. So far you've indulged only in two fights and Sasuke managed to handle both of them pretty much by himself without even a scratch on his body. So what was he talking about?

"What?"

He took a few steps towards you, stopping right in front of your face. You were not sure if the sunset was casting it's light into his pale skin or if it was a result of some other optical illusion, but there was the slightest hint of rose colour covering his cheeks.

"You are the most stubborn, impulsive, impatient, and assertive woman I know. You also have a massive attitude problem", he said and you felt your jaw drop. Was he serious right now? Clutching your fists next to your body, your eyes narrowed and were ready to fight back, before he continued:

"And believe me, I know a lot of women with attitude. Yours is unmatched so far."

Pushing him on the chest, you managed to make him stumble a step back, while you got directly in his face. With cheeks and ears reddened from the blood boiling beneath your skin, you were unsure where his sudden passive aggression was coming from, but if he was seeking a fight, he was going to get one.

"Yeah? Well, that's funny, considering you are the most arrogant man- Hmpf!"

Sasuke's hand covered your mouth and he smirked seeing the rage behind your eyes, while shaking his head.

"See? Too impatient", he said, before moving his hand and flicking you on the forehead once again, "It is this tough personality and behaviour, that is often too much to handle, that makes you the woman I admire and respect so much. You showed me what is really important and taught me how to let go of the past... past which has been haunting me for years and which heaviness I believed I was destined to carry for years."

The beating of your heart suddenly increased, loudly drumming against your ribcage. A warm feeling spread inside your stomach, making your muscles tense. You loudly gulped, bringing your hands up to move his palm away from your mouth. He let you do it, relaxing at the feeling of your warm touch.

"Are you saying..."

He nodded.

"I am saying that during these past three months, you made me feel and experience things I have never before. Seeing the world through your eyes felt like... it felt like I was seeing it for the first time too", he moved his glance sideways, focusing on the little white flowers poking out of the grass next to you, "You have brought a fresh life into my existence."

You stayed silent, your brain taking some time to process his words. Sasuke's hand became tense in your hold, a sign of his anxiousness as a result of your lack of response. He was about to pull it away when your fingers dipped into his skin, a small playful smile playing on your lips.

"Say it."

"Say what?", he looked at you confused.

"Say "I like you.""

"I've literally just did that", he deadpanned and you rolled your eyes, tugging him close to you by his arm. Pushing your face into his again, you tried to ignore his musky smell, instead focusing on remaining a serious expression.

"You didn't say it directly, you just hinted at it", you pointed out as a matter of fact, tilting your head to the side, "I want to say it directly."

"No."

"Coward."

You stepped away with a smile, but before you could pull your hand, he laced his fingers with you, before starting to walk again. His expression and attitude seemed completely nonchalant, but the slightest blush covered the side of his cheeks, neck, and ears. You smirked a little, deciding it is enough teasing for now and giving him a light squeeze with your fingers, while continuing your journey through the woods.

"I like you too."

"I know", he said, his voice giving away the small smile on his lips. Clicking your tongue, you slapped him playfully on the shoulder, before your eyes widened.

"Wait a minute...", you stopped in your tracks, noticing the waterfall in the distance, "We are back home."

"We are", he confirmed, seemingly unphased by the fact you were back to the Village Hidden by a Waterfall, completely empty-handed. Not only you did not capture any of the rogue ninjas that threatened your home, but you didn't seem to have made a lot of progress in finding who they were during the few months you were away.

Running in front of him, you laid your hand on his chest, stopping him from continuing forward.

"Wait", you panted, your brain erratically thinking of what you should do, "We can't go back. We have not found those ninjas yet, we-"

"They have been in prison for months now", he interrupted you, "We captured them on the morning of the day we left."

Your mouth fell open and you tried to pull your hand away from his grasp, but he held it firmly. Unable to control yourself, you slapped him on the chest with your free one, emphasizing each word with each hit:

"You. Tricked. Me!"

Sasuke pulled you forward, using the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulder and press you against his chest, stopping your movements.

"I didn't trick you", he defended himself, "I said I was leaving because I had all the information I needed, which I did. I knew who the rogue ninjas were and I left Shibuki to deal with their punishment."

You relaxed in his embrace, processing what he said. So the whole time while you thought you were chasing some genius criminals... you were just travelling from place to place?

"The day we left... You said there is a whole world out there you haven't even seen", his words brought you back to the day you sat in the gardens, complaining to Suni, "I wanted you to have that."

His words soon started to fade away and your focus shifted to the sound of his heartbeat. Your arms, which were limply hanging down, slowly moved around his waist, pressing him against you as a silent "thank you". Your eyes set at the horizon, following the shapes of the dark clouds forming in the distance.

"It's going to rain."

His chin gently relaxed on top of your head.

"I like the rain."

cc artwork: Arthur Zima

#sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader #sasuke imagine #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #sasuke fanfic #naruto imagines

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 24 days

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1969 Holden Hurricane Concept

Holden has gone back to the future, restoring its very first concept car - the 1969 Holden Hurricane Concept.

The futuristic research vehicle described as an experiment "to study design trend, propulsion systems and other long range developments" has been restored to its former glory as a labour of love by a dedicated group of Holden designers and engineers.

Code named RD 001; the Holden Hurricane is a mid-engined, rear-wheel drive, two-seater sports car which incorporates a remarkable array of innovative features and technology, much of it way ahead of its time.

Features such as electronic digital instrument displays, station-seeking radio, automatic temperature control air conditioning, rear vision camera and an automated route finder were all showcased in this ground-breaking vehicle 42 years ago. Many of these technologies have only recently made their way into mass production, demonstrating Holden's remarkable foresight into both design and engineering technology.

The Holden Hurricane stole headlines and dropped jaws nationwide when it debuted at the 1969 Melbourne Motor Show.

Michael Simcoe, Executive Director GMIO Design, said it was fantastic to see such a significant vehicle restored.

"At Holden we have always prided ourselves on our ability to look into the future through our concept cars," Mr Simcoe said.

"It's amazing to think that the features we take for granted today were born out of creative minds over 40 years ago."

As its code name suggests, the RD 001 was the first product of the GMH Research and Development organisation, staffed by a small squad of engineers working in conjunction with the Advance Styling Group at the Fishermans Bend Technical Centre in the 1960s.

The team that designed and built the original Holden Hurricane employed some advanced technologies and techniques when it came to the powertrain. Powered by an experimental 4.2-litre (253 cubic inch) V8, this engine was a precursor to the Holden V8 engine program which entered production in late 1969.

The Holden Hurricane's V8 engine featured many advanced design components such as the four-barrel carburettor - a feature which wouldn't be seen on a production 253ci Holden V8 until the late 1970s. The end result was approximately 262hp (193kW), a towering power output in 1969 and one that ensured the Holden Hurricane had the go to match its show.

But perhaps the two most innovative features were the "Pathfinder" route guidance system and the rear-view camera.

The "Pathfinder", essentially a pre-GPS navigation system, relied on a system of magnets embedded at intersections along the road network to guide the driver along the desired route. A dash-mounted panel informed the driver of which turn to take by illuminating different arrows, as well as sounding a warning buzzer.

The rear-view camera was also a ground-breaking innovation.

Engineers using a Closed Circuit Television (CCTV) system with a camera mounted in the rear bumper feeding vision to a small black-and-white TV mounted in the centre console.

Former Holden Chief Studio Engineer Rick Martin led the modern-day Hurricane team in researching the vehicle's components, systems and history in order to restore it.

"There are some genuinely remarkable ideas and technology in the Hurricane," said Mr Martin.

"From the automatic air-conditioning and magnet-based guidance system, to the inertia-reel seat belts and metallic paint, this was a car that was genuinely ahead of its time.

"The hand-picked team of engineers and designers who built the original Holden Hurricane worked in strict secrecy and began Holden's now proud tradition of ground-breaking concept cars."

RD 001 stands just 990mm high and has no doors in the conventional sense. A hydraulically-powered canopy opens upwards and forward over the front wheels, combined with twin "astronaut type" power-elevating seats which rise up and pivot forward, along with the steering column for ease of access. Occupants are then lowered to a semi-reclining position before the roof closes over them.

The wind tunnel-tested fibreglass body consists of three segments; the canopy, the engine hood and body shell and was finished in an experimental aluminium flake-based metallic orange paint.

Safety innovations included a foam-lined fuel tank, integrated roll-over bar, digital instrument readouts, ignition safety locks, interior padding and a fire warning system.

The project to restore RD 001 began in 2006 and has been a genuine labour of love for some very dedicated Holden employees. The entire restoration process has been driven primarily by volunteer labour from Holden designers and engineers in their spare time.

But the Hurricane first entered Holden Design in less than immaculate condition. RD 001 had a residency in a trade school where apprentices practised their welding on the priceless concept.

After being returned to Holden in 2006, the Hurricane restoration project has taken many thousands of painstaking man hours to lovingly restore RD 001 to concourse condition.

Holden's Manager for Creative Hard Modelling, Paul Clarke, has been largely responsible for managing the restoration of RD 001. He ensured as many of the original parts as possible have been used or remade using modern techniques to 1969 specification, in order to preserve the authenticity of this hugely important Holden.

"The entire team has done a fantastic job in bringing this beautiful concept back to life," Mr Clarke said.

"The talent we have within the Holden organisation is simply outstanding. Every time we take on a project I'm constantly amazed by the passion and talent in this company, making it a genuine pleasure to work on these projects.

"The Hurricane plays a crucial role in Holden's story and the company has such a great sense of history and heritage that it was very important to bring RD 001 back to life. It's been a challenging but incredibly rewarding process."

Since the debut of the Holden Hurricane Concept in 1969, Holden has continued to build a global reputation for envisioning and executing world-class concept vehicles. Holden is recognised globally within General Motors as a centre of excellence for concept vehicle and show car development and is one of only three GM design studios that is capable to design and build concept cars.

Michael Simcoe added that the Hurricane holds a particularly special place in Holden's history as it kick-started Holden's long love affair with concepts that has since seen the likes of the iconic GTR-X, Torana TT36, Coupe 60, the GMC Denali XT (which was requested specifically by GM for the North American market) and the award-winning Efijy.

Holden Hurricane Concept (1969)

#Holden Hurricane Concept #Holden Hurricane #Hurricane #car #cars #Holden

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quickmetals · 2 months

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Emerging Materials in Metal Processing: Beyond the Conventional

The constant quest for better, stronger, and more versatile materials has led the metal processing industry into a new era of innovation. Emerging materials, from advanced alloys to metal matrix composites, are opening up possibilities for applications that were once thought impossible.

Spotlight on Emerging Materials:

High-Entropy Alloys (HEAs): These novel alloys, made from five or more elements in equal or near-equal proportions, offer exceptional strength, durability, and resistance to wear and corrosion.

Metal Matrix Composites (MMCs): Combining metals with ceramic or carbon fibers, MMCs provide a unique balance of lightweight and high strength, ideal for aerospace and automotive applications.

Shape Memory Alloys (SMAs): Known for their ability to return to their original shape after deformation, SMAs are finding uses in medical devices, aerospace, and robotics.

Advantages and Challenges:

Enhanced Properties: These materials offer superior mechanical and thermal properties, opening up new engineering possibilities.

Sustainability: Some emerging materials can be produced with less energy or from more abundant resources, offering a path to more sustainable manufacturing.

Processing Complexity: The advanced properties of these materials often come with challenges in processing, requiring innovative techniques and technologies.

Conclusion

The exploration of emerging materials in metal processing is not just about pushing the boundaries of science and engineering. It’s about reimagining what’s possible in technology, transportation, and even daily life. As we continue to uncover the potential of these materials, the future of metal processing looks brighter and boundlessly innovative.

Original content: https://quickmetals.com/emerging-materials-in-metal-processing-beyond-the-conventional/

#Innovative Metal Materials #Advanced Manufacturing Techniques #Metal Processing Innovations #Next-Gen Metal Alloys

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tellmeallaboutit · 7 days

Text

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 15, In Which You Dance Twist With Mr. Goat (Pulp Fiction Style)

AO3

TAGS: self-harm, sharp objects, glass, politics

There was a time, not so long ago, when you were terrified of flying.

The mere thought of that huge metal thing plummeting from the sky for no apparent reason (well, the human factor. It's always the human factor), a minute of sheer terror, descent, and then boom.

No survivors.

No bodies ever recovered.

You used to fear situations that so brazenly took control away from you.

Well, you were wrong; there was something strangely comforting about letting go; about snuggling up in the plush comfort of an oversized leather seat, scrolling through messages on your phone to the roar of the twin engines.

Raphael's hand was always on your knee, his tail wrapped tightly around your ankle, as if you could escape him on the private jet - or off it. A black diamond ring on your finger sparkled in the sunlight filtering through the oval windows.

Across from you sat Camilla, while Jens occupied the far corner seat. Yurgir was conspicuously absent; you didn't pry into his reasons, just assumed his size exceeded the weight limit of any aircraft.

A headline in the Daily Mirror caught your eye: "Who is Anya Berger? What do we know about the mysterious girl who won the heart of a billionaire in ten days?"

What do they know, you wondered and clicked.

"Walk me through the panels again," Raul asked. "And the key people to talk to."

"Morning is boring," Korilla replied. "Mental health crisis, supply chain disruptions, sustainability regulations. You start in the afternoon, sir: your first is the AI discussions with the UN Secretary General's Special Envoy for Technology."

"I won't say a word about this soulless drivel," Raphael said, skimming through the agenda.

Camilla choked on her coffee while Jens flinched at her sudden movement, his hand swiftly resting on the gun now.

"Mr D'Avergni, Avernus' portfolio is 15% invested in AI technologies," she said as soon as she collected herself. "What do you mean 'soulless nonsense'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I will not say a word about these abominable technologies. I have been made privy to information that they are cannibalising art and I will not stand for it".

"Where did you hear this nonsense?" whispered Camilla. "Tumblr? Anya? Is that your doing?"

"I'm totally against AI," you interjected, without looking up from your phone, engrossed in the news article about your grunge heroin chic and manic-girl attitude.

They recommended black nail polish, drawing dark circles under your eyes and perfecting the look of total derangement to repeat your success. There were also some advanced blowjob techniques at the bottom of the article.

"What is this panel 'Securing an Insecure World'?" asked Raphael. "I quite fancy the name."

"Sir, it has nothing to do with you. This is the macroeconomic panel on the dying middle class, youth problems, inequality, blah blah blah. Fear-mongering."

"Fear-mongering?" said Raphael. "I seem to have found my stage."

Camilla closed her eyes and put on her best smile. The flight attendant glided by in her pressed uniform and replaced your coffee; you were momentarily struck by the amount of cleavage she was showing as your eyes glanced upwards.

To see very familiar eyes and a smile. Haarlep put a finger to her lips and gave you a little wink. You smiled back.

"Sir," Camilla said gently. "It doesn't work that way. You can't just speak whenever and about whatever you want in a global forum. It's all scripted, all pre-written."

"Astute observation," said Raphael. "Scripted conversations, scripted problems, scripted solutions, no room for improvisation. Davosneeds a breath of fresh air. Of honesty. Of a genuine hope for change".

Camilla said, "Of course, sir," and forced a smile.

Back to the article: did they really get your ex-boyfriend to give an interview about you? Did he have anything good to say, that bastard who regularly forgot to flush the toilet?

Yes, he had plenty to say, mostly about you being not right in the head. You put him on your hit list and stroked Raphael's tail, which in turn stroked your ankle. They even got your mum on the phone, who thankfully had nothing much to say except that you were a good Catholic girl.

You saw some frantic movement out of the corner of your eye.

Camilla was waving you over to the plane's galley. You tried to get up, but were stopped by a tail wrapped around your ankle like a boa constrictor. "May I go to the toilet?" you asked, and Raphael uncoiled his tail, three times, with a slight reproach in his eyes. Jens did his best to keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Camilla pulled you deeper into the galley. She smelled of fresh coffee and burnout.

"Anya, listen, I am very sorry that it has to come to this, but just between us girls..." she said, her fingers fidgeting with her diamond necklace. "Did Raul remember to take his medication today? I don't like his mood”. She shifted on her feet. "God, I miss the days when you could smoke in these things”.

"I'm not his doctor," you shrugged.

"Well, maybe it would be worth reminding him," Camilla drawled. "I'd rather not see viral videos of him committing political suicide in Davos. And I'm sure you'd agree."

You weren't so sure.

"I'm not going to poke the devil, and I suggest you don't either," you said, leaning against the galley counter.

Camilla sighed and gave you a very sympathetic smile.

"Anya, may I give you some friendly advice? Raul may seem like a half-god to you, but I've seen him curled up in a ball sobbing about how Daddy never loved him when he was high as a kite on coke. He's... as human as the rest of us. For better and worse”.

Just then, the plane shook violently, sending you both clutching the walls for support. The pilot quickly apologized over the intercom.

"Don't patronise me, Korilla," you said. "Do you think I'm just some pathetic, love-struck girl Raul likes to abuse?"

Camilla paused for a moment before suppressing a grin. "I'm going to invoke my right against self-incrimination. So tell me, my dear: who are you really?"

"Much more than meets the eye." You straightened up, standing slightly taller than her (which was not difficult). "I'm the one who gave him all this power in the first place."

"Wow," Kamilla snorted out in surprise. "Wow. Okay. Cool. Never mind."

"You need proof?" you said quietly.

"Not really," she said.

"I wish you would get down on your knees and kiss my hand."

"What?" Kamilla burst out laughing. "Maybe you should share your medicine with Raul. Ask Dr Bambauer for a family discount. He will be at Davos, by the way, speaking on the mental health crisis".

"I wish for you to kiss my hand," you insisted. "Come on, do it, I have a point to prove."

You really need to learn how to calibrate these things. This one worked, though; she complied, sinking to her knees before you, a wild look in her eyes. Then she planted a surprisingly gentle kiss on your palm, leaving a crimson mark.

"What the hell?" she whispered as she looked up at you. Raphael was engrossed in his paperwork, oblivious to the scene, so was Jens.

"See, Korilla," you started again after letting the moment hang awkwardly in the air for longer than necessary, "don't worry about Raphael talking nonsense. You'd be surprised how many people eat it up."

"Who the fuck is Raphael?"

"Your new boss," you said. "Well, old boss actually. Ahh... you won't really notice much of a difference; I hardly do myself sometimes," you lowered your voice to a minimum. "But don't tell them that, they'll get angry. You can get up now, this is getting a bit weird."

She tried to say something, her lips barely moving. You think it was 'how'. She was asking ‘how’.

"You see," you said. "The devil thinks I am very, very special”.

Having said that, you came back to your seat. Raphael's tail immediately darted to your ankle and wrapped around it. You leaned back in your chair and watched Haarlep flirting with the pilot out of the corner of your eye.

It would be really stupid to crash because Haarlep wanted to have a quickie in the cockpit. The plane began its descent to Samedan St Moritz airport. The rugged Swiss Alps came into view out the window, snow-capped peaks glistening in the afternoon sun.

***

When you book a presidential suite you no longer have to check in, you can just walk straight past the reception. The hotel was a mountain resort so exclusive that the website was just an artistic photo with no way to reserve a room.

Raphael was eerily calm as he watched the staff unpack your belongings. His calm demeanour lasted until some poor sap nearly wrinkled his suit while trying to hang it in the en-suite cloakroom. A deafening growl sent the trembling fellow scuttling from the room.

The rest were given very generous tips.

Soon after, you found Raphael rehearsing his speech in a mirror, repeating the same phrases three times in a row, "when youth was told their souls were worthless, easily replicated by machines". Each time he spoke, there was a subtle change in tone, as if he was trying to capture some emotion - you were not quite sure what he was getting at - was he trying to imitate genuine concern?

If so, he could work on his delivery.

He gave it another shot, the tension in his back muscles evident through his shirt.

"Excellent choice of attire, gattina," he gave you a look you approached. "Might I suggest an improvement? Not these trousers. The black pencil skirt with the white vertical stripes, the Saint Laurent one from the spring collection."

"It looks absurd on me," you looked away. "I don't have the body for it."

"You have the body for anything," he said. "Don't debate me on this. Slip into the skirt, return here and see how right I am”.

That damned skirt was a nightmare: so constricting that any wrong move felt like a tear waiting to happen; clearly designed by someone who either had never laid eyes on an actual woman or harbored a deep-seated resentment towards anyone the wrong size and proportion, which would be everyone.

Yet somehow, you managed to wriggle yourself into it and made your way back to him.

"Now that's what I want to see," Raul smiled. "A beautiful woman and all mine."

"It's two sizes smaller than what I wear".

"Come closer, you silly creature, and grasp how breathtaking you are."

He tugged you towards the full-length mirror and swept your hair to one side so that you could take in your entire reflection.

Only it wasn’t yours.

When you played Sims and tweaked the controls to create the ideal you, you ended up with someone like this. Every trait similar to what you had, only better. A lot better. Smoother skin, better hair, smaller waist, perkier tits.

"They will see you through my eyes," Raphael said as his hands slid under your blouse and cupped your breasts. "These mortals will seethe with jealousy, envying me for having you and you for having me."

The woman in the mirror looked like someone Raphael would choose to be his consort. The skirt looked perfect, as it was tailor made just for you.

"That’s not me," you said, mesmerized by the eerie reflection.

"Nonsense. You didn't know who you truly were until you met me," he whispered in your ear. "If it's not you I'm putting my arms around, why would you feel them?"

You felt his palms squeeze your breasts and roll your nipples between his fingers. His lips brush your neck. His growing bulge against your backside.

"Now would you be so kind?.." he asked.

You could swear the woman in the mirror was bending over before you did, eagerly offering herself, sliding her panties down to her knees and placing her palms on either side of the mirror for leverage. His hands kneaded your buttocks, spreading you apart as his erection pressed against your entrance.

Foreplay wasn't on his agenda, you realized with a shiver. True enough, he penetrated you with a single thrust. First sharp pain, then the very familiar pleasure, liquid and pitch black and all-consuming.

"Look," he said. "Look at yourself. Look at me. Marvel at what you see."

The woman in the mirror moaned in response, pleasure etched on her face as the devil behind her ravaged. Her features twisted and blurred in ever-changing motion, skin wobbling like waves of water; she was shifting between all the women you ever dreamed of being - one moment Tav, then Christine, then Sarah Williams.

"It's not real," you moaned.

His eyes remained fixed on the mirror the whole time he fucked you. You arched backwards into him, grinding against him with each thrust, skin slapping against skin.

"There is no reality," he whispered back. "Other than what you see in that mirror”.

His thrusts came harder now, jolting you against the cold glass. The woman in the mirror seemed to have gone insane from how well she was being fucked, her face twisted in a barely human grimace of bliss.

"Climax," he commanded with a snap of his fingers.

You saw the woman in the mirror go limp in his arms, a look of absent bliss on her face, and then remember that the woman was you. A jagged sound ripped from you. Your body responded to the command like a dog thrown a biscuit; your cunt tightened around his cock once.

Twice.

The woman in the mirror morphed again; now it’s someone you’d seen a thousand times, the weird pale girl nobody ever gave a second look.

You.

Thrice.

The mirror you were propped against shattered - spectacularly so, its razor-sharp fragments raining down like confetti.

"Hang on," you managed to gurgle out in sheer terror as you tumbled, losing your balance. "Raphael, hold on..."

He didn't. Instead, he let gravity take over and you fell face-first into the broken mirror below, his weight following right after. Your scream of pleasure morphed into a wail of agony as countless tiny shards opened up on your skin; mutilating, cutting, obliterating.

oh god it hurts

Raphael groaned as he drove you deeper and deeper into the jagged fragments, your writhing and screaming doing nothing to deter him. The shards under your skin thrust in and out with each thrust, piercing right through you, through your face.

oh god it hurts; pulsated the single thought. The pain was nothing like you had felt before; it was the clearest sensation your clouded mind had ever processed.

A growing pool of blood spread like spilled wine on the white marble tiles beneath you. You closed your eyes tightly, but that didn't make the blood disappear. You blinked them open again... then closed them...

Blood was still there. Raphael thrust once, so hard there wasn’t a single shard left that didn’t hurt you.

Twice.

Three times, and he came inside you, spitting curses in Italian between ragged breaths.

The pain suddenly vanished as if snapped away by his fingers; but its ghostly memory kept your tears flowing.

"I swear to God, kitten" Raul murmured as he rolled off you, "the way you're screaming would make anyone think I'm murdering you."

You opened your eyes and stared at the perfectly white tiles.

No blood.

No shards. No cuts. No pain.

Nothing. You looked up in the mirror: the Gorgeous Version of You looked back. You looked down on yourself.

Exactly how you always wanted to be.

You laughed in blissful abandon. Then, you rolled onto your back, catching sight of Raul's gobsmacked expression which made you laugh even harder.

read the rest on ao3

#knock knock #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3

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macbethsymphony · 3 months

Text

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 20

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 4.5k

Chapter rating: NSFW-ish

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut, vague mentions of past abuse

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 20: Scars

Roronoa Zoro's patience was wearing thin. For days now, he had been locked in a relentless struggle, battling against the stubborn resistance of the black steel that had been entrusted to him. With a furrowed brow, he scrutinized the swirling patterns of the cursed blade in his hands, attempting to summon the same techniques you had demonstrated to him.

As his haki surged forth, seeking to assert its dominance over the rebellious metal, Zoro felt a twinge of irritation building within him. He had to remind himself—kindness, reassurance. But the steel seemed to mock his efforts, its resistance growing stronger with each passing moment.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, the frustration evident in his voice. His haki faltered, its once steady advance now stalling in the face of the sword's defiance.

He was close, he could feel it.

He let the blade clatter to the deck, the metallic sound echoing loudly. Seating himself in front of it, he released an exasperated sigh, his annoyance palpable in the morning air. Running a hand through his unruly hair, he couldn't help but glance towards the door of the forge, subconsciously searching for your form.

Shiawase had been so much like you—stubborn, abrasive, though with a certain resilience that was hard to ignore. But this sword was different. It exuded a strange mixture of longing and fear, almost as if it yearned to be wielded yet recoiled at any hint of command.

You’d told him it was an echo of who you’d been. It made him wonder what happened to you to change so much.

His fingers wrapped against the silk of the handle, his haki extending in as slow an advance he could muster.

Kindness.

The term resounded in his mind like a distant memory, a notion he struggled to grasp. He had always been more familiar with the language of steel and battle, where actions spoke louder than words.

Reassurance.

Even worse than kindness, it seemed foreign to him, a concept reserved for those who understood the nuances of empathy and compassion.

He saw you move in the periphery of his vision. His head snapped towards you instinctively, drawn by the unmistakable storm of your haki swirling in the air like an electric charge.

The sight of you, wreathed in the crackling lightning of your power, was mesmerizing to him. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of it, a spectacle that never failed to captivate his attention. It was a force of nature, raw and untamed, a technique that eluded his grasp despite his best efforts to understand it.

As your hammer echoed loudly against the blackened steel of the dagger that consumed your psyche, Zoro's gaze lingered on you, a mixture of admiration and frustration flickering in his mind.

His eye traced the contours of your form, hovering on the gentle curves that drew his attention like a magnet. His fingers twitched involuntarily, all thoughts of Uragiri fading into insignificance.

The memory of your touch flooded his mind, igniting a fire inside him that he struggled to contain. The sensation of soft flesh yielding beneath the inquisitive exploration of his hands danced at the edge of his consciousness, a vivid recollection that stirred something primal deep within his being.

His eye drifted to the delicate expanse of your nape, where a few stray curls peeked out from under the linen cloth, clinging to the perspiration-dampened skin beneath. The sight ignited a whirlwind of memories within him, each flashback vibrant and intoxicating.

He recalled the taste of you, a heady blend of alcohol and desire that lingered on his tongue long after you had parted. The souvenir of your compliance, your willingness to yield to his every command, the sound of your soft moans as his fingers had tangled roughly in your hair. It sent a shiver down his spine, a scorching heat of lust.

He groaned.

Fuck.

He pried his gaze away, struggled to come back to reality. His eye traced the sharp edge of Uragiri.

Kind. Reassuring. He could do that.

Your brows furrowed. You were close. Oh, so very close to destroying that dagger. You’d taken a note from the swordsman’s approach. Fuck subtlety, you could overpower it to the point of destruction.

You allowed your haki to roar as forcefully as it could. The power felt intoxicating, on the verge of swallowing your mind. You hadn’t let out this much haki since you’d forged Yokubari, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of giving away your own life force. But, in this moment, you didn’t care.

You watched with keen eyes as your hammer clanged on the cursed blade. Black filaments scaled away slowly, revealing the vulnerability beneath the surface.

Good.

It was starting to break down.

With each strike, exhaustion threatened your muscles. You’d been at this for days now, the toil of the endeavor was beginning to take a toll on you. Yet, you continued to rain blow upon blow on the steel, determination to set it free unwavering.

With a loud clang, the blade broke.

It wasn’t entirely unbound of its torment yet, but it still brought a smile to your face.

You grabbed at the small broken piece with heavy tongs, throwing it in the burning coals in a practiced movement. Your eyes widened as you watched the steel melt.

A thunderous ‘yes’ escaped your lips in victory as you observed the black tendrils of haki dissipate in the hungry flames.

A triumphant grin spread on your features as you reveled in the moment of success. A surge of adrenaline passed through your veins, deceptively washing away the tiredness in your limbs. With renewed vigor you went back to your work, ready to be done with the ordeal once and for all.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the deck of the Thousand Sunny into darkness, when you finished melting the dagger. You wished you weren’t so tired, wished the exhaustion in your muscles would dissipate for a moment, wished you could revel on your accomplishment with more fervor. The gentle sway of the ship and the sound of the waves against its hull provided a soothing rhythm as you made your way to the bathing area with a satisfied smile on your lips. With each step, you left a black cloud of dust on the floor. Nami would effectively throw you overboard if you tried to enter the women’s quarters this covered up in soot.

You walked in the small room in a daze, lazily turning the handle for hot water. With a tired sigh, you began to undress, folding your clothes neatly in the nearby cubbies. You snorted to yourself as you eyed the blackened fabric, wondering why you bothered. It was a habit you guessed.

The hazy glow of the lanterns cast soft shadows across the walls, creating an atmosphere of cozy intimacy as you sat on a wooden bench. You washed your hair, the water turning dark and murky as it descended down the drain. The warm stream cascaded your body getting clearer and clearer as you diligently scrubbed at your ash ladened skin. It didn’t matter how many layers of clothing you wore, the dirt always found a way to cling to the stickiness of sweat covered flesh.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching nor the loud clang of swords in the changing area. Just as you stepped into the bubbly water of the bath, the door swung open, pulling you out of your reverie.

You tensed in surprise as you realized you weren't alone. Zoro paused in the doorway, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of shock before quickly averting his eye.

"Sorry, I didn't realize anyone was here," he muttered, his voice low and gruff, turning away to make his exit.

"It's fine," you replied, uncaring in your exhaustion. You let yourself sink deeper in the water, your lids closing heavily as you leaned back on the ceramic edge. The warmth felt heavenly on the soreness of your muscles. "If you don’t mind a little bit of ashes in the water, there’s plenty of space."

He stopped in his tracks as he considered your offer.

“If you don’t mind, then-“ he didn’t finish the sentence on his tongue as he sat down near the small shower head. You hummed in answer, too tired for anything concrete to cross your lips.

The silence enveloped you both in a comfortable embrace, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of scrubbing, a soothing backdrop to the moment. Through the veil of your lashes, you studied him quietly, the soft glow of the lights accentuated his features. Clad only in a towel, his back was turned to you, offering a glimpse of the strength and grace that lay beneath the surface. Your gaze traced the contours of his muscles, following the path of droplets as they cascaded down his skin in a mesmerizing dance.

You spotted his eye observing at you through the mirror on the wall. He snorted. You closed your eyes again, giving him privacy. You felt the water ripple around you and rise as he stepped in far from you, at the other side of the bath.

“You did it, didn’t you?” he let out a satisfied sigh once he was sitting down fully.

You looked at him with lidded eyes. You couldn’t help the proud smile forming on your lips as you answered. “I did.”

The water stilled, the only sound the distant crash of waves on the hull. “You figured it out too, didn’t you?” You allowed your hand to rise to the surface, fingers playing aimlessly with the bubbles, sending soft ripples.

“I did,” there was a hint of satisfaction in his voice at the admission.

You chuckled. “I knew you’d get it, you mastered Uragiri this morning, right? I was surprised when you didn’t come get Yokubari. I thought you were itching to get your hands on that troublemaker.”

“You looked busy,” he stated, body relaxing further in the warmth of the water.

A smile plastered itself on your lips. “I didn’t know you were so considerate,” you teased glancing at him through heavy lashes.

He huffed. You had half a mind to continue to taunt him but you were just so tired.

“So which of your babies am I going to be allowed to study next?” You couldn’t help but ask, your voice sluggish.

He hummed, considering. “Shusui,” he decided.

Your brows furrowed as your brain struggled to process what he’d just said.

“Shusui?!” You suddenly perked up, your impulsive reaction putting you at the edge of decency, the bubbles barely covering your nakedness. “Why not Wado Ichimonji?” All marks of tiredness left your body at the thought of the legendary Shusui in your hands.

Zoro's gaze flicked to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eye as he took in your instantaneous burst of enthusiasm. "Wado Ichimonji is special," he explained, his tone was slightly strained as he spoke his next words. "It belonged to Kuina."

Kuina… that wasn’t a name you’d ever heard. You didn’t press in your curiosity, the way he’d said it had been filled with sorrow. It shouldn’t surprise you, you guessed, everyone had ghosts from their past.

You inched closer, threading the edge of the bath. The water rippled at your slow movement. You settled in front of him, bringing your knees to your chest so you didn’t touch.

“Say,” you mused, the sound echoing softly against the walls. “How did you even come by Shusui?”

Zoro's eye met yours, his gaze lingering on your face. The space between you seemed to shrink under the weight of his stare. You shifted, he looked away.

"Shusui... It's a long story," he replied after a while.

There was a sparkle in your eyes as you wondered what the tale behind the legendary sword was. "I have time.”

Zoro's attention returned to you, the hint of amusement resurfacing at your enthusiasm.

"Shusui found me," he answered cryptically, his voice carrying memories. "It really is a long story."

You gave his foot a small kick under the water. "I told you, I've got time," you insisted with a touch of petulance.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before backtracking to meet yours.

"It was when we fought Gecko Moria," he entertained your interest, his tone almost nostalgic.

Your eyes widened in awe as he recounted the adventure. You leaned back, letting your feet tangle with his as he spoke.

"Ryuma..." you whispered when he stopped, the name rolling off your tongue like a sacred chant.

Zoro nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I fought against his zombie, and in the end, I claimed Shusui as my own."

The image of Zoro facing off against a legendary swordsman was strangely alluring in your mind. Your eyes traced his features, traveled down his neck. The bubbles were starting to fade, the scar on his torso slightly visible. You saw his muscles twitch, flex a little, an indication that you’d been caught in your observations, yet you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

Your attention flickered back to his face, taking in the smug smirk on his lips.

“You’re staring, witch,” he remarked, the gravel in his voice more present than usual.

“Just curious about the scars,” you tried to justify as you fought the heat in your cheeks. “Look,” you started playfully, letting one of your legs rise to the surface. “We even have a matching one,” you gestured at the scar slightly above your ankle.

His eye traced along your skin before observing the white line that spanned the circumference of your leg. You suddenly felt self-conscious and with a quick movement you brought it back under the water. Before you could retreat fully, his hand grasped your ankle, settling your foot to his knee.

Your heart skipped a beat, the touch searing hot in the now tepid water.

“S-so, how’d you get yours?” You asked, giving a small tug, trying to pry your foot from his clutch unsuccessfully. “I’m afraid my story isn’t so interesting.”

The swordsman’s hold on your ankle tightened slightly, his eye lingering on the scar through the thin curtain of bubbles remaining before he met your gaze. “How’d you get it?” He ignored your question.

“I told you it wasn’t interesting, swordsman,” you furrowed your brows, frustration coloring your voice at the memories.

His grip softened, fingers tracing the white line on your flesh in almost delicate circles.

You hesitated. “I tried to cut off my leg,” you admitted reluctantly. Your face scrunched up in a bitter expression, you bit at the fragile skin of your inner lips in an anxious pattern. “Happy? Swordsman?”

His eyebrow quirked at the stiffness of your tone. He leaned back, his eye not leaving yours, his fingers not stopping their mindless exploration.

The silence dragged on.

“It was when I was forging Yokubari,” you confessed when it started to feel uncomfortable. “My mentor wasn’t kind to say the least. He was strict before I made him Uragiri, but when he turned mad under its influence, he began finding pleasure in other people’s pain,” your hand trembled at the memories, you closed your fist in an attempt to rein the torment inside, to calm yourself. “He got scared at some point that I’d disappear. My sister and I had tried to escape but he always found a way to drag us back. So, he decided to chain me to the anvil,” there was a silence before you continued. “You know, not all swords take the same amount of work. Some take a day, others take months to make. Yokubari took about a year of labor. I’d been forging for weeks, pouring my life force into steel when I got desperate enough to try and cut off my own leg.”

He listened to your words, you couldn’t make out any shift in his expression, his features not betraying his thoughts. But his touch on your scar was gentle, almost soothing.

“I see,” he said, when you stopped talking. There was no pity in his voice, you were grateful to him for that.

“I was too much of a coward to follow through though, it turns out that trying to cut your leg off is both harder than it seems and far more painful than you’d expect,” you added with levity, attempting to lighten the mood. “See? Pretty boring, right? So, how’d you get yours?”

He ignored you again.

“Hey,” you snapped. “I told you the story behind mine, now you tell me yours, swordsman. It can’t be that bad.”

He smirked.

“Maybe another day, witch,” he answered with a hint of evasion.

You narrowed your eyes, curious at the mystery he was clearly hoping to preserve. “Fine, swordsman,” you conceded with a pout as you realized he wasn’t going to budge. “But I won’t let this go until you’ve told me.”

Zoro chuckled at your expression, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his stare. “Stubborn as ever,” he remarked, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re not the most obstinate idiot on this ship, moss head,” you retorted, adding the nickname in an imitation of the cook. You flicked water in his direction.

He snorted. Mischief passed in his gaze at your action. His grip tightened on your ankle. Your eyes widened. You barely had the time to take a breath as you realized what he was about to do.

He pulled you under. You bubbled for a moment before coming back up for a big gulp of air. You pried your foot out of his hand in an angry motion.

“Oi,” you yelled at him, swiping the curtains of wet hair out from your eyes as you inched closer to him. “What was that for, you bastard?” You said, your index hitting him in the chest forcefully as though to make your point.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping the painful poking. “That mouth of yours is infuriating, witch,” he drew you nearer, his voice low and intense. “Always thinking you can get away with anything."

His hand went to your face in an almost gentle movement. His thumb swiped at your lips in a fleeting touch. You glared at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the building heat in your veins.

He tugged softly at your wrist, closing the distance ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise, your other hand settling on his chest for support. He pressed a little stronger on your lips in a familiar movement.

“You drive me mad,” he admitted, his words made something stir in your stomach. All resolve you had held crumbling in the face of the searing warmth that ignited within you.

You opened your mouth, granting him access. Your tongue met the rough pad of his thumb. You felt the rumble in his chest under your fingertips more than you heard it.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the pupil of his eye blowing up.

His hand snaked from your lips to the back of your neck. He leaned in, his lips finding yours tentatively at first, then with the hunger of a starving man.

He growled low in his throat, a primal sound that made you moan as you crashed into him, the bare skin of your chest melting into his. The water sloshed loudly, escaping the bath, and puddling on the floor as he switched your positions, trapping you underneath him.

The world around you spun, disoriented by the waves of desire coursing through your veins. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless. Your hands tightened on the muscles of his arms in an attempt to orient yourself before they traveled up to the back of his neck and tangled in the dampness of his hair.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding, almost forceful. Your nails dug in, leaving tiny red marks on his nape. He moaned into your mouth, the sound muffled. You smirked against his lips at his reaction.

His fingers gripped your locks as he backed away. Your lidded eyes met his hungry gaze. He tightened his hold pulling your head back, your back arched against the ceramic edge of the bath. Your hands fell from his hair, fingertips digging for purchase in his chest for support. You felt his hand trail your outer thigh, under your knee, opening your leg. You whined as you sensed his knee slot itself between your thighs, so close to your core, yet so far.

His touch was featherlight as his fingers shifted back up your leg, fleeting as he traveled your abdomen, almost imperceptible as the rough pad of his thumb traced the curve of your breast.

“Look at you, witch,” he whispered as he leaned forward, his breath hot against yours, satisfaction dripping out of his words.

A low moan crossed your lips, barely noticeable, even in the closeness of your bodies.

A small knock reverberated from the door, Nami’s voice cutting through.

You both halted.

“Oi, (Y/n)” the voice echoed against the walls. “You’re not asleep in there again, are you?” She asked.

Your heart stopped, the grip in your hair loosened, you slumped back slowly in the water without the intense hold he’d had on you.

“I-I’m awake!” You shouted, panicky.

The swordsman snorted, your eyes widened, your hand going to cover his mouth. ‘Don’t you dare’ you mouthed at him, gaze wild.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” You shouted again. “I just need to finish cleaning out the ashes around here.”

The handle of the door rattled. Your breath stopped.

“Hey, I told you not to lock the door when you’re bathing alone!” Nami admonished, her words muffled. “It’s dangerous if you fall down or something.”

“Sorry! I must have done it without thinking!” You apologized.

Your eyes met the swordsman’s, brows furrowing in confusion. “You locked the door?” You hissed in a quiet whisper.

You felt his grin widen against your fingers, you hit his chest hard. Zoro’s chuckles vibrated against your palm as he leaned back slightly.

Your attention went back to the door when you heard Nami’s sigh.

“Fine!” She relented, the handle clicking back in place. “Just don’t take too long.”

“I’ll be right out,” you reassured her.

You stayed frozen as you listened to the navigator’s retreating steps.

“You locked the door?” You asked again, incredulity in your voice.

His hand left your hair, lingering for a moment on your nape before going to the hand covering his mouth.

“I might have,” he admitted with a smirk, his lips brushing against your fingers with each word.

You tried to pry your hand from his grip, he didn’t relent.

“Get off me, you idiot,” you snapped at him.

He let go, leaning back against the edge of the bath, amusement in his gaze.

“I’m getting out, close that eye of yours,” you announced.

“Why?” He cocked his head. “You’re acting like you weren’t just writhing under me.”

“I wasn’t writhing, don’t flatter yourself so much,” you argued back. “Just close that eye of yours while I fetch my fucking towel.”

“What’s the point? The water’s been clear for the past half hour, it’s nothing I haven’t already seen,” still he closed his eye, expression lulling back in relaxation.

You felt your cheeks heat at the comment. With an exasperated huff, you quickly scrambled out of the bath. Your eyes met his half-lidded one in the mirror as you grabbed the towel.

“Seriously?” You muttered, shaking your head as you wrapped yourself in the fuzzy fabric. Your movements were fast and practiced as you tried your best to ignore the lingering warmth of his gaze. “You’re impossible.”

You watched his reflection as he lazily shifted around, reaching for the hot water handle. The sound of water cascading into the bath punctuated the silence between you.

“Bring me Shusui tomorrow,” you demanded, turning to face him. “You can take Yokubari while you’re at it too.”

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “That’s not our deal.” He stated after much consideration.

“It isn’t,” you agreed. “But I have a condition I’d like to add for Yokubari, it’s only fair that you get it sooner.”

“What is it?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You started to make your way towards the door, snatching your dirty clothes quickly. “You’ll see,” you said. “Try not to fall asleep and drown in there.”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, the night having offered no respite from the memory of his touch and the intensity of his lips. Leaning forward, your elbows found refuge on the worn wooden table as you took a bite of a croissant, the flaky pastry acting as a brief distraction from your restless thoughts.

"Hey, swordsman," you called out, swallowing before continuing. "So, what's the story behind those scars around your legs?" You tried your luck again, your question drew the attention of the scattered crew, their curiosity piqued.

Nami couldn't contain her amusement, a loud snort escaping her lips, while Zoro's expression darkened into a scowl.

"What's so funny?" you asked innocently, the prospect of uncovering the tale now even more intriguing.

"It's none of your business, witch" Zoro replied tersely, his tone clipped.

A shiver went down your spine, the nickname feeling different after the happenings of the night before.

Nami was not to be deterred by the swordsman’s warning, a mischievous glint dancing in her gaze as she took back your attention and launched into a saga of events.

Tears of laughter pricked at your eyes as Nami recounted the embarrassing incident, and once your mirth subsided, you couldn't resist teasing Zoro further.

"So, you were just embarrassed, swordsman?" you snorted, unable to contain your amusement.

Zoro's scowl deepened, a faint pink hue tinting his ears as he grumbled, "Like I said, it's none of your business."

Your chuckling bubbled up once more, the images in your imagination vivid thanks to the navigator’s amazing retelling of the story. "But seriously," you continued, teasingly, "what were you planning to do after cutting your legs? You can't exactly fight like that."

The table erupted into laughter, the camaraderie between the crew members palpable as they shared in the light-hearted moment.

Zoro turned his head, clearly embarrassed through the cracking mask of indifference he usually wore.

“Oh!” Chopper exclaimed, hopping onto Zoro’s shoulder as he looked at the back of his neck. Red marks plagued his nape in lines and crescents. “Did you hurt yourself, Zoro?” the reindeer asked innocently, a small hoof probing at the scrapes.

The swordsman’s gaze met yours, a brazen smirk gracing his lips. You felt heat rising in your cheeks. “Must have scratched myself by accident,” he answered, his voice smug.

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Masterlist

#the swordsman and the blacksmith #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #charlou writes

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