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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 11 months ago

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#391

“What? You think you are done faggot? Get back into place. I said, ‘Faggot, get back into place.’ No, no, no, you ain’t Kevin no more, not after I saw four men take turns spit roasting you. You are Faggot from this point on. Now it’s my turn to bust my nut….

“This changes everything between us. About time it does. I’m tired of hearing about Jesus. When my right-wing cousin asked me to take the 20-year-old son of a friend of hers along with me to see if he would like truck driving, I was reluctant. She told me you were a quiet boy who needed to come out of a shell. I filled out all the paperwork with the company so you could ride with me.

“Bend over the picnic table with your cunt pointing at that garbage can.

“When we met, I knew you were a faggot right away. You followed me into the men’s room. I started to get a boner right there. I saw you glancing at my dick at the urinals. I knew it was going to be a great two weeks together. But not ten minutes in my cab, I was hearing how much you love Jesus, and I knew this was not going to be good. And we hadn’t even started rolling.

“Now pull apart your cunt lips and push some jiz out.

“So before we left, I called my cousin. She told me that you are the son of her Baptist preacher and it would be a great favor to her to take you out and show you real America. Now my cousin doesn’t know that I’m a total fag fucker. So instead, I called two of my fellow drivers, Barry and Jimmy. You just met them; Barry was the first and Jimmy was the third guy to spit roast you. We drive for the same company on the same route on the same day. As you are Barry’s type, he wanted you ASAP. That’s why we are here at this rest area. That and this spot has this picnic table out back away from the eyes of the casual traveler.

“Push some more out. I want a good glob on my cock head. Damn, this cunt has been used before. And I’m not even talking about just today. It’s obvious that you also have experience in servicing and serving men. Your second fucker was this trucker that followed you and Barry back here. And he was slapping your face when Barry was plowing your cunt. And it wasn’t a love tap; it was a man properly using and abusing a faggot. He even used a fistful of you your hair as a handle. You seemed to take that roughness like it was nothing.

“So, I can reach over and pull you off the picnic table and push you on your knees…. Like that. Faggot, this is natural for you, isn’t it?... Where did you learn that you need to be treated like shit?...

“…You met older men from those kink sites?... …So I have a faggot to use as my personal cunt for the next few weeks?

“That face slap is for not addressing me with respect. That’s ‘Yes Master.’ You refer to all men as ‘Sir.’ You got that faggot?... I’m really going to like smacking you around.

“See that glob of driver cum on my dick head? Using only the tip of your tongue, scoop it in your mouth, but don’t swallow it.

“Now say, ‘I am a faggot whore whose only existence is to be abused by real men. I live for cock and cum….’ …Say it again…. …Again…

“You got me leaking. Turn your head to face the garbage can. I want to wipe my pre-cum on your cheek. Swallow that spunk and keep saying it.

“That’s good. Mmmm. Now say that you want to be abused without mercy…. And say that you don’t want to have a safe word…. So you do not want to have any say of what I plan on doing to you, and that your pleas to stop must be ignored…. Don’t look back at me; say it to the garbage can, cause that’s what you are, garbage.

“…Good that’s done. Now suck on my dick.

“Listen up faggot. I was talking with that second driver—the one that roughed you up while Barry was plowing your cunt. He left back here and made a bee line to his cab. When he came out, he looked pissed. He had a belt already doubled up, and he was heading back here to beat the shit out of you.

“I stopped him. He was pissed at you. He recognized you. He showed me his phone. It had a news article with a pic of you standing next to your father as your preacher father was going into the state’s senate to fights against gays. Now I tend to stay out of politics, but even I know of your dad’s name.

“I told him that you were being fucked by Jimmy and that random fourth guy that came out of nowhere. He wondered how I knew the details of what was going on as this area isn’t seen from the parking lot….

“I told him to look at my phone. Faggot, pull off my cock and look up. Damn, you are one hungry cunt. You don’t care about anything I have to say. That would explain why you don’t seem interested in how I knew about everything and every guy you were doing back here.

“If you look at my phone you will see a faggot kneeling in front of a man, both next to a picnic table. That faggot is you…. Yes, I have been watching you through my phone. The camera is located inside the opening to the garbage can there.

“Now it’s hitting you. Yeah, I told Barry to come up here and set it up. He has a lot of cameras in his truck. He streams his fuck sessions in his cab and makes a shit load of money on-line. By default, he has a copy of the video and so do I. So going after my phone won’t do you no good. So get back on your knees.

“It’s interesting, I did this to blackmail you into being my total bitch the seventeen days you are with me and to get you to stop with the religious shit. Barry was definitely game, as likes young fags like you. Jimmy just likes to fuck. This here was going to be a simple picnic table fuck.

“That all changed when Chuck—that would be the second driver—showed me his phone….

“…Don’t fucking say another word. I will smack you again. You are in a shitty spot here. First, you are naked as a rest stop, loaded up by four men, soon to be five with mine. Don’t bother looking for your clothes. Barry picked up your shit and put it in his cab; you were oblivious being spit roasted.

“When you leave this area, you will walk back to a row of semis buck naked. After my fat hog fucks you, your gape will be more pronounced, so you will have jiz running down your legs like some goddamned whore. Next, you were filmed doing and saying nasty things, things your Papa wouldn’t approve. So doing something stupid like running away is not going to go well for you, as that video can be edited to hide us but showcase your talents. Videos are easy to disseminate. You are kinda stuck in this situation, subject to whatever sexual whims that should come to mind.

“You are going to be filmed doing nasty shit going forward, but doing one video will have the same as ten. You understand your predicament?... Good. Good.

“Now get up and lean over the picnic table. I need to drop my seed.

“…Fuck, you are sloppy back here. The guys stretched you out enough, so you aren’t strangling my dick. And cum lube is the best…. Oh yeah, clamp down like that. We need to be very quick. There’s a timetable that needs to be met. We all are meeting up at a particular spot up ahead for our 10-hour DOT rest.

“The things that are planned for you..., I’m getting close just thinking about it. You are going to be used by so many men these next two weeks.

“Damn your hair was made to be used as a handle. Arch your back. Try almost to stand.

“Fuck that feels good. You ready for my load? Of course you are. You are cum dump faggot who lives to take load after load. You don’t give a shit who is fucking you, just as long as they breed you. You fucking slut. You whore.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m going to flood your guts with more cum. When I am done, you are to clean me off like a good faggot.

“Get ready. Here it cums! Here it cums! Here it fucking cums! Ahhhh Ahhhhh Ahh!... Fuck! Goddamn, your cunt is just what I needed.

“…Atta boy. Tastes nasty hunh? That’s the flavor of four men’s loads. Yeah you are a fucking pig. I knew it.

“…Let’s head on out. Hold on. Let me get that camera from the garbage can. …OK, let’s go.

“No. No. You are walking in front of me. I want whoever is in the parking lot to see a naked cum whore faggot. Walk slowly. Better yet. I got a fistful of your hair. I’ll control the pacing.

“Damn. Everyone’s gone except for me and Chuck. Barry split and he has your clothes… and probably your phone too. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back tonight.

“Let’s go over to Chuck’s cab.

“Hey Chuck!... I got the faggot here for ya! Naked and loaded up! Are they going to be there?... Fucking awesome!

“OK faggot get on up. You are riding with Chuck for the rest of today…. Awww shut the fuck up. I don’t care what you have to say. Chuck has arranged to have a gay biker gang join us tonight. His condition for arranging this was he gets you tied up in his cab for the day. Seems like a fair exchange….

“…I said for you to shut up. Keep insisting you have something important to say, and I’ll do a lot more than slam your faggot face against his cab.

“Listen here shithead. I don’t give a shit about you, or what happens to you. I don’t give a fuck about my right-wing nutjob cousin. And I don’t have any sympathy for your father and his evil fucked up ministry.

“I control what happens to you. And you are going in the cab of a fellow fag fucking driver, a man I just met, a man that has bondage equipment installed inside, a man that knows a biker gang. And I’m fine with all of it.

“Chuck, get down here. The faggot needs convincing getting up into your cab. Bring your belt. I can stick around to help you turn this sissy girl black and blue….

“Change your mind? Good. Get up there.

“He’s all yours Chuck.

“I hope to catch you later faggot… “…Oh faggot! I forgot to say, ‘Praise Jesus!’”

This story continues in Story #396.

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panda-writes-kpop · 5 months ago

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your home is the sea, my home is you ~ pirate! giselle

a/n: after almost seven months (good LORD), we have a third pirate aespa fic!!! and everyone cheered!!! this may be one of my favorite works of the year, there's something so tender and sincere in this fic that I can't quite put my finger on. anyways, gonna go watch Hugh Jackman edits on repeat until I get more fic ideas! 🫶

tw: mentions of robbery, violence, and other crimes associated with being a pirate, a LOT of swearing, the faintest hint of winselle, it's not angst but it gets sad at times???

summary: Your idea for your latest novel has you ruminating on your previous relationship with the woman who haunts your dreams, Giselle. Giselle's longing for a missing piece of her heart leads her to your front doorstep. She just has to hope that you won't close your heart to her, just as she did to you years ago.

♡ Masterlist ♡

A cool ocean breeze wraps around her neck as the chill of the night starts to seep into her bones. Every part of her is screaming to run, to go far away from the things that scare her.

But what is life without a little bit of adventure?

You watch the pendulum in your grandfather clock swing forward as the next words flow easily onto the paper.

She wanted to experience the adventure of the ocean, to let her heart travel with the ocean waves that beckoned her forward. But what was she to do? Abandon her family? Leave the familiarity of her hometown behind?

Leave them behind? The one person who supported them through thick and thin?

The pendulum swings back as you stare at the candlelight in your bedroom.

Rosella had a choice to make, one that would decide her entire destiny. A friend, or a lifetime of fulfillment?

Their call was strong, but the ocean’s was stronger.

With one hand on your naval revolver and the other on your bag, your feet hit the ground with increasing frequency as you run towards the docks. You had a deadline to meet with your time and your writing. The traveling night market was in town tonight, and within their merry caravan of travelers was your editor. A shrewd old woman with a sharp tongue who had been your mentor since you had abandoned your studies to pursue writing as a career.

I would’ve stayed if Giselle stayed.

You shake your head at the thought of your childhood best friend - you were nothing but a fleeting nostalgic memory to her, so she should be the same to you.

The book, the market - I have to hurry.

Unfortunately, the night market only accepted incoming foot traffic until midnight, and according to your grandfather clock, it was a centimeter past eleven-fifty. Your home was ten minutes away from the docks - you’d be cutting it close if you were simply walking.

“You’re early.” The guard jokes as you pull out the business card that Merrin, your editor, gave to you. “She still edits your books?”

“As long as I keep writing them.” You fold your arms as the guard stares at the card. “Can I go in?”

“Try to make it quick - she’s in one of those moods again.”

You pluck the card from their hand before waving at them.

“She’s always in a mood, but I have to hope that it’s a good one.”

You greet the various merchants and regulars that pass by you - most of them are familiar with your work, even if you use a moniker instead of your real name. It isn’t hard to deduce who the newest novelist on the block is when you know their publisher by name.

“When��s the new novel coming?” One shouts at you as you chuckle to yourself. “The last one really pulled on my heartstrings, and I need a bit of a pick-me-up before I go for a second read.”

“You’ll get your hands on it as soon as everyone else does.” You reassure them as they jokingly scoff and walk away.

Oh, the bliss of only being recognized by a small crowd of people.

You stop in front of the last tent on the docks - a large purple cloth hangs over the rods and poles that make up the foundation of the tent. Angry red vines dart over various parts of the tent, but none dare to cross each other.

You take a deep breath before entering the tent.

Hopefully her mood won’t sour mine.

“You’re earlier than usual. Did you get sick and tired of begging the guard to let you in until I would show up and save your ass?” Merrin, dressed in a conservative, frilly white dress, lights a candle with one hand as she balances on her cane with the other.

“Does your bad mood have to do with whoever’s wedding you interrupted?” You bite your lip as she slowly turns toward you.

“If my glasses were on me, I’d knock you to the floor with my cane.” She hobbles over to another table to light another candle as you approach the middle of the room. “And I thought this dress looks nice on me.”

“Yeah, if you were a fourteen-year-old noble who was forced to marry a man decades older than her.” Another sharp look from Merrin causes you to shut your mouth before she fulfills her early promise. “Are you in the mood to read something I’ve written?”

“Depends on if it’s better than the utter shit I’ve been reading all day.” Merrin sets her cane aside as she sits on one of the two chairs near the middle of the room. “Hand me my glasses, will you?”

“Don’t hit me with your cane, you old witch.” You pick her glasses up off of the floor before handing them to her.

“Why, I ought to-” She quickly grabs her cane, which causes you to immediately sit in the chair on her left.

You’re both playing with each other - she won’t hit you that hard, and you won’t completely piss her off. It’s just the way that Merrin is, and if you’re careful, you can break down her walls and see the woman behind the anger and sass.

As you look over to her, Merrin lightly taps your ankle with her cane as a rare smile appears on her face.

“How’s the novel coming? More progress than scribbles and midnight thoughts, I hope?” She looks surprised as you pull a bundle of parchment from your bag.

“I managed to get a chapter out, but it’s a rough draft, Merrin.” You remind her as you hand her the papers. “It isn’t very good-”

“-that’s for me to decide.” She says as she grabs the papers and adjusts the glasses on her face.

“I-” You interject before she gives you a pointed glare.

“Shut your damn mouth so I can read in peace.”

Sometimes you wonder why you chose Merrin as your editor - a form of punishment, perhaps?

That’s what you feel like you’re doing to yourself as she carefully scans every single word on the pages that you scribbled on. A spotlight has closed in on you, and you’re sweating under the pressure. What will you do if she rejects you again after this draft? Will you finally part ways with the woman who helped you find a path when you were nothing but an empty wanderer?

Merrin clears her throat as your attention snaps back to her.

She thinks it’s terrible - I’m never going to live this latest failure down.

“This is quite good.” She softly says as she reorganizes the papers for you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“And I thought I was the one with bad hearing, being old and all.” She snorts as you reach for the papers from her extended hand.

As soon as your hand touches them, Merrin snatches them out of your reach with a knowing smile.

“I have one question about the main character.”

“Alright, lay it on me.” You sigh in relief as you can mentally prepare yourself for her critiques.

Rosella was hardly fleshed out, and she had little-to-no dialogue to give perspective into her motivations, ideals, and personality. Perhaps Merrin could help you with that?

“What woman inspired you to write Rosella?” She asks as you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I, uh…” You nervously look around, trying to think of an escape route. “She’s based on a friend, from long, long ago.”

You stress that this woman was long behind you, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not like she would show back up in your life after years and years of silence.

“Well, if you see this friend from a long, long time ago,” She stresses the words the same way you did, “tell her that she’s one hell of a protagonist.”

“I will.” You grit your teeth as your mind wanders to the woman in question.

I hope I never see her again.

Giselle scribbles various notes onto the map within the captain’s quarters. She used to be the primary navigator when the Red-Hair Pirates were nothing but an idea in Winter’s head.

“One day, this boat will be filled with pirates and friends we’ve collected in our travels,” Winter looked over to Giselle before placing a hand on her back, “and I’m going to need you to be by my side, every second of every day.”

Winter paused for a moment, before walking towards the ship and extending her hand to her.

“You have everything you ever need here - a good education, family, friends, and stability. I’m offering adventure until your heart's content, enough money to set your family up for life, and every kind of booze imaginable.”

“Even rum?” Giselle tilted her head at Winter, who gave her a toothy grin.

“Especially rum. So, are you in or what?”

“I’m in, I just… have to say some goodbyes first.”

Now, her role within the crew was more muddled, somewhat lying between weaponsmaster and navigator. Usually, she would sort out her navigating affairs in the morning, and then keep up with the weapons in the afternoon. The nighttime was reserved for merrymaking and hell-raising - just as Giselle liked it.

But there was a part of her missing, something she had been chasing with booze and adventure that couldn’t be replaced.

What was she missing?

“Giselle!” Karina barrels into the captain’s quarters as she nearly collides into the table.

“You’re still drunk.” She chuckles. “You can’t handle your liquor for shit.”

“And you prefer in that way, so you can scam me out of my money.” Karina scoffs before loudly hiccuping.

“Alright,” Giselle stops working and puts her hands up in the air, “I am a bit of a trickster, but we’re pirates, remember? It’s kind of our thing.”

“Eh.” Karina shrugs before throwing a book onto the desk where Giselle was working.

“What’s this?”

She studies the book for a moment before looking at Karina

“A gift from the Captain. Winter says to come see her after giving it a read.” Karina stumbles out of the door before loudly shutting it.

“Riveting conversation with a drunk Karina, like usual.” Giselle mumbles to herself. “I wonder why Winter would want me to read this?”

Her hands gently trace the spine as she studies the author’s name in bold ink.

It’s not one she recognizes, but perhaps she might know the writing style? Curious, Giselle carefully opens the book and begins to read.

It was mid-afternoon before Giselle exited the captain’s quarters, much later than usual. When she does, she immediately charges towards her quarters in a fury.

It takes every bone in Giselle’s body to stop her from ripping her room to shreds to find the letters that she had locked away years ago.

The letters that reminded her of you. The letters that had the same cadence and writing style that you did. Those letters tied you to her, and, at the moment, pointed to you as the author.

More than that, Giselle had come to the realization that Winter knew that the two of you were connected.

And that was more terrifying than confronting someone from her past.

Giselle finds the letters under her bed, and they’re carefully tied together with a bit of rope. She snatches them within an instant, and she tucks them under her arm before beginning her journey to find Winter.

“Giselle!” Ningning calls out to her as Giselle appears on the upper deck. “I had a question about some of the knives that I found in the gunroom.”

“Not the time.” Giselle charges right past her as she spots Winter on the quarterdeck.

“Is that the book Winter asked me to get you?”

Giselle, with no hesitation, turns on her heel to face the assassin.

“Of course she did!” She sighs before turning around. “Am I the one finding this out last when it’s my business?”

“If it comforts you, I didn’t ask for any details. I just grabbed the book and gave it to her.” Ningning plays with a knife in her hand as Giselle tightly squeezes the book in her left hand.

“Thanks.” She grumbles before calling out to Winter, “Hey, you have some explaining to do!”

“As do you!” Winter copies her volume, but she waits until Giselle comes closer to begin speaking in a softer tone. “Are they the reason why you tried to send letters back to your hometown from the different ports that we stopped in?”

“You knew about that?” Giselle stares, absolutely befuddled.

“I know when my friends aren’t themselves. I did a little digging, and I found a gold vein.” Winter looks out to the ocean. “You could’ve told me, you know. We could’ve worked something out.”

“But you needed me-”

“-I did, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I knew that your loyalties lied with someone else.”

Giselle physically deflates before confessing the truth to Winter.

“So you know that I was a part of the naval academy before I joined you.” Giselle looks away in shame, like a small puppy. “They were too, but we quit together-”

“-so you could chase your dreams together. You, an acclaimed mapmaker. Them, an accomplished novelist. Do I have the narrative right?” Winter raises an eyebrow at Giselle.

Not quite.

“I loved them.” Giselle bites her lip. “I love them.”

Panic covers Giselle’s face as she opens her mouth to speak.

“There it is,” Winter smirks before yelling to the crew, “Set sail to the west.”

“I’m doing you a favor, mind you. You need to figure this out before it ends with you getting yourself killed. I can’t stand to watch my crewmate, my friend, drink herself into an early grave.”

“So we’re doing this?” Giselle asks.

“You’re doing this.”

“The pirates are coming! The pirates are coming!” A man on a horse repeats the same phrase over and over as he passes by your estate.

Pirates? Here? Why?

No, it can’t be those pirates.

Your head snaps towards the nearest window that faces the docks. In the distance, you can see a large pirate show approaching your humble town.

And wouldn’t you know it, the flag on the ship shows a dead skull sporting some fire-red hair.

The Red-Hair Pirates.

The crew that Giselle’s a part of.

Shit.

You can see a group of villagers approach the docks from your side, and you’re sure a fight will break out - no, a bloodbath will occur - if someone doesn’t get down there and stop it.

Maybe that naval training will come into use.

“Your kind isn’t welcome here.” A villager points a large shotgun at Winter’s chest, and she seems unphased by his outburst.

“We’re not here to loot, we just want to rest.” She pulls out a gold coin and flips it into the air before grabbing it and offering it to the villager. “Our coin is good here, no?”

“I-” He pauses before studying the coin. “One night. And the only place that you can shop is the night market.”

“That sounds like our kind of place, right?” Winter turns to her pirates, who cheer loudly. “I’ll make sure they’ll behave, I swear.”

“You better.” He scoffs before spitting at the ground. “C’mon, we have better things to do than guard open docks.”

The villagers disperse, which causes Giselle to sigh in relief.

That’s a battle I didn’t want to fight.

“Alright, everyone, back on the ship until nightfall. We aren’t welcome here until then, so this boat better be spotless in a few hours!” Winter commands, and her crew scrambles back onto the ship as Winter pulls Giselle aside. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do, and I don’t need backup. I’ll be back before nighttime.” Giselle softly says before Winter grabs her shoulder.

“I’d like to meet your friend, if they want to meet me. Perhaps it can help explain why you left - take some of the blame off of your shoulders,” Winter shrugs, “Or I can just have a drink with a friend and a friend of a friend. Either works for me.”

They’re… leaving?

“Not sure I’d call us friends, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You watch from a distance as the villagers, your neighbors, disperse with varying emotions on their faces. Some look relieved, others seem pissed, but most appear to be indifferent.

As if killing another wasn’t a brutal act that weighed on your soul for as long as you lived.

A woman with striking red hair turns to the pirates on the dock, and with only a few words, she sends them back onto the ship.

Their captain - Winter, the pirate queen of myths and legends.

Infamous doesn’t even begin to describe Winter, as her face was neatly plastered on every wanted board across the nation. Her reputation of brutality nearly exceeds her generosity and kindness. She took from the rich government ships and gave to the poor towns that she traveled to.

Almost like a storybook character. Perhaps my next protagonist can take some of her qualities.

Before all of her crew can go back to the ship, Winter pulls one of them aside. A girl with blonde hair, but a face that you recognize. Not from the wanted posters that showed her with black hair and a devilish yet charming smile.

But a ghost from your past, the woman who you were hoping to escape from. The girl who had invaded your dreams every night since she left.

Your Rosella.

Giselle.

You want to turn away, to run back to the safety of your home, but you can’t. Not because you want to see Giselle, but because she’d follow you back home.

After all, it was her home too.

With a deep breath, and as much courage as you can muster, you let your feet carry you towards Giselle.

Towards your destiny.

Giselle’s eyes widen as she sees you walking towards her with an unreadable expression on your face. You’re not completely pissed, which is good, but you don’t look happy. You’re not sad, but there isn’t any longing in your eyes. There’s no indifference in your face, but when your eyes meet hers, a twinkle of nostalgia appears briefly.

Perhaps you missed her as much as she missed you.

“You look…” Giselle pauses as the two of you meet in the middle of the road. “Well.”

“Thanks.” You nod before looking out to the ocean. “I like your blonde hair. It suits you.”

“Thanks…” Giselle trails off while hoping that the road would open up and swallow her whole.

Why was it so hard to talk to you? She thought of a million things to say to you, but none of them seemed right.

So let’s start with the simplest one.

“I’m sorry.”

When the words leave her lips, you look over in surprise.

As if you thought that she meant to hurt you.

A dagger slices through her heart, as the wound that is your shared history is reopened again. She’s going to let herself drown in bad blood unless she says something else.

Something that will make this right.

Nothing will, she knows this. But why not try?

“I’m sorry for leaving you with such a shitty goodbye. I’m sorry for convincing you to leave the naval academy with me and then leaving you behind. I’m sorry that I never was able to return your letters.” She pauses to hand you them.

“You kept them?” You tilt your head at her. “After all of these years?”

“Of course I did.” She says before softly laughing. “It was the only reminder I had of home.”

“I thought the sea was your home.”

“No, my home was always you.” Giselle quietly mumbles. “I wanted to explore, to see the world, but I wanted to come back home.”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Your voice is laced with hurt, and Giselle wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms.

But you’re not that close, not anymore.

“I tried to, but no letter carrier would take my money. Turns out that people aren’t fond of pirates,” She scoffs, “but I kept them all in my quarters. Perhaps you’d like to see them?”

A light smile appears on your face - you’re actually contemplating her offer.

“Would you like to see the home first? I don’t know if it has changed much-”

“-that sounds great.” Giselle lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

A peace offering. An olive branch. Perhaps you can begin anew?

Months ago, you would’ve sworn at Giselle if she had set foot in your town, let alone in your house. That was before you finished the book, before a character in that book taught you something about forgiveness.

“Will you ever forgive me, my dear?” Rosella says to her beloved. “I know it’s been years, but I can’t help but yearn for you. Our souls are intertwined, and no amount of treasure will ever make up for losing you.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive and forget, but…”

“But?” A flicker of hope appears in Rosella’s eyes.

“But maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

You watch Giselle comb over your bookshelf as you take a seat in the living room.

“You really didn’t change this place, huh?” She says before sitting at a chair on the opposite end of the room.

“It didn’t feel right. This is still your home, after all.” You say.

“Our home,” Giselle corrects you before her eyes widen, “shit. I didn’t mean to-”

You wave away her concerns with a charming smile.

“No, it’s alright.”

An awkward silence spreads over the room - what should you say to her now?

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Giselle softly asks before looking in your eyes. “I don’t want to intrude if I’m not welcome.”

You take a deep breath - it’s time to address the massive elephant in the room.

“Giselle, I don’t want to do this back-and-forth with you. I want to talk about what happened between us.”

You’re surprised at how mature you sound, how non-malicious your words are. You had gone over this moment a thousand times in your head, but none of them were this nice or friendly.

“What is there to talk about? I ruined your life, no, our lives. I promised you that pirating was only a temporary thing, and you can see how that ended-”

“It pains me to see you tear yourself up about this, Giselle.” You calmly say as she pauses and reflects for a moment. “How can we move forward if we’re stuck reliving the past over and over?”

“You want to start again?”

Giselle looks dumbfounded as you nod.

“We might not be that close again, not for a long time, but we can try being friends. Then we’ll see where it goes.” You shrug your shoulders as she thinks for a moment before responding.

“Why would you let me get away with what I did to you? I left you alone for years, with not a word of my health and well-being. Why put yourself through that again?”

You chuckle to yourself as familiar words come to the front of your mind.

“Maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

“From your book.” She responds wistfully before her eyes widen. “You wrote yourself as the love interest?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod as the realization comes crashing down on Giselle.

“And the girl, Rosella, who is strong, beautiful, and kind. The girl who messes up time after time yet she still manages to redeem herself - that’s me?”

“Yup.” You’re quiet for a moment, to allow Giselle to process everything. “Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration?”

“Why?” She leans forward as her voice quivers in anticipation. “Why me?”

“Because no matter how much I hated you, I could never get you out of my head. You haunted my every dream and nightmare. I couldn’t escape your grasp, so I wrote about the woman who had completely transfixed my mind, body, and soul.”

A breathy chuckle escapes your lips.

This is just like a confession that I would write in my book. The next thing she would say is I love you-

“I never stopped loving you.” She confesses before standing up.

You stand up to meet her gaze.

“Neither did I.”

“To be completely honest,” Winter says as you and Giselle approach the docks, “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“You’re still my captain, Winter.” She smiles before gesturing to you. “This is my friend, the one I told you about.”

“Friend,” She stares at your intertwined hands, “right. Excuse my staring. It isn’t every day that you meet an author of legend.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you to say.” You nudge Giselle’s shoulder. “Why can’t you be as charming as her?”

“Hey-” She tries to defend herself, but Winter’s laughter cuts her off.

“Oh, I like them. They’d be a good addition to our crew.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you blink rapidly.

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so, unless Giselle objects?” Winter turns to Giselle, who glances at you.

“It’s your decision. I won’t force it on you-”

“Yes,” You quickly answer, “but I’m not sure what use I would be to your crew.”

“We could use your writing and organizing skills to keep track of weapons, finances, maps, food, and other supplies on the ships. That means that you would be working closely with Giselle and I.” Winter explains as you nod along. “Plus there would be plenty of time for you to continue writing your latest masterpiece. I know you’re good with a gun - I can see the Navy’s engravings on the handle, so combat won’t be an issue for you.”

You quickly hide your gun holster with your coat.

“I hope you don’t take offense to my weapons background,” You say before leaning over to Giselle, “how the fuck does she know all of that?”

“Long story, I’ll explain after a drink or two,” Giselle whispers back, “but I’m glad that you’re going with us. It’ll be nice to show you to all of the places that we’ve been before.”

“Got it.” You smile before letting go of Giselle’s hand.

She reaches out to grab it, but you instead maneuver around her hand to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I, um…” She struggles to articulate her feelings as a furious blush appears on her face.

Winter laughs loudly before gesturing towards the ship.

“We still have a few hours before nightfall. Perhaps we can celebrate with a drink?”

“Sounds good. You in?” You ask Giselle, who can’t even look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Her face is still red as Winter walks to the ship.

“Feel free to join me when you’re ready.”

You go to follow behind her, but Giselle stops you by catching your arm with her hand.

“Hey, I-” She pauses to regain her composure, “Thank you, for this. I needed it.”

“It really isn’t a problem,” You say before leaning in to tease her, “but don’t expect me to kiss you every time you need a pick-me-up.”

“Damn, you know my schemes before I can properly plan them.” Giselle smirks before pulling you closer. “But I can always kiss you, right?”

She closes the distance between your lips before quickly pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Tease.” You grumble as she leans back.

“You started it, and I ended it.” She shrugs before her hand slips into yours. “We shouldn’t keep Winter waiting - we don’t want her to have a bad impression of you, right?”

You nod as Giselle leads you on to the ship.

As her crewmates greet you and welcome you onto the ship, you wonder if this new chapter of your life will be something to write about.

Maybe it’s time for my story to be told.

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jamil-s-wifey · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Can I request drunken reader and drunken Jack howl making out and about to go further but there's a knock on the door that brings them back to reality? They weren't thinking straight in the moment and now they don't know how to act with each other after the heated makeout and groping session

Thank you!

Ah, I love these types of requests so much omg! I made it kind of open-ended, do tell if you wish for a part two of this! This is so cute! We love them drunken shenanigans. One slightly lime-y scenario with extra vodka, coming right up~~ ALSO A TON OF CURSING!

P.S. This is happening during MC and Jack's 3rd year, so that they are of legal age for both the nsfw part and the drinking, (at least in my country) AND to still be together most of the time, and be in that crush phase~

P.P.S. Alcohol is fun until it's not! Drink responsibly~~

How your friends managed to procure alcohol on campus was beyond you. How they hid it from Crowley was even more beyond you. Did it matter? Not necessarily. Not when you were having so much fun!

Towards the end of your third year, you decided to celebrate together with your friends. After all, the future was uncertain. Ace, Deuce, Sebek, Jack, Epel and of course Grim and you, everybody was there! You all stayed at Ramshackle, away from prying eyes. So here you were, drinking to your heart's content, celebrating the end of the school year, reminiscing, laughing, playing games like truth or dare, you know how it is.

As time passed, everybody reluctantly returned to their respective dorms until only you and Jack remained. Even Grim had gone who knows where to probably sleep off the ungodly amount of food he'd consumed.

.................

"So, I don't really want tonight to end yet. If you've got nothing better to do, how about we drink one more?" You proposed, taking a sip of your drink. You were currently facing each other, cross-legged on your bed.

"Yeah, I'd like that." He smiled back, tail swishing behind him. The more he drank, the more he let loose. He was leaning back, eyes glazed over from the alcohol. A sight to behold. And my my, were you beholding it.

Your gaze travelled down his body, before moving to the alcohol, taking a big gulp. You couldn't exactly help yourself, not when Jack was just sitting there, on YOUR bed, all attractive and shit.

"Let's play a staring game!" Suddenly you chimed in. Then you could stare at him and compete at the same time.

"Staring game? Okay, bring it on."

"But with a twist." (Hehe, twist)

"Oh no"

"Oh yes. We can try anything to get the other person to blink."

"Anything?"

You realised the implications of your words and your cheeks heated up almost immediately.

"Yes. Anything."

"....okay."

He moved closer to you, using you as leverage, so that you could be perfectly face to face, with little space between you two, less than an arms length. His own heart skipped a beat at the closeness and your implication, which was FOR ONCE not lost on him. Perhaps it was the alcohol? It is a great way of dropping your inhibitions.

"3... 2... 1... Start!"

And so the game began. The first few seconds were easy, until you reached out to try and poke him, only for him to firmly grab your hand. His eyes read determination...and a little something more.

"Killjoy."

"I'm just playing the game, MC."

But then, you reached out and with your other hand and gently cupped his cheek. His eyes widened, but he still remained unblinking. However, his gaze slowly moved downwards, from your eyes to your lips. His own hand moved to rest on your knee. It was getting increasingly harder not to blink. You slowly slid your hand out of his grasp and moved it to his knee, mirroring his actions, only you didn't stop there. Slowly gliding your hand further up his thigh, you knew you were getting a rise out of him. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, or just your own subconscious looking for-.

"Fuck. I really want to kiss you right now."

Before you could stop yourself, you had closed the distance between you two and smashed your lips on his. And my god, was it glorious. Thin lips moving against your own warm ones, big strong hands moving up your thighs, resting on your waist. It wasn't the most romantic kiss, but god it was passionate and hungry, and needy.

With resolve almost fully broken, he pulled you towards him, manhandling you onto his lap as if you weighed nothing - which for him, you did. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It was cathartic, the release of finally tasting him, feeling him, all over you, crashing into you like waves of desire. His hands slid down, to the small of your back, engulfing you.

Pulling back, he looked at you, eyes glazed over, breathless, wanting, barely cohesive from that intoxicating kiss. He nodded, silently asking you if you were okay. Even drunk, needy and turned on out of his mind, he was a gentleman. You settled a little more comfortably on his lap pushing him back to lay on your bed, before demonstratively moving one of his hands to your ass - your very physical answer.

The growl that left him was unlike anything you'd ever heard before, and god, did you feel it wash over you like a heatwave. He pulled you in for another kiss, this time deeper, slower, much more sensual, hands freely roaming over your body. From your ass, toy your hips, to your chest, he couldn't stop himself - not with your intoxicating scent, engulfing his very being, with the small whimpers coming from you through the kiss. His hips moved involuntarily, grinding against your core. Fuck he was so hard it was almost painful, and you were so fucking wet for him. And he smelled it, god he smelled it, and he knew.

Suddenly, he flipped you two over, pushing you onto the bed and caging you between his arms. You were so gorgeous beneath him, hair tangled, slightly sweaty, eyes glazed over, heaving, with reddened lips. He wasted no time moving to leave heated kisses and darkened hickeys down your neck, scenting the absolute hell out of you. One hand moved under your shirt, exploring the soft skin on your stomach and pushing right underneath your bra. So warm, so soft, so fucking perfect, he wanted to feel all of you. And when the palm of his hand brushed over your hardened nipple, when you moaned so sweetly, when you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling on it so deliciously, fuck it was over for him.

"Let me undress you. I want to undress you. I want you naked underneath me." He mumbled, lost on the taste of your skin and the sound of your breathy moans.

"Then undress me, big boy~"

He left another searing kiss right on your lips, committing their softness to memory. Then he moved back just enough to grab the hem of your shirt to pull it up.

Knock knock knock

Fuck.

"Oi! MC! I think I ditched my phone there! Y'sleeping?"

Ace, of all times-

You two looked at each other, before hastily jumping off the bed, making yourself look as decent as possible.

Flushed beyond salvation, you looked around, indeed spotting Ace's phone on the floor. On the floor, which was about to be littered with your clothes-

Oh my god. Were you about to have sex with Jack?!

Grabbing the phone, you opened the door just a little bit and handed it to Ace. "Here."

"Damn, you seem pretty out of it, y'still drinking with Jack?"

Fuck, don't mention him right now.

"Yeah, we were just about to clean...up around here and...call it a night."

"Cool, I can wait for him so we can walk back together."

"Uh...we still have some cleaning up to do. You go back. Okay?" Please, just fucking go.

"Suuuuure. Yeah. Okay. Gotcha. G'night then."

And with that he was gone. Somehow, you knew that he knew. But perhaps, he was just too tired to mention it. Or maybe, he was saving all his teasing for tomorrow?

What about Jack?

You turned back, only to find him actually picking up the glasses and tidying up.

"You... don't actually have to do that, you know?"

"It's the uh ... Least I can do."

"Uh-huh."

Fuck. Why was this so awkward, this shouldn't be this awkward, you've known each other for years. Did you just seriously wash 3 years of friendship down the goddamn drain?!

"I...think we should talk." "I think I should go."

Really? Did you guys really say it at the exact same time? This isn't some shoujo anime-

"Can we-"

"Tomorrow?"

"Huh?"

"T-tomorrow. Talk tomorrow."

"I don't think I-"

"Let us be at least...sober."

Fuck. He had a point.

"Okay."

"Uh....Goodnight, then."

"Yeah... Goodnight.

Before he could leave, though, he turned around to look at you.

"I-"

Welp. Here goes nothing I guess. If tomorrow's gonna be awkward regardless, then you... Might as well... Right?

You stepped on your tippy toes and left the smallest of kisses on his cheek.

"Bye, Jack."

His eyes widened, tail gently swishing behind him.

"Bye, MC."

What a night.

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undertheopensky · 8 months ago

Text

Forging Tired

Whumptober Day 26: Working To Exhaustion

Characters: Four, Blue, Sky

Trigger warnings: None

Read on Ao3!

---

Sky doesn’t realise it until after dinner, but Four hasn’t banked the forge fires.

“I’m not done yet,” Four waves at the admittedly intimidating pile of repair work yet to be done. A couple of plates from Time’s armour probably need to be replaced entirely, they have such large holes in them.

“It’s getting real late. Don’t stay up too much longer, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Body’s not tired.” Four flexes one arm and gives him a grin that looks so much like Wind Sky’s eyes cross.

“Maybe not,” they sure hadn’t done much physical stuff today, just run around the village resupplying and gathering information, “but your brain still needs rest.”

This time Four snorts. “The brain is fast asleep, but that’s okay, we don’t need it for this.”

No one asks any more why Four sometimes refers to himself in the third person or plural. At best, he’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, and at worst, he’ll look at you like you’re the strange one. The closest they’ve gotten to an explanation is an offhanded, sympathetic “Yeah, we get it,” when Time first told them to stop asking about his timekeeping, because it was a holdover from a quest too traumatic to describe.

So, slightly weird, probably a Quest Thing, doesn’t seem to affect him day-to-day.

That said Sky’s a little concerned about him working with hot metal with his brain asleep.

“Are you sure? We can wait another day or two before setting out, I’m sure Time won’t mind. We don’t want you exhausting yourself over this.”

Four makes a rude noise, which is out of character enough Sky blinks. “I think I know my limits well enough, featherhead. Besides, forging’s not that hard. I wanna take advantage of actually having all my damn equipment for once, and goddess knows we probably won’t be here long. Our shit needs a lot of maintenance done. Don’t worry about the noise. The forge’s been soundproofed since we were little. Go away and sleep, featherhead, you need it more than us.”

He shoos Sky from the forge, polite but implacably firm.

Sky can’t exactly argue. Four is the smith here, and he knows himself best. If he says it’s fine, Sky will just have to believe him.

And as promised, as soon as the heavy door swings closed, the sounds of the forge muffle to almost nothing.

---

With Sky finally gone, Blue feels the tension ease out of him. Finally, some peace and quiet. He loves his brothers, and he supposes the heroes they’re travelling with aren’t TOO bad, but sometimes he just needs time alone in the quiet with his own thoughts and his own projects. There’s not a lot of privacy on the open road, or in a head crammed full of four distinct people.

Vio struggles with it, too, Blue knows, as he sets up the next few pieces of metal to heat and shovels fresh coke into the fire. But unlike Blue, the nerd is soothed by late nights spent reading or taking the darkest hours of watch, where Blue needs to do things to calm the itch in his brain. Armour and weapons maintenance is great for that - but it’s not always quiet. And waking everyone up with his activities would very much defeat the point.

Then, once he’s got things set up, Blue sits down at the bench with pliers and wire.

The worst thing about Sky’s mail is that the links are an eighth of an inch larger than standard - than literally everyone else’s. Blue had had to make a winding rod specifically for his damn mail, and has to double check every time before starting repairs to make sure he’s pulling from the right patch of spares.

If he had more time, he’d just make him a mail shirt from normal links. Standardise them across the board, and improve Sky’s resistance to piercing claws. But he doesn’t - they don’t - and besides that when this is all over Sky will be going back to his home in the clouds with its stupid mail measurements and its barely-there monster attacks and he’ll have no use for the close-set rings of modern mail and they’ll never see him again -

The forge fires burn hot enough that Blue can pretend it’s the air making his eyes sting.

Mending mail is busywork, stuff to keep his hands occupied while he waits for things to heat. It needs doing, and if he does it here then he can rivet the rings shut properly instead of the temporary road fixes (shit he needs to check Twilight’s mail he knows he put in a patch at one point but doesn’t remember riveting it in, need to do that before they leave) but some things can only be done at the forge. Like the plates of steel he’s got resting to the side, waiting to be turned into a new piece of Time’s armour.

He should probably get started on that actually so Blue puts aside the mail and reaches for his tongs. A lot of this is just shaping, forming the metal to the exact dimensions and curvature of Time’s body, and then adding buckle straps and point anchors so it can actually be attached. This is the loud part, metal-on-metal ringing and echoing in the enclosed stone room and making his vision swim just a little. He has to pause to blink it away. Does his head actually hurt, or is it just more echoes from the hammer?

Doesn’t matter; he’s got work to do. Blue checks the first piece for fit and moves on to the second; best to get this heavy work done before he gets tired. Working the steel cold takes more effort, but makes it less brittle in the end. Kind of important, that the metal sheets guarding someone’s body don’t shatter under a stiff blow, turning them from a defense into a hazard. You can get away with working horseshoes and stuff like metal fittings hot and then quenching them down, but it’s not worth it with plate armour.

Once he’s got the base curve in place, he checks the lines he drew earlier before his vision started to wobble, then hunts down the blunted chisel he needs. This is the fiddly bit. Blue sets the metal down on the wooden block with the groove specifically for this task, lining it up with the drawn lines, and starts hammering out the ridges.

It’s time-consuming, but the raised metal redirects weapons to less vulnerable points. Blue’s seen a sword swing into an arm then slide off into empty air, instead of an armpit or elbow, because of these ridges. They’re useful.

Time didn’t have any, originally. And while he can’t say for sure - Blue suspects that if he’d had them on his armour that first time a moblin got the jump on him, its spear wouldn’t have slid past the plates into his side quite so easily.

Four’s been quietly upgrading it piece by piece ever since.

The vambrace is harder, more of a curve to force the steel into, but he’s long practised at getting stubborn materials to cooperate. Once it’s done, and added to the pile he’s making of Time’s shit, he pulls the pattern steel Red had spent all day folding and forge welding from the fire. Already the basic shape of it is there: the tapered tip, the length of the blade, the narrow throat and tang. Once it’s finished, it’ll be a dagger for Hyrule. His current one has been sharpened so many times it’s thin enough to use as a lockpick, and they want him to have something good-quality to replace it, something that will last him.

(Will last him beyond this time of portals and black blood, because getting new equipment in his time is so, so difficult and they never want him to go without ever again, and one knife isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but it’s something they can do, and they’ll do their goddess-damn best work on it for him.)

It still needs some more shaping before it’s ready to go under the whetstone, though, so Blue tucks it back in the fire and picks up Wind’s knife, the one with the loose hilt. How the sailor expects to get anything done when he has to hold his entire hand at right angles to keep the thing straight Blue doesn’t know. Apparently he’d been stuffing it with fabric scraps to stabilise it, which, great, now Blue has to dig them all out before he can decide if the hilt is at all salvageable.

It doesn’t help that his fingers are a little shaky. Shit. Maybe he needs a water break.

He sets the dubiously-fixable knife aside while he drinks. He doesn’t feel thirsty. Dry-eyed, maybe, and his throat aches from the forge air, but the water doesn’t really help. Still, hydration’s important.

A sudden clank makes Blue drop his cup, water scattering on the floor as he spins. The fire flares - oh. A coal had - split, or settled, and the still-dull blade of Hyrule’s dagger had shifted and struck the edge. It looks about ready to go again anyway, so Blue grabs it - with tongs! He’s not an idiot! - and starts hammering an edge into it.

As the blade flattens out and becomes more knife than bar of metal Blue takes care to bevel off both edges neatly. He flips it, to make sure he gets both sides, then flips it again to even it out. He wants the balance on this thing perfect, and if it takes a bit of fiddling, all the better. That way he knows it’s good. Blue holds it up, eyeing the straightness of the blade from the side, and then down the length of it, and nods to himself, moving to set it. Good. He’ll let it cool a little before heating it again, and -

Blue stumbles. The blade clangs down on the bench he’d meant to set it on gently, spinning away from the tongs and fortunately not hitting any part of him with the still red-hot metal. Fuck, he’d forgotten to pick up his cup. It’s a good thing it’s so hot in here that all the water evaporated off or he might have slipped. Fuck.

He checks the blade - fuck, he dinged it - puts it back in the fire, then picks up his cup to set it back beside the water barrel. The metal handle is painfully hot under his fingers. Although - he could do with more water. His eyes are stinging again.

Blue drinks, long and slow. The water tastes metallic, or maybe that’s just the forge air coating his tongue. It settles uneasily. Doesn’t matter - his stomach will get over it.

He fixes the dent made when he dropped the half-made dagger, hammering until metal fills the gap and then hammering it out even again to repair the edge. He also spends more time carefully squinting at it to make sure it’s still straight, so long that the metal goes dark and cold.

Then back in the fire it goes.

Blue gets back to mail repairs, working rings into place, then riveting them shut with scraps from broken links. He considers, as he works, if the long-handled riveting pliers could be made to fit into their tool pouch. They can’t bring along the whole forge, that would be silly, but this one thing? They already carry the cutting pliers to make links with so it’s not like they need anything else for the rivets, and it doesn’t need heat treatment -

He pinches a fingertip with the pliers and swears loudly, shaking it and resisting the urge to shove it in his mouth - his hands are covered in oil and coal dust. Squinting at it - no real damage - he shakes it one more time and picks up the mail patch he dropped. It stings a little, to apply enough pressure to hold the metal fabric. Actually -

Checking the dagger, he pulls it from the fire and rests it on the anvil to cool. This is always time consuming, heating and cooling the steel to normalise it before the final edge can be put on. Heat it, then cool it, then heat it again; all part of ensuring the blade isn’t brittle and will hold its shape and its edge for as long as possible. It’s familiar in a way so ingrained he can almost touch it, watching the metal change colour. Fading from yellow, through red, down to the still blisteringly-hot but normal appearance of steel.

Blue blinks, and finds himself sitting on his preferred stool, metal still cooling in his tongs. Shit. When did he sit down? He’s wasting time, here. Back in the fire, back to work, fingertip still throbbing faintly.

Half the plates on Time’s tassets got ripped off during the fight with the iron knuckle, which are fiddly and annoying but not hard to replace. Once he’s got them shaped and punched Blue is tempted to just hand the lot off to Time for the old man to stitch them in place. Teach him to get distracted watching Twilight’s sword form. Shit, there’s so many of them, too. Time’s lucky his leg was in few enough pieces that Hyrule and Warriors could put it back together.

Blue hammers out scale after scale. Get the curve right; adjust the tongs, hammer out the part they’d hidden; set the edge, set the ridge, set it aside, and grab the next one. He piles them up on the metal workbench; they’d be less annoying to work with if he could just pile them in a coal shovel and dunk them in the fire to soften them, but even if they’re small they’re still armour and he needs to keep them as supple as possible.

And speaking of it’s time to pull the dagger again. The tongs grab it, fumble it, dump it back in the coals, then grab it agin. Blue is very careful as he sets it on the bench. He has no desire to set his own boots alight. This is the last cooling phase, though, so he can let the forge fire die down. Finally. His eyes itch and ache in the hot, dry air. He’d rub them if he wasn’t - still - covered in forge leavings.

Punch the holes for Time’s tasset scales; set them in his pile to deal with in the morning. Finally get the hilt off Wind’s knife and decide it is salvageable, actually, if he glues in a wedge of cedar to fill in the split that was letting it get loose in the first place. How did Wind even do that? Rewrap it in leather strips and it’ll be done; another job for the morning. When his hands aren’t so shaky. He’s getting glue everywhere, ugh.

…does he need to pull the dagger again? No, wait, it’s already on the bench. Does it need to go back in the fire? …no, he already decided it was done. He reaches to grab it, half-intending to measure it up for the hilt and crossguard, but hesitates at the heat radiating off it. Right. Fresh from the forge. Doesn’t look hot, but definitely is. He’ll leave it for an hour or so.

Blue shakes himself, hard, feeling the pull of it in his neck and his forehead. His head aches, behind his eyes. There’s a fine grey fuzz at the edges of his vision. Right, with the forge fire dying, he needs a bit more light. Where’s Vio’s lantern…?

By the too-pale magical light, Blue works, and works, until there’s nothing left to do but wind more wire into chainmail rings and weave them into the cuts and gashes left by enemy claws and weapons, tamp down rivets and move to the next section until he needs to wind out more rings -

It’s endless and monotonous and he can feel the screaming under his skin finally starting to cool, as the fire burns itself out.

Something they do need, he thinks as he pulls out the temporary patch he’d put in Twilight’s mail tunic, is a store of fully-finished rings. Hammering out their linking points and punching rivet holes is best done on an anvil. Then, as long as they have a stock of scrap wire for rivets (inevitable, they’re constantly damaging mail), the cutters and the riveting pliers, they can do repairs that are just as strong as the original work itself. Once they run out of wire, well, that’s more of an issue. The drawing plate is much too heavy to bring along with them.

Blue seals up the last ring in Twilight’s mail and sets it aside, then hops off the stool to go in search of the metal rods he needs to make wire. He knows they left a whole stack of them somewhere.

In truth, most forging doesn’t require a lot of raw strength. The weight of the hammer and the drag of gravity does a lot of the work, and all you need to do is direct it. Blue’s got more muscle from wielding a warhammer, honestly. The exception, he thinks distastefully, is wire drawing. That does need some force, since you’re dragging a piece of metal through smaller and smaller holes, not stretching it so much as drawing it out longer and longer and thinner and thinner, and of course it’s metal, it doesn’t want to do that.

Blue finally finds the basket of rods on a low shelf behind a huge box of half-finished nails - Red’s doing, surely - and carries it to the draw plate. There’s certainly no moving the thing to anywhere else. It weighs more than he does at least twice over, solid iron plate set into a heavy stone base.

Choosing a rod, Blue hammers out a quick point, feeds it through a hole that’s just a little smaller than its current size, clamps it, and starts to pull.

His eyes burn. His head aches. His fingers sting, all the little places where slips and cuts and burns have piled up over long hours. Without his mind keeping track of eight timers at once, it’s free to focus on the physical, and oh, he feels so heavy -

Blue breathes deep, metal and coal dust and ash, and feeds the wire into the next hole.

---

Sky is unhappy but unsurprised to find the patch of floor allocated to Four empty.

Weak morning light streams through the curtains. It’s just enough to see by as Sky checks that Legend’s unmoving form on the bed is just due to stiffness and exhaustion, not something more worrying, and tiptoes around scattered bedrolls. Twilight cracks an eye as he’s stepped over.

“A’right there?” he checks, voice low.

Sky smiles. “Just seein’ who’s up.”

Twilight grunts and to all appearances goes straight back to sleep. For all he wakes with the dawn on the ranch, he does enjoy his sleep, when he can get it.

Sky empathises but he’s got a mission.

Through the shop windows he spots Wild outside, running through the carefully prescribed stretches that kept his scars limber. Once he was done with those, he’d be all up in Four’s kitchen, eager to make food more complex than could be managed over a simple campfire. Four even had an oven, which Wild had been very excited about.

Still, breakfast will come later. The forge door still stands closed, just as it had last night after Four kicked him out. Moving slow, Sky eases the heavy door open, hoping to find him passed out in a corner somewhere.

Instead Four is sitting upright at the workbench. The winding rod in his hands is familiar, though he’s moving far slower than usual, and his hands shake when he reaches for the pliers.

“Four, have you slept at all?” Sky asks, disappointed.

“Huh?” Four turns to look at him, and there’s a distinct pause before recognition flickers. “Oh, Sky. I’m nearly done with your mail. Or…” He squints at the links on the table. “No, mail’s finished. Spare rings. We’re always running out.”

“Sleep, Four,” Sky stresses. “Goddess - have you been working all night?” He eyes up the frankly ludicrous pile of mending that now sits on the other side of the bench from where it started, separated into neat piles by owner. And Four is still going - slowly cutting rings off the spiral, one by one.

“‘M fine.”

He changes tacks. “Four, c’mon. It’s time for breakfast. Wild will sulk if it gets cold, you know he will.”

Four blinks at him, visibly hazy with exhaustion, and finally, slowly, drags himself to his feet. He looks worse, upright. He’s pale and a little haggard, swaying slightly just standing in place. Goddess. He’s going to be an utter wreck today, and they’re supposed to head out for the Castor Wilds later. Maybe Sky can convince Time to wait until after lunch and Four will revive some after a nap -

The smith’s feet tangle. Sky lunges to catch him -

Four catches himself with a quick shake of the head. “Phew, close one,” he mutters. He brushes past Sky into the rest of the house, steps suddenly quick and sure. “C’mon, Sky,” he calls over his shoulder, “help me keep Wild from dirtying every pan I own, I do not want to do dishes today.”

He still looks distinctly unwell over breakfast, but the shake in his hands, the sway in his step, the dull slowness of his eyes and responses - all that is gone like it was never there. He even smiles and keeps up with the conversation. Sky doesn’t know what to make of it.

(In the back of his mind, though, he wonders.)

#whumptober 2023 #linked universe #lu blue #lu four #lu sky #lu fic #skies writes #i swear this was supposed to be a whump fic but it turned into 3000 words of me infodumping about blacksmithing

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usedpidemo · 8 months ago

Text

Update - 3rd year anniversary! (and some future plans, a reflection, etc.)

Hi everyone! π here.

By the time this post is up, it'll be the 13th of May. Three years since I began my writing journey and this Tumblr blog. Three years. Time flies by so fast. I was close to graduating senior high after it was delayed because pandemic, had my graduation in an empty room basically, now I'm hitting my third year of college. Crazy stuff.

With that said, here are the stats + timetable of the blog so far:

First work: Sandwich (Wendy) (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m)

Highest note count: Tell your friends (Yujin x Wonyoung) (published 01/14/23, 1274 notes)

Number of works published: 91 fics (1 fic every 12.03 days)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days)

1000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days)

2000 followers: June 18, 2022 (401 days)

3000 followers: November 12, 2022 (548 days)

4000 followers: May 22, 2023 (740 days)

5000 followers: December 18, 2023 (950 days)

Current follower count: 5615 (1 new follower every 5.12 days)

It's been a hectic final month of college, so I apologize for the lack of activity in recent times :< But summer is coming up very soon, so hopefully I'll have all the time in the world to write more till then! I will say, a new fic is on the near horizon, so please be on the lookout!

I would like to take the opportunity to thank every single of you, whether reader, lurker, or a fellow writer for your support! Especially during these lull times, your unwavering support has kept me afloat and has been a motivation in continuing to write. Love you guys as always. Here's to another fruitful year <3

From this point, this part will be an overall reflection and life summary of the previous year, my thoughts on some personal matters, and some ideas I've been contemplating. If you don't wanna read this, you can stop here.

I miss 2023 quite a bit, not gonna lie. I know nostalgia can quickly grow warm and fuzzy, seeing the past through rose tinted lens, but I'll admit that 2024 hasn't been off to the start I envisioned it to be. That year was mostly peak for me, and I could even argue it's my favorite year to live out based on all my experiences. Traveling to new places, finally attending live events, interacting with my K-pop biases, and so on—it really felt like the best was yet to come with how 2023 flowed and transitioned into the new year.

Five months in, and I am struggling. Horribly. Most plans, dreams, and ideas have gone up in smoke, and it's just one devastating gut punch after another. I have a shitty professor in one major that basically made me check out of that class, and I don't know my family will react when I tell them I have to repeat said class because that professor was a dick. My family's been infighting on a daily basis, and I'm mostly collateral damage to them. Not one week can go by without some serious confrontation between them. There was a brief health scare with my mother, but that seems to be a nothing matter; thank God she'll be okay.

All this just makes life so deflating, in all honesty. I get that no life is without struggle, but I genuinely don't know when we'll be in the clear. Not anytime soon, I reckon. In these tough times, there's very little comfort except the past, when everything was pretty all right for the most part. It's been demotivating to write when mom comes forward with another grievance with my sister. It's hard to write when you have a professor who likes to power trip their students into submission. It's hard when you don't know how to admit to your mother that he failed his one class because of said power tripping professor.

But that doesn't mean I will let it eat me alive. I know we've been through some utter lows in the past. And we always get back up. If no one has us, then God does.

Summer break is fast approaching and I want to fix things. Even in my own little way. I know none of what I'm saying has anything to do with writing degenerate stories about hot K-pop idols, but real life circumstances have definitely affected me more than I can brush off. I should be calm, unfazed, undeterred.

After all, some stories are meant to be finished. They just take a more unconventional route. Ask Cody.

With all that being said, I will finish these commissions over the next two months. I'm really sorry to everyone who requested and paid for their stories months and months ago; I genuinely feel bad for not getting these out on time, but I am very mindful of quality control, and I have no one to blame but myself for being a slacker and lazy worker. Despite my feelings, I should remain professional—that's what being a worker means.

A lifestyle overhaul is definitely in my list of things to improve over the summer too. Figuring out how to get writing done, finding ways to alleviate my PokeRogue addiction (GOTY), whilst having a healthy work/life balance and not losing my sanity over it. Or worse, burning out.

And I want to take this opportunity to thank all my friends—peach, caps, majorblinks, chunk, frisky, raf, c.o, levi, sins, iz, ken, v1n, ddeun, notions, kevin, eros, brandon, kaede, svn, frisky, cray, rpg, prael—for putting up with my shit for another year. This life is tough, but you guys make it tolerable. Thank you for letting me air out my grievances even when it wasn't the best time to. I pray that when everything passes, I'm able to repay you all in some shape or form generously.

And to you, dear reader, for making it this far, thank you. Whether you've been with me since day one, or day 1094, as a commenter, reposter, liking, or just passing by/lurking, thank you for giving me a chance. Without you, all of this would have been for nothing. I don't know where I would be now if I didn't take that chance, that leap of faith back in 2021, and it's because of you I am able to keep doing this for the love of the game.

With grace,

Peter / π

#update #anniversary

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mxssingmemories · 1 year ago

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brave // sam and dean x sister!reader

summary: you've been battling a secret addiction for months. when your brothers finally notice, they do their best to get you through it.

wc: 2k~

warnings: weed, angsty shit, withdrawal, drug use

a/n: this was written for the one and only @supernerdycookietrashblrr! hope ya like it, sorry it took so long

You knew that one of your brothers would catch on soon enough. They were both incredibly observant thanks to years of being in the hunting business, so it didn't surprise you when Sam caught on after only a month.

He'd noticed little things first. You stopped bringing home papers or report cards with big fat A's written on the front in red ink. Then came the attitude.

You're a sweet teenager, or at least you were. At 16, Sam knew you might be prone to episodes of attitude or teenage rebellion. What he wasn't prepared for was the constant snarky attitude, and, for lack of a better word, downright bitchy behavior. He genuinely had no idea what to do, and it steadily got worse as he put off having the conversation he knew he had to have with you.

The turning point for him came when your appearance changed drastically. Your eyes were bloodshot almost every time he looked at you, and your shaky hands were obvious as you tried to hold your gun steady. Your safety on hunts-and possibly in daily life-was obviously at risk, and he wasn't going to leave that alone.

"Jesus, Dean! How can you not see it? She's fucking shaking! Her eyes are always bloodshot and she's got the attitude of a drug addict!" he shouted, the volume of it making the sound travel to your room. Your heart beat faster in your chest as you tried to ignore it, putting headphones in your ears as you blinked away the stray tears in your eyes.

With a sigh, you pulled a joint out from the container under your bed. Your hand finally grabbed a lighter after fumbling for one for what felt like an hour. You flicked the lighter open, watching the flame dance for a minute before bringing it to the tip of the joint.

A loud cough was forced out of you as you inhaled deeply, the smoke temporarily filling your lungs as you allowed yourself to zone out. You continued this process until the joint was almost gone, the lines of reality blurring sweetly as you allowed yourself to feel. You were pleasantly distracted, seemingly watching everything from third person.

You were so out of it, though, that you missed the knock at the door. You also missed the more frantic ones after thirty seconds, and the door slamming open. Unfortunately, you didn't miss Sam's loud yell.

"What the fuck?!" he shouted, watching you as you immediately threw the lit joint and headphones on the floor.

Angrily, he stomped it out, walking closer to you as fast as humanly possible.

"I fucking knew something was wrong. What the hell, kid? Why didn't you tell us sooner! We could've caught this shit early! You can't just sit here and get high on God knows what!" he practically screamed in your face. You sat there silently and took it, allowing him to get whatever he needed to say out before you explained yourself. To your credit, thinking was a little hard-you were still high, although thankfully not as much as you were before he walked into the room. The minute he stopped talking, you began.

"You don't get it." you said quietly, teary eyes making contact with fierce ones. "I've tried everything I could. You think I'd want to talk to you about it? Sam, you and Dean are on the road almost every day. I only come on half of the hunts you guys go on, and when I do, I'm usually put to the side like I mean nothing! Do you know how that feels? I know you guys love me but you're shit at showing it!"

"Listen-" Sam started, but you immediately cut him off.

"No! I can't just sit here and listen anymore! I can't even stand being sober! You know I'm high on almost every hunt we go on, right? Did you even notice that?"

At these words, your brother's eyes widened in shock. You knew he probably didn't, but after walking in on you with a joint to your lips you thought he would assume so. It didn't make it hurt any less, either.

"Why do you even care?" you muttered, a sob coming through on your last word. It all hit you in that moment; your brother, who you worked so hard to hide it from, had caught you with a joint in your hand. He didn't even just catch you high, he caught you in the process of doing it. You curled in on yourself almost immediately, not wanting to be more vulnerable than you already were. Your whole body shook as you involuntarily let go.

"Dammit," your brother mumbled as he sat down softly on the bed, hoisting you into his lap as he cradled you in his chest. You were still his little sister no matter what. At that moment, you went from 17 to 7 in his mind, and he let his instincts take over.

You sobbed into his chest quietly as he rocked you back and forth, his hands rubbing your back softly while he reassured you. You let yourself break in that room, your brother's steady arms around you letting you feel safe for the first time in months.

This feeling was disturbed in less than 5 seconds when Dean walked in the room.

He made eye contact with Sam quickly to asses the situation, briefly trying to read his face before giving up and scanning the room. His eyes almost immediately landed on the joint laying on the floor. Dean's jaw clenched the moment he saw it, the look in his eyes turning from concerned to deadly in just a few seconds.

He picked it up quickly, turning his gaze back to you. The disappointment in his eyes was obvious as he walked over to you both.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he growled, voice strong with frustration.

You sobbed even harder in Sam's arms, the weight of everything coming down onto your shoulders all at once. The realization of how much you'd hurt yourself and your brothers wasted over you, causing you to curl in on yourself even further.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you choked out in between sobs, clutching the fabric of your brother's shirt like a lifeline. Dean's face softened ever so slightly as he came to your side, kneeling down in front of you. His voice was gentler than before as you did your best to meet his eyes.

"I know what you're going through, kid. You just have to understand we're here for you, yeah? We're gonna get you help." he reassured, placing a hand on your arm. You instinctively flinched back, tucking your head back into Sam's chest. You missed the look of hurt on Dean's face, his own eyes welling up with tears as he started to process the situation.

Sam signaled for Dean to leave the room for a minute, allowing him to get you in a suitable position and hopefully recover from the situation a little bit. He shifted slightly to where you were sitting up instead of hidden, meeting your eyes with a gentle smile.

"You're alright, kiddo. I've got you. We're gonna get through this, hm? There's a rehab center right around the corner-"

"No. No! No rehab! Please, Sam, I can't do that, you don't understand-" you shouted, almost hyperventilating as you defended yourself. There was nothing worse than that in your current state of mind.

"Okay, okay," he relented, rubbing your back slowly. The tension visibly left your body as you took a deep breath. "We'll try it at home, but if it doesn't work, you know we're gonna have to do that, right?"

You nodded resignedly, leaning back into his chest as you kept breathing as deeply as you could. You would have the difficult conversation in the morning-for now, you just wanted comfort, and Sam was all too willing to give it.

Morning came sooner than you would've liked it to. The bright sun shone through the curtains as you stretched, rubbing your eyes while forcing your feet on the floor. The voices coming from the dining room were quiet; the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the bunker led you to it.

Your presence startled both Sam and Dean, so much so that Dean dropped a piece of bacon on the floor.

"Morning, kid," he greeted you, bending down to grab the bacon. You cringed as he put it right in his mouth, Sam side-eyeing him from the other side of the table.

You hesitated before taking a seat at the table, the tension in the room thick enough that you could cut it with a knife if you wanted to. Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Okay, we've talked about this, and we're going to give this a shot at home." he said, his voice firm but with more compassion than you thought you deserved. "We're going to be here every step of the way, but this means that you're going to have to follow the rules we set, okay? No exceptions."

You nodded gratefully, tears springing in your eyes at the thought that you'd have to live without your friend. Gently, you felt Dean wrap his arms around you, and for once, you let him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into your ear. "I was a dick, and you didn't deserve that. I'm still pissed, but not at you. You're going through more than we knew and I didn't see that. I love you."

There was no restraint left in you as tears welled up in your eyes. You allowed them to run down your face freely as you buried your face in his shirt.

You could feel the material getting wetter and wetter with each passing second. Either he didn't notice or he didn't care; he just kept holding you through it.

When the tears subsided, you pulled away from your brother. Determination was in your eyes as you looked him in the face, placing a firm smile on your face quickly.

"Thank you," you whispered, turning to Sam. "Both of you."

They both nodded, each having a hold of one of your hands and squeezing gently. The detox would start in a few hours-you'd been smoking at least two joints every day for long enough to know this as a fact-but you let the moment be still for a minute. This calm was something you wanted to have fresh in your mind for the coming hours.

As you'd predicted, the withdrawal hit around midday. The anxiety was the first symptom to come. Your leg shook constantly, the tapping echoing through the living room loudly.

Your brothers exchanged worried glances as they watched you sit on the couch with your head in your hands, the constant fidgeting not going unnoticed by either. Of course they'd done their research on this, so everything was expected, but it hit hard having to see it firsthand.

The next symptom to hit you was unfortunately the nausea. You bolted up quickly from the couch, running to the nearest bathroom just in time to get up the light breakfast you'd had this morning. Two pairs of footsteps trailed behind you, eventually crouching down beside you. Sam held your hair back while Dean rubbed your back, letting you get it all out.

Once the worst had passed, Sam helped you clean up and guided you carefully back to the couch.

"I can't do this shit," you muttered weakly, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Listen to me," Dean sighed. "Yes you can. Sam's done it, hell I've done it. You are stronger than this you hear me? We'll guide you through it. You know damn well you're never gonna be alone in this," he reassured quietly.

As his words washed over you, you sat quietly with your hand in his. Somehow he'd managed to stir up a flicker of hope and determination in your heart and you swore right then and there to use it for good.

Days of being sober turned into weeks, those weeks gradually turning into months until you hit one year.

"Mornin', kiddo," Sam smiled, spatula in his left hand as he waved at you with the other. You smiled back, mumbling your own greeting before sitting down across the table from Dean.

"Today's a big day, hm?" he asked, making eye contact with you from across the table.

"Yeah, it is. Just-" you cut yourself off with a whimper, which surprised the both of you and scared the shit out of Dean, dropping his spatula as he turned to make sure you were alright. Sam's hand instantly covered yours, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand as he urged you to continue.

"Thank you guys for being here. I don't think I could've made it without you. I was a bit of an idiot to think you didn't care and I can't thank you enough for proving you do. I love you both so much," you whispered, allowing a few stray tears to leak out of your eyes.

Dean said nothing as he turned the burner off, walking over and pulling your head into his chest. Sam joined the hug not 5 seconds later, and you let yourself breathe. The sense of safety you felt like this couldn't be compared to anything, and you thanked Chuck for them and their love.

The thought of even touching weed hadn't come to your mind in at least 5 months. It definitely wasn't easy to get to the place you were now, but you were finally okay. Even though you hadn't said it, it had a lot more to do with your brothers than they thought.

#sister!winchester #sam x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester #sister!reader #my writing

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bao4aohao · 4 months ago

Text

chap 3 - detention

-> tsukishima's yandere arc is coming -> warnings !! - none

" WHAT? YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

you slammed on the desk infront of you before retreating, saying a small sorry for slamming.

you stared at the principle disapproval expression as he sighed. he placed his hands together and gesture you to sit down.

" well I'm sorry ms y/n, there were many witness of the fight. it would just be a 3 hour detention and I will rule it as self defence. " he tried to compromised.

he gave you a pity look before sending you away. you closed the door behind you as you walked out of the principle room.

Detention was not a common thing for you. Back in high school, you used to be troubled kid but it changed once you saw your mother on his death bed, fighting cancer.

you felt guilty for bring so much trouble to her but all she does is comfort you like a little child. her kindness has led a change of heart inside you and you turned over a new leaf after spring break.

your grades improved, you stopped getting into fights and more people start to approach you after seeing you become a gentler person.

you texted shoyou about the detention news and he sent you a selfie of him eating in response. you mentally want to strangle him but you knew deep down he cared for you.

walking to the classroom that you have been told to go to. you slowly opened the door peeking inside, hoping no one is there.

" oh wow look who finally arrived "

a voice echoed from the end of the seats. you followed where the voice came from and saw tsukishima walking down.

" have a seat, detention will start now " he said, placing a paper in front of you.

you sat down on the given seat and saw some math questions. however, the more you stared you realised that this are the topics not given to first years in uni but third years.

" urm sir, I don't get why I have to do this? isn't this for third years? " you genuinely asked.

he dragged a chair nearby loudly and placed the chair in front of your desk, facing you.

he sat down and said, " that's why I will be teaching you right now. don't you always wanted to be ahead of class, hmm? " he smirked, knowing my weakness.

' shit he's right..it woulddd be good to be ahead of class.. ' you sighed. you thought for a second then smiled as you bend down to dig for your materials from your bag.

when you were ready to start, he started to teach you the basics. you were surprised with the way he was teaching, usually he would glare and have no patience towards his students. To him, patience is something you earn and not everyone can do that.

somehow, you managed to pass that step. knowing how strict and scary he was, you were scared that you might get scolded

" well you have to solve the intersection before integrating the number here. that's why your answer for C was wrong. " he calming corrected. He then analyzed the rest of you equations, focusing on the paper.

you slowly glanced at his face for a second, he was holding a concentrating expression. Brows were furrowed, lips were shut tight as his eyes travelled up and down, scanning more anymore errors.

' I would tap that ' small blush crept your cheeks.

while writing, you suddenly had a crammed in your hand causing you to drop your pen on the ground.

you quickly bent to grab the pen but the blonde was having the exact same thought as you. the two of hands conisidencely reached out for the pen, but instead touched each other.

you instantly retracted your hand while tsukishima picked up the pen and passed it back to you.

you quietly thanked him before getting back on your work.

" why do you seem so tense, y/n? " he nonchalantly asked, as if nothing had happen.

" it's nothing sir.. " you replied, not looking up.

" call me kei, y/n. Let's leave the formalities shall we? I'm not too old too you know. " he casually said.

" o-ok kei..how old are you then? you seem really young for a teacher.. " you hestitately asked.

he snapped out of his concentration and chuckled before facing you.

" why don't you find out? " he mumbled.

" what was that? " you asked.

" nothing. I'm 25 if you're curious. I'm aiming to be a professor so the head of education sent me here for training as a new teacher. They say it is to test my ability whether I could teach right or not, basically. " he explained.

we carried on with the math problems and soon, I was getting tired and bored.

" well, that's it for today. Good job y/n, you lasted more than what I have expected " he patted your head as you smiled in returned

he stood up dusting his pants while packing his things. we continued the conversation as I began to ask more questions. This led to hours of talking and laughter. You were glad he wasn't a creepy old guy because imagine having a small infatuation on an old man.

" so you skipped a few levels that's why you're so young for a teacher!? " you awed.

the two of you walked out of the classroom and headed out of the school.

" that's right dear, that's why you're only five years younger " he smirked, seeing how amazed you were definitely fed his ego, especially by you.

This detention wasn't that bad after-all. After this incident, he did proposed to you if you would like more after school tutoring with him for advance mathematics, which you agreed instantly.

before he left the premises, you shyly tugging his sleeves before he walked the opposite direction from you.

" um..would I be able to contact you since I need to know more about the details for our tutoring? " you gestured your phone to him, hoping he would take it.

he stared for a bit which caused you to retract your hand but he caught it on time.

" you don't have to! if you feel uncom- " you were interuppted with a short deep chuckle that vibrates down your skin, feeling the goosebumps instantly.

" I was just teasing you y/n "

he took you phone and tap on the keys before returning it back to you.

" you better get home, it's quite late already. " he said, checking the time on his watch.

you stared at the glommy sky which indicates it would going to rain soon. you bowed and thanked him.

his arm suddenly grabbed you from the side, pulling you close hitting chest.

" huh- " you were confused and shocked by the sudden movement. but before you could react, a few crows zoomed pass almost attacking your face if it weren't for tsukishima, or you can say kei.

" jeez y/n you really need to watch out for the crows.. "

you thanked him profusely before running away in embarrassment.

" .. since they hunt previous doves like you " he finished. he creepily smiled thinking to himself.

he slowly walked the other direction into the darkness of the night.

you settled down on the bed after a long day in school. you already changed into your pjs and done your skincare.

however a suddenly thought came into your mind.

' how did he know my age? ' you wondered for awhile. you didn't mention your age or anything personal.

you shrugged at the thought thinking you were just overthinking it.

...or were you?

prev | next | main pg

NOTES

It's coming soon guys..calm before the storm hehe but how did know your age?

#haikyuu #hq #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #hq fanfic #bao4aohao's fic

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incandescent-creativity · 4 months ago

Text

It's still technically Sunday for me so--

Snippet Sunday a new writeblr activity from @tracle0 (post is here)

This is from FLOAT, since that's what I'm working on lately!

🌊🦑🌊🦑🌊🦑

“Hang on, what do you mean ‘back’ on Earth? What do you mean, specific memories ‘of Earth’?” My head swims, but the dizziness has nothing to do with the movement of the ocean. “We’re not on Earth?”

“Not anymore,” Aspen confirms.

“No,” the word pops out of my mouth before I can straighten out what I think of the news. “No, you’re wrong.”

My denial doesn’t faze her. Aspen doesn’t move from her relaxed position among the pillows. Her expression doesn’t even change—she just continues listening to me.

“How can we be on a different planet?” I demand. “We’ve never been able to find other planets that we could live on, let alone travel to. We’ve never even made it to the planets in our own solar system.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Aspen says, infuriatingly calm.

Logically, my brain knows that it’s not her fault, but my racing heart and stinging eyes are telling me otherwise. Pulled to my feet by it all, I manage to not fall over. That’s good—that’s going to be step one in escaping.

“River,” Aspen says, also standing from the bed that we were just settling into.

“Stop it,” I snap.

I can’t choose between glaring at her and looking towards the door, my escape route. In the end, I glare so hard a third eye opens on my left cheek and keeps an eye on the door for me. The split vision is disorienting at first, and I do end up leaning left before I recapture my balance, but it’s easier to parse than the dozens of eyes that sprouted as a kraken.

“Just because I can do—do weird stuff now, doesn’t mean we’re on a different planet,” I tell her.

“I’m not lying,” Aspen says, sounding slightly less calm as her gaze catches on the new eye. I almost want her to say something, just to use it as an excuse to see what I can grow next.

“Prove it,” I challenge.

“We’ll have to go outside,” she tells me. “I can introduce you to Venus, my second in command, too.”

"No,” I say again, shaking my head and closing the third eye to prevent dizzying myself further. “If we have to go outside, it should just be us. Tell her to leave, then I’ll join you.”

“I can’t do that,” Aspen tells me.

“And I can’t have her seeing me like this,” I argue, gesturing to the third eye on my face.

“Dismissing her will only make her more suspicious,” Aspen says. She isn’t arguing with me—she’s still calm enough to present straightforward facts for my consideration. “And you’re going to have to meet her at some point.”

The idea of another crew member staring at me douses whatever fire had been building in me. I can’t get rid of Aspen; she already knows. But I don’t want to have to meet a new person while the odds of them rejecting me for having too many limbs and eyes and who knows what else.

“It’s not the meeting her,” I lie. “It’s the…” The what? The freak show factor? The way I feel like a fucked up werewolf? “The shapeshifting.”

“What about it?” Aspen asks, as if it’s not a gigantic issue.

No longer willing to make a break for it, I close the eye looking at the door for the final time. I feel the skin of my cheek smooth over as the nerve severs from my brain and slides out of my face like a hair that got caught in my mouth. Not knowing what else to do, I catch the eyeball in my hand. It’s warm, and damp, and the iris isn’t the dark brown color that my eyes normally are.

I hold it up to Aspen, who, remarkably, doesn’t flinch.

“I can’t have this be my introduction, Aspen,” I say, as cowardly as it is. “I want to make a good first impression, and then share the news once they know me as me. Not as a squid, or as anything else.”

The captain of the Endurance regards me for a silent moment. I do my best to meet her gaze and stand my ground. I’m not part of her crew; I’m stuck on her ship for now, but I haven’t signed anything. She can’t give me orders and expect me to obey them. I don’t know what I’ll say if she tries to, but I haven’t known what to say this whole conversation, so that won’t be anything new.

“I understand your… social concerns,” she says, pausing to try and figure out how to summarize what I just said. “But my crew is trustworthy. I don’t bring anybody aboard who isn’t completely focused on our survival. What I’m trying to say is—they can keep a secret.”

“I’m not trying to have it kept a secret from anybody else,” I point out. “It’s them I don’t want to know.”

“I generally try to share everything with my crew,” she says, still trying to persuade me.

“And I’m asking you not to share this.”

I don’t know what else I can say. I really don’t think it’s so difficult to understand why I don’t want to become this ship’s resident outcast, shunned for my randomly acquired random monstrous abilities, but Aspen is taking another moment to think about my request.

It turns out to be a much shorter pause than the rest of her hesitations have been. After she comes to her conclusion, she steps back towards the wall and unhooks the latch to open the porthole window. The sound of the waves lapping up against the boat gets significantly louder, taking center stage instead of just being a background irritation.

“Here, you can toss your extra eye out through this. Feed some fish.”

#float wip #my excerpt #my writing #character: river #is this exposition YES is it fun ALSO YES

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nofomogirl · 1 year ago

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Metatron's manipulation step by step

Part 3: The Entrance

Part 1 - where I discuss the significance of the coffee.

Part 2 - where I take a look back at season 1

Ok, time to actually get to the promised "step by step" part and look very closely at what Metatron is doing, from the moment he appears on Earth to the very (heartbreaking) end of the episode (and the season, and the story so far). Well, in this part I'll stop when he sends the Angels away but we'll get to the very end eventually.

We first see Metatron on Earth when Crowley is escorting Nina and Maggie out of the bookshop. He's standing in line in front of Give me coffee or give me death, waiting for the shop to open and I think we should really stress the significance of that. Not his purchase of coffee and conversation with Nina - though they are important too - but the sole fact that he's there, in the street, in the queue, and NOT IN THE BOOKSHOP.

Gabriel has just gotten his memory back. His affair with Beelzebub has just been brought to light. Michael, Uriel, Saraqael, Dagon, Shax, and Furfur are shouting over each other about what should be done with them, while Beelzebub and Gabriel hold hands. They're still there! Nothing is decided yet.

But apparently, Metatron was more interested in buying coffee than confronting the Archangel who escaped his judgment.

I mean, I don't think anybody ever doubted that Meteron traveled to Earth specifically to talk to Aziraphale, and that was his top priority. It's not exactly a revelation. But it still baffled me just how little he cared about Gabriel's fate. Even at the point when he still might have influenced it. After the second rewatch I started drawing my conclusions from that about Metatron's personality and taking notes, but after the third time, I realized I was missing the point. Metatron's decision to stay out of Gabriel's business wasn't informed by how much he did or didn't care about it. It was all about how it would make him look if he was seen involved.

Aziraphale already had a rather unfavorable impression of him from their previous encounter (season 1) and now our beloved dorky Principality got himself involved in Gabriel's case, risking his safety to protect the Archangel from Heaven. And it was Metatron who was presiding over Gabriel's trial and decided Gabriel's punishment would be to have his memories erased.

Entering the bookshop while Gabriel was still there, while his fate was still being discussed, posed a serious risk of exposing Metatron's role in the whole mess. Entering after it all blew over meant that Aziraphale didn't have a chance to make a connection.

Now let's look at the exact circumstances under which Metatron did enter the bookshop.

He came in at the exact moment Michael was threatening Aziraphale to erase his existence just so he could put a stop to it and chastise the Archangels. He immediately steps into a role of a savior and a voice of reason.

Let's dissect it a little.

Michael's exact words are "I am authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life".

But Metatron insists she "doesn't have the authority to do anything like that".

That begs the question: if Michael really was wrong and never could use the Book, where did she get the idea that she could? True, Michael is portrayed as particularly dim and vain this season. She does attribute herself to more power than she actually has. But her phrasing strongly implies that it was a one-time thing. Michael doesn't think she can use the Book at will, at any time, against whomever she pleases. She believes she has the authorization to use it in this specific instance. That's a strange thing to be confused about, don't you think?

Another glaringly strange thing is how Archangels don't seem to know who Metatron is.

The only person to recognize him immediately is Crowley, which makes sense, considering he had just watched Gabriel's trial. He says the last time he saw the guy, he was a giant floating head, and that triggers Aziraphale's memory, which again, makes sense. In season 1 it was clear Aziraphale had never seen Metatron before - he asked if he was talking to God, and Metatron needed to introduce himself - and it's been a couple of years since then. He hasn't forgotten him but he needed a little tip to recognize him in a different getup.

It's the Archangels' reaction that doesn't make sense. They had all been present at the trial. Saraqael had seen it again at the same time Crowley did. There's no logical reason why they should be so oblivious.

There are quite a few theories about this, the most common being that Crowley recognizes Metatron because he used to be such a high-ranking angel before the Fall, and from all the supernatural entities in the room he knew Metatron the best. And while I am inclined to believe Crowley indeed used to be a big shot in Heaven, I don't think it's a satisfactory explanation for this situation. If that was all there was, there would be no reason for all three of the Archangels to not connect the dots at the same time Aziraphale did. But they didn't. It's only when the Metatron is explicitly called the Metatron that they finally see it.

Personally, I think Metatron is responsible for both things - Michael's misguided belief she had the power to use the Book of Life & and all Archangels suddenly not recognizing Metatron's face, voice, and presence.

Why?

Because it made the Archangels look really bad.

How would it benefit him?

Well, answer honestly, when Metatron first appeared and started scolding the Archangels like they were misbehaving kids, wasn't that satisfying? Didn't you like him just for that short moment?

I sure did, and I believe that was the point. Except that the performance wasn't for our, the audience's sake, but for Aziraphale's. He makes a whole performance of exposing how incompetent the Archangels are and how outraged he is with that.

And what's even more interesting, right from the moment he enters Metatron speaks like Aziraphale! I didn't notice it at first because he is played by Sir Derek Jacobi and old-fashioned language certainly becomes him. But he doesn't speak this way in Heaven! He doesn't say things like "balderdash" or "piffle" or "spit spot". That's Aziraphale's gimmick.

In other words, Metatron says things Aziraphale very likely always wanted to say, and to boot, he says them in the exact manner Aziraphale would actually say them if he had the power. He plays out a fantasy for our poor Principality, who most likely was never backed by anybody in Heaven, and his issues with Archangels were never validated by anybody.

Metatron draws a very clear line between himself and the Archangels. He shows that they are the problem, they are incompetent, they are unreasonable. Not him.

Which is the first step in convincing Aziraphale that maybe he's worth listening to at least.

Continued in Part 4: Putting on a human face

#good omens 2 #good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens meta

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jimmyogames · 2 months ago

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Game Feel and How It Can Make or Break an Experience

What's up. I'm Jimmy, also known as JCJimmy, also known as "shitty Ridley", also known as yet another douchebag on the internet.

Things I hate about the essays I see online: meandering, summarizing, and barely-supported theses. It's my goal with this blog to avoid these pitfalls, or may God or Allah or whoever strike me down with a flaming, nuclear anvil like the proverbial Looney Tune I am.

With that out of the way, today I want to talk about "game feel", and particularly how it can strongly affect one's ability to enjoy games regardless of their other qualities.

Let's start from the top: what the fuck does "game feel" even mean? Video games are usually on screens, right? Is game feel the sensation of a cold, Dorito-smeared screen against your equally-smeared hands? No. Is it the Dorito-smeared controller in your hands? Partially, but also no. Believe it or not, what I call "game feel" has nothing to do with Doritos at all!

When I say "game feel", I'm actually talking about a few different things — all bunched together like three kids in a trench coat. The elements of game feel are "controls", "pacing", and "feedback". Let's explore each of these one at a time, starting with controls.

So obviously, what makes video games stand apart from movies is that you have the ability to play them — to control them, interact with them, influence the events within to produce various outcomes. A movie will always go through the same series of scenes at the exact same pace, every single time. Video games are the exact opposite: there are infinitely many ways that they can play out depending on the unique series of command any given player inputs. That's the core of games as a whole, even beyond the digital realm. What you do matters.

But games are as varied as the people who play them, and every game controls differently, has different ways for you to interface with them. In Pong, for instance, you can only move your paddle up and down, and that movement is instantaneous the millisecond you move your joystick. Then you have something like the original Super Mario Bros. Compared to the titles that came after it, the very first Mario is ludicrously simple; yet compared to Pong, it might as well be a leap into a new dimension. Pressing the arrows on the D-pad doesn't just move Mario any which way instantly. First of all, you can only move left and right; vertical movement is controlled by the jump button. Beyond that, unlike in Pong, Mario is governed by a set of physics. Just like in real life, he has to build up to his maximum speed and ramp down when he wants to stop. Jumping has a distinct arch and is affected by the speed at which you were travelling. Running and jumping are ostensibly Mario's only mechanics, but you can see just how complicated his control is versus what came before, yeah?

Well, as we all know, just as there was a leap from Pong to Super Mario Bros., video games would only become more and more complex with time. Third-person action games like Resident Evil 4 and Dark Souls make the NES look like a toy for infants with how many inputs there are to learn and master; and the less I say about DOOM: Eternal's trillions of inputs, the better.

What I'm trying to say, though, isn't that simple controls or complex controls are better or worse than the other. I simply want to emphasize just how varied games can be on the basest of levels, and why it's important to consider how a game controls before anything else — because the ease with which you can pick up a game and start playing is often what makes or breaks an experience altogether.

This is why I, personally, can't stand playing Super Mario 64. To me, the controls of that game just don't aren't fun to interface with. The physics of the original Super Mario Bros. are already rough enough to get used to, but put that same hefty gravity and momentum into the third-dimension, and it goes from being something to get accustomed to to a wet blanket weighing down the overall experience. I don't like making jumps in Mario 64; I don't like the wall-jump and how finnicky it is; and I really don't like it when the game expects precision performance with such clunky movements.

Super Mario Sunshine, on the other hand, controls like a dream to me. It's as if the iron ingots in Mario's underwear were extracted, giving him the freedom to fly through the air with agility that 64 Mario could only dream of. Couple that with FLUDD and the number of different techniques like the spin jump, and Sunshine is about as "fluid" as a 3D platformer can get, to my estimation. When I boot up Sunshine, I can hop right in and get to having fun in the various jungle gyms the game has constructed for me; when I boot up 64, I feel an exhaustion overtake me before I even get off the main menu, knowing that I'll have to take some time to reacclimate myself with Mario's gelatinous jumps and acrobatics. And don't even get me started on the actual Metal Mario you can play as.

Like I said earlier, however, control is only a third of what makes up "game feel"; another element of it is the game's pacing.

Pacing, put simply, is the flow of events from one to another. Think of how long movie scenes last before there's a camera cut to a different shot. The amount of time it takes for each cut is part of the pacing; the general progression of the narrative is the other big part of pacing. Both of these factors apply to games as well.

Just as every game controls differently, every game is paced differently, as well. There are fast games — Super Meat Boy, Ultrakill, and of course the likes of Sonic. There are slow games, too — puzzle games like Portal, text-heavy games like Disco Elysium, and even platformers that require more deliberation from the player, like Castlevania. The overall speed of a game can be either appealing or unappealing depending on what you like, or even how you feel at any given moment. No game is inherently flawed from its general pacing alone.

That said, games can be paced poorly, regardless of the speed at which they play. Let's pick on Sonic, as I am wont to do. Most of his games are blistering from start to finish, but there are a few outliers that really shit the bed. One of the most infamous examples is Sonic Unleashed, where half the game is spent running around like a coke fiend at a hundred miles an hour... and the other half is a half-baked God of War ripoff beat-'em-up that moves at a fraction of a snail's pace. That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if the two gameplay styles were integrated more cohesively. Instead, most of the time, you get to play one super-fast level before being thrown headfirst into a series of brawler stages that each take upwards of twenty minutes to complete. That is poor pacing, and if it's poor enough, it can easily be a reason why someone would drop their controller and go off to do something like pay their taxes, because even that's more entertaining than another half an hour of Sonic x DMC stuck in a brick of molasses.

On the contrary, when a game is paced really well, it can be downright hypnotizing, and you can kiss many hours of your life goodbye before you even start playing. Ultrakill, for instance, is broken up into levels that can be cleared sometimes in under a minute. This makes it appealing to go through stages again and again, grinding your times down; and because the game is just so fucking fast, it never feels like you're stuck doing one thing for too long. An hour of playing Ultrakill barely feels like any time at all. Again, though, even games with lower speed can have intoxicating pacing. Disco Elysium gets sucked off every day between my friends and I, and I'm about to give it another round of sloppy dome for how well it's paced. While it's slow to go around, talking to people, wading through mountains of text, there's always something interesting for you to do in DE. You can help solve local mysteries, try and recover pieces of your missing identity, learn about the history of the slum you're stuck in, or even, if you truly must... try and deal with that pesky case that your partner keeps telling you is sooo important.

Good pacing makes it easy to slip into a "flow-state", a kind of zen where you and the game are like lovers, entwined in a waltz of fun and frolic that can only be broken by realizing that it's nine PM and you have work tomorrow and oh god I haven't eaten yet and-

Bad pacing is a dance where neither you nor your partner know the moves and so you kind of just bumble around until you end up falling on your face and wishing dearly that you were anywhere else, doing anything else.

Lastly, an often overlooked aspect of a game's feel is its "feedback". The exact definition of "feedback" as it pertains to video games can be a bit nebulous, but if I were to try and describe it the best I can, I would say that feedback is how a game responds to your actions.

Donkey Kong Country Returns is one of my all-time favorite games, and it masters game feel in many ways. One such way is how the game responds to what DK does in the world. When you jump on an enemy, for example, there's a loud, satisfying bop that plays both from the game and from your Wiimote, emphasizing just how well you gave that baddie a righteous smackdown. DKCR puts you in the shoes of your player character masterfully; every jump you make, every enemy you kill makes you feel like you're actually a five-hundred pound gorilla, mercilessly bulldozing your way to reclaim what's rightfully yours.

But when a game lacks feedback, it's just kind of... underwhelming. Imagine if you stomped on a Goomba in Mario and there wasn't a nice little ba-boop in response to the impact. Imagine if you didn't bounce up either, so you just kind of fell down on top of the Goomba, silently flattening it. That would be so fucking lame, right?

I wanted to try and keep my examples diverse here, but since he just has so much relevant material, I'll talk about Sonic again. Particularly Sonic 2006, that notorious stain on the franchise's record that I am honestly surprised it survived. 06 has enough problems to fill a book, but in relation to the topic at hand, one thing it did wrong was feedback. In most other Sonic titles, when you homing attack an enemy, there's a crunchy wham, accompanied by the enemy you just blasted going flying off or outright exploding. It's fast, it's satisfying, and it reinforces the power that you wield while playing as this character. In Sonic 06, when you attack an enemy, there's usually just a little metal... bonk. And that's about it. Most enemies in 06 have large health bars, so don't count on them going flying after only a single hit. Instead, you have to repeatedly hammer them like a bent nail, and when they finally go down, they do so literally, ragdolling as if you were playing Garry's Mod and not a Sonic game. Instead of making you feel strong and giving your actions tangible weight, it makes you feel weak — flaccid, even. You aren't a blue cannonball of death; you're a wet stick slapping around your enemies until they lie down in sheer pity. In any other game, this would be a glaring flaw, but as far as 06 goes, it's just another problem for the pile.

Sonic 06 actually encapsulates all three of the things I've talked about today: it controls like ass; the pacing of its gameplay and story are agonizing, especially if you're a fan of Sonic's usual speed; and it barely reacts to the things you do, making it seem more like you're clacking action figures together rather than controlling a real character in a real, physical world. It is pretty miserable.

As for games with great game feel, I can think of a few examples... DOOM: Eternal, mentioned briefly before, is a pretty stellar one. It controls well (despite the amount of inputs you need to keep track of at all times), it's paced so that any stage never overstays its welcome, and the way demons blow apart into meaty chunks when hit by a Super Shotgun blast says more about its feedback than I ever could. Other games with tremendous game feel (excluding those already discussed) include Pizza Tower, Darkest Dungeon (1 and 2), the Like a Dragon series, both Hotline Miamis, and Sonic Mania (had to throw the blue fuck a bone at least once).

Thus concludes today's discussion. If you got this far, thank you for reading. I want to make running this blog a consistent thing, but for that, I will need support. Feel free to suggest topics for me to talk about using the blog's submission feature, as well as to post your thoughts down below.

If you enjoy this content, please consider supporting me fiscally via Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/jcjimmy. One-time donations are appreciated; subscriptions are very appreciated, and will all but guarantee that this blog continues for the future. I may also consider opening a Patreon if enough support is gathered, but that's just a pipe dream at the moment.

That's all I have to say for now. Take care.

#gaming #video games #writing #writers on tumblr #game writing #jcjimmy #jimmy-o games #super mario #ultrakill #doom #sonic the hedgehog #disco elysium #pizza tower #hotline miami #like a dragon #blog #game blogging #writing blog

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years ago

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Being Tsubakihara’s Manager

Tsubakihara x GN! Manager

Warnings: pure fluff

AN: sorry it’s been a while since I posted BUT 👀 I still have a dream to write at least 1 set of HC’s per team because I know each one of these bbys has a fan somewhere. It’s me, I am the fan.

You can’t tell me these aren’t some seriously blushie boys

They will simply perish the moment they find out they have a manager

Literally, they could have no clue who you are but once they find out, watch out

Instant protection squad!

They have like six second years so never fear Yn, you are secure

Coach Osado is actually the one who recruited you

He knew you were a good student and capable of managing a team

When he asked if you still needed a club and you responded “yes”, the deal was sealed 🤝🏻

The first person he’s gonna inform is our amazing third year setter, Echigo

That poor boy is exhausted

Literally carrying the teams moral on his back 😅

Needless to say, he’s stoked about having a manager!

However, Coach Osado and Echigo decide not to inform the rest of the team of you

Because there’s nothing better than a good surprise right?

Right : D

So on your first day, you walk into the gym and the boys are already warming up

They stop and look towards you 👀

Freaking so noisy istg-

They watch as your beauty lights up the space, and they all just stare at you

Literally 👁️👄👁️

Someone better make sure to get a mop because there is drool everywhere!

You smile at them and wave, walking over to Coach as Echigo stands and walks towards you both

Teradomari is super confused 🤨 and looks to his friend for answers

Too bad his friend is Maruyama, who is probably definitely simp #1 on Team YN

“Dude don’t stare at them! We don’t even know who they are!” Tera gritted out as Maru snapped from his thoughts

Literally just these goons all ogling you

Hope you don’t have social anxiety Yn 😅

All the second years, Tsukioka, Mikawa, Iwamuro, Atema, Maiko and Kaikake are silently thanking whomever sent you walking into the volleyball gym

Our precious Angel, Himekawa is just staring at you, face blush red as he watches you laugh at something Echigo says

Suddenly Echigo and you approach the team, a huge smile plastered on your face

“Guys this is Yn, our new manager,” he spoke as suddenly the gym went dead silent

Before ultimately erupting into chaos

“Our manager- as in our teams manager?!?” Maru shouts, standing up before running at you and Echigo for a group hug

“As in the collective groups manager?” Tera added

“Like YN’s gonna be at all the practices manager?” Maiko interjects

Echigo 👉🏻😐🙄 yes

“Wait wait- like YN’s gonna travel on a bus with us to tournaments and stuff?” Tsukioka promoted

You this whole time 👉🏻😅

Coach Osado 👉🏻 rethinking this entire decision

“YES- yes YN is our manager!” Echigo finally said, moving his hands in a circle to indicated that he was including everyone

“I’m really happy to be joining you! Thank you for this opportunity!” You smile as the boys instantly die on the spot from how adorable you are

“I think I’m gonna faint!” Maru shouted as you quickly ran over to him

“Do you need water or something?” You said, concerned as his eyes widened and locked with yours

Thankfully Tera became conscious during this process and quickly intervened

“Umm I think he’s ok Yn, here I’ll show you around,” he said, grabbing your arm as you waved to the boys and began about your first day as the teams manager

Now I wish I could say they chilled out, but they in fact, did not 😬

Sure they didn’t almost pass out every time they see you but man did they adore you

They all clamored to help you in anyway they can

There is no way coach has any issues getting these boys to practice

“YN come help me with spikes!” Mary shouts

You 👉🏻 ok 🥰

“No YN I need you to help me with my cross court shots!” Teru interrupts

You 👉🏻 sure 😃

“YN is going to be too busy helping me with serving!” Tsukioka interjects

You 👉🏻 okey dokey 😅

“I need the most help Yn!” Kaikake whines

You 👉🏻 on it 🫠

Good thing Echigo is there to straighten everything out

“Whoa whoa ok that’s enough fighting over Yn! You guys should learn how to practice on your own!”

You 👉🏻*instant relief* 😌

“Besides Yn is going to be too busy helping me with setting to help any of you,” Echigo adds 🙃

“YOU ALWAYS HOG YN!” Maru shouts as Tera and the entire team join in

You 👉🏻 🧍😀

Despite all their fighting, they do agree on one thing

And that’s protect Yn at all costs!

Seriously you probably have better security detail than most politicians YN

Especially at tournaments

Because these boys aren’t only nervous about the game

But now they have to worry about protecting their innocent Yn from boys 😱

At the qualifiers for nationals, these boys are already on edge

You’ve tried to calm them down by giving them words of encouragement by man are they tense

Coach suggests that maybe it would be beneficial for them to eat something to calm their nerves which you agree

But oops- it looks like you forgot the bentos on the bus

Darn it 😏

Oh well, nothing a short brisk walk won’t fix

Only they boys don’t know you have left them because they are too nervous to even function

And while you are on your adventure, there’s a few players who have been paying extra attention to you

High school hormones 🙄

So when they finally see that you’ve escape the guard and are now alone, they decide to pounce

“Hey there! I didn’t know Tsubakihara had such a pretty manager!” On of the boys said

You just blush and continue to walk, knowing you need to feed your boys

“Man I wish we had a cutie like you on our team,” another one of them says as to you

You continue to ignore them because you have a goal!

Back in the gym, it’s Himekawa who first notices your absence

He’s so nervous that his nervous are almost working for him and making him way more vigilant

He looks around confused before Atema finally says something

“What’s up dude?”

“Umm where did Yn go?” Himekawa asks as suddenly everyone looks up

It’s like the nerves just melt away as they all suddenly start to panic

“Omg YN’s lost! We lost our manager!” Maru shouts

“YN was just here a few minutes ago calm down!” Echigo says as coach interrupts

“I sent YN to get some bentos to calm you boys down,” he says as the boys eyes widen

“Like alone?!?” Teru questions

“There’s so many boys here! We have to find YN!” Iwamuro yells as the boys take off in search of you

By this time, you’ve made it to the bus and the now super annoying boys are still following you 🙄

Like please take a hint we have a job to do ok!

Just as you are about to say something, the doors slam open and your entire team comes running out

Literally it’s like that scene where Ukai runs to save Takeda from Inarizaki’s coach

👇🏻

“LEAVE OUR YN ALONE!” Maru shouts as the boys and you just stare

The boys 👉🏻😐

You 👉🏻🙄

They block you from the other boys as they puff out their chests and assert their dominance

“YN are these hooligans causing you issues?” Tera asks as you stare at him

“I’m fine,” you say

“Why are you bothering OUR manager?” Maiko questions

You 👉🏻 really I’m ok 😅

“We were just making sure nobody hurt them. They were walking all by themselves,” one of the annoying boys said

Oof- that really hit a nerve

“We knew right where Yn was the entire time!” Maru shouted

The team 👉🏻 🤨 we did?

“Yeah we trust Yn to do things on their own!” Atema added

The team 👉🏻 we do?

“So why did you come running-” you started before being interrupted

“Well would you look at the time! Sorry we have to go warm up now!” Tera shouted, pushing you away as the other boys grabbed the lunch boxes and you headed back inside

Once inside the boys deflated, feeling relieved that they had found you safe

“You know, those guys are who we play first,” you smirked 😏

The team 👉🏻🔥👄🔥

Oh it’s on now!

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wheelin-after-midnight · 26 days ago

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28.

1) If you had to make a six hour cross-country journey, would you rather take the train, fly or drive? How come?

You cannot travel across my country in 6 hours in any way. - this.

2) How long do your earphones tend to last before the connection goes and you have to replace them?

I use headphones, not earphones, but connection going hasn't been a reason I've needed to replace them. I'm on my third pair of the same type. First ones fell in the toilet, second accidentally fell in a bucket of water. Other than accidental things like that happening, nothing goes wrong with them. They'll cut out if I'm a certain distance away from the device I'm using, but it's a decent range before that happens.

3) If you could dye your hair any colour in the world, assuming it would look perfect with your colouring, what would you pick and why?

The next time I need to do it it's either gonna be Ariel from the little Mermaid shade of red or some shade of pink.

4) Are you a fan of musicals? If you are, what ones have you seen live and which ones would you like to see?

I fucking love musicals! I used to be so passionate about musical/live theatre and I miss it so much. If I had opportunities to get back into acting I'd take them in two seconds. I've seen lots of musicals. Not big productions on Broadway, but I really want to! I love Rent, Wicked, Mamma Mia, Annie. I ended up getting a copy of the Tina Turner musical from someone on Reddit after I couldn't get tickets. (Yes I know. Bootlegging is bad. I hate it and would rather not. Creators should be paid what they're worth, but I tried to get tickets for multiple different dates and they had no accessible seats.) The quality was actually really decent and it's an awesome production. If they come back around, I will definitely try to get tickets again and go and actually experience it. The standing ovation at the end was a good six minutes. It was warranted.

5) If money was no object, and you could go on a two-week vacation with one other person, who would you take, where would you go and what would you get upto?

Babe. She would probably want to go to Italy. I want to travel basically anywhere and everywhere, but my first stop would be South Africa. What we get up to would depend on which of those places we went first, but I'm down for all kinds of things. Literally anything as long as it's accessible to me or we can make it that way. Also just a lot of time together wherever we're staying. Sleeping in, lazing around, eating good food. Lots of sex.

6) Are you someone who needs to have time alone?

Oh, Christ, yes. I do have too much of it now, but I don't do well with the other extreme of constantly being surrounded by others either.

7) What’s your opinion on couples who do literally everything together? Are you like that, or is that like one of your worst nightmares?

I don't have opinions on relationships I'm not a part of, people can do what they want and what works for them. Gf and I are long distance and not together all the time. Our relationship is also open and she has one other partner, so we are not like this. I don't think we would be even if we closed things again in the future and lived nearer to each other. I would go do things with my friends or see certain people in my family and there would most likely be times she didn't feel like joining me. Not a big deal. I would obviously invite her often, but I think it's very healthy to have your own things going on independent of each other and miss each other a little bit.

8) Have you ever had to give up something you were addicted to? Did you actually succeed?

I wasn't necessarily addicted, I wasn't getting falling down drunk or drinking copious amounts, but I drank every day for a year after my Nan died as a way to cope. Daily alcohol consumption was never my normal. I didn't completely quit drinking, I just quit using it as a daily coping mechanism.

9) Does your favourite food vary depending on your mood or on the time of year or anything?

I have two favourite foods that never change - (homemade) mac and cheese and pizza, and then a bunch of favourites that I do cycle through often.

10) Do you know anyone whose views/opinions are the complete opposite of yours? Do you find it hard to get on with them as a result, or can you generally ignore it and find something else to talk about?

My entire family, basically. I find it hard to get along with some of them, not necessarily just because their opinions are opposite to mine. Yes, I can tune it out and put on a good face. You learn to when you don't have much support and your physical situation doesn't really give you the choice to do anything other than that. I can find some kind of common ground with just about anyone, even if it's small, superficial things.

11) Have you ever had to work (or study) with someone that you really didn’t get along with? How did you deal with it (ignoring them, being nice, etc.)?

Yes. I treated them the way I would want to be treated and otherwise ignored them and got on with what I needed to do.

12) Have you ever had any problems with your wisdom teeth, or have they been taken out already?

I've not had them taken out.

13) Which one of your senses would you miss the most if you lost it?

Sight.

14) Do you ever listen to CDs anymore?

I still have my collection, but nothing to play it on.

15) What’s your favourite type of fast food? Is it something you eat a lot or do you try and limit it?

Pizza or Mexican. I don't eat any fast food often because I can't go out on my own, I can't afford it all the time and there's very few good options that deliver in my tiny ass area.

16) Do you find your mood changes when you’re hungry or tired? Does eating or sleeping automatically cure your of a bad mood?

Bro, when Nippy was a baby, there was a period where I was hardly sleeping and omg, it was something else. I cried all the time and was overthinking the craziest shit. Gf was genuinely worried at times, I think. She would listen to me cry and read my bubbles of text and just gently be like 'yeah, okay. It's okay. It'll be fine. You really just need to get some sleep.' Once that actually happened I realized how much better I felt.

17) When you see cute animals, do you just wanna pick them up and cuddle them or fuss them?

ALWAYS! 😍😍

18) What’s the stupidest fight you’ve ever gotten into? Did you make up with that person or did you end up losing them over it?

Babe and I have had some pretty bad times. We worked through them. We're doing amazing.

19) Do you find yourself using people as footrests and pillows if you’re sat next to them?

No.

20) Have you ever gotten really bad travel sickness? Has this put you off travelling or going by certain modes of transport in case it happens again?

I did when I was a kid. I always used to get carsick.

21) What’s your opinion on prostitution? Should it be legal and regulated, or is it something that needs to be gotten rid of completely?

I'm not getting into my opinions on this right now.

22) If it was a case of prostitution or being evicted from your home, which option would you pick (assuming you’d tried everything else to make money first)?

23) What would go into your ideal sandwich? Do you eat that often or is a treat for you?

I eat sandwiches often. Usually toasted fried egg ones with cheese, ham and cheese, turkey and cheese, German salami and cheese.

24) In general do you prefer modern art or more traditional art? Or do you really not care?

I prefer all kinds of art.

25) If you want (or don’t want) kids, is this something you’ve always known or have you changed your mind as you’ve grown up?

I always knew I wanted kids. I can't have them, though. :(

26) Do you believe “once a criminal, always a criminal” or do you think that people can really change and become better?

I don't believe once a criminal always a criminal, but I also don't believe all people can or will change and become better.

27) Have you ever read a quote or a poem and really connected with it?

Many times.

28) What’s something that really puts you off a person (bad hygiene, whatever)? Are you willing to look past that in order to get to know them properly?

If they're a close minded asshole, if they shit on other people's happiness or passion, self centeredness, pathological lying, general lack of empathy.

29) Are you into piercings and tattoos? If not, do you judge people who are, and vice versa?

I love tattoos and have two. Want at least two more. No longer have piercings, but nothing against them at all. I don't think it's anyone's place to judge what another person does with their own body. You can be against something all you want for your own. Don't project that onto others.

30) What’s your opinion on places like Seaworld? Do you think keeping whales and dolphins in such small enclosures is cruel or a necessary evil?

There's no necessary evil about it. It's straight up evil. There's literal footage out there of those poor creatures banging their heads and bodies against the enclosures repeatedly because they're upset and depressed being confined like that. It's disgusting. Fuck those places.

#personal #surveys #text #questions #survey

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pocket-luv101 · 1 year ago

Text

Trust

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Cyno is worried about Tighnari’s reaction to his transformation.

“I’ve seen you spend a fortune on TCG cards but you won’t buy a new blanket for yourself. This is the third hole that I’m patching for you. Since I bought this blanket for you two years ago, I know it doesn’t have childhood memories for you to hold onto it this long.” Tighnari’s complaint echoed throughout the library. They were alone in the House of Daena after the library was closed. Cyno had the key to the building since he was the General Mahamatra and he would often use it as a private haven for them.

“I can’t throw away a gift from my love.” His tender voice made Tighnari’s heart skip. If anyone was watching them, they would be in disbelief at General Mahamatra’s behaviour. A selfish part of Tighnari liked that he was the first person who could see this side of him. He sat on a ladder rung with a blanket draped over his lap. In front of him, Cyno leaned against the ladder and rested his head on the blanket. The library was dimly lit but Tighnari could see the soft affection in his red eyes.

“The reason I gave this to you is because I was worried about you getting cold in the desert. This can’t possibly keep you warm anymore. I’ll buy you another one. Since I’m in the city for a few more days, we can go shopping in the bazar. Let’s buy something for Collei too.” Tighnari suggested the compromise. They rearranged their plans for the weekend. Even a small walk through the plaza was fun if he could spend time with Cyno.

Districted by Cyno, Tighnari accidentally pricked his finger with the needle. He winced and instinctively took his hand back. Cyno caught his hand and gently pulled it to his lips. He licked the small bead of blood from his finger and then kissed the spot. He looked up at Tighnari and grinned when he saw the small blush on his cheeks. “I’m disinfecting your wound, General Watchleader. Last time, you lectured me that even a small cut could get infected.”

“You should know that licking a cut to disinfect it isn’t accurate. You’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me.” Tighnari’s rebuttal didn’t have the same sharp bite as when he’ll correct travellers.

“If I just wanted an excuse to kiss you, I wouldn’t settle for your finger.” Cyno let go of his hand and then cupped the back of his neck. He pulled him closer but he didn’t need to when Tighnari was already drawn to him. He leaned down and his eyes drifted close.

Their lips barely touched before they heard stomps echo from across the room. “The House of Daena is closed. Anyone who is here is trespassing and I will report you. I can hear you so don’t try to run or hide. It’ll be pointless because my son is the General Mahamatra!”

“Of all the people to find us?” Cyno groaned to himself. From the person’s voice and their last statement, he immediately knew who they were. Sage Cyrus was infamous within the Akademiya for his gruff demeanor and quick temper. Cyno wasn’t intimidated by the sage because he grew up with him for a father. He was grateful for Cyrus’s guidance but he didn’t want this to be how he introduced Tighnari to his father. He considered running away with Tighnari before his father could find them.

That choice quickly became impossible when Cyrus rounded the corner and saw them together. His father’s yell became stunned silence. Tighnari looked from Cyno to Cyrus and he could sense how tense they both were. He sighed and slid down the ladder to stand between them. “Let’s not act like awkward teenagers being caught kissing behind Pardis Dhyai. We’re adults and nothing Cyno and I were doing is that scandalous, Sage Cyrus.”

“You must be Tighnari.” Others wouldn’t dare to scold a sage and the sages were rather prideful. However, Cyrus wasn’t offended and he patted Tighnari’s shoulders instead. “You’re just how Cyno and Lisa described you. He never stops talking about you. From everything I’ve heard, you’re a good kid and it must’ve been my son who talked you into breaking the House of Daena’s curfew. I will give him a stern lecture later. My son is never too old to be grounded.”

“There’s no need for that, Sage Cyrus. I asked him to let me into the library so I could do extra research. The General Mahamatra would never break a rule. He’ll bend them at best.” Tighnari quickly came to his defense. He didn’t add that he made the excuse to spend more time with Cyno. He was a little curious to what Cyno had told his father about him. “It’s great to finally meet you Sage Cyrus.”

“I’ve been asking Cyno to invite you to dinner so I can meet you but he always says you’re busy.” His words surprised Tighnari but he hid his reaction. Cyno had never mentioned that his father wanted to meet him. He had assumed that Cyrus, as a sage, would be too busy to have dinner with them. Cyrus continued: “I might be single but I can give you some sage advice. Do you get it? I’m a sage.”

“My father’s puns are terrible.” Cyno groaned. “He makes a pun at every opportunity he can because he wants to show how witty he is. But he lacks timing. The best time to tell a pun is to lighten the moment and have the joke match the current situation. For example: Today, I borrowed ten books from the House of Daena. The librarian told me to not overdue it.”

“You both have a unique sense of humour.” Tighnari smiled wearily. He thought both of their puns were equally forced. They had known each other for years and he was glad that they could still learn new things about each other. “It’s hard to travel from Avidya Forest to the Akademiya but it’ll be nice to have dinner with you. I can invite my parents and Collei as well.”

“The little girl who Cyno adopted? You must invite her as well. I hear that she might join the Amurta Darshan but she should choose the Spantamad Darshan. No offense to you, Tighnari. It’s just a family tradition to join my Darshan.”

“It’ll be Collei’s decision in the end and I’m sure she’ll go with the one that suits her best. If she wants to become a doctor, that’ll be the Amurta Darshan.” Tighnari corrected him with pride in his voice. Cyno asked him to be a teacher for Collei but he began to see her as his own daughter. He would support any decision she made but a part of him was happy she would follow a path similar to his.

“Cyno told me the same thing. This old sage has been lonely ever since I’ve retired and the General Mahamatra is too busy to visit. If Collei became my pupil, I can teach her like I did with Cyno. He was a sweet boy. I have so many stories to tell you and Collei about his childhood. She’ll find it uplifting. She has a god inside her. It’s similar to Cyno and Hermanubis.”

Tighnari had to admit that he was also curious to hear about the deity. Cyno had told him about Hermanubis but Tighnari had never seen him summon the spirit. Whenever they had to fight mercenaries or eremites, Cyno was strong enough to defeat them on his own.

“It’s late and I should walk Tighnari back to Gandharva Ville. Bandits travel during the night.” Cyno took Tighnari’s hand and pulled him down the aisle of bookcases. While his voice was calm and even, Tighnari noticed the panic in his rushed footsteps. He left so quickly that they were barely able to wave goodbye to his father.

“I’m sorry about how forceful my father can be. I hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable.” Cyno apologized as they made their way through the rainforest. They held hands and he would occasionally skim his thumb over Tighnari long fingers. He loved how strong yet delicate they were. He purposed kept his pace slow to spend a few more minutes with him. Tighnari was in no rush to return home either and leaned against his arm as they walked.

“Your father is different from the other sages in a refreshing way. Meeting your dad won’t scare me away if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Tighnari reassured him. He lifted their entwined fingers to his lips and said, “There’s one thing on my mind though. Why did you leave so suddenly? We weren’t able to set a day for our families to have dinner together.”

“I can arrange for Cyrus to visit you when you’re next free. It’ll be simpler if he took the trip to Gandharva Ville rather than find a time you and Collei can come to the city.” He suggested. Since he was willing to have dinner with him, he wasn’t against them spending time together. Tighnari couldn’t think of another reason he would leave the library so abruptly.

His thoughts were quickly pulled away from their conversation when he heard footsteps behind them. Cyno sensed the bandits behind them shortly after Tighnari did. He summoned his spear and turned to face the men. In the same step, he moved in front of Tighnari to protect him. He didn’t know whether they were regular bandits or they were targeting him as the General Mahamatra. Nevertheless, he would protect Tighnari.

“We heard that the General Mahamatra has a lover in the forest. We hoped to ambush him while he’s on his way to visit him. This is better. How well can you fight while protecting him?” The Eremite asked and pointed his sword at Tighnari. Cyno’s eyes narrowed and gripped his spear tighter. He knew he needed to control his emotions and protectiveness but Tighnari was his only weakness.

“Cyno, watch out!” Tighnari shoved him to the ground as he heard the distinct whistle of an arrow cutting through the air. He didn’t see an archer among the Eremites so there could be more enemies nearby. He intended to stand and take down the archer. Cyno moved on top of him and whispered into his ear. From his words, it was clear he came to the same conclusion.

“We don’t know how many there are. Stay here where I can protect you. You might get caught in the aftershock if you move.” Cyno warned. Tighnari wanted to argue that he would be the best person to fight the archer since he would be able to predict their movements better.

Then, he noticed ropes of long cloth wrapped around Cyno’s arms. Tighnari had never seen him transform or don Hermanubis’s power but he immediately recognized its power. Cyno raised his arm and slammed it on the dirt. Claws made of electro burst from the ground and knocked the Eremites back. “Please, don’t move from here, Tighnari.”

The dust and sparks of electro energy settled in front of Tighnari and he could finally see the aftermath of the fight. Cyno stood over the unconscious men. He thought he would feel relieved once the fight ended but he instinctively knew that something was wrong. Cyno hadn’t turned to face him and the aura of Hermanubis lingered around him.

“Are you hurt anywhere, Cyno?” Tighnari stepped over the bodies and stood in front of him. He didn’t answer him so he searched his body for any wounds. He wasn’t injured but his body was as stiff as a statue. When he tried to touch his shoulder and urge him to move, lightning struck him. The wisp of lightning didn’t hurt but it was enough to push him away.

A voice he didn’t recognize left Cyno’s lips. “He doesn’t want to face you. He has told me not to move towards you either. Return to your rainforest for now, Valuka Shuna. I will take Cyno back to his father once you’re safely down the road.”

“Hermanubis?” In response, Cyno nodded. Hermanubis further emphasizes his silent answer by releasing more of his power. The overwhelming aura of an ancient god man Tighnari stiffen. He and Cyno expected for a mortal like Tighnari to follow the god’s order.

Tighnari’s brows furrowed together and different emotions passed through the unique eyes. He took a shaky breath and then he stepped closer to him. He tried to peer under his helmet to look into his eyes and find Cyno. “I’m not going unless Cyno tells me himself. You control his body to fight but that’s over now. Return Cyno to me.”

“You may be a Valuka Shuna but you’re still mortal. I’ve never known a human to be so defiant in front of a god. Are you truly not afraid of me?” He leaned down to emphasize his question and watch for hesitation in his expression. “Cyno believes you will be afraid of me and you’ll reject him. He is my vessel and he can’t change that part of himself.”

To answer him, Tighnari gently slipped his helmet from his head. He had hoped to look into his eyes but he wore a violet blindfold. The veil of thunder surrounding him faded and he was able to freely run his fingers through his silver hair. “I don’t know if Cyno can hear me right now. Tell him that we’ve been together for years and I already know about the god inside him. Seeing you won’t scare me. The only thing that will frighten me is if he’ll retreat behind you instead of facing me.”

“Tighnari,” Cyno’s voice was barely a whisper. Hearing it again, Tighnari let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “When I was a child, my father said that I was a gifted child. The other scholars treated me as a tool. I never know how someone’s opinion of me will change once they see me transform. I should’ve trusted that you won’t be like them. You’re nothing like other scholars. I love you.”

“I’m glad you realize that but I’m still a little upset with you.” Tighnari pouted. He took his arm and pulled him towards Gandharva Ville. “I’m going to give you a long lecture while wrapping your wounds.”

#genshin impact #cynonari #cyno and tighnari #genshin impact cyno #genshin impact tighnari #fanfiction

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