#self indulgent writing hours GO

[feytouched]

The camp lay in silence, punctuated only by Karlach's snoring—and certainly, to Astarion's keen hearing, by the drumbeat of Lyra's heart. They stood hand in hand for a long moment, and in that stillness she understood it clearly: she would rather die than let Astarion come to harm again. She could never tell him as much, of course, but the realisation felt as evident as the sunrise; surely he must know it too, see it spelled plain on her face. If he did, though, he said nothing more, but he kept her hand clasped in his. Under her touch, his fingers were almost warm.

my bg3 oc lyra & astarion's act 2 heart-to-heart.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

heart to heart

cw. selfship-coded, childhood friend au, pre-canon, pre-relationship, slight angst, fluff, one piece spoilers

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

notes. apparently it isn't enough for me to brainrot in private about a character i've been obsessed with for a decade, you guys have to be subjected to it as well. whoops🤪

It is not hyperbole to say that early mornings are the only time of day when the Dadan Family base is peaceful.

The sun has barely risen, the morning birds have barely begun their song and most everyone is still snoring away in their cots. Early mornings and late evenings have become Dadan’s favorite time of day, citing them as the only times she is ever allowed a moment of peace.

That peace is stalled whenever Garp visits.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with us,” you ask Ace a final time before you leave for your hometown.

Ace shakes his head with a small smile, “they’re more your friends than mine.” A true sentiment, in your six years of knowing each other, there is still a distinction between your friends in Windmill Village and your friends living among bandits on Mt. Corvo. “Tell ‘em I said ‘congrats’ though. We might end up seeing them later down the road.”

“As marines!” Garp calls over his shoulder gruffly, not waiting for you to catch up. He has one more year to change his grandson’s mind about becoming a marine before the two of you left Dawn Island for saltier pastures. If he knew that fact, however, you’re sure the marine would grab you both by the back of your shirts and drag you to the port in Windmill Village this second. “You should take after those boys!”

The boys in question are Demarius and Stacey.

They’ve adored Garp since before you knew Ace was his grandchild, constantly pleading for him to take them to a naval base. He promised to do so once they turned 16. The least you could do was bid your friends farewell before they lived out their naval dreams.

Ace rolls his eyes, “Pirate!”

“It’s too early in the morning for you two to start that old fight again,” Dadan grumbles, turning around to head back inside. This was enough kissing Garp's butt for her, tucking away her handkerchief. “I get nothing but headaches when Garp comes around.”

You snicker at the grouchy woman’s exit, looking over her shoulder. The door to the room you share is shut close but you can easily picture Luffy stretched out and snoring, limbs all over the place wildly. He’ll be adding to Dadan’s headache soon enough. “Alright, well, I’ll be back later,” you tell Ace unnecessarily.

“You should spend the night in town,” Ace’s disgruntled expression shifts into something warm. You remember a time when he seldom smiled and could only offer you scowls. It’s hard to believe how much he smiles now, your lips quirking instinctively at the sight. “You haven’t been in town for a while. Everyone probably misses you.”

You lean forward, wiggling your eyebrows, “aww, trying to get rid of me now? You’re just trying to get more of a cut at dinner.”

“Maybe,” Ace’s grin widens and you share a laugh before Garp calls after you, further away than he was last.

Damn for an old man he moves fast. “See you,” you nudge your freckled friend before turning on your feet, nearly tripping as you stumble after his grandfather. “I’m okay,” you call over your shoulder.

Garp is grumbling to himself as you approach him. You don’t need to hear his words clearly to know he is thinking about his pirate obsessed grandsons. “Those dolts,” he mutters. “You used to play marines all the time with those kids in town. Now they’ve got you talking about being a pirate. You’ll all be marines, mark my words!”

“I really only ever wanted to just sail on the seas,” you tell Garp truthfully. Even as a child when Demarius demanded you play marines because he always wanted to play marines, you never played because you aspired to be one. It didn’t have to be the marines, it didn’t have to be pirates, you just wanted to set sail on the ocean blue. Pirate merely became the subsequent medium you vowed to pursue. “The marines kinda seem,” you mull over your next words carefully. “Strict. I just wanna see the world, not be told what to do.”

“Discipline is a good thing,” is his rebuttal. He certainly was very strict in the training you unwittingly got pulled into once he discovered your true intentions.

Silence falls between you both but it isn’t comfortable, not like the silences you’re used to.

Silence in Dadan’s home is accompanied by snores or the movement of someone heading to the bath. Luffy mumbling in his sleep about the many adventures he and his dream crew are on causing you and Ace to share a look and chuckle quietly under your breaths.

It’s when you tell yourself ‘Today’s the day I actually do it’ and you count away in your head the number of Ace’s freckles until you inevitably mess up the count and have to start all over again.

It’s when it’s raining and you, Ace and Luffy sleep in an empty hollow of a tree, the croak of the frogs singing to the drops.

Silence with Garp is suffocating and the jungle is too quiet and your brain too full of anxiety-ridden hypotheticals to even think about your childhood friends you’d be bidding farewell to. Instead, the ones you wouldn’t be saying goodbye to were at the forefront of your mind.

Another minute of silence follows before you’re unable to stop the words from falling from your lips, “Mr. Garp?”

Garp hums gruffly, bark worse than his bite, “what is it?”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically speaking of course, Ace and Luffy do become pirates,” you begin nervously, wincing at how the older man’s eyes sharpened at the word. “Hypothetically!” You’ve been a recipient of many of the marine’s Fists of Love, despite not belonging to his family, you don’t fancy receiving another. “They hypothetically become pirates and end up getting taken in,” you lick your lips as you try to imagine the scenario.

To your discomfort, it is terrifyingly easy to imagine Ace and Luffy in shackles.

The spectacle the World Government would make of it all. The grand executions of the sons of Gol D. Roger and Monkey D. Dragon.

The vitriol of the onlookers spewing words of hatred and damnation. No one would know who they are, not the onlookers in the crowds or the marines holding the weapons that would end their lives. Devils, they would be called. 

There would be one marine who knew them, however. Who truly knew them and not what they represented. It only breaks your heart that in your many years of knowing the older man that you don’t know what end of the spectrum he falls on. No, that’s an incorrect assessment. What breaks your heart is that it has always been too easy suspecting precisely where Monkey D. Garp would fall.

In spite of your suspicions, you still part your lips and ask, “would you help them?” Uncharacteristically, you fiddle with your fingers, the index finger of your right hand being nestled by the thumb and index finger of your left. Clad in a tacky red button up with white roosters, the stocky man’s back seems broader than usual.

It’s the long pause between your question and his answer that sinks in your chest like a knife. “They,” Garp begins but you cut the man off with a laugh.

“Don’t be so serious,” you laugh so convincingly you almost believe you’re unbothered. “I was just messing around. I’m up in the air on the pirate thing but for all we know, Luffy’ll start talking about being the Marine King the next time you see him.”

The elderly marine laughs at the absurdity of your thought, “a king among marines, that’ll be the day.”

ー

“Your shadows not with you for once?” Stacey jokes lightheartedly as he leans his head over in mock surprise at the lack of people accompanying you.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Garp would drag them onto that boat if they did,” anything to make those two follow in their grandfather’s footsteps. “Ace sends his congratulations anyways.”

“I’m still convinced that guy was replaced by aliens,” Demarius murmurs, squinting at the mountain’s peaks with narrowed eyes. You snort at the absurdity. You, along with your village-bound friends, had met Ace when he was more angry at the world and nearly all of the people inhabiting it. To say they’d been shocked when, the next time they met him, Ace was polite and all smiles is an understatement. Demarius’ suspicious glance lasts a beat longer before he turns his dark eyes to you, shoulders set back. “You can still come with us, you know.”

You remember being 10, running down these dirt roads playing marines with your friends as a rowdy quintet.

The battles you pretended to have against whatever made-up opponents Demarius decided you’d be fighting against. He’d always been the leader of the five of you ー him, Stacy, Pierre, Lisa Lisa and you ー would find yourselves on the tempestuous seas of the Grand Line, all odds against you.

“This is not a good day for battle but it is a glorious day to die,” you remember resolutely saying, words too heavy for someone who hadn’t been in a real fight her entire life until that point.

Real fights came after you met Ace and Sabo. When you began running amok in the capital and Gray Terminal. Real battle came when their angering the Bluejam pirates caught up with them. You couldn’t say you felt glorious fighting the Bluejam pirates in the flames of their hideout. Nor could you say Sabo’s horrifying end was glorious either. There is no glory in fighting but you will do what you have to to protect who you have left.

Pulling yourself from the memories, you shake your head, “you’ll see me at sea next year,” you vow with a grin. You lower your voice so the cantankerous marine behind you cannot hear what you say next. “It’ll just be in a way that pisses off the old man.”

There’s simply one more year to go.

You, alongside the other locals, wave the boys down until they become nothing but a speck on the horizon. Well, off their asses go. You sit on the porch step of what used to be the house that belonged to you and your grandfather. I think the last time I came here it was like, you purse your lips thoughtfully. Shiiieet, 3 months ago? You seldom spend time in the empty shack now. It is only good for your occasional visits and when you’re too lazy to head back up to Dadan’s. That is where home is now.

It’s wherever Ace and Luffy are.

Ace and Luffy who you know Garp loves but will always choose work first. He always has and he always will, so you will always choose them instead.

[strangersatellites]

strangers 1.3k words

inspired by ethel cain's song "strangers" and if you read this it is a requirement that you listen to it. (its linked at the bottom)

idk team I was just listening to this song for the millionth time and needed to get this out, so here's 1.3k words of Eddie experiencing life after death and Steve dealing with grief and guilt I guess

Eddie is a ghost. 

He’s made his peace with that.

Some kind of Upside-Down ghost probably. He doesn’t really care.

The people of Hawkins don’t know that. They still believe, still fear that he’s out there somewhere. Everyone that cared about him knows better.

WIthout a proper grave he just kind of… drifts. 

Into and out of spaces, he leaves behind no trace save for a soft breeze if someone’s really paying attention.

They usually aren’t.

He’s not really a physical being so much as a feeling. Still in his body but less aware of it than he ever was. He thinks he couldn’t explain it if he wanted to. Couldn’t explain the way that people can’t see him or hear him when he’s there, but later feel like they had, and feel crazy trying to explain it. He’s had to learn his way around his new consciousness in a way that lets him be near the ones he cares about without hurting them. It's an exhausting cycle, to feel out of your mind.

He can see it in the way dread and grief tug at the shoulders of the people he loved. He knows this because the more someone thinks of him, the closer he can get to them. 

At first he was at home a lot. 

Well, as at home as he could be in this new place they’ve got Wayne in. It’s nowhere Eddie’d ever been when he was living, but Wayne’s there so it's home nonetheless. But as weeks turn into months the closest he can get is just outside the door. He can’t get inside, can’t actually see Wayne anymore. Can’t see the way that loneliness weighs him down. The way he picks himself up every time.

So he lets himself drift to wherever he’s pulled next. A time or two it's been to Jeff’s garage while he’s practicing. Several times he’s gotten to see inside Dustin’s room late at night before the kid falls asleep. 

But the place he’s finding himself more and more often, he didn’t recognize at first. He just knew it was a basement somewhere. Drafty, door locked tight, and with nothing but dusty tools to keep him company, he found comfort in knowing that someone was remembering him. Even if only a little. Even if it’s a stranger.

Eddie’s drifted in and out of whatever kind of consciousness he experiences for a while before his surroundings morph and change. 

The kitchen of the Harrington house he would recognize anywhere. 

He smiles as he takes in the new space and thinks that if he had a human body he’d be sat up on the counter just like he is now.

Steve walks into the kitchen with a furrow in his brow and Eddie takes the time to really look.

This is the first time he’s seen Steve since the last of his air left his lungs and he’s hit with a strange sense of longing. 

Can see it in the bags under Steve’s eyes that, even now, say he’s still carrying everything on his own.

He’d always done that.

When Eddie had made that stupid, stupid decision, though he’d be loath to admit it alive, he’d wondered if Steve would've done the same thing. 

He thinks they both knew the answer was yes and that that’s the reason Steve still looks like hell even months later.

He looks like hell but he’s still so handsome walking over toward Eddie now. 

Eddie knows he can’t see him, doesn’t know he’s there. But he still finds himself longing for the closeness when Steve grabs a glass from the cabinet and leaves the room again.

In an instant Eddie’s back in the basement. Steve’s memory of him gone as quick as it came as Eddie is left with the question that followed him his whole life:

Am I no good?

As he wastes away in the drafty, cold he realizes that he doesn’t feel a pull anywhere else. He decides that seeing Steve once in a while, if only for a short time, is better than being forgotten.

It becomes a routine. Eddie’s hours will turn into days, and he’ll lose track of time. Then he’ll blink and he’s watching Steve stare at himself in the mirror. He looks like he’s been crying and like he’s going to be sick. Eddie wants nothing more than to be able to comfort him. But as quick as they come, they go, and Eddie begins to connect the dots. 

Eddie’s memory, like everything else Steve seldom allows himself to feel, gets carried with him always. But he locks them away tight in his heart and only lets them out when he thinks no one is watching. When he thinks he’s allowed to miss Eddie.

So Eddie stays in the basement, stays in Steve’s heart, heavy, guilty, until Steve’s ready to face it again.

One day it catches Steve by surprise.

Eddie can tell because he’s in the middle of putting away groceries when Eddie gets there.

At first Eddie’s confused. But then he sees the milk carton in Steve’s hand with the big MISSING: EDDIE MUNSON and his photo on the side. There’s a sale sticker over his face in what was surely some angry grocer’s last ditch effort to sell milk with the Hawkins devil on the side.

Steve’s frozen just looking at it and honestly Eddie gets it.

After everything that was lost, this may very well be the only physical memory of him that’s left save for a polaroid photo in an evidence locker somewhere.

He’s able to drift close enough to hear the breath Steve lets out before he puts it in the fridge and finishes unpacking his bags.

From that point on Eddie’s no longer in the basement.

He’s able to drift all around Steve’s house and he learns that he can touch things.

He watches Steve’s smile come back when Robin’s over.

He flits his fingers across windchimes when the air is still and watches them take in the music.

He watches Steve crash after long days at work and drags a blanket up over his shoulder.

Sees his confused face when he wakes.

He looks on when Steve pours the milk down the drain and puts the empty carton right back in the fridge.

Even though this makes him sad, he makes a smiley face out of the magnets on the door. Hopes that Steve notices.

He sees him scream out his anger late into the night and wishes that he could touch Steve.

But as time goes on he’s able to witness the way that Steve learns to carry the guilt, but to also try to let himself breathe.

Eddie spends a lot of his time wishing he were alive so that he could tell Steve he’s proud of him. That he could tell him he’s surrounded by people who would help him carry it all if he would just put it down. Wishes he were alive for a lot more reasons than just that.

But the night he gets the closest is when he figures out that he can use the phone in the office to call the one in Steve’s room while he’s away.

He’d learned early on in this afterlife that if he spoke he wouldn’t be heard. But he has a hunch that this might be an Upside-Down loophole.

He’s sitting on the floor across from where Steve’s lying in bed, and he’s watching the stream of tears drip down his pretty, pretty face while he listens to the voicemail.

Hey Stevie.

Called you just to tell you that I made it real far, and that I never blamed you for loving the way that you do while you were torn apart.

I would still wait with you there.

Don’t think about it too hard or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again. Don’t worry about me, Stevie, just know that I loved you.

And I’ll see you when you get here.

[saphstories]

WHY *SLAM* MUST *SLAM* DESIGNING *SLAM* NEW *SLAM* LOCATIONS *SLAM* BE *SLAM* SO *SLAM* DIFFICULT???? *SLAM SLAM SLAM*

[shararan]

Visual kei, Anime & Arlecchino: a (light-hearted) design analysis.

While I haven’t talked much about it, Arlecchino has driven me crazy since the trailer for A Winter Night’s Lazzo dropped. Not only is she a welcome breath of fresh air to Genshin’s female cast, but her entire design and every single element of it speaks to one of my greater joys in life, that joy being Visual Kei. And so with the Fontaine trailer out I thought I’d do an attempt at going through what aspects of Arlecchino can be compared to common styling elements within visual kei, but also how they can be potentially attributed to the influence visual kei has had on manga/anime as a whole.

‼️ I want to proceed with the disclaimer that this whole post is only intended to point out elements of Arlecchino’s design which are common style elements in visual kei. I’m someone who has been into visual kei and its other related branches for about two decades, wore the style myself (among other japanese street styles) for a very long time, but ultimately I am also just one nerd raving about why this character design brings me joy. Visual kei as a style is by definition very hard to define as being any singular thing, and so my only intent is to compare for fun’s sake!

(I also want to point out that any potential errors, be they spelling or just wording, might escape my notice as an ESL-speaker with eye problems.)

➻ With all that out of the way, let’s start with a brief rundown for anyone who might not be familiar with the heart of this entire analysis: What is visual kei?

‘Visual kei’ as a term encompasses many things. While there are disagreements regarding the validity of calling it a musical genre, visual kei can nonetheless be summarized as an alternative musical genre and movement from Japan dating its origins back to the 80s. Influenced by contemporary glam rock, visual kei has since grown into its own distinct thing over the years with many various sub branches flourishing alongside it.

The ‘visual’ part of its name is the simple concept which defines it: The style is all about conveying the utmost possible of theatrics and extravagance, and it’s in fact just as important as the music itself. Combined these two things turn into the ultimate visual performance, an experience never to forget.

The factor which makes visual kei stand out from many other subcultures and genres is the way it deals with gender presentation. Given its theatrical nature, many looking in from the outside might be shocked by just how chaotically gender and expression is displayed.

Back in the old internet days you would occasionally stumble into memes poking fun at how you could never guess the gender of a performer at first glance; If it looks like a man it’s a woman, if it looks like a man it’s a woman and any other variety of that kind of notion. And it’s true! In fact, some of the most famous artists within the genre are also known for effortlessly turning gender expression on its head (Mana, Hizaki to name but two).

➻ So how does this relate to Arlecchino?

Not only has manga and anime sought inspiration from visual kei bands and artists for a very long time (and thereby influencing a lot of stylistic choices we typically associate with those forms of media), Arlecchino is also designed with that exact type of gender nonconformity all over her!

Let’s start with her hair:

Her hair is THE most obvious example to trace to visual kei. Not only is it one main color together with separated black sections (a very common dye combination), it’s also asymmetrically styled with typical spray straightened spikes and V-shaped/spiked bangs covering only half of her forehead.

Some were discontent to find out that she has a long ponytail, describing it as “feminine”. To me this only further strengthened her visual kei vibes, as it’s pulled back and down the back, separated from the shorter parts like a mullet. It’s not uncommon to see artists wearing hair extensions (both matching and mistmatching to the main hair color) in this exact manner, and the few but dramatic accessories she wears around the knot tying the hair on itself only serve to further enhance it.

Moving onto her face, Arlecchino might at first glance look just like any other anime styled character. However, I want to note that there’s a lot to the details here worth highlighting!

First off, she wears eyeshadow with very dark and sharp lashes and thin, upturned eyebrows. While there isn’t any one specific way of doing visual kei makeup, the fact remains that her eyes does resemble the typical key features that’s become commonly associated with the style since 00s. Her cross shaped irises also resemble the types of contact lenses some artists use.

As for her outfit, there are clear and obvious similarities to bands of the late 90s/early 00s: Ornate outer coat with ruffled sleeves, long pants with similar ruffle gathered around the shoes, waistcoat and fancy collar, as well as the highly decorated heels and claw-like nails on her gloves + rings.

While I couldn’t locate a specific picture unfortunately at the time of writing, gloves with metal claws or outright clawed gauntlets aren’t an unknown sight among very flashy visual kei bands.

This type of overall outfit silhouette displayed is, within the genre, obviously related to Elegant Gothic Aristocrat and western style Romantic Goth. Bands with this type of look might choose (but not always) to incorporate classical instruments and opera like vocals into their sound, as well as put a lot of emphasis on stage performances through the use of props, dancers and choirs. The first major bands to come to mind are Malice Mizer and Versailles, but I’m also reminded of ones such as Megaromania, Art Cube, Phantasmagoria etc.

However, in the case of Arlecchino there’s a somewhat “rugged” air to her overall look, which brings to mind bands during the mid 00s who would opt for a slightly trashier look, as well as a more chaotic heavier, sceamier sound. Leather and latex, shredded sleeves, chains, you get the picture. Bands coming to mind are the GazettE, (Old school) Dir en Grey, D’espairsRay, Born, Saruin, Exist Trace etc. If you combine the two types of flavours mentioned, I also want to mention UnsraW.

We also gain a peek of her ears between the spiked sections of her hair. While she has very simple style earrings, this of course is another common deliberate choice when styling the hair, particularly for artists whose ears are quite literally fully covered in jewelry.

While no particular look has any bearing on someone’s role in a band, this specific type of look is one I personally associate a lot with singers and front men. Highly fitting for Arlecchino whose presence demands your attention!

➻ Conclusion

Arlecchino mostly reminds me of bands that emerged and flourished during the mid 00s, but with strong 90s vibes as a cherry on the top. It’s also worth mentioning how aesthetically similar she is to the band Exist Trace, aka the arguably most famous female band in the genre.

It’s an extremely good mesh with the Fatui as the Tsaritsa’s theatre troupe, and its only more than fitting that Arlecchino debuts alongside Fontaine!

Obviously I cannot say for certain whether or not any of these points I made where deliberate design choices on Hoyoverse’s side (not just for Arlecchino but also other characters in Genshin who all have various degrees of the same influences) or if they’re simply a result of unknown influence. The influences visual kei has had on manga and anime cannot be understated, with many mangaka having drawn inspiration from visual kei bands and artists throughout the years (as well as other related but technically not visual bands such as BUCK-TICK and Guniw Tools) .

Many people assume that visual kei and other alternative japanese fashion subcultures drew inspiration from manga and anime, but it’s rather these styles that have served as the influence instead! Numerous bands have even lended their talents to create opening and ending songs to anime series. Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler is an obvious example of a series inspired by visual kei/ouji/lolita/aristocrat fashion and with visual kei bands performing for it.

All in all, this entire analysis is once again only meant to point out the various elements which makes Arlecchino so enjoyable to me personally as a character. Her look with the large coat in the trailer for A Winter Night’s Lasso made me super nostalgic to when I myself dressed that way on the daily, and when I styled it with a very similar jacket I had at the time. I don’t think people realize just how much contact they may have had with visual kei at first, and I tend to point this out often to people I meet when the topic comes up. I guess this was the essay format of that HAHAHA.

All in all, Arlecchino really speaks to me, both from a fashion but also (bi)gender point of view, and I literally cannot WAIT to finally meet her ingame once and for all!

[complicatedsquishy]

So as a little fanfic writer I sometimes run into a writing block. And something that's worked for me is to shift to writing a different fic for a little while. A special kind of fic I call "This will never see the light of day". Like how artists do warm up sketches, I like to use this fic to do warm up writing or break writing. It helps to get myself focused and in the mindset of writing a story. I can work out any awkward bumps and then it helps me focus more in the fic I'm working on.

For this warm-up fic I usually write something super self-indulgent (more so than usual anyway) or some sort of self-insert cringe fest and there's just something so fun about writing fic without the thought that someone else is going to see it. I feel less pressure when shifting to writing my "actual" fanfic that I'm working on.

The only danger is when the self-indulgent cringe fest starts to become so fun you forget to go back to the other fanfic lol

[comfortlesshurt]

it may have taken 50+ times telling myself "this can be bad, it's the worst version, you're gonna edit it later" but

almost a third of the way there for the first fic!

AND final count for today:

yes, yessssss, it's all coming together now

[starpros-sunshine]

also i think that after seeing that Something is going out with his eichisama tori should also sneak into town to go and see what's the deal with this wataru guy. and he inevitably gets lost but meets hajime and they have a bonding moment barbie movie-style and him and tomoya help tori meet wataru. and then wataru sees tomoya and goes "oho! interesting child!" which once again leads to eichi unreasonable jealousy against this poor random kid

Okay so I've been thinking on this and I've been trying to get something coherent and bear with me right right.

(this got so long again I just started going into detail and detail and detail and oh god I am so sorry)

So Tori, poor, innocent Tori, has to come to terms with the fact that Eichi is hiding something from him (that "Something" being a tall blue-haired extra of unknown origin) and he knows that, technically, the mature thing would be to leave it alone. Eichi will have his reasons for being a little secretive about it. He has his own life and if he doesn't want to be open about...whatever it is that seems to be going on there.... then he doesn't have to be because the man has a right to privacy.

Tori knows that. But Tori also knows that being mature doesn't matter if, technically, his beloved Eichi-sama could be at risk of giving his heart away to a scoundrel that only wishes to play with him until he's bored and then throws him away, breaking Eichis heart in the process. We couldn't have that! And what if he's a criminal? Can you really trust someone who snoops around on other peoples property without their knowing? No you can't! So really it's only natural Tori wants to know what that guys deal is. Out of a genuine concern for his friend. Of course.

And so obviously it's a completely acceptable and normal and rational decision when he sees that Yuzuru isn't there for a moment to keep watch over him like the guard dog that he is (really Tori isn't a child anymore there's no need to be so overprotective) and the other staff members also don't seem to be around and Eichi is also nowhere to be seen, that he decides to take his coat and pack his little bag with some money (read: more money than just "some" money) and tries to sneak out of the house and down the path across the small meadow and the bit of forest that separates their not-so-humble abode from the small town where the other people live.

His inital plan simple. Go there; ask around a little, maybe try some tailing (after hearing stories from the other aristocrats about how one is able to hire people to follow their spouses around without them noticing - and that apparently being an actual thing people earn their money with - he's decided that it can't be that hard and he should try his luck.) and then leaving as quickly as possible, lest Yuzuru die of a heart attack after finding out Tori dissappeared. It would be quick and easy and nobody would ever find out. That was the original plan. But Tori very soon comes to find that that could prove harder than he thought when he notices he actually really really enjoys the feeling of not having anyone hover over him like some sort of falcon watching their prey.

The little river running by the path through the meadow is still frozen (It is winter after all) and the snow on the ground almost reaches his ankles. The 15 minute walk takes him 30 because he keeps jumping around in the snow (He's made three snow angels by now. For a second he has to think of his sister and of how nice it would be if she were here with him too and how they could make snow angels together were it not for her having to stay with their parents, but he pushes that thought to the back of his head again and decides to move on with his way).

When he eventually arrives at the town - and after just wandering aimlessly through the rather empty streets - there are three major epiphanies.

The first one is that he doesn't have a clear destination. He has no idea where to look for the blue-haired weirdo. The second is that, seeing as it is a forenoon in january, most people probably aren't spending their time outside. And if they are then they are at a different place than where he is. And the third and final one: He is completely and utterly lost.

It should be regarded as an accomplishment really. Getting lost in a town with a population of barely 300 locals living there. Indeed Tori would think it impossible. Yet here he is. If anything he's sure he's at least the only one who can claim this feat for himself. This is fine. He has this under control. If he just keeps walking then he's sure to come out somewhere (No there are no tears in his eyes anyone who says otherwise is just imagining things (he decidedly ignores the little voice in his head that tells him "Who's gonna say otherwise. Look around yourself, have you forgotten that you're all alone here?")). So the big brave boy that he is he marches onward, ignoring the way his fingers have started to feel numb from the cold and his eyes have not stopped watering and the little voice in the back of his head that tells him he should've just listened to Yuzuru (He banishes that one to the deepest depths of his subconscious very quickly. There are blows that his pride can take in these situations and then there's having to agree with "You should've just listened to Yuzuru". If There is one thing that can be said about Tori then it's that he is not one to simply give up. He has come this far and he'll be damed if he backs out now).

Lost in thought and not paying much attention to his surroundings (he has more important things to think about right now), he only manages to register a flash of blue in his peripheral vision. And because this could be what he's come here for in the first place but more importantly because this is a person and that is where the bar is set, Tori immediately tries to follow them. If Lady Luck is especially nice to him this time she lets this person be the mysterious stranger he's been looking for, but what feels like a day of walking through empty streets in the biting cold of a noon in late january have humbled him enough to not push it with his luck.

And when he turns the corner, calling out for the figure to wait, insted of the strange man he was expecting he comes face-to-face with a meekish looking boy with blue hair and big violet eyes and next to him there's a second boy, this one able to be described in all aspects with only one word: average. And for a solid ten seconds they all just stare at each other.

Tori doesn't really know how, he really has no idea, but somehow he ended up following the two home. Or, well, more or less. Following isn't really the right word here. After their almost-staring-competition on the street the meekish looking one with the blue hair asked him if he was alright because "he seemed lost" (he absolutely did not.) which then prompted an entire series of events that ended is Tori sitting in this strangers families home - with an entirely different stranger also there - getting a serving of what he assumes to be radish soup. Tori feels a little sorry for the boy, Tomoya, as he said his name was, who seemed like he was previously engaged in a conversation with the other boy, who later introduced himself as Hajime and who had spent the entire way asking him questions about how he ended up here and what someone like him was doing all alone in a sleepy village neighbourhood like theirs and if he really didn't need a tissue (He hadn't cried while explaining how he was lost. He totally hadn't) and on and on and on as Tomoya had to awkwardly walk behind them.

So now, sitting at this table with these two people who he has only met today and who have given him a bowl of soup to warm himself up with, he has to tell everything about how he ended up in this situation in the first place. At the end of his recollection of this oh so wonderful day he is met with two pitying looks an a laugh - apparently one of Hajimes younger siblings had joined them at their little impromptu gathering (he wonders, distantly, how his own sister is doing right now).

And as he's about to say that he should probably make his way home and resume his mission another time when he has a map, Hajime mentions that he actually knows the guy Tori is talking about and that he lives at the local inn and that that isn't that far from them and that he and Tomoya can walk him there if he wants to. Tori agrees immediately. He is so over trying to be discreet about it at this point he really just wants some sort of success in this kind of ridiculous endeavour he's set out on.

So after the soup is finished and his limbs don't feel like they're about to fall off anymore the trio goes on their merry way and Tori feels a little silly because for all the walking around he did before they reach this inn really pretty quickly... maybe he should've thought to bring a map... The three of them venture further into the inn, and Tori only overhears Hajime talking to an older woman, but he's more occupied with looking around the place. It's father homely and rustic, a completely different atmosphere than at their place. There are noises from the few patrons sitting at the tables and chatting with each other, but it only add to the cozy feeling of the entire place.

When Hajime comes back he leads Tori up a little stairway and down a dimly lit hallway. They stop in front of a door at the very end of it (in my head there's a bit of a terasse thing happening there like. you can look down into the part where the tables are and such right right) and Tori barely has time to mentally prepare for the fact that this really is happening now before Hajime knocks and the sound of muffled steps approaching the door can be heard.

When the door finally opens (it's been a few seconds at best but it feels like an eternity), Tori is greeted by the lovely view of a pair of pale clavicles, barely covered by a black linen blouse. He has to actively look up to look at the face of their owner and when he is met with a pair of sharp, purple eyes he feels like his throat just sew itself shut. Hajime explains to Wataru that Tori was looking for him and suddenly a light seems to go up above Watarus head as a look of recognition flashes over his face and he turns around to Tori again and asks him if he's "the princess that Eichi's been telling him all about". Tori is confused. Hajime decides that this is his cue to leave and he slowly backs away to go back down and collect Tomoya, who's been roped into helping out with the catering by some elder gentleman (Wataru watches Hajime as he collects Tomoya and they leave, intrigued by this strangely average boy, as Tori just stares in horror as the realisation dawns upon him that he is now completely alone with this man whom he didn't even intend on speaking to in the first place).

So now he is here. In this very awkward situation. Sitting on a chair in this strangers room (for the second time today! Did he ever have a day this eventful? Who knows! Tori for sure doesn't.). He wants to talk, but Wataru is faster and asks him what he's doing here. Tori doesn't really know how to reply. How do you talk your way around having to tell someone that you actually got lost on the way to spy on them. That's right. You can't. Well, Eichi could. But Tori is Tori and he never wished for that to change more than he did now.

He looks out of the window and it is at that moment that another three major epiphanies reach him. Firstly that he doesn't know what to do now that he's here, secondly that he's going to get murdered by Yuzuru (and if worst comes to worst also Eichi) once he gets back because he's been gone all day without telling anyone and they're probably all worried sick, and last but not least: it is dark outside. He can't go home like that. He is virtually stuck in this predicament he found himself in.

Wataru seems to have a similar thought, because the immediate follow up question after not really getting a coherent answer from Tori is if anyone knows he's gone. Tori shakes his head. If Tsukasa ever finds out about this mess of a situation he will have to die because he would never let Tori live that down.

He gets ripped out of his incoming spiral by the bird that takes a seat on his head and Watarus over-the-top contemplative sigh and the slight lilt in his voice when he voices the next issue that's in the room. He isn't even speaking to Tori anymore, but to his bird that sits on Toris head, Jeanne, and Tori is starting to get annoyed by the way he jokes about this entire thing, calling Tori a "a little bird that escaped its nest", as if he isn't stuck having to prepare for his untimely demise. And by the way this guy hasn't put down his cryptic smile and teasing voice ever since he entered the room. When he thinks things can't get any more awkward for him Wataru proposes two options. Either he walks him home, or Tori has to stay at the inn for the night and he brings him back in the morning. Tori decides he'd rather go back home sooner than later (he'll have to take the lacture either way and he's probably caused everyone enough worries by now anyways. And also he misses his bed.). So Wataru grabs his coat, quickly goes to tell the inn-keepers he's "bringing retuening the princess to ger people" (Tori doesn't know if he liked the bird comparison better or not).

The way back is still very tense because Tori does not dare to walk next to Wataru (he's sketchy it's not Toris fault it's a normal reaction) and so he just awkwardly walks behind him, He doesn't really watch his surroundings - it is dark and the only nice thing is that it's snowing and there are animal sounds and they are spooky and he needs to watch the way and it's easier to think that way - until suddenly he gets hit by a snowball right in the head. And he is so baffled by this that he just stares at Wataru, and Wataru grins at him with his stupid stupid grin and somehow they end up in a snowball fight on this meadow where the only reason you can see anything is because of the snow and when they finally arrive at the mansion they both have so much snow in their hair and their clothes are wet from the melted snow and when they knock on the door and wait for someone to open Wataru gets some of the snow out of Toris hair and says that that snowball fight can be their little shared secret and Tori grins back at him and agrees and when the door opens and both of them are frantically ushered in by a maid that tells another one to get Yuzuru and Eichi Tori decides that maybe this guy isn'r so bad after all. Maybe he's actually quite nice.

[sangoqueenkoko]

bewitched

sort of fluffy… maybe a twinge of angst here and there.

Wendigoon/reader (platonic lmao)- he FINALLY UPLOADED AAAAAA-

MAIN MASTERLIST | OTHERS MASTERLIST

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Summary: Being separated from your friends while on a camping trip in the woods is scary enough, but how different would that fear be if one was to come face to face with a creature people never thought would ever exist?

Warnings? Occasional bad words? (i don't remember, I write the summary and warnings before the actual thing). And I mention his first name more than once, that's a recurring thing in these. you are the wendigo.

This is a great song to write with, it gets the brain going, especially on tense and fast-paced parts.

and this is more of a chill vibe for everything else.

also, upon writing this, I researched what a wendigo sounds like so I can include it in this and- holy sh*t- no thank you-!

Started writing on January 11th 2023, but posted when he uploaded next... i know... a while.

2.6k words-

According to most Algonquian oral traditions, a windigo is a cannibalistic monster that preys on the weak and socially disconnected.

In most versions of the legend, a human becomes a windigo after a person's spirit is corrupted by greed or weakened by extreme conditions, such as hunger and cold. In other legends, humans become windigos when possessed by a prowling spirit during a moment of weakness.

There are different versions of the word “windigo,” and there are many variations on the creature’s appearance and powers. Sometimes, windigos are described as exceptionally thin, with the skull and skeleton pushing through their ash-coloured, mummy-like skin. Other stories describe the windigo as a well-fleshed giant that gets proportionately larger the more it eats. According to other legends, the windigo has pointed or animal-like ears with antlers or horns sprouting on its head. A windigo’s eyes have been described as sunken or glowing like hot coals. Sharp and pointy teeth are characterised to tear through all sorts of materials...

It was... a curse to some. But for you,... it was... natural.

Walking on the well-worn-down desired path in the woods that many people have used with his friends, Isaiah looked around at the scenery near and far. He loved being out in the wilderness, it lets the body and mind take a break from the clutter of society, and it felt rewarding and deserving. There was a point in the walk where they were all quiet for a little while to just take in the surroundings, the only sounds were the sounds of shoes and leaves from on the beaten path, coats rubbing against themselves as their arms moved while walking and the birds in the surrounding trees. Perfect. The weather was perfect also, even if the mud was a little soft from a few days before their initial arrival, but it got better from there, as the sun rays were breaking through the branches high above.

And after a few pits stops throughout the day and hours later, they arrived at their next stop where they would spend their final night in the woods. Not saying that they're gonna die, just saying that they're gonna go home the next day. Even though that day it had been warm, the temperature can change drastically at night, so seeing as there were four people in total, two stayed at the campsite, and two went together to collect more firewood as the fire was only small for now. And they needed more. So Isaiah and one of his friends volunteered to go, luckily they still had some daylight to work with, but they bought their torches just in case at before they know it, the light would be gone.

Sometime later, they both gathered enough wood to return to camp, which was easily seen in the distance. Could you be sure to keep that in mind? Walking back, Isaiah thought that he must have daydreamed for a minute or so, because one second he was walking back to camp, and the next he realised that he was nowhere near the camp. Looking around, he thought that he must have walked further than he originally thought. But even if that was the case, one of his friends must have stopped him from walking into the dark woods ahead, right? Right? He looked up at the sky, it was the same as before, only that it was a little darker. So, understandably, he was confused as to where he travelled to in such a short amount of time, that short the sky didn't change must. He knew he wasn't dreaming.

Luckily, he came prepared. He brought a compass to retrace his steps. Albeit dark now, the night vision goggles were a great help. But it didn't feel... cold. It didn't feel the temperature it would be at night time, it felt normal like in the daytime. ...even if it wasn't daytime now. But he was understandably confused. How could his friends and the camp be right there, in one second, and then... not there the next?

But seeing as he was now alone somehow. This made him think. He thought of who or what else could be in the same area of woods with him. Black bears? Wild Hogs? Red Foxes? All of them have a chance of being near.

Then out of nowhere, he heard this high-pitched wailing, it echoed all around him, bouncing off everything, and it sounded as if something was... in pain, and he thought about going to see if he could help. But he had second thoughts as he didn't know what it was and the thought was immediately cast aside when he heard some distant growling come from the same direction. Fear stricken, the best option in this situation to do was to hide, and so he did, in a hollowed-out fallen tree. Heavy breathing. Sweaty palms. Wild eyes and a busy mind. The fear was paralyzing. Judging from the sounds that this... thing made, he instantly knew that this thing was not at all human. Not at all. But he just didn't know what it was. Was he asleep and he was dreaming this and he just wasn't aware of this? He doesn't know. Because he would remember being in the tent before falling asleep.

He could defend himself, no doubt about that. He still had his gun. But he was scared to even make his presence known at all. This thing began to come closer, he looked through a hole in the bark, and what he saw was... like a dream. He never thought that he would EVER be able to see what he is seeing right now. It was so tall, like a tree, like a dead tree to be more specific. Its bones pushed out against its skin, its complexion the ash-grey of death, and its eyes pushed back deep into their sockets. Like the living embodiment of death itself.

It was an actual wendigo.

And he couldn't be more fascinated yet terrified.

He was bewitched.

Its tall, lanky legs were all he could see as it walked past him, for it to be able to detect him, he had to be moving. And its tactic to make things move, thus scaring it, was to let out its painful, whale-like screech that rang out in every direction. Luckily for Isaiah, he didn't move, as he was currently fascinated, but trying to keep himself calm to prevent him from doing such things as running away. That would make him known to the creature and ultimately put his life at risk.

Even though he had to get away somehow. He did not want to risk getting more lost than he already is, he wanted to get back to the camp... wherever that may be. And with what felt like an eternity to him later, with the wendigo a distance away, he started to make his way back to the campsite in question, he thought that everything would seem familiar eventually as they passed it earlier in the day.

Okay enough of me rambling;-;

For the small amount of time that they were both in close proximity, the wendigo,… in other words, you, had a feeling that someone else was near, but was not so sure. Even if your senses are heightened, like heightened senses of smells. How you weren't able to detect him that way was sort of questionable.

But it being dark, and not the ideal temperature, Isaiah was tired, he just wanted to rest, as anyone would want when they've had a weirdly scary experience. The body lacking the sleep it needed did not help the basic functions, such as shivers from temperature, which was the body trying to keep itself warm and keep awake, sort to speak.

Finding shelter was the most important thing needed in this situation, even if it was a fallen tree, he made his move towards it when you were not around. The layering of clothing made it more bearable, as he was dressed to withstand the weather, and even if primal instincts were to light a fire, he could still be putting himself at risk as the fire would be seen as the movement by you, which would lure you. Even if it makes living easier.

At some point in the middle of the night, he was woken by the sound of footsteps walking nearby, crushing the leaves and fallen sticks/branches nearby. And these footsteps sounded familiar, not human as they did not sound human. Is it back? He thought, quickly sitting up and grabbing his water flask, as it felt like his mouth was as dry as the decaying tree he was currently residing under for the night. Quietly twisting the cap off the flask before drinking a few much-needed mouthfuls, he was correct, it had come back.

And even if legend does state that it has an undying hunger that would drive it to eat anything that it senses moving, it wouldn't go by him. Even if he did accidentally make movement by dropping the lid of his flask onto the shrubs beside him, thus creating a quiet rustling sound, the head of the beast spun round to look in the direction, facing directly at Isaiah.

Its hearing was impeccable, remember?

Like last time, heavy breathing. Sweaty palms. Wild eyes and a busy mind. The fear was paralyzing. Only that his heart wasn't raising so fast. It elevated a little but nothing major. There was a sound coming from the creature, it was much quieter than last time, the echoing whale-like sounds, only softer. Less brash. As if it didn't want to scare away whatever was around it or in its path. That being Isaiah.

These forever blood-seeking instincts that were programmed into you had... calmed down. For the time being, at least. You had not ripped him up to shreds the second your senses were laid upon him.

More soft sounds came from the creature as it slowly walked towards the area he was currently residing in, its steps were heavy, yet soft. As if it didn't want to be seen as careless, even if they are by nature. The growling coming from it was not so harsh as it would be if, in its hostile state, it was almost... curious? By the time it was where Isaiah was hiding, he held his breath as you the beast leaned down to inspect the area. And it found something. Him.

He glanced at it. He didn't want to make eye contact for fear that it would enrage this... thing that could do catastrophic things, causing it to do other unexplainable things, such as hurt him, or worse. Even if he had glanced at it up close, he could see every single detail of its scratched, cracked and worn face, every single marking on it has its own little story, be it good or bad. It had been through a lot. They both had. Especially in the past few hours. Like now. Because in the last few seconds, it had made its way even closer to Isaiah. So close that he could touch you it.

He does not know what made him do it, but he did it. He touched your its head. Expecting the feeling to be rough, it was rough, but also smooth in some areas where let's face it, you had to get into some tricky areas to reach certain things, resulting in your head rubbing against other textured surfaces, but it isn't like you were bothered by it at all. You were both very surprised at this sudden turn of events.

Yet still curious. Even if this situation does seem kind of familiar. Both of you expected it to not go so well, but it was the exact opposite, it went really well. His touch was soft and gentle, which even he did not expect. No one did.

What stayed at the front of his mind is what a wendigos behaviour should be like, which is seen as the embodiment of gluttony, greed, and excess: never satisfied after killing and consuming one person, and constantly searching for new victims. But you, you weren't doing those things now. Yes, you would be doing it when he isn't around, but now, you were mutual with him. As if you were getting along. Which he found... a little suspicious to say the least. But with another glimpse into your dead-like eyes, he found out it was genuine. You weren't so hostile.

It felt like you two were familiar with each other, and had been since, what felt like, forever. It was a bewitching moment.

But, as usual, all good things must come to an end.

Your instincts kicked in again, and you growled, but not at him, despite the amount of fear you had just injected into him in such a short time. You screeched, he threw his hands onto the sides of his head, pressing his ears to block out the piercing sound, but with wild eyes, he watched whatever you were doing. Because if your natural behavioural instincts had indeed kicked in again, he doesn't want himself to be caught with his guard down.

Screeching into the distance, at something, you ran fast into the deep forest. The torch beside Isaiah flickered before cutting out for a few seconds, coming back on again after.

He was prepared to fight back. He didn't have to. It is rare to leave a wendigo unscathed. He was unscathed, he beat the odds.

What just happened? Was the only thing that went through his mind, Am I alive? Indeed he was alive and unscathed. But he was cold and tired. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see other people again.

After some time of gathering his thoughts, and putting them into line, he gathered his stuff, and his breath, and began to make his way back into the direction he remembered the camp to be. And, thankfully, he saw an orange glow in the distance.

Fire. From a campfire.

Getting closer, it was becoming obvious that his friends had noticed that he had disappeared, and later he would find out that he was gone for hours. And that panicked his friends, they were so close to calling the forest rangers. They had been calling his name for what felt like forever.

And when he walked back to camp, his friends were so relieved that they could potentially yell at him and cry for wandering off, but he had no idea how to explain what happened, he was cold and tired, yet still slightly disconnected from reality. All they knew is that he had been through something rough, as they saw the state he was in, and now he was safe.

Something so... unnaturally pleasant that happened was bound to stay in his mind forever and would become a great story to tell others. ...that would be when he has gotten over it.

He knew that this would never happen again, which he was grateful for, yet... sad. Because he knew that he would never see you again, and he was thankful that you never did any harm to him, you were just curious. But at home, in his room where you can see all sorts of wendigo-related memorabilia in his videos, one of them secretly symbolised you. Viewers would spot the new figure, but they would never truly know the story behind it, only Isaiah.

Something he thought would never exist, did.

And he will always be bewitched.

—

IT'S FINALLY FINIIIIISHED!!!!

[tipytap]

hrgrgrggrgrgrgegegegererrrrrr i have too many IDEAS in my little gay brain

[comical-icicle]

@exist101 I blame you for this idea

Basically a small story of Steamworks, mainly centered around Zack, Sprocket, and Sully before the events of the island. Under a keep reading because I got carried away

Sully’s Garage had strong metal pipes running through the place, transporting water and heat from the furnace- located in the corner of the building- around the place and to Sully’s Steam-Powered Paraphernalia, the pipes were kept separated, curving around one another whenever they intended to overlap in locations. Crates of mechanical parts were spread around the place and a few screws had fallen out, glinting against the light provided, while the tools were neatly hung up near a table with gears and a small can of oil. Since many of the machines the islanders have created were steam-powered, the oil was only used to make sure that the metal wouldn’t rust but it was also the strongest smell in the garage.

The sound of metal clanking against metal filled the air of the garage as a young man worked to adjust one part of the machine he was working on. The man had red hair and pale skin, though his face had freckles revealing the time in the sun he had spent previously. His brown gloves currently wielding a wrench as the suit was leaned down in front of him. Sighing he ran his fingers through his hair, the tangles getting caught and the man winced at the accidental tug. He attached the wrench to the toolbelt that hung loosely around his waist as he moved to grab the welding equipment, thankfully having enough sense to readjust his goggles - circular ones with a gold tint around the lenses- over his eyes. His brown welding jacket and heavy brown boots had already been put on over his light blue shirt and dark blue pants. There was only a moment of hesitation as he glanced over at the garage door, making sure no one was paying a surprise visit before having the device hum to life and he did brief segments to weld the two metal pieces together, making sure to look away right before each push of the button.

The machine itself was a maintenance mech, a mech suit that the young man had designed to be multi-functional. What the multi-functions were? He didn’t quite know yet, but that was the fun of being an inventor, trying out and designing new attachments. However, the suit itself wasn’t quite done yet. The young man huffed and went to the chalkboard, quickly scribbling down the two parts he still needed. The two parts would be easy to install and were all ready to go, the mech crank was currently in his room as he had pulled an all-nighter to finally get it done but had just forgotten it when it was time to head down to the garage and the steam motor were sold by Sully, another inventor that let him rent out her garage.

The sound of a propellor approaching suddenly filled the young man’s ears along with the faint sound of footsteps following behind. A loud squeak was heard as the mechanism he was standing on was lowered to the ground, followed up with an almost human but the electrical buzz giving away the machine, “Zaaaack!”

Zack turned to the two figures approaching with a smile and a small wave. The first that quickly approached, stopping just before crashing into him, was a robot he had built that he had named Sprocket. Sprocket was a smaller robot, at least compared to ones the other inventors have been building around town, but had more expressions that Zack had built in with a system where Sprocket would have his head blocked from view by metal plating, similar to a knight’s helmet movement, before coming back into view with the different emotion. Sprocket also had two spindly arms and was light in weight. Considering that his main way of moving was to use his propellor to fly, this was not a surprise. The second figure was another short haired red head with pale skin, Sully. Her goggles were adjusted to the top of her head and had a brown vest with a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, wearing similar pants and boots to the ones Zack was wearing, and had a more peach-like color for the lipstick she wore. In her hand was a small bottle filled with water.

“Thanks for letting me borrow Sprocket for a bit. He’s been a lot of help and the customers love him.” Sully said, handing him the bottle of water, which Zack gladly accepted as he now realized just how thirsty he was. He shrugged as he struggled to open the bottle with gloved hands and responded, “It’s no trouble, Sprocket likes your shop so he never really gets bored there. Technically, I should be thanking you for watching him while I was busy.”

Sully glanced behind Zack and over at the Maintenance Mech with a raised brow. She commented, “Ah, still working on your latest project I see.”

“Yeah, it’s been-“ Zack was saying before being cut off by Sprocket saying, “Three months and fifteen days.”

A look over at the powered down machine had Sprocket add, “and counting.”

Zack laughed at that before finally managing to get the bottle open and taking a sip of the water before pulling the bottle away and stare at it for a moment. Tilting her head, Sully asked if something was wrong. Shaking his head, Zack responded that the water just tasted a little strange, but may have been from his lack of drinking anything all day. He pretended not to notice the disapproving stare down that Sully gave him as he awkwardly took another sip.

“Well, what else do you need to do before I finally get my garage back?” She asked, returning to her usual state with a playful jab of her elbow to Zack’s arm. It didn’t hurt, but he still rubbed the area that was hit. Zack responded that he just needed a steam motor from Sully’s store and the mech crank at his home and then he would have all the parts he would need to complete the device. His eyebrows raised as a low hiss of an inhale was heard and he asked if something was wrong. Sully’s face scrunched up slightly as she informed Zack, “I wish you told me earlier, I just sold the last one. They’re installing them into the bridges to help them raise and lower more smoothly.”

His face fell at the news and let out a small sigh. Not wanting to see Zack in such a sad state, Sprocket piped up, “Well, the factory should be making a fresh batch since they’re so popular right now. You could get one then!”

“Yeah, I’ll place an order and store one away. Shouldn’t be a problem.” Sully added with a small nod. Zack lifted his head and gave the two of them an excited smile, “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, you’re my best friend!” That came from Sprocket.

”Yeah, you’ve been stinking up my garage. Need to get you out before it’s permanent for future customers.” That came from Sully.

Zack let out a small laugh before setting his toolbelt on the table and suggesting, “Hey, why don’t we take a walk around town? I heard they were installing a new platform system.”

“That’s what you’re excited about? I’ve seen it and it looks like it’s gears would stop turning in… I give it about a year.” Sully responded, crossing her arms. Shrugging, Zack told her that he still wanted to see it, and maybe they could suggest improvements if it was really that bad which made her wave her hand in dismissal and say, “Well, you have fun, but I should head back to shop. Captain Ziggs is supposed to come by some time today and I don’t want to miss him.”

“I can go with you, Zack!” Sprocket offered, which made Zack smile and nod. After their plans were made, the three walked out of the garage, leaving behind the strong smell of oil and the faint smell of freshly cut grass behind.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

now & forever

cw. olnf week 2024, pre!release, step 2, day 3, pre!relationship, slight angst with a healthy dose of comfort

pairing. qiu lin/hash browns (ft. sparkling leaves)

notes. day 3 of @olnfweek2024. me? writing for qiu lin? i know, check and see if it is hailing in summer i can't believe this is happening either. my good friend @hash-slinging-slasher-trash recently got done with their final exams for their summer semester so this is a treat for them. surprise! (even if i am sure this was obvious considering my questions from yesterday lmao)

“You can roll your neck and stomp your feet but this black girl you sure won’t beat!” Nyla and Serenity chant in audible unison from across campus, moving in accordance to the words. From where they sit, Hash can see Tamarack giggling at the antics. Black Kid Solidarity, Nyla calls it. She finds it where she can. While not a member of that particular duo, Hash’s lips curl into an instinctive smile. The energy is contagious.

Dark raspberry eyes catch blue eyes observing the scene.

“Hi,” Tamarack mouths, her smile small but courteous as she waves.

Hash waves back with a small smile of her own, balancing her tray carefully with one hand. “Hey,” they mouthed back.

Hash remembers Tamarack’s squeals as they climbed atop the tire swing her grandfather set up. The cool autumn wind scratching their cheeks and lifting their laughs and giggles to the heavens.

When was it those times playing in that tire became infrequent? Hash can’t recall; four years is four centuries in teenage years.

Tamarack shuffles to the side on the grass with a hopeful expression, thin eyebrows knit carefully. When did Tamarack start plucking them again? When did I start noticing in the first place? Hash wonders what it says about her that she can’t remember that either when a long time ago it felt like her and Tamarack’s friendship was tighter than gorilla glue. Slowly but surely, that bond had been weathered by the rain.

There were no storms that attacked their friendship. No trials.

Just the passage of time.

Hash sees the spread of trays on the grass, like it’s a picnic. “Sorry,” Hash mouths and Tamarack nods in unsurprised understanding.

Hash and Tamarack were friends; they’re still friends. Standing across a ways from one another during lunch hour, however, the physical distance feels representative of their state of affairs.

Hash, Nyla, Tamarackー The new kids.

Four years ago, it felt like the three of them against the world as fellow newcomers to Acorn Rd. Golden Grove, Oregon.

“You ever stop to think how we’re like a reverse oreo?” Nyla, age 11, noted from where she lazily laid back against the Browns porch step. Summer was the worst season in Golden Grove and not even the chilled watermelon pieces in the bowl split between them could completely fight the heat. “Y’all are the vanilla whites, I’m the chocolate filling.”

Hash choked on their piece, “Nyla, shut up!”

“Hey I’m the one who said it, y’all can laugh,” Nyla stuck out her tongue with a snicker. “Quit smiling if you don’t think it’s funny, Lord Hashington!”

Tamarack’s small hands covered her face, unable to contain her laughter. There hadn’t been an attempt to stop it in the first place. The two of them were always the blunt new kid trio members, saying most anything that came to their mind.

Four years later, the world has split a world with the three of them distinctly in different sects. Friends… but not best friends.

Four years in the past, the kids of the cul-de-sac were a quartet.

Four years in the present, there’s a line. A distinct one.

We’re all still friends, Hash tells themself. Most of us. 

Qiu and Tamarack’s relationship had fallen off compared to the rest. The two of them aside, things aren’t the same anymore and Hash has come to accept that. Tamarack is going to leave one day, tugged down a path by her parents. Qiu sinks more and more into themselves, outsiders unable to penetrate their newfound icy fortress. Nyla’s problems are harder to look into when she keeps them hidden behind bad jokes and laidback nonchalance.

Of their original friend group, everyone has a favorite.

Nyla and Tamarack’s eyes have always been reserved for each other.

Qiu has Hash and Hash has Qiu.

Nyla’s lunch hour is reserved for Tamarack and Hash’s hour has always been reserved for Qiu. Speaking of Qiu, Hash knew they were waiting for them in Mr. Murray’s class. “See you,” they wave one last time before turning towards the building the professor’s class is located in.

Things might have changed with Nyla and Tamarack, simultaneously grand and minute the changes have been, but things have never and will never change with Mx. Qiu Lin.

Hash finds them as they always do, draped over a desk lazily with their brown hair spread across their shoulders haphazardly. “Qiulet,” Hash calls playfully and a brown eye opens unamused. “I’ve finally returned from the battlefield. Looks like you don’t need to come down from your balcony, after all.”

“It was never a balcony in the first place, you weirdo,” Qiu murmurs, leaning back to sit properly in their chair as Hash placed their tray between them.

“Not-so-secret hideout, Juliet’s balcony,” Hash rolls their eyes in mock irritation. “What’s the difference?”

Qiu smirks, resting their chin on their palm, “sounds like plenty to me.”

Hash sits down with their nose in the air pointedly smug, “well it’s a good thing you’re not the one in charge of my allusions.” Qiu’s response is to take one of Hash’s fries. For someone who said they weren’t hungry, that never stops Qiu from suddenly desiring food when someone else provides it. Regardless, there’s little that isn’t shared between them now. Hash feels no reason to make a fuss. “You gonna go to ballet practice for once?”

“That depends, who’s asking?” Qiu raises a brow lazily.

Your mother, technically. Mrs. Lin knew it’d be a pointless endeavor in bringing it up herself, however, so she relied on you, the Qiu Whisperer. “Me,” Hash replies smoothly. “I wanna have a post-lunch show after school. I haven’t seen you practice in a while, so I guess I felt like going. Only if you want though.”

Qiu shrugs, taking another fry thoughtfully before eventually relenting, “I guess.”

That’s as much of a ‘yes’ as one will get in the language of apathetic Qiu Lin.

“Good because I have your leotard in my backpack,” Hash grins giggling when Qiu flicks her forehead lightly. “What? I had to be prepared just in case you said ‘yeah’, otherwise we’d be late!”

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so,” Qiu rolls their eyes but Hash can see amusement swimming in them. Sees their lips quirk into a playful smirk and how light and airy their movements are. It’s a shame people like Vianca and Serenity don’t get to see this side of them but you can’t help relishing in how you’re one of the coveted few that do. “You’re not slick.”

Hash bats their eyelashes adoringly, “I know not to what you are referring.”

“Mhmm,” Qiu hums in disbelief but unbothered as they are, they let it go. If they truly hated it, after all, Qiu would have let you know expeditiously. Pretty as a rose Qiu may be, they have their thorns. They never seem to brandish them against Hash, however. Any pushback they have are small pricks, soft. This isn’t anything that has them pressed. “But the next time you decide to beat me into going to ballet practice, I demand compensation.”

“Is my charming personality not enough?” Hash gasps, clutching their chest in imagined pain.

“It is most of the time, but I like to shake things up from time to time,” Qiu chuckles.

Hash isn’t sure if it’s the joy they got them to smile that has them flushed or the comment. Probably both. It’s just them joking around, Hash reminds themself. Just a joke. Nothing serious. “Well what will satisfy you, Mx. Qiu Lin? Your humble servant will provide the goods tomorrow.”

“Mom’s making dumplings tomorrow and is forcing me and Dad to help,” Qiu sighs painfully. Hash’s mouth waters at just the thought of it. Dumplings are a long but rewarding affair in the Lin household. “You’re suffering with me.”

“That isn’t even a punishment,” Hash smirks, moving a stray lock of dirty blonde hair from their vision.

Qiu smirks in return, closing their eyes in satisfaction, “glad to know you’ll be there then.”

i was really trying to keep in mind the hash lore they developed from their playthrough of the ol2 demo and our discord chats fjnfkjsdnf. things get a bit angsty TmT. still homies with tamarack but because tam might be leaving, there's a bit of distance between them and they've gotten real close to qiu because of the insurance their not going anywhere. i wanted to play with that concept with a mixture of the day 3 prompts with crossing our verses together and hash looking back on the memories

[deificdeceit-a2]

Me: I'll make a muse list later

Also me: anyways here's a list of muses I plan/ would like to add at some point

Genshin: Alhaitham, Tartaglia, Dottore, Layla - tho if you're interested in seeing me write others let me know

Nu Carnival: Olivine, Kuya, Quincy

MDZS: Jiang Cheng

Splatoon: Shiver

Cookie Run: Almond Cookie, Espresso Cookie

Persona 5: Akira aka P5 protagonist

Spy x Family: Loid Forger

League: Jinx, Rakan, Xayah - Star Guardian Specifically, Arcane Jinx perhaps. Other Star Guardians I am familiar with and enjoy might be added.

Avas Demon: Ava Ire

Ocs: Rohan: Police detective based in a futuristic setting, Desmond: God of Death, Anthony: Vampire

[leviathiane]

HEADS UP LADS, MORE KILLUGON TOMORROW AT 3

[starburstgalexies]

I honestly think I am writing the most boring fic but fuck it, morbin' time

[exopelagic]

once again facing unstoppable force (anxiety-driven need to finish my work) vs immovable object (brain doesn’t wanna do anything but think abt little gay people)