#land of windmills | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

historia-vitae-magistras · 1 year

Note

How do the rest of the fam react when Matthew basically loses it after the whole nedcan breakup-kiku drama? I know you wrote a oneshot where Alfred gives him a puppy which was super cute! But I wonder if it freaks them all out because Matthew doesn’t usually draw attention to his suffering??

Ooooh, good question, thank you. So I've gone over like 15 different iterations of the windmill expanded universe, and I'm just using this ask as a brain dump now so buckle in folks, this got long. But the way it happened, without anyone falling out of love so much as priorities shifting and readjusting as time passes. That created a situation where no one's at fault, its not like anyone's committing adultery, but differences in age, experience, and psychology made the fallout very uneven.

So as a Pacific Nation, Zee saw it coming a thousand miles away. Mai's schedule was opening up, and there was chatter amongst the East Asian democracies from the late 80s onwards that, oh, that pointy tulip-headed fucker is in our airports a lot. Kiku has dairy in the kitchen a lot more than he used to. There's yet another new statue to some Dutch fuck in a square in Tokyo. He and Mai aren't meeting up as nearly as much as they used to. So she's sitting on Jack's back deck drinking a beer, going, "Fuck, mate, Mattie's going to be even more depressed than usual." And even Jack, who typically pays far less attention to politics, much less any other anglo's sex life, is wrangling a gator out from under the floorboards and nodding sagely in agreement because even he's fucking noticed.

But then three, four, and five years pass, and things have yet to explode. Matt is so consumed with depression and internal problems that he doesn't realize how much Jan's withdrawn until it's too late, and the not-breakup. He never fell out of love, but when it comes to where Jan wants to spend his time, it's not with Matt. And at some point, that discussion happens, and Matt's absolutely blindsided. The boy who saw Francis and then Alfred leaving him coming a thousand miles away and adjusted halfway decently because he had time to prepare is just bashed over the head with the new status quo. And he doesn't know why. Jan has never sat down and discussed what he did in the far east. Everything Matt knows, he knows second-hand, in the abstract.

So he's showing up at Arthur's in a state even his father is like, "oooh shit" and Matt just kind of lays down and doesn't get back up. Arthur doesn't know what to do with him except bring him a cup of tea and give him an awkward pat. They have a very difficult conversation about Jan and Kiku that's absolutely humiliating for Matt because how could he not know these things? But yeah, Matt just kind of goes down like a dead log and lays there cuddling the cat until he's practically growing mushrooms. Profoundly unwell. Arthur can't do shit to fix it, so he goes and collects Matt's things from Jan like he's restocking the British Museum because he has to fucking something. He gets... rather protective of Matt. He throws out Francis when he starts making pithy comments about how Frenchman doesn't take this sort of thing lying down; they take it on all fours making vigorous love to a third party.

Alfred shows up when he looks for Matt to fix his headspace again and can't find him. He and Arthur got into it because they always get into it at least a little bit, and they're suddenly silent because they realize Matt's just gotten up, hefted the cat under one arm and left the room and gone to lie down in his actual bedroom rather than intervene. And he always intervenes. His prime biological directive is to keep the peace, and he just says fuck it, you're loud; I'm going to go be depressed in another room. Alfred has a blue screen of death. He doesn't understand why Kiku fucking Jan would make any difference; he has his harem of part-time partners. He doesn't know what to fucking do. The head shrinking and emotional support is Matt's fucking job. He gives Matt a solid pat on the shoulder and tells Matt, "I love you, dude, feel better." And fucks off back to North America.

Not long after that, Matt's deep-seated embarrassment about his existence overrides the depresso long enough to eat a solid meal and book himself a flight home. But he's not back for even a month before he's lost his fucking marbles and gone feral in the woods again. And it's not a good time of the year for it. Alfred ends up picking him up from a rural ER somewhere and doesn't know what the fuck to do with a baby brother who can't get his shit together, so he shovels some anti-worm meds and a rabies shot into Matt and puts him back on a plane to England. Calling up their father like "Jan and he were your idea. You broke it; you fix it!"

Arthur does what he hates most in the world and calls Alasdair. He'd rather call in an air strike on his house than call Alasdair for help, but father's favourite knife is fucking broken, and he can't fix it, and if anyone might be able to, it's Alasdair. And lord, even if he can't do much, he does get Matt on Vitamin D and an antidepressant. And he and Arthur practically force Matt out of bed and make him start going for walks and eating more than twice a week. It's all kicked in enough that when Jan sends him some vaguely guilty tulips, Matt hurls the entire thing against the wall, and starts swearing and screaming and throwing shit; Arthur breathes a sigh of relief and starts in Jan, too because oh thank god, Matt's finally releasing an emotion! He gets better pretty rapidly after that because the pressure eases up.

And then when he finally goes home, Alfred impulse purchases the pupper.

#fuck me but that did get long #the ask box || probis pateo #Alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies #Alasdair || my heart's in the highlands #Arthur || stone set in the silver sea #Jan || God made Earth the Dutch made Holland #Jack || a land of summer skies #Matthew || my country is winter #Zee || ahakoa he iti he pounamu #Alasdair and Matt || is mig amharc le dicheall #Arthur and the children || bilge rat and his bouncing baby bilge rats #Alfred and Matt || lonely boys with the longest borders #the great windmill debacle of 1994 #Ideas || i should write this someday #Matt and Ferality || 80% uninhabited 100% uninhibited #Jan and Matt || the bells of liberation echo into eternity

96 notes · View notes

thedaily-beer · 20 days

Text

Pure Project Angels Landing Hazy IPA (Picked up at Windmill Farms). A 3 of 4. Smells wonderful with a huge dose of pungent tropical and stone fruit atop a quite light and not-all-that-murky body. Quite refreshing and enjoyable, but doesn't particularly stand out among the many greats in this style.

#pure project #pure #angels landing #hazy ipa #murky ipa #ipa #india pale ale #beer #windmill farms #3 #san diego

7 notes · View notes

sdimbour · 1 year

Photo

#bonjour #photooftheday #places I visited last year #windmill and #fullmoon 🙂 #benesse #landes #nouvelleaquitaine #sudouest #france . . . . . . #monument #beauty #serenity #art #moment #shotbyme #shotoniphone #outofthephone #iosphotography #mobiography #reponsesphoto #so_photo #bnw #bnwphotography #bnw_rose #bnw_greatshots #blackandwhite #noiretblanc #streetphotography #storyofthestreet (à Benesse-Lès-Dax, Aquitaine, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn6KEEZIySS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

44 notes · View notes

deathbars · 1 month

Text

I wish I could personally dismember every single person in utah that decided it was A-ok to paint fucking ugly white letters across the faces of every mountain next to a college

Like deserve to be genuinely drawn and quartered I have to see this dogshit every day from across the goddamn valley

#i kind of hate white people #like this is the BYU Y a giant fucking letter for the number 1 most racist man to ever live on this shit earth #sprayed on stolen land #genuinely anyone that complains about the 'eyesore' of windmills should solve this first

3 notes · View notes

burnsoregonphotoblog · 1 year

Text

The Gap Ranch - June, 2011

Civilian Conservation Corp Camp Location in Harney County Oregon

The windmill was filled with rats.

#civilian conservation corps #bureau of land management #ccc #windmill #harneycounty #oregon #eastern oregon #the great pnw #the old west #oregonoutback #pnw #oregon outback #burns oregon #the high desert #the pacific northwest

6 notes · View notes

clovercrafted · 2 years

Text

Lower Llamatown 🦙

Fr. My brother breaking his coal ore, the farms and The Spire!

#minecraft #mineblr #minecraft bedrock #minecraft build #Minecraft inspo #not doing a tag list for this one bc I’ve shown my base before and the windmill #first time seeing my brothers mega spire tho #we’ve only just finished clearing the land but the beacon lives there tbh #we don’t use it unless one of us needs to spend a long time in the abyss #which is the deepslate mine

43 notes · View notes

baccan0pe · 1 year

Text

#my old coworker one time tried 2 say well we've all heard feel good inc too much and i immediately was like nah man that song still fucks #theres a reason that song is their most popular and i refuse to be that bitch to deny myself a good song in order to prove im a real fan #lmfao #WINDMILL WINDMILL FOR THE LAND #TURN FOREVER HAND IN HAND #im going nuts its fine

1 note · View note

loveofastarvingdog · 2 years

Text

why the fuck would i say that

#timothy's txts.#tw swearing #ITS ABOUT WINDMILLS AND ENDLESS ROADS AND WAITING FOR A BLOW THAT NEVER LANDS I GUESS #tw caps #peach fic

1 note · View note

apricops · 3 months

Text

So, the thing about Don Quixote.

The thing about Don Quixote is that he tilts at windmills - tilts in the archaic sense of ‘charge at with a lance,’ because it’s the story of a guy who read so much chivalric romance that he lost his mind and started larping as a knight-errant. He was, if you’ll pardon the phrasing, chivalrybrained.

The thing about Don Quixote is, sometimes people take it as this story of whimsical and bravely misguided individualism or ‘being yourself’ or whatever, and they’re wrong. If it took place in the modern day, Don Quixote would absolutely be the story of a trust fund kid who blew his inheritance being a gacha whale until his internet got cut off so now he wanders around insisting that people refer to him as ‘Gudako.’

But the real thing about Don Quixote is that it was published in the early 1600s, and the thing about the 1600s is that Europe was one big tire fire. This is because 1600s Europe was still organized around feudalism (or ‘vassalage and manorialism’ if ya nasty), which assumed that land (and the peasants attached to it) were the only source of wealth. And that had worked just fine (well, ‘just fine,’ it was still feudalism) for a long time, because Europe had been a relative backwater with little in the way of urbanization or large-scale trade.

That was no longer true for Europe in the 1600s. The combination of urban development, technological advances, and brutal Spanish colonialism meant that land was no longer the sole source of wealth. Sudden there was a new class of business-savvy, investment-minded upwardly-mobile commoners, and another new class of downwardly-mobile gentry who simply couldn’t compete in this new fast-paced economy. Cervantes saw this process with his own eyes.

One of the symbols of this new age was the windmill, a complicated piece of engineering that was expensive to build but would then produce profits indefinitely - in other words, a windmill was capital.

The thing about Don Quixote is, when he tilts at windmills, he has correctly identified his nemesis.

#don quixote #effortpost

16K notes · View notes

silentsenior09 · 5 months

Text

youtube

Time to pick up those elusive Skill Points from Spyro 2 Ripto's Rage/Gateway to Glimmer.

0 notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.2K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #1

“Oh, come on,” the guy coaxed, voice wheedling and a little slurred.

You didn’t really know him, a friend of a friend's cousin who was visiting from out of town but he’d been cute enough to entertain five beers ago. He’d grown sloppier now, a little leery, his hand around your wrist as he udder you towards the dock that overlooked Lover’s Lake.

You’d dug your heels in, smiling through your teeth as you shook your head and tried not to spill the cheap wine Robin had brought down the front of your shirt. The small beach that was hidden in a cove was surrounded by trees, green in the summer, full and making the crescent moon strip of land perfect for a bonfire and for some drinking.

There were small crowds of people all over the sandy patch, sitting on blankets and cheap camping chairs, familiar faces lit by the small fire, people you didn’t know as well lingering between, bare feet on the edge of the shoreline.

You’d came with Eddie, riding in the front seat of his van with a rucksack full of corner store liquor on your lap, the smell of weed coming off strong from the pocket inside his leather jacket.

“A night full of potential clients, sweetheart, please,” he’d pleaded with you, brown button eyes wide. “The Jacksons have their cousins over from the backass of Georgia, they’ll pay for the rest of our summer if I show them the good shit.”

So you’d agreed, albeit grudgingly, letting your best friend haul you off your sofa and to the get together that you didn’t really want to go to. But Robin was there, and Nancy too, a few people you hadn’t seen since senior year, back for the summer to visit their folks and well - it wasn't all bad.

Then the evening faded into night and the lavender skies turned inky, the same shade as the lake water. And when people got a little looser, whisky and bud light warming their veins, they laughed as they stripped down to mismatched underwear and dove off the dock, splashing and shrieking in water you couldn’t see the bottom of and god—

You’d, grimaced, turning away from the shoreline and sticking close to Eddie, the boy’s arm always brushing your own even when he was busy dealing, twenties fisted in his hand as he passed over baggies to a twenty something girl you’d never seen before.

But then that guy found you, relatively sober and sweet until he wasn’t, sloppy with his arm around your neck, breath smelling like smoke and beer and he was pulling you towards the people in the water, telling you it was all part of the fun. You’d protested immediately, intensely, eyes wide as the water came closer and your feet hit the wooden planks of the dock.

Between the gaps, you could see black, dark water rippling, the moon overhead glinting white off the tips of the current. Eddie hadn’t noticed you were gone until the stranger had dragged you half way down the decking. Your wrist burned from how tight he held it, how hard you tried to twist it from his grasp.

“Hey— hey!” Eddie had barked out, loud and brash and aggressive enough to make a lot of people around him startle. He broke free from the circle that had gathered around him, lips set in a snarl and determination in his eyes. You knew fine well that when Eddie got his hands on this guy, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her fucking go—”

But Eddie couldn’t reach you in time, not when his boots dug too deep into the sand and there were too many people to push out of the way. The guy laughed at a joke you weren’t a part of and then he pushed.

Your arms swung wildly, windmilling as gravity took over, your balance gone and you were too near the edge of the dock to do anything about it. Your hands grabbed at the air, fingertips just brushing your new acquaintances shirt and his grinning face and beer blurred eyes were the last thing you saw before you back hit the water.

It was as dark underneath the surface of the lake as it was above it, an icy shock despite how warm the day had been, how the heat still lingered in the night. You gasped, immediately inhaling, murky water filling your mouth and throat and you kicked, hoping that the direction your hands were clawing in was up.

But nothing happened and your body didn’t move.

On the beach, people were murmuring, too drunk to consider the consequences, too stoned to fly into action. Besides, only seconds had passed. Bubbles were floating in the spot you’d gone under, ripples evidence of the fact that you’d once been there. Eddie was sweating, shoving at people as he ripped off his leather jacket and prepared to vault himself onto the water after you but someone at the bottom of the deck beat him to it.

Steve Harrington had dropped his beer at the first sign of the commotion, his part in the conversation with Jonathan Byers and his friend from California dying off as he turned to watch a guy he didn’t know drag you down the dock. The stranger had been laughing but you hadn’t, and before he could say something, Steve only had a second to look at the absolute horror on your face before you were forced backwards and into the lake.

He was on his feet immediately, facing back up the dock to where you’d disappeared from, watching wildly for signs of you returning to the surface. And then Eddie was yelling at him, pushing past some underage kids from out of town, half of his jacket hanging from his shoulders and he was yelling.

“Steve! Steve, she can’t fuckin’ swim, man—”

If Eddie finished the sentence or said anything else, Steve didn’t hear it. He launched himself off of the side, hitting the cold water with a splash he didn’t hear. Water filled his ears and fuck, he could barely see. But somewhere a little below him there was a flash of white from your shirt that had tangled itself up around your neck, your arms flailing wildly as you tried your damn hardest to kick up the way.

Steve had grabbed your arm, your panic making you slip before he curled his fingers around your wrist and then you were being hauled against him, your back to his chest as he moved with a confidence you could never imagine for yourself. You’d been under for a minute, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but Steve had your head breaking the surface of the lake in seconds. You were gasping and coughing, your fingernails tattooing half moon lines in Steve’s forearm as you held onto him, fear gripping you as hard as you did him.

You thought you’d heard his voice, a low murmur in your ear that was fuzzy from the water lodged there, from the buzz and clamour that had then awoken on the beach as the music stopped and people were gathered by the shoreline.

Eddie had been knee deep in the water, readily meeting you and Steve as the boy swam closer with you, and once your feet hit the sandy bottom, you lurched forward, hands held out to grab Eddie’s waiting ones.

Steve’s were on your back, keeping you upright and steady until he saw that Eddie had you. You and Steve were both dripping and Eddie was swearing, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, unsure whether to rush you to his van first or hunt down the creep that had put you in danger in the first place.

But Nancy was rushing forward with a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders and taking in your chattering teeth and panicked stare, the vice-like grip you had around Eddie’s fingers. “He’s gone,” she said to the boy. “He ran off when he saw Steve dive in. Just get her home, Eddie.”

Steve Harrington had ended up in the front bench with you in Eddie’s van, your shivering frame sandwiched between both boy’s and no one said anything until you all got back to Eddie’s trailer.

You hadn’t said anything as you’d headed for a hot shower, your wet clothes slapping on the bathroom tiles as you had stripped, slimy weeds and grains of sand stuck to your cold skin and your hands were still shaking as you twisted the squeaky handle to turn the water up hotter still.

And when Eddie was ripping his room apart for dry clothes for you and Steve to change into, his eyes watery with anger, his throat tight with rage, Steve had been leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his damp chest.

“We’ll get him,” he’d said quietly, just in case you could hear above the spluttering of the old pipes. “We’ll find out who he was and— and we’ll deal with him and then I’m gonna teach her how to swim, alright?”

Eddie nodded, movements sharp and jerky and he handed Steve a pair of black sweatpants and an old Metallica shirt.

“Alright?” Steve had repeated, chin ducked to make Eddie meet his gaze. He had been so serious. “I’m gonna give her lessons. This won’t happen again.”

The sky was still half pink as you biked down the empty sidewalk.

A blue-lilac colour, softer than you’d usually witness due to the early morning hour. The sun was still low, the town still asleep, the watch on your wrist telling you the seven am was still to come. Your bike chain whirred softly, brakes squeaking as you slowed by the chain link fence.

Hawkins community pool was sun bleached and well loved, the old bunting that draped over the water barely red and blue, the shutters for the food stand still rolled down and locked. The aquamarine slide was now more white and it looked like it would give you an infection if your skin was to snag on one of the exposed bolts. But the gate was open, only just, and you sucked in a deep breath as you let your bike lean against the wall.

Chlorine filled your nose as you walked in, the generator humming and the pool filter trickling, the sun loungers empty and still stacked against the changing rooms. Despite your early wake up call, the air was already warm, a humid kind of heat that Indiana summers brought, sticky and sweet smelling, like someone had left a jug of peach tea on their porch all day.

The tiles that surrounded the pool were wet, recently hosed down and cleaned, and your sneakers slapped noisily as you walked towards the waters edge. You didn’t go too close, not at all, grimacing at the bright blue rectangle like it would force you in itself. It seemed somehow more menacing when it was still, a glasslike surface reflecting the cotton candy sky above it, no splashing and screaming kids to fill its depths.

Then a boy appeared - no, more man than boy - from the staff building.

He had red shorts on, the fabric sitting above his knees and an old white shirt that you assumed must’ve once said “lifeguard.” He was barefoot and tanned, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and he didn’t even notice you at first, too busy hanging a net back onto the wall.

Steve Harrington was pretty and tall and he had really good hair. He was quieter than when you’d know him in high school, softer looking than he’d once been. But you didn’t really know him and he didn’t really know you. But he was friends with Eddie and you were friends with Eddie, so somehow, someway, that meant you were kind of, almost friends with him too.

Except you weren’t and you had no idea why you’d agreed to this.

“You can change in there.”

You hadn’t expected his voice, so you startled, arms wrapping tighter around your body and crushing the small rucksack that housed your suit and towel. You frowned at the idea, because changing meant one step closer to going into the water and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do that yet.

So you said nothing.

Steve just watched you from across the pool, brows raised. And then he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like “suit yourself,” before he threw his sunglasses onto a plastic chair and tugged his shirt over his head.

You’d barely gotten a chance to really look at the quick flash of tanned, bare skin he exposed before he dove into the water, barely causing a ripple. You were slack jawed as you watched him move seamlessly below the surface, his body a pretty shade of blue as his muscles flexed, strong back and broad shoulders stretching as he swam.

When he reappeared, much closer to you, Steve braced his forearms on the edge of the pool and dragged a hand through his wet hair, strands of it plastered to his forehead, water clinging to his lashes.

You didn’t know where to look.

“You’re not going to learn much if you don’t take your clothes off.”

Despite the way his words warmed you, skin heating up the same way the morning was, you scowled. You didn’t want to be here. Not at the pool, not around water, not with Steve Harrington and certainly not at seven in the morning on a Saturday.

And now you were standing under the morning sun and the same boy that saved you from the lake was squinting up at you from the pool below and you were only really here because Eddie had begged you.

It had been a whole week and you could still taste lake water on the back of your tongue.

“Changing rooms are over there,” Steve motioned to the building behind you with a tilt of his head.

You tried not to look at him, or the water, when you nodded tightly, dragging yourself off to the ladies section. And when you came back out, the sun had risen just a little more and Steve was still in the pool, floating easily on his back as he used his arms to move slowly around the water. The rays were glinting off of the water and him, toned shoulders and soft stomach glittering with water droplets and suddenly the pool seemed an even scarier place to be.

The old swimsuit you’d managed to pull on was a little on the tight side, all black and supposed to be modest if the too small size hasn’t been cutting into the swells of your ass and chest. It had been a good few years since you’d had reason to put it on, and even then, you hadn’t gone near water. A beach day on the Fourth of July with enough space between you and the ocean that you hadn’t even minded the sand too much.

So you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, trying to hide the expanse of skin there, your knees pressed together and you looked downright mournful about your current predicament. If Steve hadn’t remembered the fear in your eyes that night in the lake as you scrambled for him under the water, he would’ve cracked a joke or two.

Instead, he swam over to you cautiously, fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swiped his wet hair from his forehead. “Hey,” he began gently. The town still hadn’t woken up yet, not really. It was just Steve’s voice and the hum of the pool filter, some cicadas buzzing in a bush behind the far side of the fence. “Nothing bad is going to happen, alright? Not here.”

You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, eyes wide and lips drawn into a tight line. You didn’t move an inch. And it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, not really. You were exactly friends but Steve was close with Eddie and if Eddie trusted him— well. He got an automatic pass from you too.

Eddie didn’t trust a whole lot of people.

But the problem wasn’t Steve. It was most definitely the rectangle full of blue water, shimmering and pretty as it was, it looked deep, the slope of it going downdowndown and Steve’s body was distorted under the ripples, his legs looking broken and mangled, the surface lapping way too high across his shoulders and neck.

Your body felt like lead, a dead weight ready to sink to the pool floor, legs unable to push yourself back up.

You took a step back.

“Okay,” Steve sighed and he tried really hard to not sound impatient. The day had barely begun and he’d make a promise to Eddie, one he really didn’t want to break. “We’ll take it back a little, yeah? Come over here.”

You watched as he pulled himself out of the pool with an impressively low amount of effort. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched up and he swung a leg onto the tiles before standing, water dripping off of him, cool and splashing your toes. He made a point of not looking at your and all your bare skin as he walked around the edge of the pool, right towards the back of the lot where there was a set of stairs that led into the shallow end.

He didn’t look over his shoulder to check if you were following and you only hesitated for a second or two before you did. And when he reached the top of the steps, he waited for you and held out his hand, brows raised expectantly.

You stared back.

The water didn’t look as scary here, but not by a whole bunch. It was lighter blue, the white tiles on the bottom of the pool about more visible and the numbers that were flaking and painted on the side of the wall said the depth was only two and a half feet.

You could drown in less, the voice in your head told you. It sounded a lot like your mom.

So you kept your arms crossed for a little while longer, teeth gnawing unkindly at your bottom lip. Steve just waited, hand extended palm up and after a minute had passed, he took one step into the pool, standing ankle deep in the water on the top stair. He caught your eye then, smiling in what he hope was a reassuring way.

“D’you trust me?” He asked, eyes squinting in the bright sun. There was a mole on his cheek that disappeared into the lines of his skin when he smiled. “S’okay if you don’t yet, but, I’m a lifeguard here, so like, legally? I can’t let you die.”

You surprised both yourself and the boy when you snorted unexpectedly, a sharp sound of amusement that you used a hand to cover up. But it seemed to encourage Steve, ‘cause he positively beamed at you, his hand wiggling, vying for your own.

“C’mon, I promise I won’t let you go,” he swore. He leaned further forward, his fingers close enough to brush the softness of your stomach, if he so pleased. He didn’t. “We’ll start nice and easy today, alright?”

It felt momentous, when you slid your hand into his. He was still warm despite his pool damp skin, like the sun lived inside his bones. He grinned, victorious, nodding encouragingly when you moved to the edge of the steps.

“We’ll do them one at a time, alright?” Steve moved to stand in front of you, his other hand catching your free one until he was guiding you closer and closer to the water, walking himself backwards with every step you took forward. You flinched when your foot hit the first step, the water warmer than you’d anticipated, brushing up just past your ankle.

You had two feet in the pool and two hands in Steve Harrington’s and it felt like the entire world was about to implode on you.

“There you go,” Steve murmured, warmth and a little hum of pride in his voice. “See? S’not bad, right? I’ve still got you.” So you took another step and another and suddenly the water was lapping at your knees. You froze, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers and your wide eyes found his, all too aware of the way you were very much in the pool now.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s thumbs rubbed over the back of your knuckles, the skin there burning from holding him so tightly. “Listen. Do you trust me?”

There was no joke that followed the question this time. His eyes were earnest and warm, serious as they looked at you, searching your face for any signs that you were going to flee. It took you a few seconds, swallowing dryly and taking a deep, staggering breath before you nodded. You did, you did trust him, and that was as surprising as you being in the pool.

“Yeah,” you told Steve, voice a little weak and hoarse. “Yeah, I trust you.”

He squeezed your fingers and his smile was gentle, an achingly kind thing that made your eyes water in the corners and Steve let you stand on that middle step for a little while longer. “Good,” he finally said and his voice was as soft as yours had been. You tried not to look at the way the chain around his throat caught the sunlight, the silver turning golden, just like his skin. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

You nodded, feverish and your movements jagged and you tore your eyes from Steve to look at your bare feet on the steps, your toes waving under the ripples, longer and skinnier and then fatter and wider. The sight made you dizzy, stomach tumbling a little but even still, you wished you’d had the forethought to paint your toenails something pretty.

“Two more steps, alright?”

Steve’s encouragement broke your senseless wanderings and you nodded again, words caught in your throat and he was leading you forward, hands wrapped around your own and he grinned when you took another step down, the water hitting your upper thighs. It was cooler as you went deeper, a stark contrast to the warm, sticky air above it and your skin prickled, mouth falling in a quiet gasp. Another step, happening almost too fast for you to overthink it, the water at your hips and making you swear as you rose onto your toes almost instinctively.

Steve laughed, not unkindly, as you moved closer to him, unthinking as your hands left his in favour of clinging to his upper arms. It felt safer like that, anchoring yourself to his solid frame, but there was so much bare skin involved and not a lot of space left between you both as you held on for dear life. His fingertips brushed the sides of your waist before he must’ve thought better of it, cheeks burning before his hands cupped your elbows and he took a little step back so your chest didn’t touch his.

“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You did it, yeah? That’s it. You’re in.”

Steve was grinning and you tried to smile too, trying to feel proud of your little accomplishment but the rest of the pool was stretched out behind Steve’s shoulder and the water there was so much more blue, cerulean leading into indigo until you couldn’t see the bottom anymore.

Steve must’ve noticed cause he shook his head, the hand cupping your elbow smoothing up your arm until he squeezed, water dripping from his palms and coasting down your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. That’s for another day. We’re staying here, alright?”

You grimaced at the idea of ‘another day,’ but his words still didn’t ease you. You licked at your lips, dots of chlorine on them and despite how stupid you felt, you asked anyway. “What if— what if l, like, float over that way? Accidentally.”

Steve smiled like he couldn’t help himself, laughter in his eyes and a grin that he quickly tamed. “We’re not gonna catch any waves in here, this isn’t Maui,” he was still smiling, teasing, just a little. But sensing your growing worry, he continued. “And if that had to happen - which it won’t - I’ll come and get you.”

You stared at him, heartbeat in your throat and so many other questions on your tongue. They died there, fizzing into nothing as Steve held your gaze, a silent promise in his brown eyes. You’d never noticed how long and thick his lashes were, still wet and spiky from when he’d been swimming as you changed.

Maybe there was doubt in your eyes, or maybe Steve just felt the need to reiterate his statement, but when he said once more, “I’ll come get you, just like last time,” you really did believe him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington smut

1K notes · View notes

plentyoffandoms · 8 months

Text

Love at First Sight

Straw Hat Pirates x reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous TV Shows

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

I have never seen the anime or read the manga. I never heard of this until the show, but I love the show & have started to watch the anime.

Warnings: none. Maybe too much fluff?

Gifs & photos do not belong to me. Luffy @vinlandsky, Nami @goodsirs, Sanji @pedritosdarling, Zoro @valkubusqueen, Usopp @rrandomtthings

Summary: The first time they saw you with Sanji, Luffy, Nami, Zoro, & Usopp.

Luffy was looking around The Baratie with a massive smile on his face, like usual. This isn't the first time he has been here, nor will it be his last.

Him and the rest of his crew were waiting for their order to be taken as they talked amongst themselves.

"Hello, welcome to The Baratie, may I start with your drink orders, please?" He looked up at the sound of your voice, and the moment he saw you, he couldn't talk.

For the first time in his life, Monkey D. Luffy was speechless.

You took Zoro's order and worked your way around the table, and when your kind smile and eyes finally landed on Luffy, he opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a squeak.

Usopp nudged him in the ribs, but nothing was coming out. "He will take a glass of milk." Nami spoke up for him.

"Thank you. I will be right back with your drinks and then I will take your order." Luffy watched as you walked away,

The moment you were out of ear shot, Nami and Usopp started to ask what was wrong with him, but Sanji spoke up.

"Good eye, Luffy." He said your name, and the whole crew watched as Luffy said your name to himself

"I am going to marry them!" Luffy proclaimed.

"Oh, for the love of," Nami complained, putting her head in her hands. Zoro rolled his eyes and sighed.

Sanji just smirked, and Usopp clapped Luffy on the shoulder, congratulating him on his upcoming marriage.

Nami was lagging behind the rest of the crew as they listened to Luffy talk about where they were, which is where he is from Foosha Village.

There were only so many windmills one could see, and they were all starting to look the same, but according to Luffy, each one had something different about them.

Nami was growing bored and was ready to say something to end this boring tour when they finally stopped in front of, no it can't be? Who knew this place had anything exciting?

A bar

Partys Bar was the name. "Are you guys thirsty? Hungry? Makino is an old friend of mine. Isn't that right, Makino?" Luffy said as he strolled into the bar, with the rest of us behind him.

"Luffy, is that you?" I am guessing Makino is the woman coming from around the counter to hug our Captain.

"And who are they?" She asked, but someone came out of the backroom, that caught my eye.

"This is my crew." Luffy said proudly. He said each of our names, and we acknowledged the woman.

"Makino?" We were interrupted by the same person that came from the back.

"Yes?" She said their name, and I repeated the name in my head a few times to hopefully remember it.

"Luffy, let me introduce you to my cousin." The three of them got talking as Usopp got distracted by a group of small children that wanted to hear our tales.

So Sanji, Zoro, and I were left to entertain ourselves. I listened to the two of them bicker over the same old crap, but my focus slowly went onto the Marino's cousin.

I didn't notice that I was being watched by the two men until I heard a whistle that brought me out of my trance. I saw them walk towards our table.

"Excuse me. I hope you do not mind if you can answer a few questions our good friend Nami has of this place." I wanted to slap the look off of Sanji's smug face.

"No, I do not mind. What is your question?" They turned their focus on me. "Have a seat. The two of us were about to go and see what we need to stock up before we leave. Come now Zoro." I could just kill the two of them for leaving me here alone.

I expected the cousin to turn around and walk away when I didn't say anything, but they didn't. They sat down and waited for me to talk.

"Luffy has never mentioned you before. Are you from here?"

◆

The two of us talked until I had to leave, but they gave me their number. I walked onto the ship, and Sanji and Zoro looked at me. One with a smile across his face, the other one looking bored, but I knew he was interested in what happened.

"So, are they the love your life?" Sanji questioned.

"I just met them." I said as I walked past the two.

"That wasn't a no, Nami." Zoro said.

"Who touched my sauce?" I yelled as I saw that someone added a bit of salt to my sauce. I was looking right at Zoro.

"Why would I touch your sauce?" He asked me. I was growing angrier, knowing he had something to do with it.

"I know you did it." I sneered. This was the third time this had happened this week, and I was growing tired of him not admitting it.

"For the last time, I didn't touch your sauce. Why don't you ask the new person? I see them coming in and out of your kitchen."

"New person?" I was confused. I looked around and didn't see anyone.

"Yes, new person. Nami knew them from her days when she was with Arlong. They used to team up."

"Are you talking about me?" A voice came from the left of me, and I jumped as no one was there.

"Who said that?"

"I did." There was a small burst of light that had me covering my eyes, and to my suprise, there was a person standing there.

"You must be Sanji. Luffy has been talking about you nonstop. Oh, where are my manners." They introduced themselves.

"You ruined my sauce." I wasn't going to let up on this.

"Did I? Or did I make it better?"

"You added too much salt."

"Add some garlic, maybe a smidge of sugar, and it will balance it out." They said to me.

"Maybe add oregano." Zoro said from his spot. The two of us looked at him and said at the exact same time, "Oregano is for savages."

I looked over at our new crew member, seeing them now for the first time. "Maybe you didn't add too much salt. Please come and show me what you were making."

They walked towards my kitchen, and as I walked past Zoro, I heard him say, "You are welcome."

I stopped and was going to say something when my new sous chef just looked at me and smiled, making me forget all about the swordsman.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the one person in the crowd. For some strange reason they have caught my attention.

"I see that our teacher had caught your attention." Nami said as she sat down next to me. We were celebrating our massive win against Arlong.

"Teacher?" I turned my head slightly towards her.

"Yes, they teach the younger kids." She went on to tell me their name.

"I can see that. The young ones haven't left them alone." I watched as another child ran up to them to show what looked to be a rock.

"Why don't you go say hi?"

"We will be leaving soon. There is no need to get too acquainted with the locals." I told her.

"Okay then." Nami left me alone at that point, my attention now drawn towards whatever the hell Luffy was doing.

I am now in line once more, begrudgingly getting a second helping of Sanji's food, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I placed my free hand on a sword.

"Zoro." I relaxed slightly and turned around to see what Nami wanted, but not to my suprise, there was, with the Village teacher.

"I would like for you to meet Roronoa Zoro. Zoro, please meet." Nami was interrupted as the teacher told me their name.

Nami left the two of us alone after that. We walked a bit away from the prying eyes of the rest of the villagers.

"I have always heard stories about you, Zoro, the great pirate hunter. I never imagined you becoming a pirate yourself."

"Neither did, but Luffy has this way about him."

"Yes, I can see that. He seems like a peculiar fellow, but nice none the less."

"Peculiar?" I asked.

"Yes, I have never seen someone smile so much. You must understand that our village has been under the control and fear of Arlong for so long, that many of us, including myself, forgot to know what happiness is."

"I hope you can now find happiness now that you are free from their terror." I was very serious about that.

"Maybe just for this night, I will." They said as they stepped closer to me. I took a step closer to them.

◆

I didn't know this until much later, but Nami was standing to the side, her sister handing her some Berry.

The first time I saw them was at The Baratie. I was outside at the bar, enjoying the sea air while I drank my drink that tasted a heck of a lot like candy.

I bumped into them as I was trying to keep myself steady on the rocking ship. Or was it just me who was unsteady? Never mind.

"I am so very sorry." I said as I tried to steady them before they fell over.

"That is all right, Usopp." They know my name?

"You know my name?" I asked them as I looked into their eyes, and it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. It was like they were staring into my soul.

"Of course. I was here when you and your crew saved us. I have always wanted to thank the man who pulled me out of the water that day. I do not swim all that well."

"And here I am, almost knocking you into the water tonight. Please forgive me."

"All is forgiven, may I buy you a drink? As a thank you. I was hoping you would come back so I could thank you properly."

"I will have what you are having." I hope I sounded not so drunk.

"I am just having some water. It is a bit too warm to be drinking I find."

"Water is fine with me. It is about time I sober up."

I also didn't want to have a massive hangover in the morning and throw up like I did last time. That was horrible.

I heard them call out two waters, and we took a seat not far from where the bar was.

"I never asked. What is your name?" My mother would have been appalled at the fact that I never asked for their name.

They gave me their name, and then we started to ask questions to get to know one another.

I tried not to lie, but some of the tales kept spilling out of me. "No, it was you who took down Arlong? Well, another class of water is needed."

We talked all night until the sun came up. "Oh, look at the time. I must be going." They stood up and I did as well.

"Will I see you again?" I asked them.

"Probably sooner than you think Usopp." And they walked off, leaving me confused.

I walked back to the ship, almost in a fog.

"Usopp! They you are. I want you to meet the new member of our crew." Luffy called out once he saw me.

"Hello, Usopp."

"So this is what you meant?" I asked.

"Of course."

Luffy looked between the two of us, "I have no idea what is going on, but we must leave."

I chuckled as he turned to go and talk to Sanji about something.

"You coming Usopp?" They said as they walked towards the rest of the crew.

"Of course."

1K notes · View notes

iberiancadre · 1 month

Text

this is so funny

like okay you have a wiki, some diy information. what are you going to do to actually change the infrastructure of society while defending against the attacks of the superstructure. do you actfually think that a "revolutionary social movement" can be built and effectively act with a wiki and a mastodon instance. is consumerism the actual problem to combat? or is it just a symptom? How is the IWW going to build a solarpunk world, what will you do with people who aren't in a workplace, or in other countries with already well established unions? how is food not bombs, a charity organization, going to build solarpunk?

So you have the details for a windmill but where will you build it? land is an expensive commodity almost everywhere in the world, and there is no land that isn't owned but accessible. How will you get the materials and workforce to build it? how will you get by while it's in construction? what infrastructure will you use to sustain a farm? or are you just rebranding colonial homesteading fantasies as environmental and punk?

Also a wiki and other online resources doesn't mean a concept such as cyberpunk, whose most popular depiction is an edited almond milk commercial, is happening. this is all unserious escapism. you're not doing anything that catholic charity is already doing. this is what happens when you reject every actually successful struggle against capitalism

496 notes · View notes

ilyuu · 11 months

Text

a confession.

words born from within the depths of feelings, the heart a tug to a path too intimate, too unfamiliar to a few as it navigates. at the tip of their tongue rests a string of words that can shift ties alone (or he confesses to you.)

ft. alhaitham, dainsleif, diluc, scaramouche & xiao.

warnings : bits of angst (dainsleif, diluc & scaramouche), fluff, literally fluff, confessions (surprise!) alhaitham is a menace, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n : hi 😀

alhaitham.

“i love you.”

sway of leaves, tips touching the glass. soot dusting the shelves, worn covers and pages left open. muted shades of a home a comfort. in the living room, wherein tinted shards of glass swallows the light in colors, it paints a myriad of shades onto you. and yet, it all fades into the background, a scenery, as the book in your hand weighs a bit lighter than it was a second ago; his words to the air weigh heavier than the ones in hand.

“…huh?”

his eyes turn to his side, on you, taking in any and every feature of yours to read any reaction - he didn’t need to look , with how close the two of you are, he could feel the warmth radiating from you. the quiet that you once enjoyed seemed to stretch on for what felt like an eternity.

“wait, wait. like as in like or…”

“is there another definition i should be aware of?”

the book in his hand slowly closes to a shut, a small bookmark tucked in the pages. the words printed onto there, words of one’s perspective out of the many fragments of the whole, falls for naught in this moment in particular.

“i love you, [name]. what i feel for you goes beyond the confinement of someone i see as, no less, a companion. i enjoy your company more than i expect to, i find myself thinking of you throughout points of the day despite of no reason to, among others, your voice had always stood out—”

“alhaitham.”

“—as well as wondering for your well-being whenever i have yet to see you for the day. on that note, when we do occasionally cross paths, i’d find myself in a state of tranqu—”

“stop.”

he does. the light hides little, and he sees how you try to hide yourself in your hands, not letting him see a bit of the look you’re wearing right now. but it’s obvious. if anything, it might as well be an open secret between the two of you with how his gaze subtly softens. those eyes you’ve always been drawn to, since the moment you’ve seen him, sees you and alone.

“…i love you too.”

“i thought as much.”

“would it kill you to be a bit more romantic?”

he hums. no later, he leans in and presses his lips against your temple. the surge of happiness that followed that small peck only made you to cave into yourself further. in some distant part, you’ve heard him say, “is that alright with you?”

dainsleif.

red petals swaying, akin to windmills. a draft of wind drifting in the air. a quiet aria that floats aloft aimlessly (one neither you or him can catch.) from the tower, though careful, you found yourself sitting on a jagged edge of the walkway, ivy and moss slithering among the cracks of the walls. your fingers felt the rough surface for a few moments, taking it all in alongside with him. the cold in the air isn’t the same as him - a familiar touch, there was, to him with all the time you’ve been with him.

and too much familiarity has you lulled into a state of comfort and unconsciousness. he’s noticed that as he sees you away fro and to, toppling. his hand hovers over your head, lightly pressing it against his shoulder as some sort of stability - or a pillow, whichever you prefer. there’s a tension in his fingers, nearly trembling, as it touches you, as if not used to this (and he isn’t.)

it burns. his fingertips burns.

“…there is no need for me to stay,” he murmurs, words faint in the name of the wind, “and i am aware of that as much as you are. there is nothing that roots me to this land - no relation, no matter of emotional connection… other than you.”

“time again, i am reminded how i live beyond the constant flow of time. something fleeting is but a dream. and you’ve given me a many; these moments with you… feels akin to a dream. none that asks for a endless life, a demise - simply a life with you.”

“i… i love you.” he looks at you. the air brushes your hair (in a way he yearns to as of late.)

“i love you more than i should.”

diluc.

soft shafts of sunlight rousing awake at the dot of the horizon. mahogany handrails bearing years of use. a pair of birds chirping, a string of song. the rails held you still as you stare at the skies, a melting harmony of rose and gold, always something of a sight that stole your breath away. it felt even better, framed by his presence, waves of his warmth wafting over to you. the slight wisps of wind tousled his hair, more of a mess than it already was, as he soaks in the touch of dawn once more (and yet again.)

and underneath your eyes does he slowly lose his composure, bit by bit. do

“you know,” your voice lifted the soft silence in the air, “i like watching these types of sunrises, i’ll say that… but any other reason you woke me up this early and dragged me here?”

“ah…” he shifts his gaze from yours, all curious, all seeing. he coughs into his fist, trying to clear his throat of all the tension. “i suppose my methods were a bit… unorthodox. in fact, yes, there is.”

“oh?” you lift your head up, just enough to look at him. you didn’t notice how close the two of you were together, and so you nearly touched the tip of his nose with his. “oh—”

he stays silent. his skin, as pale as it is, flared into a shade as red as his hair is, to the point that you don’t know where he starts or ends. he opens his mouth and closes it, the amount of times he did lost on you, and ended up biting his lip. there’s a bit of hesitation in every little thing he did, a stiffness, as he blows out a puff of air.

“hey, diluc?” you tilt your head, and as you stare at him with those eyes of yours, he feels as though it truly was the last straw. “do you need anyt—”

“i love you.”

your breath caught in your throat as much as his did. once again, a silence hangs, and yet, a quiet question and an unsaid answer remains in the air. he’s avoiding any contact with you, rather content in just staring at his fingers, biting into the wood of the handrails to the point of leaving marks.

“i… i— wait, what?”

he winces. so do you and you try again. “i mean… diluc, can you say that again? please?”

the seconds stretch on. it didn’t seem as though he’ll say anything, alright with the way his confession coalesces with the sun-kissed vines and barrels. and then he did. “i love you, [name]. always had, always will.”

“if it’s not too much for me to say, then… i’ve always appreciated how you stood beside, even when i’ve, on multiple occasions, attempted to push you away for your own good. a light that never yielded - the one thing that didn’t change.”

“and i’ve admired you for that. soon, that admiration turned into adoration with every single thing you do, and it had only grown from there.”

his cheeks cooled down a bit, yet still held some red in it. “of course, this is simply how i feel. whether you share this or n—”

“i do.”

he spun his head to you, and met eyes that held the same, if not more, adoration as his. the epitome of your feelings in your words as you said, “i love you too, diluc. always had, always will.”

scaramouche.

nature of the night surrounding the two of you. waves ebbing and flowing, foam rolling in. reflection of a moon rippled in the eye. he digs his hands into the sand, feeling the particles lost on his skin and, if anything, to numb the air nipping at him. he feels your eyes on his, eerily similar to the sea - calm, silent. patient. he folds his fingers, nails biting into the palm of his hands to etch in the feelings, thoughts, that kept a home in him a bit longer than he’d like.

“you know,” he says, “never in all the years have i existed did i think there was room for something futile.”

“i’m starting to wonder what isn’t futile in your eyes.”

“not the point.”

“agree to disagree.” there’s a smile in your voice - not that he has to see it, he just hears it and it’s enough for him. “but i’ll shut up. go on.”

“as i was saying,” he sighs, as if to let go of that air trapped in his throat, “you’re well aware of all the connections i’ve made, and that it all didn’t end as some happily ever after either like those stories.”

“again and again did the world tell me that i’m not worth the love of a family, a friend, let alone… someone more.”

from the corner of his eye, he sees you perk up at those last few words. like a small dollop of fire swallowed in the dark - a hope. and he looks to you, seeing you in your whole as you did just a few moments ago. he’d look at you in a particular way, maybe, as he watch your eyes widen just slightly, and that small light in you flickers to life.

you didn’t give yourself that hope though, you refuse to. this is him you’re talking about. the fact that you’re even here right now next to him because he asked you to was a miracle in and of itself. you’re as close to him as you’re alright with, and didn’t wish to cross this line that was so far away when you’ve met him - you didn’t want to feel far from him.

he opens his mouth, and with a voice dripping with hesitation, he says, “and you defy the world simply by being with me. everything you say, think, do - it’s as if you’re against fate itself, the very fate that ties us all together, whether we like it or not. that’s why i like you.”

his next words drips with a tenderness you seldom hear from him (up to this point.) “that’s why i love you.”

xiao.

lanterns lit, dotted across like stars. a bittersweet scent of incense clings to him. blades of grass crunching beneath any shift of movement. away from the life of the last few hours, the sun just shy of sleeping, the greetings of lofty shadows followed the two of you along the path to a place familiar, a step closer to home, if anything. since then, with little to o space within you and him, the times your hands grazed sending a static each and every time (the same with the slight blush touching his cheeks.)

“[name].”

a soft call of your name tugged you out of your thoughts. when you set your gaze on him, he stares back to you - feelings that you can’t put a name to coalescing. you see him open and close his mouth many times, the words at the tip of his tongue, and simply not taking form the way he wants them to. it’s cute, if anything, and as it continues, you couldn’t help the small smile that came to your lips.

there’s a small voice in the back of your head that tells you what, but it quickly quietens when his fingers brushes the back of your hand yet again. this time, he twines with yours. the cold presence of his glove sends a shiver to you - a rather pleasant one. from that, it’s as if he’s found the words.

“i… i am fond of you.” his eyes flits to yours. “more than i have intended. than i realized. at some point, in some time, your presence, your very existence, became… irreplaceable. something that i come to look forward to. and… the thought of not seeing you, even if for a day…”

his hand tightens its hold on yours.

“i am aware of how selfish this request is, and that i am not worthy for someone like you - that there is someone else that is capable of cherishing you - but… if you’ll let me have this, at the very least…”

you feel the pad of his thumb brush the back of your hand in slow, simple circles, whether to soothe you or himself. who knows? only that the touch sent a smile to you. you carried his hand to yours, and his questioning eyes widened just slightly when he feels your lips graze his knuckles in a feather-light touch.

“and i’m fond of you as well, xiao.”

he huffs, and turns his head the other way. the few streaks of sunlight held him in such softness, and coalesced along with the shade of his irises in a warm tandem.

general taglist (open!) : @zuyoo, @starz222, @haliyamori, @kazumist, @tartaglia-apologist, @mikacynth, @angelkazusstuff, @doumalove, @kpop-and-otome, @emo-mess, @mx-kaedehara . . .

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #diluc x reader #diluc x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you

1K notes · View notes

donelywell · 5 months

Text

This is just a summary of how the story goes, kinda like bullet points I guess. If the time ever comes that this eventually gets written as an actual story, It would be a lot more detailed than this. Also, I don't own Sonic Unleashed or think the story is bad (I actually really like it), this is just how a strange person (me) would handle the story in their own fan universe thing.

DEATH EGG October 1

Tails helps Sonic get up to the Death Egg.

Sonic storms the Death Egg, going Super.

Super Sonic follows Eggman, he begs for mercy, but it’s a trick.

Super Sonic gets the Chaos Emeralds ripped right out of him,

Eggman fires a beam filled with the Chaos Energy to the planet, cracking it into 7 pieces, releasing a Giant Monster, but it fades away.

Sonic turns into the Werehog, only barely hearing Eggman yell something about the Gaia Manuscripts through all of the intense pain that he’s going through, and is shot out of the Death Egg with the now drained Chaos Emeralds. Tails, on the Tornado-1, sees this happen, and chases after him.

APOTOS October 1

Sonic crashes into Apotos. He notices that there is a small being passed out near him, so he tries waking him up to see if he’s okay, this ends up scaring the kid for some reason.

Sonic realizes he can’t talk for some reason, his throat feels off and his teeth feel weird, so he uses sign language to try asking if the kid is okay. The kid doesn’t understand, but assumes (probably not the smartest move) that he means no harm because his eyes seem genuinely worried, plus he’s slowly moving as though afraid to scare off the kid again.

The kid calls him ‘Mr. Monster Guy’, which makes Sonic realize he’s not his usual self. This mildly freaks him out, but he tries to act calm to not freak the small creature out. Using his claws, he writes in the dirt, which luckily the kid can read, and realizes the creature has amnesia. Sonic worries that he might have caused it, and vows to help him get his memories back. (Little Fella joined the party!)

Sonic looks at the rising sun, looking at it as something to lean on to stay optimistic, and turns back into his regular self. He finds his shoes and now drained Chaos Emeralds lying on the ground, and with a lot more pep in his step, holds onto the kid and races off to the closest city to hopefully get someone who recognizes the little creature (and see if Tails landed there after he launched Sonic into space).

>Windmill Isle Day Act 1 (plays as it normally would)

Sonic questions everything that just happened, the Chaos Emeralds being drained, the strange new form he took not even 15 minutes prior, what this ‘Gaia Manuscript’ is that Eggman was talking about; but he’s interrupted by the kid getting sidetracked from the memory treasure hunt with an ice cream stand that holds the famous Chocolate Chipped Cream Sundae Supreme! After a little begging, Sonic ends up paying for 2 cones. Sonic ends up calling the creature ‘Chip’ as a temporary nickname until they get his memories back, Chip absolutely loves it.

While they go around enjoying their ice cream and asking questions about Chip's past, Sonic ends up being given someone's pair of gloves.

Meanwhile, Tails is searching for Sonic, he’s surprised that his communicator is broken, or at least not responding, because it should have been able to survive a fall that high. He manages to get a rough estimate as to where he might be judging by where he fell, but Sonic could really be anywhere on this section of the planet with his speed.

Tails is highly concerned for Sonic’s health and safety since the last reading from the communicator reported that his heart rate has spiked dramatically right before he saw him fall from the sky.

>Windmill Isle Day Act 2 (You play as Tails as he flies around town, looking for Sonic)

As he still searches for Sonic as it’s heading into sunset, Tails gets a call from Knuckles telling him that something happened to the Master Emerald and that Angel Island has landed.

Tails tells him that he’s looking for Sonic at the moment, but promises to come over as soon as he can.

After the call is over, Tails realizes how long it’s been since he last ate and spots a local Gyro Food Truck. He ordered a bunch for Sonic to eat later if he spots him.

As the sun is setting, Sonic and Chip still haven’t found anyone who recognizes Chip. Sonic gives Chip a pep talk when he sees that the kid’s down in the dumps, suggesting that there are lots of areas around the world, maybe he’s just not from here. Right when Chip feels reassured, Sonic transforms back into the Werehog. Both are stunned and Sonic realizes that he changes into the form every night (Chip needs a moment to come to the same conclusion).

Chip immediately notices that the Sundae Stand Owner is acting strange, and asks him what’s wrong, even suggesting he eats some ice cream. Sonic shoves his now too-big-shoes into his quills until daytime. Chip accidentally drops the ice cream, but Sonic manages to catch it by stretching his arm out. Both are extremely surprised by this, kinda freaking Sonic out with how strange it feels but he thinks it’s kinda cool. Chip really likes the stripes.

Meanwhile, Tails finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He’s surrounded by these strange enemies and forgot his weapon at the Tornado-1. He would normally spin dash into them, but judging by the sharp claws and spikes on them, his fur would not be enough defense from that hurting him more than it hurting them.

He could have also flown away from danger, but he’s currently trying to protect a lost little girl he found surrounded by said enemies. He knows he doesn’t have enough time to drop his defenses and fly away while carrying her before they attack, so he just has to try keeping the already miniscule amount of ground they have.

While not looking, an enemy gets a lucky hit on him, causing him to yell out in pain. Despite the pain, he refuses to stand down and keeps defending the little girl.

With his new sensitive hearing, Sonic hears Tails’ yell. Instincts kick in, realizing his little brother is hurt, and runs after the sound. Chip, with his not as sensitive hearing, flies after Sonic in confusion.

>Windmill Isle Night Act 1 (plays as it normally would)

Once he makes it to Tails’ location, all of the enemies focus on the actual threat, Sonic. The little girl uses this to run back home, and Tails hides behind a wall holding his wound from bleeding too much.

The enemies are piling onto Sonic, so he unleashes all of the energy he’s built up (and some instincts he didn’t know he had), somehow becoming more powerful for a period of time, yet feeling a little high off the energy practically pouring out of each hit he makes in this unleashed state.

Sonic Emotions Handling Scale:

Normal form- Can hide it frustratingly well and has normal emotions,

Werehog form- His face and new Wolf-like instincts make it hard for him to hide it but he still tends to try to push it off if he can + negative emotions are a lot more powerful + he’s a little clingy,

Unleashed Boost- Can’t hide his emotions to save him and they are extremely powerful + easily goes into a downward spiral in emotions + somehow even more clingy + he still is super emotional when getting out of his Unleashed state and will do things without thinking.

After the fight is over, Tails calls out to Sonic, he knew from the moment Sonic stepped into the battle that it was him, Sonic practically raised him for almost half of his life, how could he not tell? Sonic however, getting out of his Unleashed Boost daze, realizes just how dangerous and brutal he could be in this form. So once he hears Tails’ call, he books it in fear of possibly being able to harm Tails unintentionally.

Chip finally makes it over to the aftermath, he and Tails do a quick introduction (like saying, you know Sonic? You're the brother he was talking about? yep, let's go!), and book it towards Sonic. Tails is surprised that he’s actually able to catch up to Sonic, even on all fours, Tails’ namesakes spinning can beat him in a race now.

Sonic manages to hide in a barrel, in abject terror of what he is. Tails and Chip quickly catch up and sit near the barrel, trying to calm Sonic down. Letting him know that no matter what he looks like, he’ll always be by his side and his little brother. He proceeds to go on about how looking different doesn’t make you a monster or evil, having his tails sway as he talks, as a subtle reminder to Sonic that he went through that fear of being different too.

Sonic slowly uncovers his muzzle to use his hands to sign that he’s a monster who could hurt Tails. Tails is surprised by how open Sonic is being so open about his fears, he normally tries hiding it as best he can so others don’t worry for him (a bad trait that Tails is extremely relieved didn’t seem to carry over when he’s in this form). Tails gives a sad look and recounts all of the times that Tails has accidentally hurt Sonic due to not being used to touch (and the several months it took him to learn how to retract his claws), but Sonic stuck around every time and didn’t blame Tails for it at all.

Tails suggests that he runs a vitals check on Sonic back at the Tornado-1, to see if he can find out what’s causing this form. (Tails joined the party!)

That, and the smell of several Gyros in Tails’ bag, seem to be enough to make Sonic slowly walk out of the barrel on all fours. Tails notices that Sonic’s stomach is rumbling and uses this to walk him over to the Tornado-1 without having his mind drift into negativity (wow, that’s odd, Sonic’s almost never openly negative). Chip finds out Gyros are really good, almost eating 3 before they make it back to the biplane.

After eating, Sonic stands up (and is actively trying to ignore the stomach churning feeling of being so incredibly huge compared to his little brother), to sign that he can’t retract his claws or speak properly. Tails tries to make the best of it and says that Sonic doesn’t need to touch anything for the check up.

As Tails is cleaning up and patching his wound with the first aid kit he has stored in the Tornado-1 (he wanted to immediately do the check up on Sonic, but the werehog refused to even start that until Tails took care of his cut first), Chip is in awe that Tails can understand what Sonic means just by looking at his hands. He really wants to learn how to do that, so he can talk to Sonic at any time of the day. Tails tries to recall that he might still have some flashcards he’d give to any new friends Sonic made when he couldn’t speak.

Now tired and worn out from a long day of running around town, eating tasty food, fighting enemies, and making discoveries, Tails and Sonic sit on a brick fence next to the Tornado-1 to run a Vitals Check.

It’s a symphony of yawns as Chips quickly falls asleep on Sonic’s leg. Tails, being exhausted, unconsciously rests his tails on Sonic's lap (a deep sign of trust) and leans on him as a pillow (he realizes the sheer amount of muscle behind the fur, theorizing that the expanse of his arms might have stretched the communicator too far, thus breaking it), like how he sometimes would do that when the brothers ride a train late at night after a long adventure.

Sonic was in a half asleep state himself, but once he felt Tails’ tails rest on his lap, he perked right up. He’s surprised Tails can trust him so much even in this form, he thought this whole time that Tails was just bluffing it so Sonic would feel better. He might still be bluffing… using that 300 IQ brain to use this token trust sign to make Sonic relax. But Sonic quickly has exhaustion fog his brain again, letting this track of negative thoughts fizzle out at the moment.

With a yawn, Tails murmured that Sonic’s Vitals all seem normal, if not for a slightly higher than average Chaos Energy reading, but it’s not enough for it to change his form.

Tails is officially out, Sonic’s delicately soft fur and heart beat lulling him to sleep. Sonic, still not wanting to possibly harm anyone by accident, gently slips Chip off his leg, landing on his enormous paw (that’s another thing he feels off about, why are his hands so big?), and rests him on his head as he curls up as best he can without jostling Tails much. He tries his best to both find a comfortable position and keep his dangerous hands away from anyone. It’s a rough night, but they all got through it.

In the morning, Sonic transforms back to normal, with Tails handing him some spare gloves and a back-up communicator from the Tornado-1. After enjoying some Tarts for breakfast, they head out to Angel Island. Sonic accidentally falls asleep on the wing while Chip studies his flashcards in the back seat.

Angel Island

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the werehog #tails the fox #miles tails prower #chip the light gaia #sonic unleashed #Sonic Unleashed: World Reimagined #Apotos #unbreakable bond #Uahh!! The first area is done!#The whole reason I'm doing this is mainly because I want to throw brotherly fluff into unleashed >:)

469 notes · View notes