Send âa moment of weaknessâ and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter. { tw violence, possible noncon/dubcon implications, nsfw }
20. My muse is sick and continues daily routine even though they seem on the verge of passing out.
Pounding and drilling. It felt as though his mind was being scraped against a whetstone repeatedly. Vision blurred as he willed his head to stay up, trying to focus on the task at hand. There was still so much to do...from feeding the horses to refining his report for the commander if he were to stop now, surely it would be an inconvenience to them. No, he would not stop so easily. To be defeated by something like a headache, preposterous.
Trembling hands fumbled, causing the parchment to fall from his hands for the nth time. In with his frustrations also grew his throbbing head. Bleary misty mocha orbs squinted at the words he wrote. Was this even right? If his father were here, the man would surely berate him on such sloppy, banal work.Â
Good for nothing second-rate performance that even a beggar could do better. Thoughts began in a downward spiral as the voice of Yasutomi Masayoshi echoed in his ears. His hard work, all of this equated to nothing. It was embarrassing. No, perhaps he would come back to this later. It would be better to focus on something else to clear his muddled mind.
As the investigator stood, he felt the world quake beneath his feet in tandem with the spinning room. Hand against the shoji door, Saisuke managed to steady himself before heading out towards the stables.Â
Laboured breathing expelled from his chapped lips. Why was it that he was so tired already? It was shameful to be in such a state.Â