#fun fact: this is roughly only halfway

[m4delin]

WIP - Nothing more than codes and digits (let's add to it)

Since it's new years eve, I want to share what was supposed to be my third title for the Treebark Title Swap 2024, but I ran out of time for finishing it and since then it's been sitting in my WIP document. It's my own title I stole so I didn't feel bad for not finishing it.

I aim to actually finish it, but wanted to share what I got so far since I do like what I've written. Just don't mind all the notes in the brackets, you're getting everything here xD

Words: 6.7k Characters: Ren, Martyn, Doc, Tango Tags: datastream defender lore, C.H.E.S.T is evil, it's taking place in the future (at minimum 80 years after pirates smp ended), androids, memorials, brief mention of assissted suicide, pre-relationship treebark, spring is martyn, despite what martyn believes it is the real world, very much utopia

Summary: Having been one of the earliest people "rescued" from the datastream, Ren has helped a lot of people to get used to their new bodies and the new sociaty. Some has trusted him more, some has trusted him less, and Ren can't fault anyone for that.

Spring is proving to be the most distrustful person Ren has met yet.

A whistle from the kettle echoes through the apartment, and it brings Ren out of the drowsiness that always clings to him when he starts up for the day, just enough for him to yawn and stretch before detangling himself from the blanket.

It’s a slow start, really, it takes a good 15 minutes before Ren is finally on his feet, body awake enough to not move in slow motion.

He probably should ask Doc to take a look at him, it’s been a while since the last check up.

He files the thought to his to-do-later list, and instead focuses on his normal morning routine. Remove the still whistling kettle from the stove, take out a couple of bags of nutrients for his plants and mix it with the still hot but cooling water, throw the binder and tablet into his work bag, ignore any paper that doesn’t stick to the binder, and walk around to water the plants with the now cool mixture.

A small orb appears in the corner of Ren’s eyes, and as he looks at it, it turns into a small holographic image of Xisuma, but instead of his voice coming through, it’s a generic robotic voice that reads up the message.

“I’ll be running late, can you drop by the coffee shop on your way in? Thanks.”

Ren chuckles, and shakes his head at the message.

“Reply,” he says and the holograph changes into himself with a speech bubble beside it. “Sure thing, dude, I’ll get the usual. Don’t fall asleep on the bus again. End reply.”

He watches as the speech bubble gets folded into a letter before disappearing together with the holograph. No matter how many years have passed, he still finds it fascinating to watch the small avatars come and go.

Shaking his head, Ren focuses back on his task. He waters the final plant and hurries back to his bedroom to get properly dressed, since he’ll not only take a detour, but also open the museum apparently, he needed to get a move on.

He’s still buttoning up his shirt as he walks out of the apartment, work bag hanging over his shoulder, and the door locks behind him with a soft click.

[small transition for traveling? ]

The coffee shop is busy when Ren arrives, and he flicks an ear backwards in annoyance. Of course he succeeds in hitting rush hour for the morning travelers. Not that he has much of a choice, he realizes, with Xisuma being so late with his request. Normally the director would know way earlier if he was about to run late, but Ren guesses that today must’ve been an emergency. Or he had stayed up way too late again and slept in.

As Ren joins the queue, he decides that that’s what happened.

Surprisingly the line goes by fast and it doesn’t take long until the cashier is looking at Ren expectantly.

“One Cream Coffee and one Radiator to go, please,” he says as he lifts up his wrist, a small section of it lightning up. The cashier hums as they tap on the screen in front of them before lifting the other hand, holding a small square thing above Ren’s wrist. It beeps once and the cashier brings back the device.

“5 minutes,” they say, and waves Ren to move out of the queue. Ren does as instructed and watches the people move around him as he’s waiting for the drinks. [description of humans and androids? Ren receives the drinks, one blue, mentions of him passing breakfast at home?]

The walk from the coffee shop to the museum isn’t a long one, the perks of working in the city center, but it’s long enough for Ren to feel like he properly got to stretch his legs out and having sipped enough of his drink for a third to be gone.

It’s later than it’s supposed to be when Ren finally reaches the employer door to the museum, a showing of his wrists makes the door beep and open, letting him inside.

The building is silent at this time in the morning, even with Ren’s enhanced hearing. Or it usually is, but now one of his ears twist as he hears a high pitched sound from a light somewhere close by, no doubt about to go out during the day. Which he would have to replace.

Ren sighs heavily, and heads towards Xisuma’s office to drop off his coffee in the heat preserving container, before he goes to his own while downing his the rest of his drink.

The door to his office unlocks when he puts his hand on the handle, and opens without a complaint, and Ren is greeted by the sight of papers covering the floor.

Right. The research. He’d forgotten about that, honestly.

Luckily it’s only printouts of different texts that he was trying to decipher, so he’s not exactly careful as he walks over to his desk to put down his back and the now empty cup. He would start cleaning the room up normally, but since Xisuma was running late, and it would just be the two of them today, so not only did he have to change that light bulb, but also prepare the museum to be opened.

Ren isn’t sure if he’s happy or not that he can’t get headaches anymore.

He ignores the chaos that is his office, even adding a little bit more to the pile on the floor by pushing down a couple of more papers from the desk, and heads back out to start preparing the building.

He’s barely closed the door behind him when the small white orb appears in the corner of his eyes again, this time shifting into a goat when he gives it his attention. Instead of it starting to read up a message, the robotic voice let him know it’s an incoming call.

“Answer,” Ren says, and the goat shifts into the upper half of Doc.

“Good morning, Ren,” Doc says, one hand raised in a greeting.

Ren gives him a big smile. “Doc, my dude! Was thinking of you this morning! My body seems slower than usual in the mornings, think you can take a look?” He continues on his way towards the ground keeper’s office, Doc’s hologram floating beside him.

Doc blinks, and looks down into something in his hands. “Perhaps next month then. Been a couple of years since your last check up.” Then he shakes his head. “But that’s not why I called. Can you come by the lab next monday?”

It makes Ren pause in his step, and he looks properly at Doc again. “Have you found-”

“Yes,” Doc cuts him off, “another prisoner. Tango and I are setting up a body for them, and it should be done by the weekend, but I know you like to have your weekends off.”

Ren continues his path to the ground keeper’s office, but with quicker steps than before. “I want to be there when you wake them up, you know this, dude. Got any name on them?”

“No.”

The heavy sigh that accompanies the words makes Ren’s artificial heart sink as he steps into his destination. “Oh.”

“The disk was named though.” And… That’s unusual.

Ren pushes the buttons in the office to activate the cleaning robots, and doesn’t pay enough attention to the screens to see if they’ve been turned on properly. “That makes it sound like it’s not numbered,” he says as he steps out of the room, and continues down the hallway.

“It was titled Spring. Does it ring a bell?” Doc asks, and Ren wishes that it did.

“Hasn’t Tango looked through the police reports on the whole ordeal?”

“He has, and found nothing. But you’re the history expert on C.H.E.S.T, so figured it was worth asking,” Doc says, waving a clipboard around.

Ren frowns, and his ears lay down flat against his skull, and gets behind the front desk. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’ve never heard of something called Spring before. I’ll make a deep dive though, see if I can find anything.”

“Appreciated, Ren. I’ll send a message when it’s decided on when we’ll wake them up. Bye,” Doc says, and Ren says his own goodbye before the hologram of Doc turns into a white dot again.

Well. At least now Ren knows what he will spend his free time on til monday arrives.

With thoughts focused on the upcoming research, Ren hurries through the preparation of the museum’s opening for the day.

-----

[small scene that transition into the lab]

It’s easy to find the room where Doc and Tango would wake the prisoner[another name?] up, Ren has been here plenty of times already, and Ren clutches his bag closer to him. [add that he’s carrying a bag of drinks with him]

He’s honestly excited, it’s been a few years since they last discovered a disk that wasn’t broken.

Ren pushes the door leading to the viewing room open, and pauses as he only sees Tango in the room, sitting in front of the big window, and looking through it.

Tango glances away from the window, and smiles when Ren meets his eyes. “Ren! Good to see you, come on in!”

Ren makes sure to close the door behind him, glancing through the window. It’s a view of a spacious room, a wardrobe in one corner, a tv on the wall next to it, and on the opposite is a bed with a table beside it. A bed currently occupied by a generic looking android body that shouldn’t be up and moving, but obviously is. Beside the bed is Doc sitting with a tablet in his hands.

“I thought you would wait to wake them up until I arrived,” Ren says with a pout, ears pressed down against his skull.

Tango shrugs. “We planned to, but when we were preparing the body and inserted the disk, they woke themselves up,” he says, and looks back to the scene in front of them.

The android body is holding a tablet of their own, their head tilted slightly as they’re listening to what Doc is saying.

“That’s unusual. How many years has it been since that happened?” Ren asks as he opens up the paperbag with the drinks. He takes the smallest one out, and hands it to Tango.

Tango takes it, pops out the straw, and takes a sip. “Not in the years I’ve been working here. I think it has happened three times now in total?”

“Four,” Ren corrects as he digs out a larger drink, and puts it on the table behind Tango. “I mean, if you’re counting this dude too.” After digging out a small package of milk and making sure there’s only two drinks left in the bag, Ren returns to Tango’s side.

Tango snorts. “Why are you asking me if you remember that?”

“Years tend to float together after a while, the amount of times it happens are easier to remember,” Ren says with a shrug, before looking towards the second door on the other side of the room. “I’ll head down, and save the poor fella from Doc’s technical ramblings,” he says as he moves towards the door.

Tango giggles behind him. “Sure, old man. Remember to ask Doc for an upgrade in your cache at the next check up!” he shouts behind Ren. Ren just shakes his head as he goes through the door, and down the stairs.

Doc’s voice comes through the moment Ren opens up the door downstairs.

“-o problem at all- oh. Hello, Ren,” Doc says as Ren walks into the room, putting the tablet down into his lap. The android turns their head with slightly narrowed eyes, and Ren gives them both his best smile.

“Hi, dudes! Everything good?” he says as he walks up to the bed. The android is still looking wary, but Ren looks at Doc as Doc nods.

“I’ve given him the rundown of his new body, including a tablet for customization requests that’s not the generic type,” he says, and taps a [tablet pen?] against his own tablet. “Now I need to check more how his fine motor control is working, to make sure everything is in order, and then I need to-”

Ren chuckles. “I’m gonna stop you right there, bud, but one step at a time, yeah? We don’t need to overload his brain right at this moment,” he says as he pats Doc on the shoulder, and gives the android another smile.

“That… would be appreciated,” the android says as he looks between the two.

“With that approval-” Ren begins as he grins at Doc, “-I’m sending you off to the break room. I’ve brought a chocolate[other drink?] to you, it’s up with Tango in the room.”

Doc nods, and gives Ren a smile. “Thank you. I’ll be back later, whenever you’re ready to learn more about how your body functions,” Doc says, and with that he raises up from the chair, and walks through the door Ren had arrived from.

Ren puts all his focus on the patient, and gives him a smile. “Apologies for just switching like this, but Doc tends to get into the technical stuff immediately, and most people find it overwhelming,” he says, and fishes up a third, blue drink from the paper bag as he walks closer to the android.

The android looks between Ren and the drink he’s holding out.

“It’s a drink called ‘Radiator’. It’s a fluid that people like you and me need to have a functioning body, and this one is made into a drink so we can mimic drinking. It’s calming for some people,” Ren explains, and watches as the android slowly takes it into his hands.

Ren gives him a smile when he does take it before he walks over to the chair Doc left, and digs out the fourth and final drink out of the paperbag. He discards the bag beside the chair, and hangs his work bag over the backrest before sitting down.

The patient is looking hesitant at the drink, and Ren knows how weird it is in the beginning, so he takes a gulp out of his own Radiator.

“You said people like us?” the android asks when Ren lowers his drink, and is now obviously glancing at Ren’s ears.

“Yep! People stuffed into an android body,” Ren says, and taps one of his ears, it flicking out of range at the touch, since it has the android’s attention. “These babies are custom made. Had human ears for a good amount of years, until Doc figured out a way to customize bodies without risking us shutting down. Real genius that man!”

The android frowns, and looks down at his drink in his lap.

“Had a tail for a while too, but let me tell you, not worth it! Not only do you have to make custom clothes, especially pants, but they wear[?] out too fast. As good as I am at repairing them myself, there’s only so many times a man has patient to repair his own pants per month,” Ren continues, chuckling at the memory. Yeah, he had to repair way too many pants.

The room falls into silence, just for a moment, as Ren looks at the android and the android is still looking at his drink. The tablet the android had been messing around with earlier is laying in his lap.

“This is a lot, I know,” Ren says with a soft voice, and the android glances up. “If you have any questions, go ahead. Kinda why I’m here, being the social dude so Doc and Tango can focus on making sure your body is functioning correctly.”

The android seems to think for a moment before he lifts up his head properly.

“The doctor said your name was Ren?”

Ren slams a hand on his forehead, and an ear flicks in annoyance. “Introduction is a thing, yes,” he says as he lets the hand fall back down into his lap, properly gripping his drink again. He gives the android a smile.

“Yeah, name’s Ren, he/him, I’m an ex-employee of C.H.E.S.T-”

The difference between normal androids and people with an android body is really fascinating if you ask Ren. Androids often just mimic expressions that humans make in certain situations, while the people have the mini[miniture? miniluscus?] expression change that androids seem incapable to mimic, despite having the same built body. And this is a perfect example of it.

Because the reaction is instantaneous.

Deep rooted fear flashes across the android’s face, as well as his body going rigid, but it’s there barely a second before the android’s face is neutral once again, although his back is much straighter than before.

It tells Ren that this person has dealt with C.H.E.S.T before.[not happy with this line, find alternatives]

Ren clears his throat, and pretends that he didn’t see it. “-I worked in the public and civilian sector, but when I started to investigate the disappearance of some of my colleagues, I ended up as one of their victims as well. They stuffed me into a digital disk, and stayed there until I got woken up by Doc. Don’t remember much of the time I spent being digital that way. Today I work for the Hermit Museum, working on preserving the memories of all of C.H.E.S.T’s victims, giving them a memorial for those we haven’t been able to find and give a new chance on life, as well as making sure that all of C.H.E.S.T’s crimes is known to the world.”

The android seems to still be on guard, and Ren doesn’t blame him. So Ren takes a sip of his drink before giving the android his best smile.

“Before I ask you your name, or any question for that matter, know that you don’t have to answer them. As much as I would love to know who you are, you’re entitled to keep any information to yourself,” he says in hopes to make the man relax just a little bit at least.

The man nods, and makes no attempt to introduce himself.

The next smile Ren gives him is softer. “Is there something I can call you the very least? Can’t call you dude or android the whole time.”

Again, the man doesn’t attempt to speak.

Ren’s shoulders slump forward a bit as his ears twist backwards. “Okay then. I’ll call you Spring until you’ve given me something else to call you,” he says, and watches how the man reacts to the name. There’s no more reaction other than him watching Ren cautiously.

“So. That’s me. Any questions?”

Spring is silent, his mouth in a thigh line, and then-

“I want to be alone.”

Ren sighs, and leans back in the chair, almost tipping it over. “Sorry dude, no can do. Until Doc and Tango have made sure your body is functioning well, and you need an identification number in order to be able to move around in society without getting, like, arrested, you need to have someone with you.”

Spring frowns at that, and stares into his lap again, drink still not touched and tablet seemingly forgotten.

And Ren knows that this feels invasive, especially when you don’t trust the ones who're supposed to look after you. But it’s a rule put in place for a very good reason.

“But,” Ren continues after a little bit of silence, “I can leave the room.”

Spring looks up, confusion written all over his face.

Ren gestures towards the window close to the ceiling, and Spring follows his hand until he sees it. And goes stiff again as he sees Tango and Doc sitting by the window, not looking into it but having their backs to it, seemingly having a conversation between the two of them.

“This room has no cameras, no microphones, no motion detectors. It’s completely soundproof. The only thing that can monitor you is if someone sits behind that glass, and we will until we’re sure your body won’t suddenly break down on you.”

Spring looks back to Ren, and Ren tries to give him a reassuring smile, but it probably ends up looking more sad than anything.

“We won’t keep this strict watch for long, tops two weeks if your body is having troubles. And after you’ve gotten your identification number, you’re free to go wherever. But we want to help you, we really do. We can get you in touch with a therapist, arrange for you to have an apartment, help you get a stable life. Just-” Ren takes a deep breath, hands clenching around his own forgotten drink, “-let us know if you don’t want life anymore. We- no, I- want to bury you in that case. You deserve a funeral, however you want it. You, and your story, deserve to be remembered.”

As excited Ren always is to meet someone new, this is the hardest part of helping them into this modern world.[?]

Offer them a chance to actually die, not simply being suspended in an empty dataspace.

It’s still better than finding out that they ended it by themselves.

Spring is giving Ren a strange look, and to be fair, it is strange to offer to bury someone. Ren doesn’t blame him for it.

“I-” Spring starts, but cuts off himself. He shakes his head and Ren tilts his head to the side, watching as Spring comes to a conclusion.

“I would like to be alone,” Spring repeats, and Ren nods. Without much further aboe[?], Ren gets up from his chair, pulling his work bag over his shoulder with his free hand, and walks over to the door.

But there he pauses, and looks over his shoulder at Spring.

“By the way. Doc and Tango has never been associated with C.H.E.S.T, neither of them was even born when that organization got busted. Even if you don’t trust me, you can trust them.” With that, Ren leaves the room.

“You good?” Tango asks when Ren gets up into the viewing room, and all Ren can do is to let out a deep sigh.

“He got real bad trauma with C.H.E.S.T,” Ren says as he sits down by a chair furthest from the window. While he can’t leave, he will at least try to respect Spring’s privacy when Doc and Tango aren't there to keep watch.

Doc hums, and both he and Tango look through the window. “Isn’t surprising. We’ll take it slow then, try to give him as much privacy as we can,” Doc says as he tips his cup back, and then frowns as he removes it from his face. “Empty,” he grumbles, and places it on the floor.

“I’ll try to get his identification number as soon as possible, should get it at the end of the week if I pull the right strings,” Tango says with a nod.

Ren tunes out his two friends as they talk and plan how to go forward this coming week.

Seems like honesty straight out of the bag wasn’t the way to go this time. But then again, it’s hard to know what to do when you don’t know who will be waking up.

With another sigh, Ren takes a big gulp of his own drink. He’ll just keep watch from a distance then, and help Doc and Tango out whenever they need. It’s not the first time they had to work like this, nor will it be the last.

But he does wish that he would be able to help Spring better than this.

---

A week and a half. That’s what it takes until everything starts to fall into place.

It takes about a week for Doc to calibrate Spring’s body to not stumble when he moves too fast, and to give Spring a general look[?]. And then they just had to wait for the identification number, which Tango pushed hard for.

Ren had visited and invited Spring out for walks whenever Doc and Tango had allowed it, and he had pretended not to see when Spring was looking around and taking in their surroundings in more than just fascination with the scenery. These walks always felt a bit bittersweet to Ren, since Spring never seemed to relax during it, nor afterwards. In all honesty, it probably had to do with Ren himself, which he doesn’t blame Spring for.

But hopefully today would be different.

Ren runs a hand through his hair, and sighs heavily. The plan for today was to take Spring to the museum, both to show him how to use public transportation and how to navigate around the money system. He hopes everything goes well.

Steeling his nerves, Ren pushes open the door to Spring’s room, and smiles at the man when he looks up.

Unlike the first time Ren saw Spring, Spring now looked like an actual human. Instead of looking like a generic android, he now had blond hair pulled into a small ponytail, blue eyes and pale skin, with a hoodie over his torso and jeans on his legs.

“Hey there, Spring!” Ren says as he walks closer to the bed where Spring is sitting, fiddling with a book. Ren gives him a smile, but per usual Spring stays silent and warily watches Ren.

“I have good news for you. Your identification number should arrive very shortly, and thus we shall venture out further than the gardens today!”

Spring raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Ren grins, and pets his shoulder bag. “We’re heading to the museum today! You need to know how to transfer money as you soon will be released from here, and it’s easier if I just show you. And it will be nice to be outside this place, yes?”

That catches Spring’s attention, and he puts down the book on the nightstand. “So… we’re going to the museum so you can show me how to pay?”

“And to show you how society works [fix this?]

Ren glances over his shoulder at Spring, who was looking everywhere but at Ren. There’s a lot to see, considering that this is the first time they’ve been so far away from the facility, so Ren is just happy that Spring is still following him and not trying to bolt the moment he could like Ren thought he would.

There’s so much Ren wants to ask the man, but he bites his tongue as he focuses his eyes forward on the street ahead of them.

Or rather, the opening of the buildings and the street which gives space to a big open area with a lot of different statues lingering about.

“The museum is just ahead,” Ren says with a grin as he speeds up just a bit. As much as he loves helping people out, he has missed the museum and working on his own projects. But he’ll get back to them soon enough, Spring just needed his identification number after all before getting released.

“That’s. A lot of statues,” Spring says, and Ren slows down to walk beside Spring instead of ahead of him. It earns Ren a sideways glance.

“Eyup! The classic ones are on the left,” Ren says as he motions in front of them. “Not easy to see from this angle, I realize. Come on, we’ll see them better when we get on the main path!” Without thinking, Ren grabs Spring’s arm in excitement to drag him with him, but stops when Spring pulls back his arm just as quickly as Ren had grabbed it.

Ren looks back at Spring who’s staring at him with a blank look, arm held close.

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I forgot myself,” Ren says, ears pressed flat backwards in embarrassment.

Spring moves his eyes from Ren to look at something behind Ren, face just as blank as before. “You’re excited for the museum?” He asks, voice carefully [blank? other word]

Ren nods, and motions towards the statue garden in an invitation to start walking again. “Yes,” he begins as Spring starts moving, and he joins Spring, “how can I not be? It’s a great workplace, I have wonderful colleagues and it gives me the best chance to just learn about history! I always love showing off what we have.”

There’s a moment of silence before Spring speaks again. “I thought you worked at the facility?” [check when ren introduces himself]

“Not really,” Ren hums, steering the two of them towards the street that runs in the middle of the statue garden. As they get closer, it becomes more obvious that there are two different sections of statues.

“I mean, I help Doc and Tango out with like. Social stuff like this. Helping people get back into society. But that doesn’t exactly happen enough to be an actual job.” Ren shakes his head. “I’m a [curator?] and researcher at [hermit museum?]. If you want we can go past my exhibition, but honestly, that might not be a good idea.”

Spring glances at Ren before looking in front of them, the two finally entering the main street leading to the museum, statues on both sides of them.

“How come?”

“[I research the damage C.H.E.S.T has done to society and its victims,” Ren says, not reminding Spring that he had already told him this when he introduced himself.]

Spring stays silent, and Ren lest him digest what he just told him, before clearing his throat, and motioning to the left.

“But, yes, the classics! They are just copies of the originals of course, but it’s nice to have something more physical to look at as the guide books tell you about them, rather than a hologram,” Ren says with a grin, and it seems to snap Spring out of his head.

Then Ren motions towards the right. “And that’s modern art. Statues. Eh, yeah, not really my department, but if we bump into Xisuma[? check how many i wrote works here] he will happily tell you all about it. There’s more modern art inside, and more history stuff too.”

Spring nods, but stays silent until they reach the doors of the museum which has been propped open to let the cool summer winds into the building.

Ren waves at the android sitting at the reception desk, who only tilt its head in acknowledgement to his presence, but it gives Spring a smile when it notices him.

“Hi, and welcome to [hermit museum]. Would you like a map, or a recommendation on where to go?” It says, voice a tad flat.

“Oh great, need to tell [groundkeeper] that they need to fix up Lucy’s voice again,” Ren says with a sigh before turning to Spring who has stopped by the desk, hand stretched out for the map that he was offered.

“You don’t need the map if you don’t want it,” Ren says as Spring grabs it, before shrugging when Spring gives him a raised eyebrow. “Again, I work here, I know this museum almost better than Xisuma, and he’s the owner of the place.”

“I think I’ll take it anyway,” Spring mumbles, and tucks it into his hoodie.

“Alright,” Ren says, one ear flicking backwards before turning back. “So, where do you want to start? It’s a big place, and I’ll show you how to interact and activate the holograms, though I’m sure Tango has already given you that lesson.”

Ren smiles as Spring looks at him, and waits patiently as Spring brings out the map to look at instead of asking Ren what places there are.

“Uh. What about here?” Spring says as he points at his map, and Ren leans over to take a look at it.

“Ah,” Ren says with a grin, “the [department]. That’ll be fun. Now! On our way!” This time he refrains from grabbing Spring, and Spring follows after a brief moment just looking at Ren. Again, Ren is very excited.

Two hours goes by, in which more visitors arrived, but it was still a far cry from being crowded. Spring had been looking at some of the holograms, but nothing had really captured his interest for long, so Ren had continued to guide him through the building in hopes that Spring would find something.

Ren is walking backwards, facing Spring, as he talks about [ämne], having entered  his guide mode.

He doesn’t keep track of where Spring’s eyes wander, so when Spring suddenly stops and fixates his gaze in one spot, it takes a moment for Ren to remember where in the building they are.

Ren slows to a stop, and glances towards the big, open archway which reveals some big plaques[?] with a lot of text and pictures on them.

The C.H.E.S.T exhibition.

Ren looks back at Spring who has not looked away from the archway, obviously having seen one of the plaques that has the words C.H.E.S.T on it.

“You want to go and take a look?” Ren says with a soft voice, and to his surprise, Spring nods and doesn’t wait for Ren to move, instead taking the lead properly for the first time this day. Ren follows and stays silent as Spring slowly walks into the exhibition, head constantly turning as if he’s trying to take in everything at once.

Spring stops at the closet plaque, and Ren slides up beside him.

“This part is mostly information about C.H.E.S.T. About who they were, their public front and shadow business, how they were able to trick the public, how it got discovered and its downfall,” Ren says, eyes staring at the C.H.E.S.T logo. Spring glances at him.

“Despite that it’s been [50 years?], there’s a lot we don’t know about this organization. I’m the main researcher on it around here, as the police stopped investigating some years ago, and other people who are researching this are doing so in other countries.” Ren cast his eyes down to the floor, trying to sort his thoughts. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Spring with all of this.

Spring turns his head around, taking in more of the room, before he looks back to the plaque in front of them. Then he reaches out to touch the button that activates the personal hologram.

Ren stays silent as Spring listens to the private hologram, and he follows him when Spring moves to the next.

They spend longer time in here than in any other exhibition. Spring stops at every plaque, and Ren lets him, ready to answer any questions Spring has. [allow ren to talk abt the lore i’ve come up with?]

But Spring doesn’t ask him anything. He simply watches and listens to the holograms, and then he moves on.

Ren doesn’t stop him until they start getting close to a smaller, but more decorated archway.

“Spring,” he says as he holds his hand up, stopping them both. Ren gives him a [soft?] look before motioning towards the archway. “I know you want to listen to the holograms but. Through that archway is the memorial. For all the victims of C.H.E.S.T. And since this will be personal for both you and me, I would like to talk about them,” he continues, bowing his head down. When he looks back up, Spring has a small frown on his face.

“You’re a C.H.E.S.T employee,” he says, and with a tone that indicates that he doesn’t think Ren should be allowed to.

“Ex-employee. And I worked in the public sector, not knowing what was going on.” Ren raises a hand to his own hand, and taps one of his ears that flicks away from the touch. “I’m as much of an android as you. I know you don’t trust me, but please. This is the way I can show these people respect. Please let me talk about them.”

Many emotions seem to cross Spring’s face, until eventually he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, he nods.

“Okay.”

Ren smiles as he straighteners his back. “Thank you,” he says, and takes a step to the side. He motions towards the archway. “Let’s begin.”

Spring takes the lead, but Ren is quick to end up walking beside him.

“These people,” Ren begins as they enter the memorial area, “are people who C.H.E.S.T have one way or another killed. Be it by mercanaries, tasked to take down who they consider enemies, or being forced into the datastream.”

It’s easy for Ren to slip into his [curator] role, and to forget why they’re here to begin with.

“[names] are some of the last victims that C.H.E.S.T caused[?] before the police and government started to crack down on them. In fact, most people here in the beginning section are later victims. Many of which were straight up killed as C.H.E.S.T tried to figure out who had betrayed them, not quite getting that there were too many people who were asking questions at this point. But there were quite a few that they sent into the datastream as well,” Ren says as he continues to slowly walk down the rows of plaques with pictures of different faces.

He stops as Martyn stops by a plaque and just looks at it.

“People who ended up in the datastream are people who we might be able to recover, as long as their data hasn’t been corrupted. Sadly it’s a too common recurrence that the data chips they reside in have been broken or rendered useless, so these are all we have left of them.” Ren looks ahead of them, eyes distant as he remembers waking up for the first time since being put in the datastream.

“Those who we’ve found to still be uncorrupted, we’ve given an android body and given a chance at life again. Most do not wish to be contacted, so please refrain from asking.”

Spring lets out a huff beside him, and Ren gives him a smile. “Apologize, there’s been a lot of people who ask to speak with them, so it just slipped out. Anyway.”

Spring shakes his head, and starts to walk down the row again, to which Ren falls in line with.

[reading up a few names?]

“As said, most people in this part were killed, and this ‘late stage’ started roughly 5 years before C.H.E.S.T was shut down,” Ren says, hands clasped behind his back. “Of course, that’s the official shut down. The police needed to hunt down underground sections for years after, but at least C.H.E.S.T didn’t have control of the public anymore.”

They cross a line on the floor, and Ren unclasps his hands and motions to the closest plaque, now sporting a different color in the background. “These people are more from the ‘middle stage’, for lack of better words, and many of them ended up in the datastream. We know this thanks to documents C.H.E.S.T kept, and we have found plenty of ‘resting chips’ as we have come to call them. Again, most of these are sadly corrupted, so a burial is all we have been able to give them.”

[more names? more walking around?]

As the room opens up [spreading?] into different paths for showing more plaques, Ren takes the lead, looking towards a wall, and slightly raised platform.

“These people,” Ren says as he comes to a halt in front of the display, “were a part of a group[name?] that tried to fight and stop C.H.E.S.T. It was created very early on, and was able to fight off C.H.E.S.T for a good amount of time, but sadly the targeted attacks became more and more intense. Too soon, many of these people disappeared.”

Ren lets his eyes trail over one picture at a time. “[name]. Viktor ‘Doc’ [name]. Martyn Littlewood. [name]. People who, at the time, just vanished to never be seen again.”

[blushk1tten]

Ok, imagine you're a guest on Chuckle Sandwich, and the topic of Ted going to every MargaritaVille and the Rainforest Cafe comes up. Then, it turns to how you and Schlatt should go to every (whatever restaurant) in the country as a challenge. At first it was a joke, but then it slowly became something you and Schlatt started planning on. And during the trip, you guys starting getting closer and closer, knowing each other more and more. Where at the point you guys are flirting, touching, kissing, and even to the point you guys have sex.

I can even imagine that during one of the hotel rooms you guys were staying at, you accidentally see Schlatt full body naked. And seeing Schlatt absolutely embarrassed about it, you show Schlatt your naked body to make things even between you two.

i’m sorry this took so long but this prompt had me frothing at the mouth. i hope you enjoy <3

"no, because i loved when you went to every margaritaville and rainforest cafe," you explained to ted as you sat sandwiched between him and schlatt on their podcast. "i've had a similar idea for a while. i want to go to at least one cat cafe in every continental state, and along the way promote some shelters for people to adopt at."

ted raised his eyebrows curiously. "really? that sounds pretty cool. maybe you should take schlatt with you, since he's a lonely cat man and all."

"ignoring the fact that having two cats does not make me a lonely cat man," schlatt shot back at ted. "that sounds like a cool idea. i know there's plenty of cats like jambo and the other guy who need adopted."

you couldn't help but laugh a bit. "maybe ted's right. you sound pretty passionate about it for a totally not lonely cat man. you could come with me, and not be so lonely."

"fine!"

with that final word from schlatt, you had accidentally and officially locked yourself into the trip with him. he began to help you research cat cafes and shelters in every state, and helped you to plan the road trip map as well. that was only the start of the two of you getting closer. on the trip, it was a whole different thing.

"let's play twenty-one questions!" you suggested after leaving the cat cafe in austin, heading for your hotel and the next one in louisiana. after all, you had a roughly eight hour drive ahead of you.

schlatt scoffed, looking over at you. "isn't that a game for teenagers tryin' t' date someone?"

"no," you protested back. "it's for people to get to know each other better! i'll go first if you're going to be a dick. what's your favorite animal other than cats?"

he paused for a minute, then admitted his answer in a gruff voice. "bearded dragons. i used t’ have one when i was younger. he was a chill dude."

"see, that's nice, and i learned something new about you," you gave him a small smile. "now you ask me a question."

"are you a virgin?"

"schlatt! i'm not answering that."

the game continued to go similarly, with you asking genuine questions to get to know schlatt, while he asked raunchier questions to poke fun at you and get under your skin. about halfway through your journey though, you gave in, and began to answer him.

"what's your biggest turn on?"

"any kind of intimate touch."

he raised his eyebrows, surprised that he finally got an answer. "intimate touch? what does that mean?"

you could feel your face grow hot as you tried to explain. "any touch from a partner of mine, even if it's casual."

"even if they, like, shake your hand?"

that eased the tension, and you burst out into laughter as you shook your head. "okay, maybe not any touch."

with each leg of the trip, the two of you learned more about each other and grew closer. about halfway through the trip though, was when things began to heat up between the two of you. it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt or use pet names with the other.

“hey, toots,” he called to you, keeping his voice quiet so he didn’t startle the cats. “look at this one. i think it likes me.”

you couldn’t but giggle from your spot on the floor, where a gaggle of cats and kittens had been swarming you for affection. throughout your trip, you had come to find that most of the cats preferred you to schlatt. some found his large stature imposing, while others just didn’t like men, so it was a special moment whenever any cats would come up to him. this time, it was an old, graying tabby, purring loudly from its spot on schlatt’s lap.

“the first time you’ve ever gotten pussy in your life, big guy?” you teased, standing up and moving to sit beside him.

“oh, fuck you,” he scoffed softly, though he looked at you with a smile. “he just knows i’m the better person out of us. look, he’s not interested in you at all.”

it was true. the cat was completely content with schlatt and paying no attention to you. meanwhile, you couldn’t help but pay attention to schlatt. with a soft smile on his face as he scratched the cat’s chin and back, he looked endearing. dare you say it, he looked handsome. you couldn’t help it when you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

schlatt stopped petting the cat instantly, looking at you with surprise in his brown eyes. then, after a moment, he spoke up. “you missed.”

this time, you could feel the surprise on your face as he leaned in again and kissed you on your lips, soft and tender. it wasn’t until the cat on schlatt’s lap meowed in displeasure at the lack of pets that you broke apart.

“i’ll— i’ll edit that out.” you stammered, glancing at the various cameras you had set up while schlatt resumed petting the cat.

“yeah,” he nodded, a light blush on his cheeks. “that sounds good.”

from that point on, flirting and pet names came with the addition of kisses. sometimes they happened on camera in the cat cafes, while other times one of you would invite the other over to their hotel room for a heated makeout session. soon enough though, the trip was coming to an end. you only had a few more cat cafes left before the road trip was over. that would mean an end to the flirting, the pet names, and the kisses that managed to steal your breath each time.

you were thinking about it forlornly as you headed to schlatt’s hotel room, hoping for a nice makeout session to cheer you up. he had actually given you the extra key, so you didn’t think twice as you swiped the card and opened his door. however, you didn’t even make it a step in before you noticed schlatt, completely nude with his bath towel in hand.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed, catching his attention as well.

the last thing you saw before turning on your heel and slamming the door was a glimpse of something massive between his thighs, heat filling your face as you ran back to your own room. you had no idea how you would address that incident, nor did you know if you wanted to. the flirting, pet names, and kissing was one thing, but seeing him naked and anything beyond that was something else.

eventually, you heard the buzz of a keycard opening up your room, though you kept your gaze firmly on the floor as you sat at the end of your bed.

“doll,” schlatt spoke up after a moment. “i’m not mad at you or anything. i gave you a keycard t’ my room so you could come whenever you wanted. i should’ve changed in the bathroom or said somethin’ when i heard the door.”

you shook your head, hoping that any embarrassment on your face was gone as you looked up. “no, jay, it’s my fault. i should’ve knocked before coming in.”

he sat down next to you on the bed. “we both could’ve done stuff differently, but hey, shit happens.”

you nodded, the wheels in your brain turning. you wanted to make it up to him somehow. then, it hit you. the best— or possibly the worst— idea that you had ever had. “i could get naked and let you see to make up for it.”

schlatt went silent for a moment, staring at you as if you had just spoken another language. “what?”

“i’m serious,” you told him. “i got to see you, so you should get to see me. then, we’ll be even.”

his throat bobbed as he swallowed. then, he nodded. “well, toots, better get to it.”

with that, you stood up and began to strip, first pulling off your top, then tugging your shorts down. the whole time, you could feel your heart pounding. you’d gotten naked in the past for others, but something about doing it for schlatt, the same schlatt you’d been growing feelings for, felt different. still, you continued, taking off your bra and underwear as well until you were finally naked in front of him. schlatt’s first words were the same as yours.

“oh my god, doll,” he took a sharp breath as he looked you over, his eyes beginning to smolder with lust. “you look perfect. like everything i’ve imagined and more.”

you couldn’t help but blush, though you were a bit surprised as well. “what do you mean everything you’ve imagined?”

schlatt blinked, his lust fading in confusion. “doll, you have t’ know how much i want ya by now, i just— i didn’t want t’ make you uncomfortable, so i took what i could get.”

“what do you mean when you say you want me?”

“platonically, sexually, romantically. whatever i can get.”

it felt like a weight came off your shoulders when schlatt said that, and you couldn’t help but smile as you walked forward to sit on his lap. “what about all of the above?”

he nodded, then like so many other times, he leaned in to kiss you. this time though, it was different, full of a special kind of passion that came with knowing your feelings were reciprocated. of course, there was also the fact that you were completely naked in schlatt’s lap, his hands running over every inch of skin he could reach.

“jay,” you whined between kisses. “wanna fuck you.”

“fuck, hold on, doll. lemme get my clothes off and get you prepped.”

he didn't take long in stripping, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. that included his long, thick cock, hanging heavy between his thighs and curving slightly to the left.

"how is that supposed to fit?" you mumbled quietly to yourself, though schlatt chuckled as he heard.

"don't worry, doll," he promised, moving down and pressing a kiss to your clit. "i'll make sure you're nice and wet f' me."

you couldn't help but gasp as he dived in, your fingers tangling in his hair as he ate your pussy like it was his last meal. his own fingers were busy playing with your clit, as he drank up the slick coming from your cunt. "jay!"

schlatt moved and pressed a kiss to your clit before pulling back with a grin, switching to sliding two fingers in your pussy. "c'mon, doll. we're just getting started,"

a high-pitched whine left your mouth, and your back arched as he began to search for the spot that would make you fall apart. it didn't take long either, his grin growing as you called out for him again. "there it is. that's my pretty girl, soakin' my fuckin' fingers. are you gonna cum, baby?"

you nodded, crying out as he began to suck your clit as well. it was your undoing, and you quickly reached your orgasm as he continued to pump his fingers. "i'm cumming, jay! i'm cumming!"

he pulled off and gently pulled his fingers out, face shining slightly with your slick. "good girl. did that feel okay?"

once again, you nodded, panting for breath. "felt amazing."

schlatt leaned in to kiss you, a string of slick connecting your lips as he pulled back. you both laughed, and he pulled back further to break it. "so, are you ready for the rest?"

"yes please," you murmured, him carefully getting into position over you. "just be gentle."

"i promise." he replied, leaning in again to give you a quick kiss before he pushed in.

despite how wet and open you felt, schlatt was big enough that it was a stretch. your nails dug into his back, and you couldn't stop the whimper that escaped you. "oh my god, oh my god—"

he stopped for a minute, looking down at you in concern. still, you could see how hard he was working to keep still. "you okay, doll?"

"just give me a minute. your dick is fucking massive."

the two of you stayed in silence, each trying not to move until you finally gave the go ahead. this time, as schlatt finished pushing in and began to move, you could feel pleasure starting to run up your spine.

"feeling better?" he grinned, his smug attitude beginning to return as the pleasure was clear on your face.

"mhm," you agreed, beginning to roll your hips in time with his thrusts. "feeling a lot better— fuck!"

he adjusted your position into a mating press, making it so you could hear the wet sounds of your pussy as he thrust in, and let out a groan. "fuck, doll. your pussy's so wet f' me. gonna pump you full of cum, get ya even more slick,"

you couldn't help but whimper, clenching around his cock at that statement and making him chuckle a bit. "you like that idea? me fillin' you up with all my cum, gettin' your tummy all round?"

"please," you begged with a sob, making him pick up his pace with another groan. "please breed me, jay!"

"shit, doll, is that it? you want me to make you a mama?"

you nodded, drunk with pleasure. "mhm, please, jay. need your cum so bad."

"you'll get it doll," he grunted, moving his hand down to your clit as well. "just give me a minute. want you to cum too."

sure enough, it didn't take much longer for schlatt's thrusts to grow sloppy and his breathing to grow ragged. "you ready, baby?"

"yes, jay," you moaned, back arching once again as you felt your orgasm building. "gonna cum!"

"then cum, doll. need you to cum so i can give you a baby." he grunted, fingers continuing to dexterously play with your clit.

that was all it took for you to peak, tumbling over the edge with a cry. you could feel yourself milking schlatt as you came, causing him to cum shortly after. you couldn't help but feel tears prick at your eyes from the full feeling. it was everything you could have dreamt of with schlatt and more.

he helped you clean up afterwards, gentle and caring, before snuggling with you in bed.

"so," he eventually murmured, playing with your hair. "we're going to keep this up for the rest of the trip, and even after, right?"

you smiled softly, cuddling closer to him and giving him a kiss. "i think we'll be doing this for a long time to come."

[harryspet]

oki so content warningish? ignore if u want ofc! the link is to a girl taking two fingers in her mouth/ finger sucking but not really? like the guy kinda just shoving them idk :<?

https://www.tumblr.com/solvsol/736569456856301568?source=share

just a request of mean/ dark rafe with this sorta thing? ofc ignore if ur uncomfortable! lmk if u want me to specify more

[warnings] dark!rafe x reader, NONCON, rough oral sex, face f*cking, mouth fingering, saliva, gagging ... etc. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Rafe would definitely do this, and he's definitely a head pusher when it comes to receiving oral! i barely edited this sorry :)

You drank too much, everything happened too quickly, and now your first time with Rafe wouldn't happen in the way that you imagined. You were so grateful for the attention he was giving you at the bonfire that you accepted every red solo cup he passed to you. You hurried and finished each drink every time he said, "Awe, I thought you could keep up with me, Y/N? You don't want to have fun?"

Now you were in the back of his truck, sloppily kissing in the confined space. Rafe's hands were everywhere, but he paid close attention to your breasts, grabbing them in his large hands and rubbing his thumb over your nipples. When your lips parted to moan, he just shoved his tongue deeper into your mouth. You couldn't breathe and that only added to your dizziness.

You pushed at his shoulders and realized how solid he was, how much naturally stronger he was than you. Pressed against the back door, Rafe pushed your legs apart, "W-Wait," You struggled to say. You repeated the word until your talking began to interrupt Rafe's ability to kiss you.

"What?" Even in the darkness of the car, you saw Rafe's empty, expecting expression, “You can’t say no now; I’m already hard.”

“No, that’s not – I mean,” You did want him to stop but the look in his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t pulled any further away from you made you realize that wasn’t an option, “Can we – Can we go slower?”

Rafe took in a breath, almost seeming frustrated. He looked you over, your top pulled low and your hard nipples poking through your shirt, “Shit,” Rafe whispered, sitting back in his seat. Shaky hands ran through his dark blonde hair, and his right leg bounced as he thought something over. He didn’t think for too long before reaching down to undo his belt. His bulge was already noticeable, too; his khakis were leaving nothing to the imagination, but you couldn’t help how your eyes widened when he fully pulled himself out of his briefs, “You did this to me, you know. You can use your mouth. Take care of me.”

You already knew this was the better idea, and you nodded your head. Another time, you’d both be sober and could have a romantic time. In a bed, preferably, after Rafe asked you to be his girlfriend. 

He reached and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to the other side of the truck. You got on your knees, wrapping your dominant hand around his base, feeling exactly how hard he was. Unexpectedly, Rafe grabbed ahold of the back of your hair, forcing your face down. You did what you thought you should do, stroking his base while lubricating the tip. You swirled your tongue around, tasting him before you took more of him in your mouth. 

Rafe’s hand was lifting up your skirt, roughly grabbing your ass, as he slowly pushed your head further down. You started to gag, taking more of him in than was comfortable, but Rafe only smacked your ass, not allowing you to come up for air. Soon you were panicking, pushing at his thighs until he let you come up for air. You pulled away, tears fell, and you coughed as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Have you ever done this before? You’re already gagging, and I’m only halfway inside your mouth.” You looked at him through blurry eyes. 

“That-That hurt, Rafe” You spoke hoarsely. 

“Hey, hey,” He grabbed ahold of your face, pulling your face closer to his, “You need more practice. You won’t learn how to take my dick any other way. C’mere.”

Again, his grip was tight on your hair. This time, he pushed his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. Your wide eyes looking at him made him smile, although there was still an emptiness behind his eyes. Slowly, he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, his gold ring touching your lips. Every time you gagged, he shushed you and often would just shove his fingers further, “You’re not going to throw up, don’t be so scared,” He said, “You can do it; I know you can, fucking slut.”

Your eyes started to close, but he snapped at you, “Watch me. This is my mouth now. I can do whatever I want, right?”

You couldn’t respond as he pushed his fingers deeper. When he could push his fingers deep, and you didn’t gag, he stopped, “There you go,” Rafe pulled his fingers from your mouth, wiping the saliva all over your cheeks before he pinched your cheeks within his hand, “I knew you could do it, Y/N.” 

Tears were falling from embarrassment, and you wanted to hyperventilate, but Rafe bent you back over his lap moments later.

+

send dark!alpha!rafe concepts/ideas if you have them :)

[sanjisleggy]

no more hiding (smoker x reader)

req: Hi!!! Could you maybe do a Smoker x pirate reader. Like trying to hide the relationship and stuff from the other Marines and her pirate crew. (Whichever crew you want) idk I just want cute pirate x Marine stuff maybe little angsty if you want but need cute things

a/n: omg i’ve been thinking about this request for the past three (3) days and i might have gotten very carried away with the angst at the start, istg i couldn’t help myself ajskdhjakshja i hope the subsequent fluff in the flashbacks and ending was enough to make up for it!! ;;0;; i legit had a lot more angst planned but i cut it out bc the request asked for more fluffy stuff :’D

contents: suggestive themes (nothing explicit though, idk why i wrote Smoker and reader so h0rny for each other but alas it is what is), angst to fluff, mentions of wounds and stitching of said wounds

wc. 2.3k

i.

Smoker can’t help the tinge of bitterness that gathers at the back of his throat, the taste so strong that not even his usual nightly cigars can chase away the smell. it’s a rather rare occurrence, only really happening when he gets anxious and it’s been a long time since anxiety overrode every other emotion in his body in such a way.

though the experience is slightly uncomfortable, he supposes it can’t really be helped since it involves you; his childhood friend (the only one, in fact), his closest companion and the love of his life. 

the Vice Admiral wonders what’s taking you so long. you always show up at his doorstep roughly half an hour after he’s sent out a trail of smoke to go look for you—the signal you’ve used since you were kids. back then it was for innocent hangouts beyond curfew and now it’s for late night meetings that often end with either one of you on top of the other, tangled in his bedsheets.

as much as Smoker would like to think about your latest escapade, his nerves are starting to get the better of him and his mind begins to race. 

ii. 

“you joined Tomohana’s crew?! what’s the matter with you?” his voice cracked slightly near the end of his sentence. you normally would’ve made fun of him for it but the air between him and you was a bit too tense for jokes like that. 

“ i know you know they’re not like normal pirates,” you replied as calmly as you could considering your best friend was yelling at you. “everyone in Loguetown loves him and his crew, they’re always fighting off rowdy pirates to protect the neighbouring islands.”

”that should be the Marines’ job.”

”exactly! but they don’t really do that a lot, do they?” you could tell you’d made a point so good even Smoker couldn’t rebut. “with Vice Admiral Gokiburi around, all they do is make our lives miserable.”

”it won’t be that way for long and you know that.” 

“oh please, you just got promoted a month ago and you’ve been with the Marines for how many years now?” he glared down at you but even his deep scowl wasn’t enough to hide the redness in his cheeks. “we’ll be in our mid-thirties before you take his place.”

”so?” Smoker snapped, fists clenched at his sides as hints of white smoke trailed out of the corners of his mouth. “at least i’ll be makin’ an actual difference! unlike you.” the tone of his voice dropped to an eerily calm albeit deep one. 

“what about me?” you challenged before you could help it. you knew from experience that adding fuel to the fire was not gonna end pretty but in that moment, you needed to know what he meant.

iii. 

why now? why am i remembering this now?

Smoker finds himself outside your door at midnight. the radio silence from you had been too much to bear and he just needs to know if you’re okay; and yet there he stands, fist halfway to making contact with your door when the bitter memory of your most painful fight decides it’s time to claw its way into the forefront of his mind.

after that incident,

after i called you all those awful things

you stopped talking to him for five years.

iv. 

it had been Tomohana of all people who’d told you about Smoker that day. he didn’t provide many details but it was enough for you to show up at his front door after years of no contact. after knocking, you could hear the sound of furniture being toppled over and heavy, unstable footsteps before the door swung open.

Smoker’s eyes widened upon seeing your face and he became so still that one of his cigars slipped out from between his teeth, hitting the ground unceremoniously between your feet and his. without saying a word, he stepped aside to let you in.

amidst the countless empty bottles of varying types of alcohol and a handful of presents you presumed were from his subordinates, the two of you sat in silence. 

“i heard you got promoted,” you said suddenly, after almost ten minutes of nothing. “congrats.” as though surprised at hearing your voice, Smoker cleared his throat before responding.

”thanks.” he paused for a few seconds. “i’m Vice Admiral now.”

”i know.” you offered him a small smile. “you don’t seem very happy about achieving your childhood dream though.”

”i…” he clenched his teeth, his already flushed face turning even redder from something other than alcohol. “i wish i could’ve celebrated with you, is all.” his eyes turned down to stare at his feet. for a man so huge, he looked awfully small. “i miss you. i’m sorry i said those things all those years ago. i didn’t mean any of it.”

hot tears began to stream down your face before you could even fully process what he was saying. 

“why’d it take you so long then?” you replied with a sniffle—the sound seemingly triggering something in the man as his head snapped back up to look at you. “all this time—” you had to pause to take in a deep, shaky breath “—i thought you hated me.”

upon your admission, the one and only Smoker, a Vice Admiral of the mighty Marines, slid off his seat to kneel before you. although he was drunk, at that moment he was the most sober he’d ever been in his life.

”i could never hate you, doll.” he grabbed your hands in an uncharacteristically soft manner before bringing them up to his lips. your heart pounded so violently within the confines of your chest, you wondered if he could hear it. “i’ve loved you ever since we were kids.” 

speechless, all you could really do was stare at him with your mouth parted.

”please let me make it up to you, (Y/N),” Smoker pleaded with a pitiful look in his usually hardened eyes. you briefly wondered what his subordinates would think if they saw him like that, especially the girl with the spectacles who seemed to admire him so much. he looked so little like the aggressive, no-nonsense Marine the locals now knew him as and so much like the Smoker from when you were just children. 

you realised, in that moment, how much you’d missed him, too.

v.

it’s taking all he’s got not to show his anger and fear as the Vice Admiral watches you stitch yourself back together in quite the literal sense. he’s clenching his fists so hard he can feel his nails dig into the meat of his palms, he won’t be surprised if he draws blood.

the white-haired man isn’t quite sure what exactly he’s angry at: you? your crew and Tomohana for letting you go home wounded to patch yourself up? even maybe himself?

before Smoker can make his decision, he’s torn away from his own thoughts by the sound of a pained whine being forced through your gritted teeth. wordlessly, he closes the gap between him and you and kneels by your feet. carefully, he finishes up the final stitches as your hand grips his shoulder tightly to cope with the pain. 

unknowingly, his Devil Fruit power kicks in, causing a whisp of white smoke to curl itself around your face and body. the familiar cooling sensation of his smoke caressing your skin soothes the stinging pain of your open wounds and the aches in your tired joints. 

you already know he’s mad, not just at you for getting hurt once again but at everything else, as well. it’s just the kind of guy Smoker is: always angry or uptight over something. and yet, he ties off the final stitch so carefully and when he’s done, he simply sighs before resting his cheek atop your thigh as he tenderly runs his palm up and down your bare leg, as if trying to remind himself that you’re still there.

from the way he exhales his following breath, you can tell he wants to say something.

vi.

“leave the crew,” he said suddenly, breaking through the comfortable silence that had befallen the two of you after an evening of post-dinner cuddling. his hand reaching up to rub the back of your neck as you rested your head on his bare chest. the night was hot and humid but neither of you cared how sticky your skin felt pressed against his, you’d both grown up in this weather after all. “i make more than enough berry for us to live comfortably.”

”you know that’s not what i’m worried about, love,” you replied with a chuckle as you adjusted your position by Smoker’s side to bury your face into the crook of his neck. the Vice Admiral’s chest rumbled in a way not unlike a cat’s purring as he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “the crew helps to protect a lot of the locals from the neighbouring islands and i wanna make sure there’s enough manpower before i consider quitting.” 

“can’t believe i’m sayin’ this but i hope a hundred of new recruits show up at that bastard Tomohana’s doorstop first thing tomorrow,” the man beside you sighed, only half-joking, before he rolled his body over yours without warning.

”hey!” you protested, wiggling under his weight. he chuckled as he trapped you beneath him, pressing kisses all over your face.

”tell him to hurry up and gather more crewmates already, doll,” Smoker murmured against your skin, “it’s not like they’re doin’ anything illegal anyway so why the secrecy, hmm? tryin’ to keep my girl away from me?”

”it’s not like that and you know it.” you hugged his head to your chest with both arms, smile growing even wider when you felt his muscles relax from your touch. “besides, they’d have to know about us to begin with.” 

“i’m tired of sneakin’ around,” he mumbled into your chest, muffling his words ever so slightly. “the cadets can get so nosy sometimes, it pisses me off.” Smoker admitted whilst rubbing your sides tenderly. “‘sides, all this hiding makes it feel like you’re some dirty secret.”

vii.

before he can say anything, you speak your mind first.

”i’m done hiding. i quit the crew earlier today.” Smoker’s head snaps up from your lap for his widened eyes to meet yours. staring back down at him with a small smile on your face, you cup his face with your right hand, feeling the stubble on his skin when he nuzzles into your touch. “some cocky new recruit challenged me for my position afterward. he was a pretty good fighter but i beat the shit out of him.”

”that’s my girl.” Smoker says with a chuckle, his hand giving your calf a light squeeze as he stares at you for a good few seconds. “so you’re finally free?” he asks with a glimmer in his eye. 

”you say that as if i was held hostage or something.”

”can’t help it, doll. that’s pretty much what it felt like for the past three years.” he presses yet another kiss to your bare thigh. “so… move in with me?”

”tomorrow,” you reply simply but definitively, much to his pleasure. “but first,” you gesture for him to stand up before holding out your arms in his direction, “carry me to bed.”

Smoker raises an eyebrow at your request though he can’t help the smile on his face. he wonders how ridiculous he must look, like some lovesick fool.

”please?” you pout and within seconds, you’re swept into his arms bridal style. you let out a soft yelp of surprise despite how carefully he’d picked you up. “i’m okay, you didn’t hurt me.” you’re quick to reassure him when a look of worry washed over his face from the sound you just made. you can feel his shoulders relax in response.

“bath first, then bed.” he states simply, already walking towards your bathroom.

”together?” you grin up at him, tracing a finger down his chest. a redness blooms across Smoker’s rugged face as he shoots you a frown that looks more silly than intimidating. he doesn’t even grace you with a verbal answer, deeming it too ridiculous to even acknowledge fully.

of course he’s going to join you. the day he says no to such a request is the day hell freezes over.

viii.

the night air feels more cooling than usual, you realise as you snuggle closer to your beloved, trying to steal as much of his body heat as you possibly can. using his bicep as a pillow with your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck, you hug him like a koala to a tree: your arms around his middle and your legs locked around his right thigh. admittedly it’s not the most comfortable position for Smoker but he’ll die before he complains about it. 

for the first time he’ll be able to sleep the night at your place and wake up by your side under the morning sun. no longer will either of you have to rise before dawn breaks to sneak back home, pretend the other has nothing to do with you until the moon takes the sun’s place and his smoke trail guides you back to him. 

Smoker is careful not to touch your stitches as he turns towards you slightly to pull you closer. he runs his hands over all the bare skin of yours he can reach, leaving goose bumps in his fingers’ wake, his heart fluttering when you giggle and wriggle your body in response.

i can’t wait to come home to you every night and see you every morning.

although it’s been a long day, neither of you get much sleep that night. 

[hassedah]

Hi, I hope requests are open!

I was wondering how the boys would react to meeting mcs family (let's just assume they have family lol) I feel like that may be very, very chaotic and fun

Vladimir meets MC's family:

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

I'm back again. I have quite a few requests pending. I'll try to publish them quickly. Several of them are already in my drafts and are almost finished ^^.

I'm going to make a separate answer for each character with this request, given everything I've written for Vladimir and the fact that I like each character to have roughly the same length of response.

The next one to come out should be Beliath, I'm halfway through for him.

I hope you enjoy it! ^^

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

-----

Did he tell you he was stressed? Maybe a dozen times since you left the manor. Vladimir is sitting in the passenger seat next to you, you must have hired a car to take you to the town. It's a short hour's drive, but for once, Vladimir seems much less stressed about the car journey than the idea of meeting your parents.

"It's all right, darling. They're not going to eat you, you know, you are trying to lighten the mood by joking.

-I know!"

You give him a quick look. Vladimir is clinging to the door as if his life depended on it, and he can't help shaking his leg.

"Do you want me to stop the car? -No, I'm fine. -All right, if you change your mind, let me know. It'll make us a bit late, but my parents will wonder what I've done to you if you turn up so distressed. -We can't be late, it's impolite. -It's OK to be a bit late and it's better than having an anxiety attack in my living room, isn't it?"

He nodded. He wasn't as stressed when he left the manor, well, he was, but he didn't feel like he was running out of air. He spent more than an hour looking for the right clothes to wear, you saw her change outfits more than a dozen times before you decided to choose clothes yourself from her wardrobe. He's comfortable in it, which is the main thing, in your opinion, but he's worried about looking like a fool in front of your parents with his clothes from another century. Maybe they won't even let him in the house. After all, what kind of parents would let a monster like him anywhere near their child? If his parents had understood that the person who had transformed him was a vampire, he would never have been allowed near him.

Vladimir groans. He gets even more anxious by himself. Your parents won't know that he's a vampire, how could they? You haven't told them and it's not written on his forehead… well, he'll always look strange… What parents could leave their child with someone as strange as him?! His clothes are anachronistic, the way he talks is strange.

"Calm down Vladimir, you're worrying me. Are you sure you don't want me to stop the car? -No, I'll be fine. -I assure you my parents will like you. And it's only dinner, it's nothing formal."

A dinner party! Not formal! A first dinner at your partner's parents' house is very formal. He would have known perfectly well what to do in the 19th century, but in the 21st century! He has no idea, and he's already afraid of the mistakes he might make. How should he address them? What subjects are allowed to be discussed? Where should he sit at the table? He can't just sit anywhere, there are rules to be respected! He hasn't even brought a present for your parents - you said it wasn't necessary, but he feels it's really impolite. Perhaps there's still time to turn back? His chest is compressed with anxiety and he's struggling to breathe. You let go of the steering wheel with one hand to take his.

You, you would have preferred to wait a little longer before Vladimir met your parents. You had gone to see them alone on several occasions and you had spoken to them about Vladimir many times. They began to insist on meeting him. You often told your parents that Vladimir was allergic to sunlight and therefore you couldn't come for lunch. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. It was several weeks before they asked you to come for dinner one evening, and you tried to put the date back as far as possible, mainly so that Vladimir would have time to get used to the idea of meeting them. But they were so insistent that you couldn't keep them waiting for more than a week, on a moonless night.

"They're very nice, you'll see, but a bit protective," you try to reassure him. But I think that's normal for parents. They're also likely to make some not very funny jokes. If you don't feel well at any time, you can go and lock yourself in my room. Normally you'd be sitting next to me, so you can shake my hand if anything goes wrong. -Yes… I'll do everything I can not to make you feel uncomfortable with my presence. -I'm not talking about that, Vladimir. You won't cause any problems, I know that. My parents are going to ask you questions about you, about what you like, about your family. -No! No, I don't want anyone talking about my family. -I'll try to deflect the conversation if that happens, don't worry."

You squeezed his hand, then stroked his palm, to reassure him, and it seemed to work, because he relaxed a little. You weren't far from your parents' house and after another ten minutes or so you saw their house looming up in the dark street. You stopped just in front of the house before turning to Vladimir.

"Can we go now? you ask softly. -Yes, I think we can. -All right, then. You'll see, they're nice people, I'm sure they'll like you. -I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," mumbled Vladimir as he got out of the car, "not many people like me… -Don't be silly, everyone at the manor loves you and I've even fallen in love with you. That just goes to show you're someone to love, doesn't it?"

Vladimir gave a little pout without answering. You waited for him by the car and he came over to take your hand in his, and you smiled, leaning in slightly to kiss his cheek before approaching the house.

"It's a small house," Vladimir whispered in your ear as you approached the door. -Yes, I don't live in a castle. -I… I just want to say that even my country house was bigger "

You laughed softly.

" Damn, I really don't know how to express myself. I…. I'm making it worse for myself, aren't I? -That's OK. You make me laugh. You leaned in to kiss her again. I know you're not just saying that to be mean or to brag, I know you."

You rang the doorbell. Your parents only took a few seconds to arrive, almost as if they'd been waiting in the hall to let you in. There was a lot of talking, about your route, your health, the weather, all mixed up with more or less noisy and awkward introductions. Vladimir remained stubbornly beside you, with a smile on his face that you couldn't have described other than uncomfortable. Remembering that your partner is not used to so much commotion, you slipped a hand behind his back to reassure him, and he moved a little closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

"I'm delighted to meet you," said Vladimir, glancing at you briefly to make sure he wasn't making a mistake. I am honoured to be invited to dinner. -Don't be so formal, young man," exclaimed one of your parents. We're not going to eat you. -I -Vladimir finds it difficult to use informal language. There's not much he can do about it, I think he'll be more comfortable if he keeps talking like that. -Do you really think so? It's strange, but so be it. Come on in, let's get off the porch, it's a cold."

You were pushed inside the house by your parents, who were still talking. There was a strong smell of food in the house and you were already certain that your parents had prepared your favourite dish to celebrate your visit. You all headed for the dining room. Vladimir sat right next to you while your parents sat opposite. His face was icy, a look he always takes when he's stressed and anxious and which often has the misfortune of making him appear extremely arrogant and cold. You grabbed his hand under the table to stroke it and try to help him relax, but he only squeezed your hand before turning his face towards you, you were sure your parents wouldn't see, but you could read the anxiety in his dark eyes perfectly.

The start of the meal went off without a hitch, except for Vladimir who, being rather fussy about food, didn't touch many dishes. The conversation went pretty well too, despite your parents' insistence that your vampire fill up his plate a little more.

"Really, you don't eat much, don't you like it? asked one of your parents after Vladimir had turned down another piece of meat with a contrite smile.

At the remark your partner opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. You immediately stepped in to save him.

"Vladimir has a small appetite, he never eats much. -All the same," continued one of your parents, "it's not good for your health. -I… it's very good… but I don't eat much… MC is right… -It's obvious, you're just skin and bones. -That's not a very nice comment, firstly, and secondly, it's not polite to comment on what people eat either. You're making Vladimir feel uncomfortable.

There was a pause in the conversation as you stared alternately at your parents, beside you Vladimir sighed with relief before taking your hand under the table to thank you.

"Ah, sorry, young man. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's just concern. -It's nothing, nothing at all," mumbled Vladimir.

The meal resumed on less delicate subjects and Vladimir began to relax again. He spoke very little, however, content to answer your parents' questions. When the subject of the manor came up, things got complicated again.

"So, you all live in your house together, is that right? -That's right. -And it's your house? MC told me it was a manor house. -Yes… it is my mansion… -How well do you know your flatmates? I mean, seven people, that's a lot of people it can't be quiet every day. -We have been living together for several years…" replied Vladimir. We get on quite well, even if there is sometimes friction… -It can't be easy to keep everyone happy. I suppose it must be a lot quieter when everyone goes off to work."

You were going to tell a lie, but Vladimir's face betrayed you before you even had time to open your mouth.

"Don't they have jobs?! Your parents' exclamation made Vladimir stiffen in his chair, he moved back a little to press his back against the backrest and you intervened once again to save him. -Of course it is! Everyone has a job. Except Ivan, but he's younger and it's hard for him to find work in the current economic climate. However, he helps us a lot around the house, he does the cleaning, he tends the garden, he always goes shopping for us with Beliath and he's a very polite and very nice boy. Isn't he, my darling? -Y… yes… Ivan is a very helpful boy."

Your lie and your smile worked because your parents relaxed almost immediately before smiling at you again.

"Oh, we were scared for a moment, I thought they were all living in your house without paying. -MC didn't tell us about it, but what do you do for a living, Vladimir? -I… I work… Vladimir glances at you, immediately understanding his distress, and you smile at your parents. -Vladimir is a writer, it's difficult to find a job when you can't work during the day. And he writes very well, by the way."

It wasn't a total lie, of course, Vladimir had never published a single book, but he did write. However, you didn't often get the chance to read his stories because your partner didn't feel comfortable enough with his writing to show them to you.

"Oh, really… It's an original job… but it can't bring in much money…," worries one of your parents. -Money's not a problem, the house is completely self-sufficient," you reply. -The house may be self-sufficient, but you're not living on love and fresh water. -Our food comes from the garden. -The garden… and what do you do in winter? -We store the produce," you always reply, while Vladimir seems to be trying to become one with the chair. -And what about the meat? -I think that if we needed meat Aaron could take care of it without any problem," you answer, giving Vladimir a knowing smile. -Oh… yes, Aaron would have no problem with that. -And we've got enough money anyway to buy meat if we need it."

The discussion suddenly turned to the rising price of meat and the growing vegetarian lifestyle. Vladimir grabbed your hand under the table during the discussion and you began to gently stroke the palm of his hand to try and help him calm down. Slowly, you succeeded, at least until the discussion turned back to your vampire's work.

"I could never have done this job myself, I need to move around to feel good. Do you even do sport? -Er… no. I… I don't do sport. -Not even a little? It's very bad for your health. You should be careful. -I… I don't like it… but I used to go horse-riding. -Horse-riding. It's an expensive sport!"

You ignored your parent's comment as you turned to Vladimir with a smile.

"Did I? You never told me you'd been horse-riding," you reply, amused. -Everyone went riding," protests Vladimir. I even had my own mare. -A mare? But horses cost money to keep! How could your parents afford to buy you something like that?"

You ignored your parent again as he continued his tirade to ask Vladimir.

"And what was her name?"

Vladimir blushed and looked down.

"Oh come on, tell me. I promise I won't laugh. -You're lying, I was three when I named him. You're going to laugh. I know you too well… -Oh come on, what name could a three-year-old boy give his horse… Cherry? Raspberry? No, too modern… Artemisia? Aphrodite? Penelope? -No… I don't think you'll be able to find… -You don't? -I'll tell you… later…"

You smile before leaning over to kiss his cheek, the simple gesture enough to make him blush profusely, he stammers something you don't fully understand but he takes your hand under the table to kiss it gently. You are taken out of your bubble by your parents' discussion, which resumes. The clock is already striking twenty-two and you've just finished your meal. It's been a long dinner and you can feel that your partner is getting more and more tired and already just wants to crawl back into your bedroom to get some rest. However, your parents still have a lot to say and a lot of questions to ask.

"And do you dress like this every day? -Er… yes. -It's original, you must stand out in the street. -I… I don't get out of the house much. -Oh, yes, that's true. MC told us. Your flatmates must be surprised to see you dressed like that. -He's very handsome like that," you retorted immediately to end the discussion."

Your tone is dry enough for your parents to instinctively understand that the discussion is not appropriate.

"I'm not saying otherwise, but it's -Impolite to criticise people's dress? I suppose. -Yes, it is, sorry, bunny, I didn't mean to offend you."

The discussion changes again and Vladimir seems relieved, raising the eyes he had lowered during the discussion to look at you. You smile gently at him to reassure him and this is almost enough to make his unease and shame disappear completely. You talk again for several minutes as you eat the dessert, time passing slowly for Vladimir, who has to keep himself from asking when you're finally going to come home. He was happy, however, not to be included in the discussion, that is, until one of your parents asked him a new question.

"And your parents? What do they do? Do they live near here?"

Vladimir squeezed your hand so hard it almost hurt, you didn't need to turn your head to him to know he must have changed colour at the question. You shook his hand in turn before smiling at your parents and to divert the conversation.

"I saw on my way here that he was planning to build a new road through the forest. -Ah, don't tell me about it," it exclaimed immediately, sitting back in his chair. It's another stupid idea. They'll do anything these days, as if there weren't enough roads already… "

Without listening any longer, you turned your head towards Vladimir and stroked his hand under the table. He seemed lost in thought.

"Do you want to go out for a moment?" you whispered, leaning close to his ear. -I want to stay with you," he replied almost immediately. -All right, then. Don't worry, dinner's nearly finished, just the coffee left and I promise we'll go home straight away."

He simply nodded in reply. The subject never came up again, as your parents had obviously forgotten about it and were complaining about the traffic problems on the road and the many traffic jams on the way into town in the mornings. During the discussion, Vladimir had moved his chair closer to yours and you were almost shoulder to shoulder. After a while, your parents finally served the coffee and Vladimir had some tea, because to his great relief your parents had some. He felt like he could fall asleep with his eyes open so he didn't hear when one of your parents asked him a question, and you had to squeeze his hand to make him pay attention to what was being said.

"Can you cook?" repeated your parent. -No… I had servants at home. -So… you've never cooked?" asked your stunned parent. -Servants?! -Well…"

Vladimir gives you another pleading look to get him out of this situation.

"It's Béliath and Raphaël who cook at home."

However, your parents don't listen to you for a second. Your partner's revelation seems to have shocked them so much that one of your parents immediately continues on the subject.

"Can you cook pasta? -Well… you need water, I suppose and… fire… -Supposed to? -I… I've never cooked pasta… -You've never cooked pasta! But everyone knows how to cook pasta! -I… it is complicated… I… -But who cooks in your flat? finally asked one of your parents, turning to you. -Raphaël and Béliath, as I've just told you. He cooks very well, so don't worry about the food. -It's crazy not to have cooked before. -But I've cooked before. It's just something complicated. -It's not complicated to cook pasta. -MC, please. -Vladimir doesn't need to cook. Aaron, Ethan and Ivan don't cook either and nobody has a problem with that. -But come on, sweetheart. Cooking pasta isn't complicated! -I wouldn't let Ethan cook pasta if my life depended on it. If it were up to me, Ethan wouldn't even set foot in the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee."

Luckily, your distraction worked and your parents started asking you questions about Ethan, who wouldn't be able to make himself a cup of coffee without setting fire to the kitchen. It certainly wasn't very nice for Ethan, but you didn't have many scruples: if it would allow Vladimir to be serene again, you would be able to claim anything. The meal went on for a while, the cups of tea and coffee had been empty on the table for a good hour when you finally managed to make your parents understand that you were going to leave.

They walked you to the door and kept chatting, so you stayed in the driveway for another long half-hour, repeating several times that it would be a long way to your house and that you couldn't stay any longer, before one of your parents came up with a new topic of discussion that made you stay five minutes longer. Finally, you managed to get out of their grip and finally got in the car to go home.

The way back was completely silent, Vladimir seemed as exhausted as the time Aaron had forced him to train in combat, his head resting limply against the headrest and he answered the few questions you asked him in very short sentences, finally he even stopped answering you and when you turned to look at him, you could see him asleep with his head leaning against the window. You only woke him up once outside the manor house and even though the night was still far from over Vladimir decided to go to bed almost immediately. You followed him into the bedroom to rest with him.

Vladimir breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed into your bed. When you joined him, he immediately snuggled up to you.

"I thought the evening would never end," murmured the vampire. It was hell. -Oh, my darling, you're not going to like this… -What?" asked Vladimir in a worried voice. -Well… it's polite to invite my parents to eat here too… -Please, forget politeness," muttered the vampire. I don't ever want to leave here again, I don't ever want to be invited to a meal. It was horrible, I'd forgotten how much I hate dinner parties. -All right, all right, I forget," you smiled, starting to stroke her hair gently to soothe her. No more dinners, and if anyone offers to take you out to eat, I'll bite them. That's fine with you."

Your vampire nodded, his face completely buried in your neck. You laughed before shifting to kiss the top of his head.

"But I'll only do it on one condition. -What's that?" mumbled the vampire in a muffled voice. -What was the name of your mare? -Lady Princess Cherry Rose Camomile? -That's a pretty long name for a mare," you joked. -My parents said exactly the same thing…"

You laughed again before kissing her again.

"My poor darling, you've had an exhausting night. -I made a lot of effort for you. I didn't even complain about the car journey. It just goes to show that I love you. -I love you too. You saw how I saved you several times from my parents' questions. If that's not proof of love, I don't know what is. -Yes, that's true. You're my hero and mine alone."

[denv2]

OC doodle!

It's fun to draw rency(oc) and friends :3

Honestly, the character personalities... I think I just draw them to my taste.

The reason why I keep emphasizing the headcanon character is because it's a little different from the original, so my conscience is pricked..lol

Below, I'll write down some of my headcanons that I've settled on while drawing!

To start with the OC setup, Rency is not shy about showing affection. He loves physical affection!

Since he's a bit bigger than the others, he tends to be a bit more physical.

This is why Alex eventually gave up trying to get away when he hugged him... Personally, I like it when the bad guy loses... There's something about the relationship where Alex wins against Felix but loses against rency... It's just my kind of thing.

Also, I think I drew Alex in a way that made him look a little calmer than usual? His eyelids are usually halfway down, so I think it gives that impression. But when he's doing something crazy or bad, his face still looks like a bad guy, so I like to draw him that way!

About Rency and Felix! Felix knows that Rency is a four-dimensional friend, but he doesn't hate him when he gets into trouble sometimes because he knows that Rency doesn't mean him any harm, he's just bored and wants to have fun, and he likes his friend. But he knows that he also hangs out with Alex, so he's a little cautious about that.

Felix is accepting of Rency's physical displays of affection as a friend. Rency doesn't approach him blindly either, so Felix lets him do what he feels comfortable with.

About Rency and the Girls, they have a generally good relationship!

Rency likes Sheba's artistic side, so whenever she has a busking gig, he makes sure to take the time to visit. Sheba think he has a mischievous side, but she still thinks he's a good friend, because he only pranks her with funny shows and honestly doesn't do anything too serious. Rency doesn't prank Sheba as much because he has a lot of respect for his favorite artist friend!

As for Kitty and Rency, Rency doesn't play pranks on Kitty either. Because he can't beat Kitty... Kitty is stronger than Rency personality-wise. Even though Rency has an confusing personality, he's very protective of Kitty's word.

In fact, once he played a prank on her once and got scolded very badly, and after that, he stays in line and keeps. I don't have a big setting for the past, but it's roughly like that~ It's not that serious, so... I guess the scale would be that he's been sneaking Kitty's snacks and lying to her and he's been morally reprimanded. To flesh it out a bit more, I'd say that it's happened a few times and Kitty's had enough, so she's caught him and scolded him. Anyway, I wanted to have a setting where rency loses a lot when it comes to Kitty, so yeah.... I like Kitty bossing boys around... she's a girl on top...

Rency also has a sweet tooth, so he enjoys snacking on sweets while chatting with the girls in the cafe, so I'd like to draw that as well.

I talked a lot, but I think it's fun to draw because it's easy to create more interesting situations with OCs. It's easy to draw because I put my own flavor into it. If you read this far, thank you!

[basilhomebrews]

Heyo and a-hello, my name is Basil and you're watching the- *LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER*

In all seriousness, I've not had much creative energy to really homebrew anything for a while now (i.e. me and that friend of mine never really finished our entry for the Fabula Ultima game jam thing we joined, which kinda bummed me out), due to irl stuff taking up a lot of my time. So, instead of agonizing over making and balancing homebrew mechanics for TTRPGs, I've decided to just *play* TTRPGs! (what a concept, amirite)

Specifically, me and a couple irl friends are gonna try and play oneshots using a bunch of different systems and record our thoughts about them, which I will share with y'all. It's not gonna be anything scientific or follow super rigid review guidelines, it's just gonna be a measure of how much we enjoyed the system, how easy the system was to learn/play, and the specific things we liked and disliked about the system. This post'll be the first one in the series, which I am calling-

Givin' it a (One)Shot: Savage Worlds Adventure Edition

Resources Used: Savage Worlds: Adventure Edition core rulebook, Official SWADE Character Sheet, SWADE Science Fiction Companion

TL;DR

Fun We Had: 3.6/5

Ease-of-Learning*: 2.8/5

   *We are of average intelligence and have semi-busy schedules

Ease-of-Use (Actual Play): 3/5

Session 0 Necessity for Longer Play: 4.3/5

Would recommend for groups with 1-2+ years of experience playing crunchy/semi-crunchy systems looking to branch out to new “medium crunch” systems, would not recommend to groups with less experience looking for something quick to pick up and play, unless they really take the time to read through the rules and pick what works for them. For oneshots, either ask the players to make their characters ahead of time or make premades.

In-depth stuff under the cut:

Adventure: Xenos Misadventures on the ISF Galway (Unofficial/I made it the fuck up)

Session Time: Roughly 4 hours, with around an hour dedicated to creating characters for half the party (2 people)

Summary: The party is composed of the surviving crew on the ISF Galway, a Peregrine-class transport ship tasked with carrying refugees and prisoners from one star system to another. Halfway to their destination, they collided with a mysterious asteroid that flew under all their detection systems. Upon closer inspection by everyone higher up on the authority ladder, Xenos (Legally Distinct Aliens) burst out and ravaged the ISF Galway’s crew. The party holed themselves up in the cockpit until the ship grew quiet once more before trying to escape, or worse yet, to fight back. 

Cast of Characters:

Delusional Sanitation Officer turned “Captain”, armed with pilfered Sec Officer armor and a service pistol;

2,500 kg (important [not]) Rynocerant (intelligent rhino race) ship security officer with a grudge against one of the Polarian (intelligent polar bear race) prisoners being transported;

Private security android employed by Unnamed MegaCorp to guard corporate interests (read: POWs for experimentation) on the Galway; and

A straight up elf wizard. Stowaway from one of the Galway’s pit stops, is just a straight up space elf wizard.

All Rank 0 Characters using mostly premade races (Rynocerant is custom, made before the session) following the flowchart detailed in the Character Creation Summary of the core rulebook.

Expectation: Stealth-focused session owing to the fact that there are 3 male juvenile Xenos and 1 queen on the ship. More about navigating through the ship and collecting info and parts necessary to escape while avoiding detection or running away from the Xenos.

Reality: PCs in Savage Worlds can hit hard, huh. They immediately took down one juvenile out of combat owing to a success with raises, and were able to dispatch the other two with only the space elf sustaining a Wound. They escaped pretty handily, getting in the escape pods just before the queen managed to get her claws on them.

Overall a fun experience, though whether that was because of the system or because we were friends bouncing off of each other’s energies, that remains a bit muddled. We had basically 1 1/2 combat encounters (the other one was resolved so quickly that it was barely a combat scenario), and the rest of the session was mostly the usual player-GM back-and-forth fare.

Highlights:

The rynocerant smashing the cockpit doors open so hard that it sent a juvenile xenos careening down the stairs, which the "captain" took credit for;

The "captain" fumbling his revolver shots so bad that it ruptured a fuel tank for one of the ship's Heavy-Duty Cleaning Armaments (flamethrower), filling the hallway with gas;

The space elf taking one Wound and deciding "fuck that" and casting Bolt straight at one xenos so good that it just died on impact;

Said elf asking me if he could choose what element Bolt can take since the book doesn't specify, then subsequently igniting all the gas in the hallway to absolutely destroy the last juvenile;

The rynocerant somehow tanking the above explosion perfectly, no Shaken or nothing;

[EXTREME RYNOCERANT ON POLAR BEAR VIOLENCE]

The pros, cons, and opinions that came up before, during, and after the session:

Pros:

Playing card initiative is fun. The randomness it provides each round is a breath of fresh air for our group, coming from systems with fixed initiative or ones where PCs and enemies alternate taking turns. Also, it’s just cool to deal out cards for initiative.

Bennies are fun to spend and give. As a metacurrency, they can do a lot: my players mostly used them for rerolls and Soaking, but I like that you can spend them to influence the story, after some hopefully constructive back and forth between the players and the GM. Giving them felt intuitive for me, as I like rewarding players with stuff when they play their characters accurately or advance the story in interesting ways.

Wild Die is useful, helps mitigate failure due to bad stats; the Wild Die is a useful representation of how the players (and some NPCs) are big name characters in the narrative, how they are generally more important and more likely to succeed than other characters. Really helps to ease the chance of failure when a player tries something they’re bad at it, makes it feel like they’re more competent than the setting’s average Joe.

Rolls exploding (Aces) is fun for players and GMs. Not much else to say about this, exploding dice is just a fun mechanic to have for most games that use dice.

Raises are an engaging and simple mechanic to play out higher degrees of success; in my experience, I like giving control to players when they succeed more than normal, so raises let me explicitly do that here. Whenever a player got a raise, I gave the floor to them to dictate what additional effect happens on their success, after a bit of back and forth to make sure that it makes sense and it’s not too much.

Cons:

Character creation is crunchy to the point of being a bit confusing. Lots of points to move around, but the allocation system was mostly intuitive save for when a skill went above the soft limit set by its corresponding Attribute. We had to double check our math a few times, just to be sure. This would probably be solved if we had the system more internalized, had more sessions under our belt, but otherwise it seems like a lot to consider when approaching it at an entry-level of familiarity. Might have also been easier if the character sheet listed all the skills instead of just the core ones, and what attributes they were tied to (i.e. Athletics (AGI) or something similar), so that players can easily reference what they might need to pump to get past that soft limit.

Adding to the above, picking out Hindrances especially (and consequently, Edges) at character creation proved to be tedious or an exercise in min-maxxing. I would suggest highlighting the optional nature of the Hindrances rule; make sure players know that you are allowed to take up to four points of Hindrance for the benefits, and that taking none, more , or less is a valid option. Not every negative character trait needs to be codified into a game mechanic, and good roleplaying should still be rewarded with things like Bennies or contextual advantages, regardless of what you've got written down on your character sheet.

Book layout could be better: there’s a decent amount of going back and forth across the rules, and there’s some important things that are hidden or in small text. It helps that page numbers are clickable, but it still definitely feels like you benefit more from having the physical book on you with bookmarks since you might need to go back and forth.

The core rulebook seems really interested in WW2/modern era equipment, to the point where the options for medieval or futuristic settings are dwarfed by the wealth of options available to modern gear. I know that other genre-specific rulebooks exist, but if you tout yourself as a system that can handle a lot of genres, it seems reasonable to expect equal arsenals between genres. Could possibly be fixed by giving a quick rundown of how to make your own gear for different time periods using the options in the core rulebook as examples.

Opinions:

One of the players say that SWADE’s brand of setting agnosticism feels confused, at least for the core rulebook; they say that reading through the core rulebook gave them the impression that it was more of a grocery shelf of mechanics that let you pick and choose what you want to play with instead of a cohesive system that has no fixed setting. Another player agrees with this, calls it too broad; there’s a wealth of options in the core rulebook that newer players might think is fair game for any campaign, instead of an option that may or may not be allowed depending on the group.

A different player says that SWADE does not feel beginner friendly; while the core resolution mechanic is simple, getting to what Trait you need to apply can be tedious. Going through all the skills and remembering what each one does/where it applies can also be a hassle for new-to-semi-experienced players alike, considering how many there are and the overlap that they have (riding, driving, boating, and piloting are distinct skills which in their opinion seems to chase realism too hard).

Same player as above said that Hindrances specifically feel like an unwelcome crinkle; they complained that Hindrances feel like an unnecessary codification of character traits you would probably already have just making your character, and that you can easily min-maxx your way into getting max Hindrance Points for Edges and other benefits.

Personal opinion, what is up with the Obese and Yellow Hindrances. They gave me and another player the ick because: 

Obese seems like a pretty fatphobic Hindrance. The flavor text doesn’t even seem like it’s talking about obesity, just being large and clumsy in general; 

Yellow is a very outdated word for someone being very fearful, and with the book’s obsession with WW2, might be interpreted otherwise; and

There are definitely better names for them out there, like Bulky or Oversized for Obesity and Cowardly or Craven for Yellow.

In conclusion, SWADE embodies the system’s tag line of “Fast! Furious! Fun!” ok enough; it’s easy to pick up and play if you’re more familiar with TTRPGs in general, and it provides a bunch of tools to make game time dynamic and pulpy,  but getting there can be a slog; character creation can be hard to parse through if you don’t have the patience or experience with crunchier systems, and the skills list can be a bit daunting if you don’t familiarize yourself with it ahead of time. 

Highly suggest taking the time to sit down and give the rules a thorough read through, take notes if that’s how you operate, before running or playing this system. For GMs, especially those running this for the first time, I would suggest drip feeding the various mechanics found in the Situational Rules section to your players slowly/as they become relevant; there’s a lot of additional stuff in this section that may or may not come up, and you would be saving yourself a lot of hassle if you just kept bookmarks (for physical copies) or have the pdf handy to reference each one as you see fit instead of familiarizing yourself with all of them ahead of time.

That's all from us, hope this was useful/fun to read through. Til next time, space cowboy~

[japhgura]

The Zanpakutō Arc is my favourite arc of the anime. 

Really weird pick, I know. But when I saw it for the first time when I was much younger I loved all the cool spirits, I’ve always been super in love with the concept of Zanpakutō and getting a look into what the spirits are for everyone was so cool.  

When I rewatched the Arc, I realized that I still very much love the arc, but for different reasons. Namely, the Antagonist, Muramasa. I love his motives, how he goes about stuff and his character. He might be my favourite character in all of Bleach and this is a filler arc. 

But as much as I realized my love for the antagonist, I noticed that the stories of the Zanpakutō Spirits, as well as the designs and what they’re like seemed... Very lacklustre. I get that it’s filler and character development or anything isn’t allowed but.. oof. 

This turned out rather long so the rest is under the cut, including Kazeshini mini-makeover!

So one day, I wanna rewrite that Arc and give it as much love as it deserves. Kind of a passion project that would take a shit ton of work, but the end product would be something I could not only enjoy and share, but look back on fondly for a very long time. 

When/if I do that there’s a few things I wanna do for it. 

We’re gonna play by AEIWAM (by @gallusrostromegallus, go look at the tag) rules.  

Bleach without mods is very hard to play after having experienced Aeiwam and I can’t go back anymore.

This would very much be just me joining the bandwagon of creators playing in Gallus’ sandbox of wonder, but Aeiwam is what got me back into Bleach and the world building is too gooddddd. So, Zanpakutō Arc would once again be more of a filler (though Gallus if you find anything in it that you like please feel free to pick and choose if I ever manage to write this) 

The Spirits need some serious make overs. 

 While some designs are cool, others are kind of uninspired and really do feel like filler. Some of the personalities are stereotypes pretending to be characters. The whole Haineko, Tobiume, Hyōrinmaru love triangle was kinda weird imho. Stuff like, just put a bit more autistic special interest spice in it, make it more funky. Spend actual quality time on the Zanpakutō spirits, their appearance, their characters and their relationships. Have more funky things like Itegumo the Avalanche (Courtesy of @gallusrostromegalus). Spirits like Hōzukimaru and Ruriirokujaku would are prime candidates f.E.

3. Muramasa deserves better.

For real. Did not deserve to turn into glitter after breaking himself over and over for his Shinigami. Absolute Love and Loyalty met with nothing but hatred. The guy stabbed him and broke the sword and Muramasa was still nothing but loyal.

Fun Fact: Maegawa's first appearance was in a story we later called Zanpakutō Stories: Stockholm Syndrome. Very good time.

Her powers were made specifically to be able to save him from death by getting the hollows out of him without hurting him.

Her name is a bit of a wordplay. Asahi, the morning sun of a new day. And especially Maegawa. Muramasa expresses multiple times to his Shinigami to leave behind the past and look forward. To move forward. Together.

Maegawa, roughly translated: forward river. Pretty on the nose, but I couldn't resist

Actual cool stories between Zanpakutō and Shinigami.  

The conclusion of almost all sub stories between Shinigami and Sword Spirits was kind of a let down. The arc started strong in that regard, but then everyone broke swords left and right and they fixed it at the end with Mayuri Special Clown Magic. The premise of losing your powers forever if you kill your Zanpakutō Spirit was very cool but eventually ignored and even subverted by the Shinigami starting to purposefully destroying the swords halfway through.  

It would be a lot cooler if instead of just defeating them in battle everyone has to properly engage their Zanpakutō spirit and work out whatever gripes Muramasa has drawn out and strengthened. 

In that same vein, here’s an example I was pondering for this arc. A prime suspect of both ?? Design and very very unsatisfying story conclusion: 

Kazeshini 

The design was always really out of left field for me. A rude, battle-hungry being of slaughter with random cloth for decency and a vaguely scythe like haircut. 

...And that’s... Shūhei’s Zanpakutō spirit? Shūhei from the 9th? Who doesn’t particularly enjoy bloodshed, is always ready to help others out and though trying to be edgy is actually very much a goof? That Shūhei?  

That never really clicked with me. 

I mean maybe it’s implied violent tendencies or some random blood thirst deep down but I never felt like we really had any proof for that with Shūhei himself. Though it might’ve very well have gone r/whoosh. I struggle retaining all the information sometimes.

But then I had a fun little thought. 

At his very core, I feel like Hisagi is someone whose just intrinsically helpful. He wants to help, to do whatever he can and to prove himself to others. 

He puts on a tough front and some people fall for it, but he’s actually extremely kind-hearted and a very hard worker. 

Why would his Zanpakutō spirit not share that trait? The trait that’s at his very core.  

Slaughter Demon Kazeshini is a front. A tough looking exterior from a Zanpakutō spirit that really just wants to help its Shinigami with all its heart. 

The moment I saw Shūhei’s Shikai for the first time I actually had to think of Naruto for a moment. And when I pondered what those scythes might actually look like my thoughts returned to that thought: Kamaitachi.  

("Kamaitachi" (鎌鼬) from the Kyōka Hyaku Monogatari by Masasumi Ryūkansaijin)

Kamaitachi are yōkai that resemble weasels with scythe-like front claws riding on dust storms. Now the version I’ve sketched is a ferret because I can’t keep my wiggly guys apart apparently, but also has the scythes more ferret-forearm-area. But Kamaitachi were the inspiration. 

So this little guy is giddy as all hells when the Shikai first happens. Finally he can help his shinigami!! He’ll do his best and they’ll be so cool together and- 

Shūhei looks at his blades in a mix of shock and repulsion. “They look like they reap life itself” 

He hates his shikai. 

Kazeshini is distraught. Why..? Why the hatred for their blades? Fear? He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know _how to help_. But he wants to help! He needs to help! 

And then he gets an idea.

He needs Shūhei to hate _him_. Not the blades. He needs Shūhei to be stubborn, to use these blades and become stronger.  

So Kazeshini comes up with a plan. Shūhei doesn’t know his true form yet. He hasn’t seen the little ferret trying so hard to be a sword spirit he can rely on. And then Kazeshini does what he learned from Shūhei.  

He puts on a front.  

And that front is the rude Slaughter Demon Kazeshini, who never fails to infuriate Shūhei, to infuriate him to want to become stronger. To get Shūhei to show him that his blades can be used for more than death. 

Their Zanpakutō Arc story would be this little communication disaster falling in on itself and Shūhei finally seeing Kazeshini for what he really is and coming to terms with the blades (and himself in a way)

(The initial idea was that Kazeshini sees Hisagi's hatred for a part of himself (Hisagi hating Hisagi I mean) made manifest in the blades and decides to redirect Hisagi's hatred against his own soul toward itself to protect him, but since Zanpakutō spirits in Aeiwam work a little different I thought I'll need that overhaul that a little hehe)

But yeah, there we have it. This has been steeping in my brain soup for a very long time. But I really need to finish Maegawa Backstory before I start anything else haha

[miscfandomwrites]

Mama Chapter Nine

A/N: SO I WANT SOME THIRST and y’all are gonna get it. Just a small hint: the next few chapters will be more action and angst. As usual, if you want to be on the taglist please let me know. Also, sorry for the half-month hiatus, I’m not doing too well in school and mentally. Working on it.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings: Language

Words: 3.4k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“I love you Mom!” was Lillith’s only reply as she ran towards the playground, her red backpack bouncing along with her each of her steps. 

I chuckled as she immediately dumped her backpack on the ground and went for the slides. I stood and watched her for a bit, before turning and getting in my jeep. Per Lillith’s request, she wanted to come to school in my old wrangler. That thing was older than me and that was definitely saying something. 

I started it, feeling the entire frame shake as if my jeep was not in fact, a machine but a living breathing beast that had just woken from a ten-thousand year nap. Damn, this thing needed to be fixed. I hummed along to the radio as I drove back to the tower, enjoying the cool fall morning. 

As much as I hated to admit it (I didn’t hate it) I would miss my kid. She was definitely the light of my life these past few years. It’s a wonder that she’s basically a little human and had thoughts and-Wait, I was starting to dissociate. I turned my focus back onto the road, and was delighted to find that I was less than a block away from the tower, instead of halfway to Poland.

I parked and got out, deciding to work in my workshop rather than face my empty floor. After making sure my phone and other miscellaneous belongings were with me, I headed to my main work area.

Dumping my coat and eventually my shirt on the island, I kept going through and loggin my ammunition. Someone had fucked my systems up, and I had been dutifully working on organizing things. The one thing that really fucking pissed me off was the fact that my experimental batches of my 45 ammo were mixed. It seemed like someone just took the trays and dumped them in a spare ammo can. Like seriously? Every batch had different power and some had different primers and oh-was this frustrating!

I decided that it was better to get rid of them than to deal with having ammunition that wouldn’t work out in the field. I’d rather not rest my or anyone else’s life on defective ammunition. 

I kept muttering to myself about how stupid someone had to be to just mix ammunition without looking at labels as I retrived my old 45 from my gun cabiniet and grabbed some empty magazines. 

I’d used the gun range in my workshop before, but I wanted to see what the tower had to offer, after all it was made of steel and glass. In fact, I was surprised I hadn’t seen the tower’s range yet. 

I took out my personal 45 from its place at the small of my back and replaced it with my old one, and started loading the magazines. Bullet after bullet, magazine after magazine. I was roughly halfway through the box when I decided that two guns would be more fun, and I grabbed one of my thigh holsters and slid my personal 45 in. 

As much as I’d like to not fuck with my concleled carry, I had nothing better to do the rest of the day. I was still figuring out some things as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. went to pay me, and was mostly trying to figure out if I’d need an actual job or not. Besides, I had the parts needed to make another 45 on hand.

I finished loading the magazines and counted them as I placed them back in the ammo can. 

“Seventeen? Damn, I thought there’d be more…” I quietly said as I placed the last one in. I grabbed the can and headed to the elevator, where I asked FRIDAY to take me to the range. 

Not even two minutes later I arrived on the sixtieth floor, which only furthered my anxiety. Glass windows surrounded us on all sides (Although they were mirrored so we could see out, but no one could see in) and there were the standard targets and stalls. Thankfully, most of the team was up here anyway. Steve was talking with Sam and Bucky around a table that held various revolvers, and Natasha was showing Wanda how to hold a handgun properly. I headed over to the boys and set my can down on the table before turning towards the rest of the room, trying to figure out how we could shoot in it.

“What’s in the ammo can?” Sam questioned me as he pulled it over to him. He opened the lid and nodded to me. “Looks like you’re gonna have some fun.” 

I only grinned wolfishly in response. “So, the glass windows won’t break if we shoot them?” I asked Bucky. He nodded as he held one of the revolvers on the table, examining it carefully. 

“Good to know.” I replied as I headed to the farthest range away from everyone. I grabbed a pair of headphones as I walked past Natasha and Wanda, and didn’t stop even as the both turned and stared. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to shoot. To feel the recoil. The cold metal of the handle… The smell of gunpowder. Man, I miss it all. 

I set the can down on the shelf next to me in my stall, and sent my first target down the line. I pulled the 45 out of my back holster first, and grabbed a magazine. Muscle memory had me snapping it in place and sending the slide forward. The metallic click brought me back, and I centered my feet and took up my stance. 

I focused down the sight of the gun to the center of the target and took several breaths, focusing my heartrate and my body. I curled my finger on the trigger and the muffled bam! had me already craving the recoil. 

Breath in, pull. Breath out, pull. Breath, pull, breath, pull, breath, pull….

The same pattern had me going through magazine after magazine after magazine. I paid no mind to the burning hot shells as they occasionally hit my arm, nor did I feel anything besides the recoil and the steady calmness that accompanied it. 

It was only until the seventh magazine  in which I stopped and took a breath. I lowered the now-smoking gun and ejected the magazine, and pulled back the slide and set it on the side table. I stood there for a minute or two before deciding to send the target towards me. 

The target was almost torn in half; I had shot at the midsection of the outline and there was just a huge hole, or rather several smaller ones that made the target almost completely obliterated. 

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N)...” Came Steve’s voice from behind me. 

I turned to see everyone just….staring. What, like this chaos wasn't what Natasha and Barnes inflicted upon the enemy every mission?

I shrugged and took the target down, balling it and tossing it into a nearby bin as I grabbed a second one. 

“I think I should reinforce those windows some…” Stark muttered as I loaded a handgun and stacked more magazines next to me. I sent the new target down the line and I repeated the cycle of emptying the magazines. I swear, next time I’m just going to move everything by myself. Although this is fun. 

Everyone eventually went back to what they were doing before, and before long it was only the boys and I on the floor. Eventually even they left for what I was assuming lunch. I finished emptying the magazines and headed back downstairs, gun oil and the scent of gunpowder sticking to me. Either way, I needed to keep myself moving. Pausing gives time for my anxiety to reappear, so it was better that I keep myself busy.

I set the handguns on the reloading bench as a reminder to clean them later, and restacked the ammo can where it belonged. I turned off the lights and headed up to my floor, skipping lunch. Once there, I changed into a pair of black workout pants with a baggy sleeveless shirt and my pair of running shoes.

Grabbing my water bottle and wireless earbuds, I took the elevator down to the gym floor. The gym floor, or, floors rather, were two floors merged together in the middle. All sorts of expensive exercise machines and weight bars, along with punching bags and mats scattered the space. The middle of the floor had ropes that hung from the ceiling of the second floor and had the largest mat. Thankfully we had a multi billionaire that paid for this place, and Stark went all out with it.

I started with stretching, then moved to the punching bags for a bit, then decided on pull ups. I haven’t really been able to take time out of my day to work out, rather the afternoons and mornings.

That was the great thing about being my own boss-My company was my own. I did a little bit of everything, or as I liked to refer to it: Freelance Hacker / Creator.

Yup. I checked servers for weak points and helped people create websites and platforms. Hell, I even took down a few...unsavory websites when I could. I had my own hours that I adapted as I needed. Especially with Lillith, it was easy for me to look after her when we were at home. 

Shit, I need to clean up the space. I remembered. I stayed up late last night making a draft of a site for a client….which I had to make a meeting with tomorrow. 

I drifted off into my thoughts as I ran through my cycle of sit ups, push ups, pull ups, and bench presses. Twenty per each set, five per each round. Damn, when was the last time I took a self care day? I let my brain sort out ideas and organize my thoughts for a few more minutes before focusing on what I was doing. I finished two rounds before heading over to the left wall and grabbing a pair of heavy chains.

Natasha and Wanda were sparring, with Natasha pushing Wanda back with offensive moves. Hand-to-hand combat wasn’t Maximoff’s strong point, but after insisting from both Strange and I that there might be a point where she would need to use physical combat despite her showing practically limitless magical abilities, she started. 

First it was with both Strange and I, with my abilities making me a bit more resilient to her magic and Strange being….strange. Then her and Natasha started sparring when my long days turned into longer nights, and I’m fairly certain Barnes is taking some part in the cycle. 

I finally watched Wanda get a solid hit on Nat’s torso in, and the assassin didn’t even flinch as she swept Wanda’s legs out from under her. The redhead was panting heavily, her hair tied back in a short ponytail with some hair framing her face. Wearing a black t-shirt and some black leggings, and black tennis shoes (Not going to lie, black looked really good on her). I tore my gaze away, albeit with some difficulty as I turned the mental list of tasks into a digital one on my phone.

After doing that and sipping some water, I used the hem of my shirt to wipe away the sweat on my forehead. Deciding to forego the shirt entirely I peeled it off and tossed it next to my water bottle. Draping the chains over my shoulders and grabbing the bar, I pulled myself up. 

First few rounds of ten were easy, but the added weight of the chains (about twenty pounds, if the labels were correct for each) soon slowed me down. Which was fine, it had my arms and shoulders using more effort than usual. I looked up and was surprised to see both Natasha and Wanda looking at me. Both girls were by the water fountain, Wanda holding her water bottle and phone, and Natasha sipping hers with a towel over one shoulder. If it wasn’t the fact that they both were working out, I would swear that Natasha’s face was red. I could feel the sweat dripping down my chest and stomach, and was eternally grateful for the serum that kept me at a decent four pack.

I winked, and Natasha choked on her water. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she cleared her throat and headed towards me. Wanda stayed there, and started scrolling on her phone again.

She practically sauntered over, and my face slipped into a grin as she stopped right in front of me. Not bothering to pause, I kept going, making sure to keep my chin above the bar when I went up.

She stopped and crossed her arms, smirking at me. I returned her smirk, along with “Anything I can help you with, Ma’am?”

She grinned, before walking straight in front of me. She stopped, not even a half a foot away as I was about to pull myself up again. She gently ran her fingers along the chain of my dog tags, and tugged them out of my sports bra. I kept them in there so they wouldn’t make noise and so I had them close to my heart. 

There were three tags in all on there, two of them being mine. She held the third up to read it and I stayed still, almost stiff as she smiled softly. It was my wife’s tag. 

She let the tags fall back onto my chest and pulled them straight, and as she let go she gently, almost ghosted, her hand over my stomach. I stiffened more, and then dropped from the bar. She backed away a bit as I took the chains off and returned them to their spot on the wall, then as I wiped away the sweat on my face with my discarded shirt.

“I think….” She started as I opened my water bottle. Facing her, I gestured for her to continue. “That is something that is honorable. There’s no other word to say it, but it is. It’s out of love and respect, yes?” She questioned, pointing to the tags. I nodded, setting my water bottle down.

“Hey, do you want to come pick up Lillith from school with me?” I asked her, throwing my shirt over my shoulder and grabbing my water bottle. I checked the time on my phone and tucked it in my pocket. 

“Sure. Can we get coffee?” She said as she walked besides me to the elevators. I selected both of our designated floors as we got in, and we started chatting about my little human. 

Her floor was first, and with a wave and a “I’ll see you in the garage in fifteen minutes” she got off and headed towards wherever her room was. 

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging it out of its ponytail as the elevator stopped at my floor. Getting off, I headed towards my room. Grabbing a pair of black jeans, a black shirt and some new undergarments, I quickly took a shower. Brushed my hair, teeth, and decided on a bit of eyeliner and mascara for the rest of the day. Pulled on some boots and grabbed my black leather jacket, making sure I had everything I needed for heading out. Finally, I grabbed my silver aviators and headed downstairs, before almost tripping over the shoes that littered the front entryway. Damn, my entire floor needed to be cleaned. 

I met Natasha by my car, wearing a white, loose sleeveless tank top and leggings. Along with sneakers. Her hair was damp and down, and she had a black duffle bag over her shoulder.

“Where are we going?” I questioned as I popped the trunk to the challenger. 

“I was hoping you could take me to my studio, if that’s alright.” she said as she shut the trunk lid with her duffle in it. 

“Yeah, that’s no biggie. Coffee first?” I asked, starting the car. 

“Please.” She sighed as she leaned her head against the seats. I smiled and pulled up to the open street. 

We got our iced coffees and I made sure to get a frappuccino and cookie for Lillith, and I drove towards where Natasha said her studio was. 

“I’ll just be about forty minutes. I need to get some stuff done and it might be a bit.” She said as she leaned in the car door frame, her duffle over one shoulder and a hand on the car door.

“That’s fine. I’m going to go pick up Lillith and then I’ll drive back here. Is that alright?” I asked, looking at the redhead. She smiled and nodded, shutting the car door.

I picked up Lillith from school, who excitedly told me that she made not one, but four new friends in her class. Her happy shriek had me laughing as I gave her the frappuccino and cookie. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!” She yelled as she grabbed said drink from my hand. 

“Careful with it please.” I chucked as she quickly sipped on it. She hummed in response, staring out the window.

I shook my head and shifted the car into drive and headed downtown. Not even halfway there, and already….

“Mom I have to go pee” Lillith said, scrunching her nose and the bag the cookie came in.

“Okay. We’re almost there to pick up Natasha and then we can go inside and you can go pee.” I replied as I turned another corner.

I had no idea if her studio had a bathroom, but I had the idea that my toddler couldn’t hold it very long. That girl drank more water than I did, and that was saying something. 

We pulled up and immediately she was getting unbuckled and wiggling her way out of the car. I got out and tucked my keys in my pocket, and helped her out of the car.

I gently kicked the door shut and led Lillith through the doors with a hand on her back, and followed the signs to where the bathroom is. Other than the fact that this place looked completely deserted, it was nice. 

No outstanding decorations, and there was little furniture. An old cork board held flyers and photos of various ballet dancers and activities. I paused at that, remembering what Nat had said that one night.

I dance. 

After having Lillith wash her hands (Which she complained about, but did anyway) we walked around until I found a half wall, half window point.

Lillith was short enough to where she couldn’t see in, but thankfully I wasn’t. It must’ve been a two way mirror, judging by the same pattern around the walls. A set of hip bars in the middle on a hardwood floor, and one of the most beautiful women lightly dancing to music I couldn’t hear.

My grip tightened on Lillith as I took in the sight before me.  Natasha was wearing a black leotard with black tights, and the thing that caught my attention was the shoes. Pink, with the ribbon wrapping around her ankles. The way she moved reminded me of all of the ballet shows I went to in school when I was a kid. There was something majestic about how she moved, how delicate she seemed.

Of course, it was Natasha Romanoff. She may appear delicate, but she’s the complete opposite. 

She turned on her heel and bowed down to the floor, hands barely brushing the wood. She went up, arms gracefully moving out in a way that kept my focus on her. That was, until Lillith yelled at her. 

“HI NATASHA!” She yelled, jumping up and down and aggressively waving at said women. Natasha didn’t start, rather smiled at the small child and waved. 

I facepalmed, dragging my hand down my face as I tried to fight down the flushing of my face.

[televinita]

I am halfway through A Good Girl's Guide to Murder, and the way somebody might want to murder Pipsqueak just to get her to knock it off and stop annoying people has been apparent since episode 2.

(also I know media has warped my perception of teenage appearance but seriously she looks 14?? she looks like the little sister of her friend group) (edit: what do you MEAN she was twenty (21?) when filming this. ???????)

+ One more rant about Pippa: I didn't SUPER love her but I don't remember finding her this bad in the books until at least the second one. However, her obnoxiousness plus the fact I've never seen this actress in anything else has put said actress immediately on the I Don't Like Her Face, Stop Casting Her In Stuff list.

+ The rest of her friend group, however, is very charming and charismatic! Love them. Her two female friends were my least favorite book characters but I love and possibly ship them already here. Also the white guy (I truly cannot remember names) is charming and funny and needs more screentime.

+ I also love her stepfather & brother, just as in the book, and cherish every scene with them. (Her mother is roughly as colorless and forgettable as I remember in the book; I'm not sure if that's good or bad)

+ The sleaze dripping off Max Hastings - while also somehow still retaining enough magnetism that I can understand how he's popular - is incredible; superb casting.

+ A+ casting on the Singh brothers, they are both as charming and different-yet-similar-looking as I imagined them to be in the book.

+ I feel absolute zero romantic chemistry between Pip & Ravi, mostly on account of her being 12 (age downgraded since she's just fully cosplaying Harriet the Spy at this point), but I like them as friends/investigative partners and am really enjoying their scenes.

+ I'm sorry, the sisters' English-teacher dad is THOMAS FROM "GHOSTS"????????? INCREDIBLE.

+ The music is trash.

+ I don't have any specific standout scenes yet but I do wanna say the silver-star cater-waiter costumes were incredible, lmao.

+ So far I feel like it's sticking pretty closely to the book's arc? I haven't looked up for certain, and I definitely wouldn't mind at least one thing being changed** but also, familiarity good so I kind of hope that's true. I love looking at certain characters like, "I know what you are." (rapist. murderer. all that good stuff)

**i swear to god if this show doesn't fix the one book mistake it absolutely MUST improve upon... (leave her dog alone!!)

+ I also feel, so far, that if I wasn't having so much fun watching the book come to life (not least because I read the dumb Americanized version and it's nice seeing how it is actually supposed to play out, school-and-law-enforcement-wise), I don't know if I'd find this the most scintillating show. Despite the shock opening scene, it's kinda slow? While I did give the book series a solid 4 stars, half the book's appeal is its mixed media formatting, I'm sure of that now.

+ However, I remain very pumped that for ONCE, television has adapted a book I not only know but have read and really liked, and with the power of that knowledge I do think this is a solid adaptation overall. We'll see how the second half plays out!

[vivispec]

Happy DADWC!!!! Can I get Viera Lavellan & Iloniyn Lavellan for ❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜?????

i will always take an excuse to write my beloved platonic soulmates <3 here is just a bit of messy vielo, before they get their vallaslin together

@dadrunkwriting Viera & Iloniyn words: 765

“Stop messing with it.”

Viera startled, her hand jumping from her hairline. She hadn’t realized she’d been fidgeting. A wash of heat flashed from ear to ear. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes you were,” Iloniyn interjected, the expression he wore bordering on his characteristic smugness before, eyes rolling to the side, it softened. “Just—come here, you look ridiculous.”

It took her a moment to move, scrutinizing him. Even if they were tael’inan now, soul-same, their childhood wasn’t so far off that she’d forgotten how much fun he’d had at her expense, the goading and teasing. Then again, she hadn’t forgotten all the times she’d paid him back in black and blue below his eye, either. He uncrossed his legs to make room for her and she complied without complaint, tucking her chin against her chest as she scooted in front of him. His fingers began to pry apart the braid she’d ruined, pulling its strands back into place.

“...I am too, you know.” 

Her shoulders tensed at the suggestion in his voice, the thought that he could see through her still a foreign one—deep inside, too, past the impassive mask she’d gotten better at plastering on and into what was actually real, what haunted her. She’d resolved to carry that feeling alone, spoken only in prayer to their Keeper of Secrets, for Dirthamen’s ears and no other. 

Here, it seemed visible enough that he needn’t even speak it, a fact and not a question. It scared her, being seen, more than the pain that was to come did, or the gravity of what came after.

“I’m not afraid of getting my vallaslin.”

“And I saw one of the halla sprout wings earlier,” he snickered. “Now, aren’t we special.”

“I mean it—”

“So do I. It flew and everything.” 

Creators, she would’ve smacked him if the hahren wouldn’t tan her hide in turn. She shoved her hands in her lap instead, fighting the urge to pull away. “I’ll do it. I will, and I won’t flinch.”

“I’m sure. You might want to keep your hands busy until then, though, if you don’t want to look lopsided.”

He punctuated it with a firm tug before smoothing his fingers across its weave, pressing at the base of her skull to tilt her face down, and following the plait further down her neck. It sent a shiver along her spine, somewhere between relief, and unease. In her lap her hands clasped, but the twirling of her thumbs round one another was of little distraction, or comfort. 

“...Do you mean it?”

“The halla? Did a swarm of bees take residence in your head?”

“Not the halla, jackass—the vallaslin. Are you actually afraid, too?”

He scoffed. “Of course I am. Tuath’s bothered enough, that we’re doing this together. The last thing I need is for my flinching to sully our family name.”

That he admitted it so quickly took her aback. “You actually think you’ll flinch?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Her head jerked as he tied the first braid off roughly, picking through the others before choosing one, and undoing it halfway. “Does it matter? My brother got his in two sittings and, yeah, it sucked for a while, but nothing really changed. He’s still a hunter, and our mother got over it. I’ll probably be fine, too.”

She chewed on her lip, and his honesty—she wished she could say it so plainly, too, but the words didn’t want to be seen. Even if it was dark, they felt safer, hidden within her chest. Still, his own candor needn’t be for nothing. She shifted, trying hard not to jostle his handiwork too much.

“If you flinch, I will too.”

“You and mother don’t get along already, I doubt that would help.”

“We’ll be the family disappointment, together. I wouldn’t want to get it without you, anyway,” she pressed, and his hands slowed, until they stopped. Viera looked over her shoulder. “And how would that even work, if we’re a single soul? If one of us got it and the other didn’t, would that only count as half a vallaslin? Might as well play it safe, I figure.”

Had she not heard the rumble emanating from his chest, she might’ve mistook the shaking of his hands woven into her hair for fear. As it was, his laughter only grew. “Alright,” he finally sniffed, “together, then. Proud hunters, or disappointments. Long as it isn’t alone, I think I could live with either.”

“Me too,” Viera said, and found that those fears in the dark had long since fled.

[notquiteaghost]

the other less fun anecdote from this morning's dog walk is. okay, background information 1: my denim jacket has pockets on the outside and then also pockets on the inside. i habitually put my phone in an inside pocket, unless i'm only putting it away briefly, because there's too much other shit in the outside pockets and the phone escapes. i had, in fact, dropped it out my pocket on the dog walk yesterday. this is a cautionary tale about not putting your phone in an outside pocket.

because, background information 2: where i walk the dog in the mornings, we walk up to a big field that's on a hill, and then we walk around that big field and along the top of the hill, and then back down and back to the street and home. this takes roughly 45 mins.

so. this morning, as we got halfway round the bottom of the field, we met a woman with two dogs as she went to cross the middle of the field. stanley barked at her dogs cuz he's a dickhead. we then did our loop, and as we got to the other halfway point, now at the top of the hill, we met her again having sat down just off the path. this is understandable, it's a steep fucking hill.

i went off the path the other way, closer to the fence where there's a lot of knee high grass, so i wouldn't give stanley further opportunity to be a dickhead. we got past her. i gave stanley the treat i'd been using to keep his attention. i checked, habitually, in my pocket for my phone that i'd only put away while we passed this woman so stanley had my full attention.

my phone.

was not there.

i swear. i attempt to retrace our steps through the knee high grass. i am unsuccessful, but i can't actually remember when i last definitely had my phone, and also i can't let stanley off the lead to give looking for my phone my full attention while the woman is still sat there with her dogs. so i retrace my steps further, all the way back down the hill. the path is a narrow dirt track on an incline and bordered by lots of bushes and also the entrances to rabbit warrens. i am confident in my ability to spot my phone if it's in my line of sight but i am increasingly less confident it'll be in my line of sight and not halfway in a rabbit den. also it is very sunny and quite warm out and i am getting fucking sweaty.

i get to the bottom of the hill without seeing my phone. i go back up the hill trying to work out where i'm most likely to have knocked my phone out my pocket and look at those places most thoroughly. we get back to where the woman was without seeing my phone. she is no longer there. i take a moment to scream a bit because there is No One Else Here now and if i don't spot my phone easily i have no way to call my sister to ask for help.

i let stanley off the lead so i can give my full attention to retracing my steps through the knee high grass. i try and be as exact as possible because again. the grass is knee high. i!!! see!!! my phone!!!!!!

i pick it up and make several noises that make stanley bound off and jump at me worriedly. i put him back on the lead. we do not continue along the top of the hill. i do not let go of my phone until we are home. i get home and realise i hadn't even taken my fucking meds yet. my sister tells me the universe is possibly trying to tell me something about putting my phone in an outside jacket pocket.

[zebee-nyx]

CalmWriMo Day 25

[11/25/2023]

Update!

WOOOOO! Less than a week left now! Had a wonderfully calm day where I could just sit around and not do much today. So that was nice. (^v^) Also had some ideas of stuff I'd like to do in the future. So that's exciting. I have a couple of secret projects that I've started that not just consumed, but exceeded my writing time. Still working out how they'll be exactly, but I'm excited and excited=motivation for me so d(^V^)b Is nice!

Progress:

2 Hour Writing Goal: ✅ [smashed this one out of the park today lol (>v<)]

Blurb: [see below]

Self Care:

Food: ✅

Hydration: ✅

Sleep: ✅

Reading: ✅

Blurb: Winter Rose Cafe 482

Winter Rose Cafes are a popular franchise locations across Neocago and other remaining cities across the American northeast. They are famed for the creation of artificial substitute to caffeine that carried them from a single small street corner cafe to the massive corporation it is now. Generally any Winter Rose location serves drinks, light meals, and sweet deserts. Primarily focusing on coffee and tea imitation products. These cafes are known to be a relaxing environment overall with reasonable prices.

A particularly unassuming Winter Rose Cafe, store #482, is located roughly on the edge of the Midcity and Undercity. Normally this would be a tedious and nerve racking location for any franchise owner and their staff. Normally. Through a stroke of luck, 482 and roughly a block radius around it is actually one of the safest places across the Undercity. It so happens to be near the halfway point between a couple of clubs popular with runners, only a block away from a small security firm office, and directly on the border of two warring gangs. Each something that should by all means make this place horribly dangerous. If not for the fact that all these groups have an unspoken truce around the sacred grounds of 482. A truce that if anyone broke, would swiftly be met by an angered and ridiculously heavily armed coalition of caffeine starved vengeance. Naturally no one dares becoming that common enemy so 482 has never had any problems.

It probably helps that this is the only source of caffeine for quite some ways away...

Bonus character fun fact: This is the place that Doc would frequently bring Kori while she was recovering from the immediate effects from her backstory induced trauma. He brought her here because it is a safe place and typically free from the random sounds of gunfire in at least a block radius around the cafe. Also it's where Nat bought the birthday cupcake for Kori. So of course it's Kori's favorite place in general.

[This is mostly just a small location that I made awhile ago to be a common location between stories for characters visit. Also just find it to be a fun place in general, a little light in the dark, lol (^.^). Something about the "no body messes with the guy who pours the drinks" sort of trope is just nice as well. If I ever make a game it will totally be here. Anyways and always, hope you had a lovely day, peace (^.^)v]

[hy-motte]

“In from the Rain”

By: H.Y. Motte

Rain pounded against the tall glass windows as Connor Lange sat alone in the expansive living room of his grandparents’ mountaintop villa. The storm began shortly after nightfall and Connor’s imagination was running wild. Even with the TV on, the whole situation was unsettling. It wasn’t the first time he had to house-sit while his grandparents went travelling to some obscure location, but it was his first time doing it alone. Usually, he’d bring a guy or his friends, or his older sister would stay as well. However, this time, he had no such luck. He was single, his friends were all busy, and his sister was working defense on some big case.

He was alone in a huge house in the mountains.

The facts that he used to play football in college or that he regularly hit the gym did nothing to ease his fears.

The worst part was the storm. When he first drove up to the house, it was only a light drizzle. But, out of nowhere, the sky opened up and buckets of water came pouring down. The thunder shook the windows and the lightning lit up the mountaintop. Connor prayed to every god he could think of that the power wouldn’t go out. His only protection from the ax murderers and psychopaths that Connor believed lurked outside was the fancy security system his grandparents had installed.

Connor switched yet again to the weather channel, hoping to see a report of the storm letting up. Instead, he was greeted by images of flash floods and landslides. He turned off the television.

“Ah, this sucks…” he mumbled to himself. “This is how horror movies start.” He took out his digital SLR camera and laptop to distract himself. A little storm didn’t mean he couldn’t get any work done. He had at least four projects he needed to edit, and he probably had a hundred new photos to sift through. Homecoming season was one of the busiest times at the studio he worked at and he didn’t want to fall behind.

He was about halfway through editing the pimples off a group of high school kids when he heard a loud banging coming from the kitchen. He jumped up, nearly losing both his laptop and his camera, and dashed towards the fireplace. Only when he had an iron poker in hand did he take slow, tiny steps across the room to the kitchen. The banging hadn’t stopped by the time he finally reached the kitchen’s saloon-style door. His hands were shaking and he considered doubling back to call the police instead. 

Boom! 

Thunder rumbled outside and the banging grew louder. Connor slowly peeked over the top of the door. He didn’t see any glass on the floor, but he couldn’t see the window itself. With a tight grip on the poker and a deep breath of resolve, he burst into the kitchen with a battle cry to rival the Vikings. The banging didn’t stop. Slowly, though he’d nearly exhausted his courage, he crept around the counter until he could see the window. His heart stopped when he saw the culprit’s shadow.

A dark, clawed figure was crashing against the window, trying to break in. The figure seemed to be hanging from the roof by its long, thin torso. Its myriad clawed appendages struck the window mercilessly. Its skeletal fingers dangled from each boney limb and blew in the wind like… Connor looked closer.

Like leaves. It was a tree branch.

Even though he was alone, his face flushed with embarrassment as he strode to the back door, cursing under his breath. The tree branch had flown into the roof and tangled itself in the lights lining the overhang. Connor roughly tugged on the branch until it came loose and tossed it in a trash pile near the shed.

Drenched from his short time in the rain, Connor threw off his wet clothes and went upstairs to change. He could hear his sister making fun of him. “Man up, Connor,” he mumbled to himself as he put on a pair of pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. “It’s just a storm. No serial killers would go out in a storm like this….”

Reassured, Connor decided to go back to work and returned downstairs. Before he could even sit down, however, the doorbell rang. The sound echoed through the quiet house over the pelting of the rain. There’s no way a serial killer would ring the doorbell. Right…? Connor thought to himself as he inched towards the door. He peeked through the peephole, but it was too dark to see. He only made out the shadow of a person walking away. Despite his fears, Connor cracked open the door. The shadow belonged to a young man, about the same age as Connor himself, soaked to the bone from being in the rain. His t-shirt and jeans were plastered to his small frame. Upon noticing the door opening, the man turned around. Even in the dim light of the porch, Connor could tell something happened to this man. His deep brown eyes were darting everywhere except Connor’s face.

“Uh, hey. Are you okay?” Connor asked, opening the door fully.

“U-um, sorry to bother you…. I just…. Is there anywhere within walking distance? Like a store or something?” the man asked. His voice was soft and sweet, but it had a hint of fear mixed in. Being stuck on a mountaintop in a storm is pretty terrifying after all.

“Walking distance?” Connor repeated. “No, you have to go back down.” He frowned, his conscience and common-sense battling in this mind. His conscience won. “Did your car break down? You can come in and call AAA or something.”

“Ah, no, it’s okay. I’ll just—“

“No, man, come on. At least dry off a bit.”

The man hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder. Eventually, he stepped inside. “…Thank you.”

In the light, it was clear that the man had been crying. His brown eyes were red and puffy, and his cheek was slightly bruised. Connor also noticed a button missing off the vest he wore over his t-shirt. “H-hey…. Were you attacked?” Connor asked, trying to push back his earlier fears.

“Attacked? N-no, I…I fell,” the man replied, averting his gaze. He was shaking like a leaf. He looked like a frightened rabbit.

“Huh….” Connor was skeptical, but he didn’t press. “Well anyway, why don’t you hang here for a bit? You can dry off or call someone or whatever.” The man didn’t reply. It looked like he was trying to think up an excuse. “Look, I’m not shady or anything! I just…. These mountains are rough in the rain, so I can’t just let you wander around on foot like that. You might fall again.”

The man nodded slowly, wrapping himself in his arms. “Thanks…” he whispered.

“No problem. Oh, hey, lemme get you a towel. Hang on.” Connor ran upstairs and pulled a large towel from the closet. When he returned to the entryway, he draped the towel over his guest’s shoulders. “Do you wanna shower? Or eat? Oh, I’m Connor, by the way,” the host rambled awkwardly. He had to bite his tongue to keep from offering up his grandparents’ jewelry next.

“I’m Ryan. And, um, I’ll just call someone and get out of your hair.” Ryan reached into his back pocket, but a look of dread filled his face. “Huh? Wait….” He checked every pocket before hiding his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this…” he groaned.

“Oh, here, you can use mine!” Connor offered, quickly pulling out his smart phone.

“I-I don’t know any numbers by heart…” Ryan admitted between sniffles. He was crying.

“Oh, hey, me either! Who would have thought convenience was bad, right? Haha…” Connor joked. His joke didn’t seem to cheer his guest up. Ryan only sunk to the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “U-uh, Ryan, hey…. Don’t worry. I can’t really drive around here well in the rain, but once it clears up, I’ll take you down, or to your car, or we can look around for your phone. Did you have somewhere to be?”

“No…. I-I was just here…” Ryan mumbled into his hands.

“Well, then you can be ‘just here’ until the storm lets up, right?”

Ryan nodded and lifted his head. Tears left lines down his flushed cheeks, but he managed a small smile. “Thanks again…. And sorry. I’m not usually like this….” The tiny smile revealed a dimple on one cheek.

He’s really cute… Connor thought, immediately ashamed he was thinking with the wrong head in a situation like this.

“You look like you’ve had a bad day.”

“Kind of….” Ryan stood and wiped his face on the towel. “If it’s really no trouble, I’ll take you up on that shower.”

“No trouble at all! I can lend you something to wear while your clothes dry, too.”

“Are you always this nice to strangers?” Ryan asked as he peeled off his soaked Converse.

“Only the ones crying on the doorstep,” Connor teased. “Besides, you don’t look like a psychopath.”

“Don’t psychopaths look like everyone else?”

“Huh? I-I guess. I never thought about that….”

Ryan let out a soft laugh. “I’m not a psychopath, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Connor replied with a smile. “I doubt psychopaths would lose their phones.”

****

It had been nearly an hour since Connor left his new guest, Ryan, to take his shower. He’d explained how to work the shower somewhat excessively and left a pair of pajama pants and a button-down shirt. While he waited, he couldn’t help wondering what Ryan was hiding and why he was hiding it. Was he actually attacked? Is he running from something? Is he really just clumsy?

Connor couldn’t concentrate on his work, so he decided to check on his guest. His hand was hovering over the bathroom door, ready to knock, when it opened. A cloud of steam hit Connor in the face and a startled gasp sounded from inside the cloud. “I was just making sure you were okay,” Connor explained.

“Oh, uh, I’m fine… but these pajamas don’t really fit…” Ryan replied sheepishly. Once the steam cleared, Connor saw what he meant. The sleeves of the button-down shirt reached past Ryan’s knuckles and he kept trying to roll them up. The shirt itself looked more like a dress on him, which made sense since he was over a head shorter than Connor’s six feet and four inches. And the pants…. “The pants didn’t have a string, so….”

So, you just didn’t wear them? Connor thought, examining the doorframe rather than his half naked guest. Ryan was tugging on the bottom of the shirt to try and cover his bare legs. Connor shook his head. “Sorry, I’ll get you something else. Hang on.” He went to his bedroom and dug through a drawer until he found a tank top and basketball shorts. He double checked for the drawstring.

“Thanks,” Ryan said when Connor handed him the new clothes. He stepped into the shorts right away. They seemed to fit.

As he changed shirts, Connor saw that his guest had more than just the one bruise. His slender torso was dotted with dark spots and he wore a bracelet of purple around his upper arm. Is he really okay? Maybe I should call the police… Connor thought as Ryan dressed. “U-uh, hey,” Connor began. He wanted to ask about the bruises, but something in the other man’s eyes stopped him. “I’ll, um, I’ll throw your clothes in the wash. I have some wet clothes sitting around, too.”

“Oh, uh, thanks…” Ryan relied, retrieving his wet clothes. “I tried to squeeze out the water, but they’re still pretty wet.”

“Yeah, I bet. I was out there for five minutes and I got soaked too.” Connor took the clothes down to the laundry room after showing his guest to the living room. His own clothes were still on the kitchen floor, so he used snacks and drinks as a cover to smuggle them out.

When he returned to the living room, he found Ryan flipping through one of the photo albums he used as a portfolio. Some of the photos were out of place and Ryan was trying to find their proper slot. “Don’t worry about it,” Connor told him as he approached the couch.

Ryan jumped at the sudden voice. “Ah, oh, um, I’m sorry!” he stammered. “Your bag fell and all these pictures fell out, and…” His hands were shaking as he continued to try and organize the photos.

“It’s okay, really. Those fall out all the time,” Connor reassured his guest, sitting next to him on the couch. He lightly touched his hand to Ryan’s as he reached for his binder.

Ryan pulled his hands away and balled them into fists in his lap. “O-oh… Um, are you a photographer? These are really good,” he commented softly.

Connor grinned. He always liked to be complimented for his work. “Thanks. Yeah, I work at, uh, Happy Smiles. The name is pretty lame, but I like the studio. I do some freelance stuff, too. Like parties and weddings.”

“I got my graduation pictures done at Happy Smiles,” Ryan commented as he relaxed a bit. He leaned forward and looked through the portfolio again. “You even do photoshoots for models?”

“Well for their portfolios, yeah. Then they go to an agency.” Connor paused, meaning to end the topic there, but he continued without thinking, “Have you ever modeled? You’re pretty enough for it. You’re body’s not bad either. A little skinny…” Connor rambled. He didn’t realize what he was saying until his companion’s face flushed red.

“I, um, a little,” Ryan replied sheepishly, staring down at his knees. “I helped the photography and art classes when I was in college. It was an easy twenty bucks.”

“Sorry, that came out way creepier than it should have…”

Ryan let out a soft laugh. “It’s okay. I was just surprised. I act, actually. Just at this small theater downtown, nothing big…. So, I’m used to… strange comments.”

“Acting? What kind of plays?”

“Usually kids’ shows…. But sometimes we do Shakespeare or musicals. Next week, we open Beauty and the Beast. I’m just one of the servants though.”

“Nice, maybe I’ll go check you ou—check it out. The play,” Connor stumbled.

Ryan laughed. “I have a boyfriend, you know.” He continued to smile, but as he spoke, the mirth left his eyes.

“I’m not trying to hit on you, I promise.” Connor cursed his lack of social skills. “I’m just not good at making conversation,” he joked. Out of the corner of his eye, the photographer noticed headlights pulling up to the house. “Wow, I’m popular tonight,” he muttered as he went to the front window, happy for the distraction from his poor conversation skills. Outside, the headlights of a small pickup truck floated up the driveway. He turned to his guest. “Hey, do you know anyone with a pickup truck? I can’t tell what make or…” he trailed off when he saw Ryan, wide-eyed and shaking, staring at the window.

Dread painted Ryan’s face as he rose from the couch. “P-please, don’t answer the door….”

“Why? Who’s that? A serial killer?” Connor questioned, closing the curtains and retreating back to the couch and reaching for his fire poker.

“No… that’s…. It might be my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend? What, did he sense someone hitting on you?” Connor asked, hoping to lighten the mood. But he only made the situation worse. Ryan looked like he was going to start crying again.

Ryan’s voice was shaking as he murmured, “I-I’m sorry, I lied…. I came up here with him, but….”

Connor’s voice darkened as the truth behind the bruises began to come to light. “Did he hurt you?” Ryan looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Should I call the police?”

“No! No, please don’t. He didn’t… I-it was my fau—" Ryan tried to explain. He was cut off by the doorbell.

“Just go into the kitchen. I’ll tell him you’re not here,” Connor instructed over the obnoxious ringing. Before his guest could object, he shoved him towards the kitchen.

Once Ryan was safely hidden, Connor went to the door. “One time is enough,” he snapped as he opened the door. He didn’t plan on showing his new visitor an ounce of hospitality. The man Ryan feared was his boyfriend was handsome, with neatly styled hair under the hood of his black hoodie and a close-shaven beard covering his cheeks and chin. Even through the hoodie, Connor could tell this man definitely frequented a gym.

“Yeah, sorry…. But I’m looking for someone. I’m worried he might be hurt.” The man’s voice was soft and apologetic, but the slate gray eyes scanning the room behind Connor looked more like a wolf hunting prey. “His name’s Ryan.”

“You’re the only one that’s dropped by.” Connor lied. “You can’t get a hold of him?”

“No, he left his phone in my truck….”

“Well, shit. If he’s on foot, you should call the cops. He might have slipped and fell.”

“Maybe—hey, do you wear Converse?” the man suddenly asked. A glint of anger flashed in his steel eyes.

“What? No, I—“ Connor blurted. Then, he remembered Ryan’s shoes. “I-I mean, I do sometimes.”

“Where is he!?” the man yelled, grabbing the front of Connor’s shirt.

“C-calm down, bro,” Connor pled, raising his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking—“

“Those shoes belong to my boyfriend! So, he must be here,” the man interrupted. “Ryan! Where are you?” He pushed Connor into the house and stepped in, still holding the shirt.

“I’m telling you, he’s not here!” Connor objected, trying to push the intruder away.

“Liar!” Ryan’s boyfriend let go of Connor’s shirt and threw a punch, knocking him to the ground. Connor’s ears were ringing and he couldn’t hear the rest of the man’s accusations. He only saw his fist rise into the air for a second blow.

“…op!” a voice called from behind as Connor’s hearing returned. “Jake, please, stop!” Ryan had emerged from the kitchen and stood between the two men.

“Ryan? The hell are you wearing?” Jake asked, his gaze still burning with rage.

“I just borrowed some clothes….”

“Did you fuck him?”

“What? No! Jake—" Ryan was cut off by the back of Jake’s hand. The blow sent him reeling to the floor.

Connor jumped up and pulled Ryan towards him. “Listen, asshole, if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, I’m gonna call the cops.”

“So, I’m not good enough for you?” Jake bellowed, ignoring Connor. “You just toss me aside and find a new cock to blow, you little slut?!”

“N-no, I just…” Ryan sobbed, blood trickling from his broken lip.

Connor tried to step in again, but Jake only shoved him aside to grab Ryan’s arm. “Just what? Don’t fucking lie! Just cozied up to some stranger? Or have you been cheating on me with this fucker?!”

“I’m not cheating on you, Jake! Just listen to me!”

Slap! Ryan’s cheek glowed bright red where Jake’s hand made contact. Connor couldn’t hold back any longer. He lunged forward and put all his weight behind a punch to Jake’s face. The intruder let go of Ryan and stumbled back towards the open door. Connor swung at him again, this time hitting the intruder’s ear and knocking him down. He didn’t know what came over him. He punched Jake again, straddling the man to hold him down. This time he heard a crunch. “Guys like you make me sick!” he shouted, ignoring the pain stinging his knuckles. “How can you treat someone like this?”

“Connor! Stop!” Ryan screamed, clutching the arm of his boyfriend’s assailant. “Get off him!”

Connor stood, panting, his hands dripping blood. “Why are you defending him?” he rasped.

Ryan knelt next to his boyfriend and ran a finger over a swollen, bloodied cheek. “I loved him…. He wasn’t always like this. He used to be nice to me. He works set in the theater, and he always brought me coffee or snacks during rehearsal and gave me flowers after every show….” Ryan paused, tears streaming down his cheeks once more. “But all of a sudden, he stopped seeing his therapist and he started losing his temper more. I-I told him, the first time he hit me, that… that I’d leave him. But, I couldn’t do it….”

Connor had so many questions, but he couldn’t form a single one. Now that he’d calmed down, his hands were throbbing. He could only force out a mumbled apology.

“No… I guess, he kind of deserved some of this…” Ryan said through a forced smile. “You should put ice on your hands.”

“Huh? Oh… Yeah, maybe. Thanks. I-I’ll call an ambulance. You can tell them whatever you want,” Connor told Ryan.

“Thank you. I’m glad yours was the house I found.”

Connor smiled in response and headed to the kitchen. He carefully pulled out his phone, avoiding as many hand movements as possible, and dialed 911. He explained the situation as vaguely as he could and hung up immediately after to avoid more questions. As he was balancing an ice pack on his hand and grabbing a wet towel for his victim, he heard shouting from the other room.

“Hey, Ryan, you okay?” he called, rushing out to the entryway. “Ryan?”

Empty.

The front door was wide open and both Ryan and his boyfriend had disappeared. Connor sprinted outside to see Ryan fighting as Jake tried to shove him into the passenger side of his old pickup. Its blue paint was peeling off revealing the rust spots underneath. Rain was still falling in buckets, so Ryan couldn’t push against the truck without his bare feet slipping off the side. His hands were clawing at his abuser’s arm as it slipped dangerously close to his throat. Connor took a calming breath and strode toward the truck.

“Hey, douchebag. Let him go.”

“This was none of your fucking business,” Jake screeched, pausing his attempt to stuff Ryan into the truck. “You have no right—" He was interrupted by a sudden push against his chest. Ryan had used the distraction to find a foothold and push off from the car. The sudden push forced Jack to step back, which in turn led him to slip on the wet stone driveway. Both Jake and Ryan were sent tumbling backwards. As soon as they hit the ground Ryan scrambled off his boyfriend.

“You have no right to hit me,” Ryan argued. “I won’t do this anymore, Jake!” He wasn’t crying anymore, but there was pain in his eyes.

“You can’t…. I won’t let you leave,” Jake groaned from the ground.

“I called the cops, they should be here soon. So you can either drive away on your own, or they can drive for you,” Connor explained calmly, relieved to see Ryan fighting. Jake slowly rose on wobbly legs. He was clearly in no condition to drive. He would never make it safely down the waterlogged mountain paths. “Wait…. Maybe you should go to the hospital…” Connor suggested, his conscience getting the better of him once again.

“Fuck you,” Jake spat. “And fuck you, too, Ryan. You’re gonna regret this.” He hobbled to his truck and braced himself against it until he reached the driver’s side. Connor and Ryan only watched as the man climbed in and tried to start his car. For some reason, he was frantically searching for something.

A soft chuckle sounded from Connor’s side. “I pulled his keys out of his pocket when he carried me out here,” Ryan admitted. “They’re somewhere in the grass now.”

“Guess you didn’t need my help,” Connor replied, grinning.

The truck door flung open and Jake stumbled into the rain again. “Where are my fucking keys!?”

“How should I know?”” Ryan commented defiantly, the smile gone from his face.

“You took them, didn’t you, bitch?” Jake accused, limping forward.

Ryan backed away, still afraid of his abusive boyfriend despite the brave façade. “You probably lost them.”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but was stopped short by the whine of approaching sirens.

“Looks like your ride’s here,” Connor announced.

Within seconds, an ambulance followed by a police car pulled up behind Jake’s truck. “You little bitch!” Jake shrieked. “You’re really gonna let me get arrested? After all I’ve done for you?”

“No…” Ryan started, his eyes downcast.

“Ryan, wait, you—" Connor objected, but Ryan touched his hand to stop him.

“I’m going to let you get arrested for all you’ve done to me, Jake,” he continued, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

Connor heaved a sigh of relief as the paramedics and police officers descended upon the scene. Jake’s wounds were immediately tended to and Ryan began explaining the situation to a female officer. He seemed hesitant at first, but told the story nevertheless.

According to Ryan, he was on a date and Jake decided he wanted to go for a drive after dinner. Once they were alone in the mountains, Jake tried to pressure him into sex and Ryan refused. In response, Jake became violent and tried to force him instead. During the fight, Ryan managed to escape and ran until he discovered the villa.

Connor told another officer his take on what happened, only slightly playing up his actions. When they both finished, Jake was taken away in a patrol car. The female officer adamantly sided with Ryan while the other officers tried to claim both parties were in the wrong.

Once the police and Jake were gone, Ryan fished around in the truck. I guess he can go home now… Connor realized as he watched from the porch. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle during the questioning and there was no more reason for Ryan to stay. Connor poorly hid his disappointment at the thought.

After a while, Ryan joined Connor on the porch. “I found my phone,” he announced with a smile. “It’s just about dead though….”

“If you want, you can use my charger before you go,” Connor offered.

“Oh, thanks…” Ryan replied, sounding disheartened. “Um, are my clothes dry by any chance? I got soaked again,” he asked with a weak laugh.

“I doubt it, I never put them in the dryer. But if you’re in no rush, you’re welcome to stay the night.”

Ryan flushed red. “I, uh, I don’t really….”

“I don’t mean like that! Get your mind out of the gutter, man,” Connor replied, his own face growing slightly warmer. “Just to crash.”

Ryan let out an embarrassed giggle. “Ah, right, sorry…. Well, if it’s okay with you…. I’m a little tired to drive.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind the company. A huge empty house in the mountains is scary as hell,” Connor joked.

***

The next day, Connor awoke to a bright beam of sunlight shining through the curtains of his bedroom. He and Ryan stayed up a while after the police left with Jake. They talked about the storm, photography, acting, current events and celebrities. The farther the conversation drew from earlier events, the happier the pair became. It was past midnight before they finally retired to bed.

Once he dressed, Connor peeked into the spare room he cleaned for his guest. The bed was neatly made and empty. “Did he just leave…” he wondered dejectedly. He looked out the window down to the driveway. The truck was still there. “Ryan?” he called as he headed downstairs. He checked the dryer and found Ryan’s clothes still inside.

“Good morning, Connor,” a cheery voice spoke from behind, nearly giving Connor a heart attack as he emptied the dryer.

“Jesus! Were you hiding or something?”

“Sorry,” Ryan apologized with a giggle. “No, I was just watching TV. I woke up kind of early. The police called.”

“D’you have to go down there?”

“I will later, I guess…. I was just waiting for you to get up.”

“You could’ve woken me…” Connor muttered, separating his clothes from Ryan’s.

Ryan pouted. “Someone’s grumpy in the morning….” He accepted his clothes and stood in silence for a moment, chewing his lip. “Um, do you wanna grab breakfast somewhere?”

“Are you asking me out?” Connor joked with a raised eyebrow.

“No! No, I, um, I didn’t mean it like that, really. I just want to, uh, repay you for helping me….” Ryan’s cheeks flushed pink as he fidgeted with his shirt.

Connor laughed. “Well, date or not, I’m not gonna turn down free food.”

The other man beamed brightly in response. “Okay! I’ll go change then.”

Connor watched Ryan rush upstairs. He was definitely cuter with a smile and Connor decided he wanted to do whatever he could to keep it there.

[mdrewjackson]

Tomorrow we start off on the Via Francigena. It’s an ancient pilgrimage route from Canterbury, England to Rome, covering 2,000+ kms through France, Switzerland, and Italy.

(Fun fact: In the Middle Ages, there were three main pilgrimage destinations: Jerusalem, Rome, and Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Having walked a couple of routes to Santiago and loved the experience, we thought let’s try a route to Rome.)

We aim to bike for two weeks from Canterbury to Besançon in eastern France, then walk for three weeks through the Swiss Alps to Aosta just across the Italian border. That’s roughly the halfway point of the Via Francigena.

Today was a warmup sampler, ferrying from Calais to Dover and then biking to Canterbury. It was only 35 kms but man, it was kinda gruelling. Our rented bikes weren’t really up to the country walking paths that made up half of today’s route, the wind was 50+ km/hr, and one of us (um, that would be me) took a spill along a rutted single track into a fence. I had a lump on my arm the size of a kiwi and couldn’t squeeze my hand without grimacing. We staggered into Canterbury, bruised and windswept. #humbledbutthankful

[riku-in-japan]

Day 2 Mt.Takao

Best activity one day after you arrived in Japan after a 14 hour flight... Climbing a mountain of course! Mt. Takao is roughly an hour (and 410 yen) away from my brother's place, so... This was really the most convenient moment to schedule the visit.

This time around I decided to go up via trail No.6 and go down via trail No.1. I also circled about half of trail No.5 and walked halfway to Shiroyama before turning around... I do not remember all those stairs! Nor the toilets! I actually worried I wasn't on the right trail at all, but I guess a lot has just changed in the last few years. I got so tired of all the stairs I didn't go all the way to Shiroyama as I had originally planned.

Trail 6 was still the same as ever, very pretty. Although I most certainly did not remember it started that far out of the way. But walking straight through the river was fun.

Trail 1 was... Very pretty along the upper part, but the lower bit is really just a pretty steep hardened road. I wish I had taken trail 2 when I could and crossed back to trail 6, because apparently that's possible according to the signposts. (Even though each and every map of the area claims otherwise)

I had planned to visit Takao Onsen afterwards, but... They were closed! Apparently something broke yesterday, so they could not open today. It seems they will be open again tomorrow, but... Only the inside bath, not the outside baths, or something? I'm somehow glad I only discovered this fact after a full day of hiking, otherwise I would have been bummed all day long.

Anyway, I still really love visiting Mt. Takao. Well, more hiking to come in the next few days! In less familiar places this time.