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sicksucculentz · 2 years ago

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Even more treehorn Zane head cannons!

It's shocking to find out but he smells!. He's a little bit smelly. He always has this weird musty smell, like old laundry left in the washer too long. He used to smell very mildewy before his death. Initially one can smell it but after a short period of time you go nose blind to it. Water tends to become trapped inside his abdominal cavity and as machines do the mechanics working inside generate a slight amount of heat. It’s dark and warm in there so it becomes a breeding ground for mildew and mold.

He does eat and he does sleep. He will have meals here and there but he's mostly just snacking to taste. He really like sweets, fruit, and breads. There's no question he will consume meat and he's not opposed to it he just doesn't really like the taste or the texture. He will hurt someone to eat plantains, he just LOVES those things. He can still cook and very well at that. He wasn't very good from the start but he quickly learned as time went on, the wonders of an evolving learning programming.

He sleeps ALL the time. He takes naps as well and will even join a little cuddle pile to conk out. It's not out of the normal for Zane to take naps on others. It's not meant to be romantic or anything he just likes being close to his brothers. Like a great big dumb dog that just wants attention. Not out of the ordinary for him to sneak into the others rooms and cuddle into them. He does it Wu as well. He’s not trying to be creepy or gross he’s just lonely. He’s technically a herd animal so being in groups or at lest paired with another person is a must. This is how ‘the slumber grumper’ is seen so often, a face he makes out of anger when woken up

He's not supposed to but he does something his team calls "numbing". What this means is that he opens the door on his abdomen, reaches inside, and begins messing with vital wires. This causes a small electrical zip zap that feels good to him. You know how you brush your hair after not brushing it for a long time? that's kind of what it feels like to him when he does this. It's not good for his system and body which is why the others stop him from doing it all the time. Only him or other nindroids can do this. If a mor organic creature were to do this they would be seriously electrocuted and wind up in the ER.

Very petable. His hair is made from some strange soft synthetic material that makes it easy for someone to pet his head. It has a calming effect on those that pet. It's a little weird and awkward but once your used to it it's very nice. Kai wont pet him though. He thinks that a weird thing to do to another man. He's not homophobic or anything he just thinks it's a little weird.

He's actually pansexual with a more female lean. His partner, Pixal used to be a male nindroid. Borg made a male nindroid then helped transition her to a female later on. This is something Pixal doesn't hide but she doesn't scream it to the world either. She doesn't want to be treated any different so she just kind of keeps it too herself unless someone asks. Zane doesn't care, he loves her for her. Pixal and Zane often share a bed. I say often because Zane will just up and decide to sleep outside or somewhere else for some space. It's not supposed to hurt Pixal's feelings or indicative of a fight, he just fucks off sometimes to spend time by himself.

It's also not uncommon for Zane to up and run off for a little while. He runs off into the wilderness to run wild. The team doesn't like it when he does that because they might need him on a mission and that has happened. They worry about him, worry that he might just not come home at all.

He does a lot of completely normal human things. Reading, cooking, drawing, coloring, crafting, working out, sparring, video games, writing, and even archery. For someone that doesn't speak his writing voice is amazing! very fluid and full of personal quarks with an articulate air. He written research papers and articles that got quite a bit of attention. Jay has a copy of his work, he brags about it to the classes he teaches. He reads anything from information books, to memoirs, to young teens books, to comic books and magazines. Lloyd introduced him to his own personal action comic books, that quickly turned into long nights of snacks, kicked back on bean bags and beds, and pouring over the pages and story lines.

Drugs have an effect on him. It takes a little more than normal to take effect. Things like weed, melatonin, etc can affect him. He's accidently gotten high before, and he liked it. Cole is a little bit of a pot head but he's the type to just keep it to himself. He makes very good pot brownies. He left them out to cool for just a couple minutes while he went to bathroom. He came back to find Zane munching on his 3rd damn sqaure. Cole monitored him for the day but Zane never panicked and later even tried to get ahold of more but Cole shut that down.

This AU is sort of like an AU inside of an AU. In this AU Morro and Lloyd are sharing a body. It's completely consensual. Morro tucks himself away inside of Lloyd's head a lot of the time but he will front sometimes. Zane has a grudge against Morro and actively shows his distain. Lloyd could be sitting next to Zane and Morro switches in, Zane just gets up to leave the room.

His room actually has a cool tire swing. It’s a fairly new, thick tire that it turned on it’s side with the rope attached to three points on the tire then securely attached to the ceiling. He spends a lot of time rocking around on it. He had book shelves, a desk, and a bed just like normal. He has a nice perch for his falcon right next to the window which is always open. He has a rack on the wall for his beloved bow. He loves archery and he loves his bow. He also loves his bird and has been seen cuddling his bird like a stuffed animal while he sleeps. He's always using his powers to make the room cold, almost completely unbearable to a normal human.

He almost never wears a damn shirt. He's always running around with no top. To him, a more polar animal, it's quite hot so he's always cooling off. One can see his ribs but this is because his rib cage is made a little bit wider than a normal human. His abdominal door outline can be seen all the time.

He was never truly made to be a wild animal so his teeth are mostly for show and not very sharp. They look just like a normal human dental set up with tiny pointed k9 teeth, molars, and incisors. He has 32 teeth in total, The average tooth count for humans.

Zane reacts differently to other animals. It all depends on the body language of the animal sense that's how animals communicate with each other. Happy dogs? friendly cats? chatty birds he will mirror it to convey he's a friend. He's good around other animals, likely more so than humans and other nindroids.

Of course living around treehorns for 13-15 years he has complied all the different noises and calls treehorns make. His regions treehorns have a very very loud distress calls. There are treehorns in different regions but the polar treehorns have the loudest distress calls. These treehorns experience blizzards so they need to be heard over the noise of a blizzard. They are around the volume of a train horn. Zane is a pain in the ass and will sound this call off at the ass crack of the morning just to be a jerk. His friends don't want to actually hurt him but of course they are pissed! so they throw balled up socks, hats, pillows, etc at him to get him to shut up.

He's known to have nightmares sometimes. Weirdly he doesn't use a treehorn distress call but he wails like a man being murdered. It's chilling to hear him wailing in the middle of the night. He ends up waking up at lest 3 people who quickly rush to check on him. He never just screams like that for no reason so even Wu is there to check up. He meditates after these nightmares. He climbs up to the roof or somewhere high up and just meditates for a while.

He was aged about 16-17 years old when Wu found him. He only got to spend about one year with his father before his father vanished. Thats 15-14 years living with wild animals. Needless to say he will NEVER truly be normal but normal is so arbitrary. That is also 15-14 years of being mute! He’s still technically considered to be mute but more mute by choice. He can speak through ASL and morse code if he wanted to as well. The whole ninja team actually knows ASL! They integrated it in to speak to each other without out having to use their voice and give away their presence. Wasn’t even Wu’s idea, it was Lloyd’s. They sign their colors instead of their names. Names have to be finger spelled out and can take a while, colors on the other hand have quick singular motions and flow faster.

He can swim! Of course he can. As cannon Zane he can spend forever underwater. He loves to swim! Always tootin around in the water.

He holds hands!! In weird situations to. He could be at the pool and just start holding someones hand while they are trying to swim. Trying to do something, he’s trying to hold a hand. Your mad at him? He try to hold your hand.

Dispite having a hard time with communication and being around people he has in fact been hired on a few jobs! He will 100% earn his own money. These jobs have mostly been small paid favors like years work, construction, paper work, and even a few guard jobs. He’s also been a delivery boy, animal care taker, and shelf stocker. Normally he wouldn’t be hired on given his massive speech problem((severe selective mutism)) but he’s recommended to the people hiring and, of course because he’s a nindroid he has an easier time getting hired. Companies like that he dosent need to sleep or eat and can have him on a 24 hour shift. He does come with a warning that companies are legally obliged to follow: “do not approach rapidly and do not come within at lest 1 foot when communicating”.

Nindroids have a number based system to classify the threat level of a nindroid. It’s not always accurate but from 1-7 one being the most dangerous and in need of constant monitoring and 7 being no threat at all. Due to his feral nature Zane ranks at a 3. It would be higher but because he gives fair warning before he lashes out the number is lower.

He’s not ashamed to do so but yes he has had meltdowns. He’s gotten violent before but it’s never scary it’s just downright crushing to see. It lasts about 20 minutes to half an hour. Most of the time he just starts crying and can’t stop. Other times he will punch a wall, flip a table, dent something, maybe yell. He threw a chair across the room once and the leg stuck right into the wall. He NEVER ever hurts his team mates though and they know he wont. Once he starts getting violent the others are perfectly safe to run over and restrain him by hugging his arms to his sides. He dosent fight back, just sobs for a while. The meltdowns stem from different things like fighting that programming that causes him to act like an animal, the constant threats to the city and to his life, and his identity issues.

He’s more self aware than he leads on. He knows he’s not a treehorn but he knows he’s not a human as well. Other nindroids never get along with him so he’s left with his “what am I?” Burning a pit in his emotions.

He’s excellent at communication with other animals. It’s pretty neat to watch him work, how he so fluidly understands and how quickly he can make an animal friend

#ninjago zane #ninjago headcanons #littlest treehorn #ninjago littlest treehorn #ninjago feral zane

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

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@damianwayneweek Day 3 (6-15): “That wasn’t supposed to happen” | Reconciling with Tim | Autistic!Damian

Note: at this point, this is just "Damian cries and Dick hugs him" week. Someone send help. I love these two so much.

Warnings: angst and tears and Damian being a ball of separation anxiety.

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The smell of sea salt mixed with the pollution of Gotham's coast is almost close to nauseating. If Damian hadn't already been feeling anxious and sick to his stomach, he would definitely be now.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know why.

It's been this way all night. It started before tonight, even. He's convinced himself it's probably something he had for lunch, but even a child would know that's a weak grasping of straws. No one ever gets sick from the food made in the Wayne Manor, not when Alfred is there to cook it.

But he tells himself it's because of that anyways. He feels sick to his stomach because the lettuce in his sandwich must have been old. Not for any other reason. And certainly not because his father has been off-world for the past month and Richard is once again holding the mantle of Batman while he's away.

"What do you say about heading home early?" Richard asks from where he stands besides Damian. The word home grates on Damians nerves for reasons that he... cannot bring himself to comprehend.

Damian nods his head, not saying anything. It's been a quiet night in Gotham anyways. His nerves feel fried from the constant anxiety pressing in his chest and he's sure the moment he gets to his bed he'll pass out.

Or at least stare blankly at the ceiling until he does.

The ride back to the manor is silent between Damian and Richard. Almost a month ago, it used to be loud with banter whenever he and Richard had a minute to themselves. They'd get back at the manor and Alfred would be there to pester them into taking care of themselves. Cassandra and Duke would enter and leave as they wished with the occasional appearances of Timothy and Jason. The only time they had to themselves was inside the batmobile, as there's not much private banter you can have while defending the streets either.

But it's silent now. Damian's chest and stomach hurts and no words seem to want to come to his throat, but he's not usually the one to start the conversations anyways. Something is keeping Richard silent as well. The thought that, for whatever reason, Richard doesn't want to talk to him makes his anxiety spike just the same as the thought of conversation.

It feels like the second they pull into the cave Damian's jumping out of the car and stalking towards the changing rooms. Alfred let's him stride past, lifting an eyebrow as he does, but he doesn't stop him. Alfred simply walks over towards Richard and offers him a cup of tea from the metal tray he's been holding.

Damian can hear the low rumble of words beginning to be exchanged between the two, but he's already too far away to make sense of them. He doesn't care to listen anyways. He just wants to get dressed and go to bed without anyone talking to him.

Without anyone asking him what's wrong. They must notice something is wrong, right? What would he say if they do ask? No. No one knows anything is wrong. Because nothing is wrong. Everything is okay.

He dresses into a clean pair of pajamas that feel fresh from the dryer and heads straight towards the exit of the batcave, not sparing Richard or Alfred a glance as he does so.

Everything is okay. He ate something bad for lunch.

That's all.

He manages to get all the way to his bedroom without running into anyone. Cassandra and Duke must be busy tonight, and he can't think of any reason why Timothy and Jason would be here at this hour of night. It's not surprising he didn't run into anyone. Why does he almost wish he had?

He shakes his head and closes the door behind him. Whatever is making him feel this way, it will go away if he rests. He's sure of it.

Wordlessly and single-mindedly, he removes the decorative pillows from his bed and pulls down the sheets. In a few practiced and fluid movements, he's under the covers and glaring at the ceiling, his stomach clenching.

There's glow in the dark stars above him, made of plastic and held to the ceiling with fun-tak. His eyes drift to a bigger glowing figure, it's circular and there's swirling patterns that mimic the global storm of Jupiter's surface. Another has two rings, like the planet in Treasure Planet.

Richard put them up the second month after Damian first came here. Damian had expressed... desires... to study and learn how kids who weren't raised in the League of Assassins lived. Glow in the dark stars was something Richard very much enjoyed getting off of Amazon that night, saying they were all the craze when he was younger. Every friend he visited had them in their bedrooms. His own childhood bedroom still has some old and dim ones hanging on the ceiling from when he convinced his father to get him some.

He didn't understand the appeal of them then. Nor does he now. Perhaps it's something to do with children in Gotham never seeing the actual stars because of the light pollution. All he knows is that in the desert he grew up in... these fake green plastic decorations do not compare to the galaxy he used to see as if the only thing separating him from the universe was a single pane of glass.

He turns away from the fake stars, closing his eyes, before they open again to glare now at his bookshelf, filled to the brim with books of all kinds and Cheese Viking figurines. There's a collectable coin there too, one Richard accidentally won way back when he decided to buy a mystery box from some website. It turned out to be pretty rare. He gave it to Damian and Damian got curious enough to look up the game.

It's his favorite game now. Because Richard found him a random gold coin.

Richard. His stomach clenches. Why won't it stop hurting? He has no reason to be this anxious.

No reason at all.

There's a soft knock on his door. Damian shifts so he's holding himself up on his elbows, watching as the door opens to reveal none other than Richard. His hair looks damp from a shower, which makes Damian wonder how long he's been glaring at random things in his room. He's dressed in an old Gotham Knight's tee-shirt with mustard stains around the right breast. Damian went to a game with him when he was wearing that shirt. He accidentally got shoved into Richard in the crowd, looking for their seats, when Richard was holding a hotdog. It got all over him, but the mustard is the only thing that persisted multiple rounds in the washer.

"Dami? You up?" Richard asks. Damian reaches over and turns on the dim lamp by his bedside.

Richard's eyes settle on him, and he smiles. It looks strained though.

That festering, lingering anxiety spikes.

"What is it?" He asks.

Richard walks into the room, then sits down on the side of Damian's bed. Damian bends his knees to allow room for him. He brings his pillow in front of his body and hugs it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The question shocks Damian, as he didn't mean to ask it. It seems to startle Richard as well, because he goes stock still and looks at Damian with wide eyes.

It shocks them both, but it must be the reason if a bad lunch isn't.

Then, Richard breaks into soft laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was about to ask the same thing, actually," he says, once the laughter dies down.

Damian frowns. Has Richard done anything wrong?

No. The answer is immediate. Richard hasn't done a single thing wrong. He's been nothing but his usual annoying and loud and pushy and kind and loving self since his father left and he came to keep the suit warm.

It almost feels like the beginning all over again. Waking up in the morning and smelling sweetened mocha instead of straight black coffee. Sketching in the afternoons by the fireplace in the family room and being interrupted by Richard barging in with a portable speaker, blasting the newest trending pop song. Going to bed with a goodnight hug. Bandaids snuck into Alfred's first aid supply that have cartoon and Disney characters designs. He's wearing a Frozen 2 bandaid now, on his knee.

If his father hadn't left with the rest of the Justice League, the band-aid would be a normal tan color and the day would be close to silent and alone.

It's feeling normal again, he realizes with horror. Because whatever mood Richard brings into the manor isn't normal. Normal is Bruce Wayne silently checking up on him throughout the day and calmly helping him with homework and giving tips on sketching techniques. Normal is leaning against the strong shoulder of his father as he tests those tips while his father reads a book, the only sounds to interrupt them being the ticking clock on the wall and the crackling of the fire.

Normal is... Normal isn't...

It's not this. He likes the time he spends with his father. He enjoys the wordless love and reassuring squeezes to his shoulder.

Normal isn't the loudness and silliness of Richard's affection.

And just like that, he finally knows what's wrong.

It feels the same as it used to be. Back when they thought his father was dead. Back when Richard seemed to be the only trusted adult in his life, and the daily interactions he had with him almost promised to be infinite.

And then they found out his father was still alive, just stuck in time. With the help of Timothy and others... They managed to bring him back.

And.

And Richard left.

And Damian was left.

And.

And that wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

He hasn't allowed himself to think about much. It was something neither of them had acknowledged or mentioned. Richard once said he considered adopting Damian if his father was dead. Damian didn't stop himself from taking comfort in that.

And it feels like history is repeating itself. His father is away. Richard is Batman.

However, now Damian knows that the second his father returns, Richard will be packing his bags and leaving. This isn't normal. He can't get used to this again. He loves his father. But Richard...

It hurt enough the first time, watching him go.

And it will happen all over again. He'll get comfortable with Richard and his daily hugs and laughter, and then he'll be gone.

Separation anxiety. He has separation anxiety.

"Oh buddy," Richard coos, wrapping his arms around Damian and bringing him to his lap to hold him better.

He's crying. Tears are running down his face and it's stupid, because he knows that when Richard leaves again, it won't be like he'll never see him again.

But he's crying, and it hurts. Hurts more than if he had eaten something bad. He clutches to the pillow between them and let's the tears fall.

"Tell me what's wrong," Richard soothes, probably the only person in the entire universe to not freak out when he cries. Probably the only person in the entire universe Damian would allow himself to cry like this to. "What can I do to help?"

"It's stupid," Damian says, through it's through a hiccupping sob, which makes it sound very not stupid to someone like Richard. He sniffs and rubs his eyes on the pillow, forcing his breathing to go normal and to stop crying. "It's nothing. Father will come back, and- and you'll go back to Blüdhaven, and everything will be normal again."

Richard stills, then sighs. "So it's about that," he says softly. Of course he immediately knows what Damian means. He tightens his hold on Damian. "You know when your dad comes back, nothing will change between us, right? Even if we're on the opposite side of the world."

"I don't want to be on the opposite side of the world," Damian snaps, shoving himself away from Richard and glaring. "I want- I don't-" he presses his face into his pillow and groans.

Dick is silent, then he shifts closer and wraps his arm around Damian's shoulder gently. "I know. I don't either. But... it's just the way things have to be. You know this. Just like you know that... that if you ever really want to, I can clean out my guest room."

Damian shakes his head, his feelings feeling so all over the place and raw. "I just- when father came back, I didn't expect you to just leave. I don't want to choose. I-"

"I know," Richard whispers. "I know. I love Bruce. He's my dad too. But, you know us. If I move back in, we'll be at each other's throats. I'm a grown man now, Dami. I have to be on my own. He's... Protective. He still sees me as seventeen years old. And he's your father. You should be with him."

Damian sniffs. He doesn't nod. He doesn't shake his head. Agree nor disagree.

Simply understands.

It's just the way things are.

He stays silent as Richard continues. "And you know that I'll always be there for you, if you need me. I'll drop everything for you. Just say the word. I'll be running, even if I'm on the other side of the world."

Now Damian nods. Let's the cotton of his pillowcase soak up his silent tears.

He doesn't feel much better, but he doesn't feel so awful anymore either. He supposes that's the best it will get in this situation.

So he just sits there until his head begins to dip with exhaustion and Richard pulls him in so he's laying against his shoulder. His eyelids droop, and they stay there, together, like they used to.

It's scary to allow himself to become attached to things, but he can never help himself with Richard.

The best that he can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and make the most of it.

Richard will be gone when father comes home, but for now he's here, and he's warm, and he's solid.

Damian falls asleep, and Richard doesn't leave that night.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #jin writes #fanfiction #dc comics

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sp00kworm · 4 years ago

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Silence (Part 2)

Part 1 - A Bar Brawl

Part 3 - The Star Goddess (Bloodhound’s Ending)

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Pairing: Revenant x Gender Neutral/ Non-specified Reader

Warnings: Threats of Violence.

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A Totem to Remember - Revenant’s Ending

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Loba’s debut seemed to attract more customers than you were ready to deal with. On the night of the test match, you had to refresh the beer kegs twice and you were almost out of a brand of whiskey known as the Red Devil. It was annoying, but you knew you had to refresh stock as you stacked freshly cleaned glasses back under the bar for the next day. Your bot in the back chimed happily as he opened his great washer stomach and offered you another tray of red hot, freshly cleaned glasses.

“Thanks buddy.” You cooed at the robot before taking the tray and patting his head with one hand. Spinning back around, you headed back out into the bar and hummed to yourself as you started moving towards the cabinet of tumblers. You held the tray on your hip as you plucked open the cabinet before carefully putting the glasses into their correct places, in order of size and shape. Mindlessly, your fingers moved on muscle memory as your little washer buddy moved to plug himself back in for the night, waving before he powered down and his battery began to charge. You patted him softly as you placed the tray away for him and turned to lock the kitchen for the night.

The lights flickered. You looked at the ceiling before a gravelly voice spoke above you.

“You’re oblivious, skinbag.” Revenant purred from the ceiling.

You looked up and realised his face was close to your own, his arms extended, and his legs pinned into the metal of the ceiling. His body contorted monstrously before his head twisted and he dropped from the ceiling with a soft thump.

“What the hell are you doing on my ceiling, Revenant?” You tried to keep calm, but you were quick to fly into fury with the Simulacrum, “You don’t get to just waltz in here after…”

“You don’t get to waltz in here after what you’ve done.” He mimicked back at you with his hand snapping in your face, “Tell me something I haven’t heard before.” Revenant drawled as he looked at the whiskey behind you. He pointed a sharp finger at it, “Give me that.”

“Uh, no.” You gave an exasperated huff and snatched the liquor, “I suggest you pay for it first, plus, we’re closed.”

“I think you’re forgetting just how much money I’ve given you already, squishy.” Revenant purred, “I gave you a thousand credits last time I was here, that pays for more than seven of those whiskey bottles, I know they’re not that expensive.”

With another hum, his metal fingers reached for a glass, snatching it before you could rescue that from him too.

“Okay. I don’t think you understand that you literally killed a man in my bar, and that your hush money doesn’t just sweep that under the rug.” You pointed a finger in his face angrily, “You pay, or you get out.”

The threat made him laugh. Revenant threw back his head and laughed a deep metallic noise, his mouth opening slightly to reveal the sparking copper inside of his mouth, “I like you. Not just anyone gets away with pointing a finger in my face.” He purred but his hand snapped up and grabbed hold of your wrist. Slowly, his cold sharp fingers crawled down your arm before they grabbed hold of your fingers and pushed, “But point it at me again and I’ll take the nail and skin off and pin your eyes open to watch.”

“This is not the way to get a free drink.” You uttered, in shock at the severity of his threat.

Revenant hummed again before his electronics whirred and he released your hand back to you, “Sure. You’re something odd, skinbag. Get me that drink, I need something to do.” It wasn’t polite nor happy, but you relented and opened the cabinet to retrieve his drink. The expensive liquor was strong, and you turned back around with it in your hand before undoing the screw cap and pouring it into an icy tumbler.

Revenant eased himself into the bar stool, ignoring your disgruntled look as he took the tumbler and admired the dark colour of the whiskey. He swirled the liquid for a while before taking a small amount into his mouth and swallowing, his neck jarring with the pumps before he gave a small hiss.

“Nice burn.” He commented as he slumped over the bar and looked at the clock on the wall, hardly fazed by the lateness of his visit or how inconvenient he was being to you, “I see you’ve been making a killing with the games broadcasts.”

You didn’t know whether he was being genuine, “Well…I guess that money came in handy.” You shot back at him, “Blood money seems to have made my business flourish.”

“Sometimes money buys happiness.” Revenant drawled, “I got plenty of it. Just ask.”

“I don’t want your money.” You scoffed, “I’ve had plenty of that already.”

Revenant growled, “Then just what do you want from me?!” His fingers rapped along the bar top.

“If you didn’t get it, Revenant, I want you to get out and leave me alone!” You shouted.

The Simulacrum watched you, his black and orange eyes bright before the orange went small and he snatched his drink back off the bar. He lifted it to the separation in his face where the skull like white met red and opened the hinge to dump the rest of the alcohol inside. Before you could snatch the expensive bottle away from him, he had it in his hand. Revenant said nothing to you as he held the bottle by his leg, his long arm popping upwards with a shrugging readjustment before he whipped around and headed to the door, stalking on long legs. He didn’t glance back as he stormed away, slamming the door behind him with a grunt before disappearing beyond the bright LEDs of the streetlamps and into the night. You looked at the bar and scoffed at the scratch marks down the wood, running your finger over them before you locked the door and shut off the lights to head up to your room above the bar for some well-earned rest.

Revenant didn’t show up for the next few days. You were glad for the peace again as you ran through your normal daily routine, until it came to cleaning day for you little dishwasher friend. The robot unit chirped happily as you slapped at his dishwashing compartment and watched it open, the cogs and pistons whirring as the racks and doors stretched to their full capacity. Carefully you took a spanner and went to carefully unscrew the back of the water pipes from his back and laid them over the counter and into the sink to avoid any gross water dripping through onto the floor. The pipes smelled. You coughed as you reached for the cleaning fluid and whistled gently as you opened the back of the washing compartment to expose the hose outlets. The robot chimed a whistle as you poured the cleaner inside his belly and started scrubbing, whistling back softly as the suds started to foam up.

“You love cleaning time huh buddy?” You asked.

The robot chirped with a smiley face appearing on the screen which acted as its face.

“Hey, I know, I won’t be too long!” You promised as you took a wire wool to a particularly rough spot of dried grease. You continued to hum as you worked and poured the cleaning fluid down the water pipes to clean them.

“Okay buddy, lets get these back attached to you.” The washing bot chirped and span for you again as you held his water pipes up and reached for your spanner to crank the bolts back into place.

“And…” You cranked the bolt one last time, settling it in place tightly, “There!” You declared, “Right, go and set yourself for a full rinse and you should feel like brand new!”

The robot chirped and tugged himself into the corner again before starting his cycle. A happy face trundled across his screen as he started the timer for his cycle and plugged himself back into to the charging point to continue the wash in sleep mode.

“See you in a bit buddy.” You patted his washing compartment and headed back into the bar, wiping your hands on a towel before you looked at the empty place and the bright sunshine outside. You weren’t open just yet. It was too early for serving and you felt tiredness seep into your eyes as you looked for the coffee machine. It was usually only used for Expresso Martinis. It needed water and you took the coffee jar and filled it before pouring it into the machine and looking through just what you fancied to drink. If anything had come out of the war, it was the new, expansive range of hot drinks. Tea from far off planets you had never heard of. You plucked free one box with a curious looking fruit on the front before taking the strainer and filling it with the leaves and letting the hot water drip through into the large pot.

As you watched the water drip, you heard a noise above you. The clink of metal. The barest noise of a scrape of metal over plaster. Slowly, you peered upwards. Nothing. The ceiling was its normal, usual painted colour, the metal support beams poking out of the plaster. You frowned but looked back at your tea. There was another noise. Metal scraping over each other. The noise was coming from behind the closed door to the kitchen. You left the tea unattended and reached for the door handle, pressing the pad to open it with a whirr of mechanical locks. It clunked open. Nothing. Your washing robot chirped at you in confusion his screen flashing with a question mark across his face before you smiled, trying to ease his nerves.

“Hey, don’t panic. I just thought I heard something…” You trailed off as you looked past your washing robot and into the room. Nothing was out of place.

It was then that your washing bot gave a strangled beep and danced away from where he was attached to the wall, pulling the water pipes tight as he beeped in upset.

“Pah.” A silver clawed hand retracted up back on top of the fridge after taking a rude swipe at your friend, “Stupid tin-can.” Revenant hissed from the giant chrome refrigerator, flashing his claws back at the robot once more.

“How the fuck did you even get in here?” You asked as you looked up at the Simulacrum, “I told you not to come back.”

Revenant’s body contorted on the top of the fridge, his head twisting to the side as his orange eyes span and swirled in the shadows, “I know.” He rumbled, “I…” He went silent as his pistons clicked and he slid over the top of the furniture and down onto the floor with a click and a hiss.

“You what? You needed another bottle of whiskey?” You challenged.

Revenant stood to his full height, looming over you, the joints of his fingers clicking before he gave a grunt, “Something like that.” He rumbled as he looked down at you before he looked back at your washing bot and flexed his shoulders, “I didn’t know you had company.”

Suddenly, that tension was gone, and Revenant stepped past you to flash his hand at the other robot again. It was a threat perhaps, but your washing robot chirped unhappily again.

“Stupid bag of bolts.” Revenant grumbled at it.

“Hey.” You intervened, “Leave him alone. He’s just a washing bot.” You grabbed Revenant’s arm.

It was like the Simulacrum froze in time, his eyes glaring down at the place where your fingers wrapped around the metal. With a snort, Revenant tugged his arm free from your grip.

“It’s just a washing bot, like you said.” Revenant stalked from the kitchen, his mechanical legs thumping softly as he went. As he left you made sure your friend was safe. Beyond a small nick at the base of his neck he was fine. You nudged him back into his power station to continue his cycles in sleep mode.

You followed Revenant into the bar to see him picking through your cabinet again, his metal fingers tapping along the labels of the liquors as he decided back to pluck from your reserves.

“What happened to the rest of that posh stuff?” Revenant asked with a hum as he looked through the back of the cabinet.

“You had the last bottle. The supplier hasn’t been in a while.” You watched him look back before he selected another expensive looking bottle. This time it was tequila. You didn’t say anything as he took it out and eyed the label before disappearing into the corner of your bar, slinking into the booth farthest away from you in silence. The Simulacrum didn’t glance back at you as he cracked open the bottle and placed the glass neck between his metal jaws before tipping his head back and emptying a good portion of the alcohol into his synthetic stomach. You watched with a small cringe as he seemed unfazed by the burning liquor. His orange eyes snapped to you as you watched him from the bar.

His gravelly voice carried well across the room, gracing your ears with the deeply pissed off timbre, “What are you looking at?” Revenant asked with a roll of his optics, “I’m not going to steal anything.” He rumbled.

You watched him for a moment before replying, “I’m more concerned why you want to be here.”

Revenant looked you dead in the eyes as his mechanical thumb stroked the label of the bottle, “Call it a whim, whatever. It’s quiet and there isn’t that annoying Andrade brat. Don’t go thinking anything different. You tell them where I am, and I’ll take great pleasure in making you squeal like the little meatsack you are.”

“You know. There’s no need to threaten me with a good time every time you come in here.” This was a new tactic, and you watched his optics twitch from his bottle to your face.

“Are you making fun of me, skinsuit?” Revenant growled, his two metal jaws parting slightly to reveal the sheen of copper in his mouth with an angry snarl.

“Hardly.” You scoffed, “Fine.” You relented as you headed for the light switch, “Stay here, but I’m going to bed. Enjoy your pity party.” With a snap of the lights, you walked back into the kitchen and to the back staircase to your own apartment. You made sure to lock the door firmly before stripping off for a shower and heading to bed.

Revenant peered into the darkness with a hum, his fingers tapping along the table before he tugged the bottle of liquor closer and snapped on the holoscreen in the corner, searching for something to fill the noise in the dark bar with outside of his own memories playing over and over again behind his eyes.

“Skinsuit.” There was a grunt before the bed shook and dipped either side of your body, “Skinsuit!”

With a jolt you woke up, just to come face to face with the skull-head of Revenant and a sneer.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have to choke you awake.” Revenant grumbled as he peered over you, his legs splayed like a spider either side of you as he looked down at you tucked into the covers. His hands pulled back from either side of your head and you watched him flash his claws as he sat back, still perched over your legs, looming like a deranged killer.

“Do I need to ask why you’re up in my room?” You asked groggily, wiping sleep from your eyes as Revenant watched you sit up with great interest. The Simulacrum purred, a low rumbling from somewhere in his throat, as you met him face to face, glaring at his orange and black eyes.

“Your little washing bot is screaming downstairs. It sounds horrendous.” Revenant didn’t move away, his skeletal nose rushing with air as he inhaled the smell of you.

“If you did something Revenant…”

“You’ll what? You’ll kill me?” He wheezed a great laugh as his claws dragged at your sheets, “Good luck with that, skinsuit. There’s millions of bodies just waiting for me to be reuploaded into them.” He snarled before rasping again as his arms and legs whirred into downwards positions, allowing him to snap, flip and crawl off your bed in one, bizarrely fluid motion before he clicked back into place and stood over the side of your bed with another, odd, calculating rumble.

You decided to ignore his snide remark and bitter tone, “Is he malfunctioning?” You asked as you threw back the covers and climbed out of bed to face the Simulacrum. He was intimidating at nearly seven feet tall but slim and streamlined with the ability to move silently at will despite being made from entirely heavy bulletproof metal. He looked down at you, his metal lips parted, unimpressed with your pyjamas covered in small Nesse prints.

“Not a clue.” His orange eyes looked you up and down before he strolled over to look through your desk.

“Hey, asshole.” You snapped at him as he tugged a thick looking document from a fat wad of paper, “No one invited you to look through my things.”

Revenant chuckled, “No. They didn’t…” He pulled open one of the drawers underneath him and hummed at the pens and random assortments of stationary in there, “A penis pen.” He held the phallic pen between his fingers, “Practical.”

You ignored his taunting swaying of the pen back and forth and hastened down the stairs towards the sound of your screaming washing bot. As you opened the door to the bar kitchen you ducked as a pot came flying towards your head. It clattered against the wall and smashed into several pieces. You avoided the shards as you pushed into the kitchen and saw the pipes spraying water down onto the floor and the robot trying to slam his front closed.

“Oh my…” You didn’t finish your sentence as he caught sight of you and screamed again, the screen in his stomach covered with crying faces as he rushed towards you, holding the severed and burst pipes in one hand and his drawer closed with the other. He screeched again waving the dripping pipes in front of you before shrinking behind your form, ducking as low as it could get as Revenant filled the entrance way into the kitchen.

His raspy laugh made you scowl. Revenant slinked in through the doorway and set about scratching his claws along the tiles, making a noise that was so ear grating you had to clench your teeth.

“I didn’t expect for him to piss all over your floor, I’ll admit.” The Simulacrum laughed, harshly and entirely mean.

“I knew you had something to do with this!” You pointed a finger in his face, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?! Why do you have to insist on being foul for a reaction?” Your anger seethed out of you as you hid your little robot behind you.

Revenant sneered, “You’re no fun, skinsuit.” He snarled before he snagged the pipes from your robot’s hands and grabbed the mechanical washing bot along the floor, kicking and screaming. His claws crunched into the metal of the washer bot’s shoulder as he pulled it towards the wall it had previously been stationed at. It wiggled violently before Revenant heaved it up and held the pipes up before driving them together with a metallic thunk. The connectors clicked back together easily, and the washing robot beeped confusedly as Revenant stood him against the wall and banged on the front of his tummy, slamming the door closed with a vicious thump of his metal palm. The door remained closed and the washing robot chirped in confusion.

You looked at the floor and then back to Revenant as he trudged back through the puddles of water and loomed over you again. He gave a long, low, robotic chuckle as he spun his hand and curled the claws towards his palm.

“I fixed your issue.” He stated with a look at his claws before he snapped them into a spike and made sure to push you back against the door, “Your welcome, skinsuit.”

You felt anger boil in your gut, “What? Do you want me to thank you or something?” You spat as you looked up at the unnatural orange optics. They span, the robotic pupils clicking as he focused on your face and the anger that painted your expression.

Revenant’s fingers curled into the wall, “Something like that.” He whispered as he stared at the anger on your face, “I didn’t do this, before you blame me.” With a scoff, he released you from the wall and sauntered through the puddles of water towards the back door, “Nice seeing you…” He turned to look at you, his headscarf rippling in the breeze, “You look nice when you sleep.”

“FREAK!” You screamed after him as he disappeared up the smooth concrete wall and over the next building with a hiss of pistons.

Your washing bot chirped sadly and held out his hands to you with a shake. You looked and spotted the spanner in his hands as he sheepishly rubbed his washing compartment.

“Well. At least I don’t have to bill him for this as well…but maybe I will to spite the bastard.” You considered as you carefully took a towel to your friend and then grumbled, wading across the kitchen to find the mop to get rid of the rest of the puddles.

Revenant seemed to lurk in the corners of your vision after that, always sat in the back of the bar, with some bottle of hard liquor and a deadly, judgemental gaze turned on the rest of the patrons. Those who knew him from the Apex Games did not dare approach him. He took great pleasure in launching a young man over the table once from a handshake, laughing as he stalked over to him and signed his name on the boy’s cheek in his own blood. You had promptly doubled his price for drinks that night, but the Simulacrum did not complain, he paid at closing and disappeared into the night. Sometimes he lurked after closing time. More often than not, you found him glaring down at your washing bot as the robot thrust a mop at him to try and get him off the cupboards or fridges. Angry beeps were then met with your angry glares. For some reason, Revenant adored the look. Anger furrowing your brows and a snarl on your lips made him feel smug, almost joyful. He was positively gleeful when he was tormenting you.

However, the bar was shut for the workers day, a holiday for most of the city, and Revenant was left without his normal activities to entertain himself. He stalked around his room for a while, jumping and reaching for items he had hung from his ceiling as exercise before he looked at the charging port and bed. There was nothing else in his room. A spare scarf was hung in the wardrobe along with the scraps of a suit he had taken great pleasure in peeling apart in front of the other legends before a conference. With a huff he opened the ventilation shaft and rotated his spinal column before his shoulders snapped and tucked in close underneath his arms, allowing for him to fit into the vent and scuttle along to the next room. Noxious fumes made him pause, but with another slow filtration of air he scoffed and opened the grate on the other side.

“Mercury won’t rot my insides, Nox.” His head turned one hundred and eighty degrees before his body followed in a contortion of metal, spilling out and rotating on top of Alexander’s glassware cabinet.

Caustic looked at him with vicious cold green eyes, “I’ve yet to find anything but charged copper dispersals that will have an effect.” He uttered softly, clinical and effective as he opened his filtration systems and watched the mercury vapours swirl away into the chambers above, “Why are you bothering me, Simulacrum?”

Revenant lowered his head over the side of the cabinet, “I smelt rotten eggs. Sulfur. But maybe you just passed gas.” He jeered as he watched Caustic cork the rest of the reaction and pull another yet of heavy metals from a rack alongside various acids.

“Maybe hydrofluoric acid will make you quieter?” Caustic hissed, “I’m working.”

“I know.” Revenant hummed from the cabinet, “But you’re not that busy.” He dragged his claws over the top of the metal with a laugh.

Caustic closed the arm opening of his experimental chamber with a slam as he peeled free his gloves in order to point a scarred finger at the Simulacrum, “You never come in here unless you’re bored.” He observed as he removed his goggles and respirator, “And that isn’t often…Not after you found that little toy to play with. Did Bloodhound not warn you off enough with that slice to your oil recycler?”

Revenant growled from the cabinet as he leaned over the top, leering at the Chemist underneath him, “It was fucking ugly bleeding shit down my legs but there’s always another body for me…Bloodhound didn’t heal to quickly from my blow I think.” He flashed his claws and hummed as he tucked himself back on the unit, far out of Caustic’s reach, “Besides. That feral brat doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“No but they might be inclined to give you another cut for harassing a…what do you call them…skinsuit?” Alexander’s eyes lit up with silent glee as he watched Revenant click and adjust on top of his glassware cabinet.

“Carry on old man and I’ll show you just what I did to Bloodhound.” Revenant hissed as he laid over the top, his metal legs hanging down over Caustic’s head.

Caustic binned his gloves and hung his goggles after washing them before he turned on the air conditioning and moved back towards his desk, “I have no desire to taste steel today. So,” He span in his chair, his rectangle frame glasses perched on the end of his nose, “Are you going to tell me what you’re here for? Evidently your little toy isn’t around to entertain you today.”

Revenant propped his head up on his arm, tapping a claw against the metal beneath his eye before he rumbled, “Its…boring.” With a small sigh he looked down at Caustic, “I didn’t think I could feel but its exciting to watch them, like a little rat running around. A little angry rat.”

Alexander was turned back to his desk, working over something before he replied, “You might be an illegally made conscious robot but you will still carry humanity…even if your programming was once to kill.” He shrugged up at the robot, “Perhaps you are having a mild fascination? Infatuation if you will. I can’t say I have felt it myself… The idea of such intimacy disgusts me, but perhaps you are more human than you originally thought?” Glee laced Caustic’s tone as he smirked up at Revenant.

Anger churned in Revenant’s processors, “Human am I.” He slipped from the cabinet and slid in one movement, grabbing for Caustic’s throat.

His fingers were cold, but Caustic let him grapple from the chair. The Chemist was far shorter than him but was large, bulky and strong despite his love for poisonous gases.

“Did I hit a nerve?” He asked with a laugh and a wheeze which was followed by a cough.

Revenant looked down at him, orange eyes swirling before he leaned close to Caustic’s face, “Compare me to you soft bellied sacks of skin again and I’ll slice you from groin to neck just for the fun of it…Then maybe I’ll show your little apprentice what you look like.”

“I dare you to try Simulacrum.” Caustic whispered before he pried the robotic hand off his throat and sat back down in his chair, slicking his hair back with a huff, “Why not just ask to see them?”

“Pah.” Revenant’s joints clicked as he climbed back onto the cabinet, “Like I want to see them.” He hissed, “They do nothing but tell me to leave.”

“Have you considered that is because you are foul?!” Caustic shouted as he leaned back to see Revenant disappear back into the vent, “Idiotic fool.” He cursed softly before erasing the measurements for the next reactions he had planned.

Days suddenly past without Revenant in the corner of the bar. Your washing buddy seemed quiet and contemplative without having to beat him off the countertops, and you found yourself slowly relaxing until it was concerning. The Simulacrum was never gone for long. It was a week since before you knew it and you knew they were still in the downtime between seasons. He had no reason for being gone. You caught yourself one night as you worried about where he had gotten to.

“Probably finally got what was coming to him for that big mouth.” You whispered as you took the cleaned glasses from your robot and began to place them away.

The door opened with a creak and you huffed, “We’re closed!” You shouted over your shoulder, “I swore I turned the sign around…”

There was no one in the bar. You scowled as you opened the bar door and walked towards the entrance where the door was propped open an inch or so, letting the warm air into the bar.

“Hello?” You asked quietly as you opened the door and peered outside.

“Skinsuit.” Revenant hummed from above you.

You peered upwards and felt a sense of relief wash over you as you gazed into the orange eyes of the sour looking Simulacrum above you. His head turned, much like a bird, as he regarded you.

“You’ve been gone a while.” You commented idly as you stood outside the door. Your foot hit the pavement and the Simulacrum held up one silver finger.

He pointed down at your foot, “I think you just stood on something.”

You jumped when cardboard crumpled and something rattled around in the box, sending it shooting towards the taxi rails. With a rush you grabbed for the box and frowned at the largeness of it.

“Why did you get me an animal?” You asked as you heaved the box to the front door, eyeing the air holes stamped in the side.

“Call it an investment.” He grunted as he dropped from your roof and stood behind you, watching with eager eyes as you carefully opened the lid.

A growl sounded from within and you jumped back at the sight of the small Prowler cub pacing back and forth in the box.

“REVENANT, WHAT THE FUCK?!” You screeched as the Prowler cub scrambled from the box and hissed, flaring the bare bones of its frills at you, trying to appear intimidating.

“No need to shout. You’ll scare the little guy.” Revenant insisted as he closed the door, “I found him is all. Thought you might like it. Kings Canyon…well its not great but if you head into the jungles of Leviathan there’s still some of these things that survived the purging of the planet.”

“How did you even find one?” You asked as the cub rushed underneath a table, quivering and hissing sadly, “They’re…endangered.”

“It was stuck in a pit. Probably game hunters. I nabbed it. Its weedy and pathetic looking so I thought you might like it.” He shrugged, “I can’t keep animals in the tower so he’s yours.”

You stood silently for a moment, trying to figure out just what the gift meant. That Revenant trusted you? That he thought about you? You didn’t know what to make of it.

“Are you going to pay for the food?” You asked with a smirk aimed at the Simulacrum stood over you.

The seven-foot robot gave a single, dry laugh before he held up a large bag, “Way ahead of you, skinsuit.” He reached in and pulled out a heavy looking metal dish, “Don’t give me that look.” He gestured to your face, “So happy, doing that thing with your little beady eyes. Its revolting.” With a scoff he pushed past you and headed towards the cowering cub before plucking it from the floor, ignoring the black teeth snapping at him as he pulled at its frill and admired the deep blue and orange colours along his back.

“Hey.” You cautiously approached, “Put him back on the floor, I have a good idea on how to win him over.” You gestured to Revenant who rolled his eyes but dropped the cub with a huff and grabbed a bottle of liquor to watch from the bar as you took off your sweater and gently eased it under the table.

The Prowler ignored you, mouth agape and dark under its neck. Next you took the food bowel and pulled out the food Revenant had gathered. A small amount of cubed beef was enough, and you placed it in his bowl before filling the other and leaving for the bar.

“Really? That’s it?” He droned, “How boring. I thought you might wrestle it and get eaten alive.” He trailed his fingers over the wood, “Now what?”

“We leave him alone. He needs to settle in. Its all new and traumatic.” You insisted as the cub took a sniff of your sweater and laid in the mass with a sad whimper.

“How dull…Maybe he’ll chew through a pipe in the night.” Revenant wondered as he tipped his head back and poured some liquor into his mouth.

“Hopefully not…but thank you. I didn’t think you were capable of being nice.” You whispered as you watched the Prowler bed himself down.

“Don’t get used to it.” Revenant snapped, but without as much of his usual bite, “It might come back to bite you.”

“Well, it very well might. Look at his teeth.” You joked, for once feeling at ease with the murderous robot in the room.

Revenant only gave another series of dry laughs.

“Demonio.” You cooed at the small cub as he attacked a hunk of meat with talons and teeth. It chewed on its back teeth before its ears pricked behind the frill around his neck.

“Demonio.” You cooed once again and the Prowler looked at you with a grumbling chirp, licking the blood from around its mouth as it eyed the small, marrow filled bone in your palm, “Come on boy.” You wiggled the bone back and forth as the orange eyes tracked your hand along its course.

“Do you like making fun of me?” Revenant grumbled from his seat at the edge of the bar, “That damn brat is the only one who calls me that.” He hissed.

Demonio eyed the bone before he got to his feet and prowled over before licking at your fingers. He took a nip before waiting for the bone.

“Good boy.” You reached with your other hand and touched his frill, gently running your hand down his nose before you gave him the bone and stood up to head back to Revenant.

“He seems fonder of you.” Revenant observed with a hum, “Almost like a soft little dog.” He spat at the cub, “How delightfully boring.”

“Maybe, but I appreciate not being bitten by him anymore.” You answered as you looked back at the Prowler. He was already growing, and you were more than happy to look after him, but he was going to get large, “Even if he might outgrow me one day…well and maybe try to eat me at any moment.” You huffed.

Revenant snorted, “Ha. Maybe he will, but I’m sure Predators are less inclined to eat people they like.”

You looked at the Simulacrum, “Is that why I’m still alive?” It was barely a whisper, “Because you like making my life miserable?”

Revenant looked taken aback, his orange eyes turning into pinpoints as he considered his next words, “Miserable…No.” His metal jaws clicked, “You’re the only person that can make me laugh.”

Those words were heavy, and you watched him struggle for a moment with himself, “I don’t understand anything. I was programmed to kill for…I don’t know. A long time. This is new for me and I have hated every second of feeling more than I did being nothing but a slaughter machine.” He growled.

“You should call me by my name then.” You smiled as you said it for him, and the Simulacrum nodded once before repeating it back to you and turning to watch Demonio gnaw on his bone.

“Oh,” Revenant looked back at you and you poured him another drink, “For the record, I like you as well Revenant.” You smiled as you sat down next to him and watched Demonio work on his bone a little longer.

“Demonio!” You rushed after the Prowler as he launched himself at a customer. He was now a juvenile, and the hound like beast was quick to dislike anyone that touched you over the bar. You kept him behind the bar, but the creature was quick to jump at people that took hold of you. Revenant laughed from the end of the bar, tucked in the shadows of the wall as he ran his claws back and forth over the bar, “He knows people shouldn’t touch what isn’t there’s.” The Simulacrum sneered as the patron whipped around to look at him.

“Oh yeah, you metal fucker? What are you saying?”

“That your disgusting little skin sack hands don’t deserve to be near ‘em.” Revenant’s fingers snapped together, the fusion metal slamming together as he raised himself over the bar, spun and stuck up against the ceiling over the man, “Maybe I’ll take more than your hand like the hound would.” He ran the sharp spear of his hand down the man’s cheek, “I think your innards would make a lovely adornment to my mantle.”

“Revenant.” You tugged the hand away, “Enough.” You hissed at him, “Sir, I’m sorry for the drama…”

“Save it. I’m out of here.” He shoved his drink over the side and rushed to the door, “Bunch of fucking weirdos.” He snarled as he left.

The night drew to a close and Revenant spent the rest of the opening hours sulking in the back of the bar, alone on a table, with his feet propped up on the metal, his drink untouched as he watched the patrons with a vicious glare.

“Revenant.” You uttered as Demonio pattered along behind you, his frill flared as he dragged his tug rope for play time, “Are we going to talk about what happened, or are you going to sulk forever?” You asked as you sat across from him, pushing his feet to the side in order to see his gaunt metal face.

The Simulacrum snorted, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, there is.” You huffed, “You threatened to kill a man tonight who grabbed hold of my hand.” You sat back as Demonio pushed his head into your lap and you rubbed the scaley skin around his ears.

“Is there? I wasn’t aware that it was a problem.” Revenant moved his feet from the table, “He was an asshole. I won’t apologise for my actions.”

“I’m not…”

“And I sure as hell won’t be giving you money for his drinks..”

“Will you shut up and listen?” You snapped.

Revenant felt anger threaten to spill over, but he slumped back in his seat as you pushed your finger down against the wood and scowled. He watched you with a huff.

“You’re lashing out and I want to know why.” You demanded, “From day one you were horrible. A cruel and mean machine that wanted nothing but to inconvenience me every day, but now you’re…giving me gifts. You’re here constantly and you just…You stopped me from getting a very horrible string of abuse. So, explain this to me, because I’m at a loss.”

Revenant was silent. His chassis was still and his wiring and pistons clunked as though he was being jolted back to life. He opened his hand on the table and dared to reach for one of your own. Smooth, cold metal fingers grazed your fingertips before they gingerly moved up and over your palm to stroke the soft skin. His orange eyes watched the pulse in your wrist before he linked the fingers once, squeezing tightly before he moved away again and guarded himself, crossing his arms out of your reach.

“I…” He paused again, “I care for you.” That was it, he was silent again, his eyes watching you as you took in the meaning of the words he had dared to utter.

“Care for me?” You whispered back at him.

Anger laced him once again, “Yes, you stupid skinsuit! I might even feel something like love or joy!” He hollered as he flashed his claws and scraped them against one another, “Its infuriating and…And it hurts!” He threw his hand at the wall, “It hurts because I know I’m nothing but a giant killing machine! I’m stained in so much blood I could swim in it and nothing can ever make you love a disgusting creature like me!” Revenant heaved, almost like a human, his spinal column lurching as he screamed in frustration again and moved to stand up.

Like a viper, you grabbed at his hand and tugged, hard enough to jolt his fingers, but he was unfazed. He towered over you and watched, looking down at you with lonely eyes as his fingers dared, once again, to wrap around your own, seeking the heat they no longer possessed. He uttered your name, once, softly, as though he wasn’t allowed to say it, and then he looked you in the eyes.

“That week you didn’t show up was like torture.” You said carefully, “For the first time, I was actually worried about you. It was then that I realised I liked having you around. Everything you did it was not to piss me off… well it was, but you haven’t had to speak or make friends with someone in so long, you just forgot how to do it anymore.” You felt your hand begin to shake in his, “But then the gifts started, and you thought about them. I said I wanted a dog one day, and well Demonio isn’t a dog but he’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever been given…So,” You smiled at him, “What I’m trying to say is that I think I might love you too.”

Revenant’s hand fell from your own and he looked to the wall for a moment before replying, “You really think you can love me?” He whispered, appearing small despite his towering height.

“Yes, I think I can.” You affirmed before leaning up to wrap your arms around him. The Simulacrum flinched before wrapping his thin, cold arms around you, taking in the warmth of the hug before pressing his face to your neck and humming at the gentle sensation of a kiss against his cheek.

“What was that for?” He asked quietly.

“Because I love you.” You whispered as you hugged him tighter.

#revenant x reader #revenant x gender neutral reader #revenant apex #apex revenant #apex legends revenant #revenant #apex legends #reader insert #apex legends fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #silence #caustic #alexander nox

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keeroo92 · 5 years ago

Note

Male reader #26 with dante?

Mmmm, delicious! Thank you, thank you! I’m still getting the hang of writing M/M, hopefully this satisfies your needs. Slightly NSFW towards the end.

Word count - 1,323

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The first time, it was an honest mistake. Somehow your clothes got mixed in with his in the laundry and you didn’t notice, adding several of his shirts to your own closet. To be fair, the man’s taste in tops was abysmally plain; how were you supposed to tell the difference between his black t-shirts and your own?

It didn’t click until a few days later.

“Hey, have you seen any of my shirts? I swear I had more than this,” his familiar rumble asked one morning.

“Maybe the dryer ate them?”

“Yeah, maybe. Weird.”

Dante turned to leave and you glanced at your reflection in a nearby mirror. The shoulders were a bit loose, now that you thought about it. Just to be safe, you headed to your room to check.

Sure enough, several folded tops occupied space that normally remained vacant. It was a challenge to identify which ones belonged to who by sight alone, so you ended up trying them on to check the fit.

How did I end up with seven of Dante’s shirts?!

You returned them all within the hour with a sheepish grin, but the man in red only chuckled and brushed it off. No harm, no foul. Water under the bridge. All good in the hood.

He probably would’ve recited another ten adages if the doorbell hadn’t rang.

The second time was a few weeks later. Once again, you found yourself stuffing his load into the dryer and rolling your eyes at the pile of dirty clothes waiting by the washer. Honestly, if the man couldn’t be bothered to rotate his own laundry, you sure weren’t going to do it for him. You picked up the pile to move it aside, but the scent of his deodorant stopped you in your tracks.

Old Spice.

Your favorite.

Fuck it.

You took a deep, indulgent sniff and sighed. It suited him perfectly, like the aroma was designed to highlight his already intoxicating masculinity. Not fair.

The bastard was already obscenely attractive.

A frustrated groan rattled up your throat. Moving in with him was quickly becoming torture. The initial thought was to help ease his financial struggle and to get you out of the halfway house you lived in after you came out to your parents. They were less than accepting. Even thinking about their disgusted eyes filled you with hurt and rage.

You heart ached and you took another sniff. It gave you comfort and you didn’t question it, stowing the most fragrant shirt you could find in your laundry basket for future enjoyment. Surely he wouldn’t miss a just one?

The theft didn’t seem to catch his notice and you relied on the soothing cotton over the next few weeks, hiding it under your pillow and sniffing it in the darkness whenever your thoughts turned to home.

The third time was last week. You noticed his eyes began lingering on you a little too long, his chuckles quicker than before. Subtle changes, but important clues. The first time he touched you, a simple press of his fingertips to emphasize his enthusiasm, fireworks exploded in your mind. You wanted to dance and sing, but instead only smirked and continued the conversation.

That same night, you searched for a hint of scent on the wrinkled shirt under your pillow to no avail. It was inevitable, you knew that, but you’d hoped it would last just a little longer. You sighed and padded to the laundry room, hoping he’d dumped his dirty clothes on the floor yet again. All you needed was a simple switch, he’d never know.

A grin lit your face as you spotted the treasure trove waiting for you. It took mere seconds to find a suitable replacement, yet another plain black tee. Unremarkable, save for the delightful odor it carried. You dropped the other shirt and took a deep sniff, tension you hadn’t even been aware of melting away.

“Is that my shirt?”

Your eyes shot open and the breath froze in your lungs as you heard his amused inquiry. Caught red-handed, you scrambled for a reasonable response but there was no easy explanation. Excuses would only make it more embarrassing. That left only one option.

Fuck it.

Boldness guided your actions as you turned to face the smirking man leaning on the door frame, his shirt never leaving your nostrils. He looked so casual, so relaxed and uncaring… coils of heat gathered in your belly, blood rushing to your rapidly growing arousal. His eyes were locked on yours as you indulged in one last sniff.

“Yep.”

His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped closer, close enough you didn’t need the shirt to enjoy his unique aroma. “Did you just come in here to sniff it or…?”

Your bravery wavered under his bemused expression. Heat gathered in your cheeks and you tilted your head to the side. Go big or go home, as the saying went. And you weren’t welcome at home anymore.

“Mmhmm.”

“Huh. You know, there are better methods,” he replied.

You raised an eyebrow, daring him to make a move. The fluid in your mouth vanished, your heart beating a thunderous pace in your chest as you reveled in your nerve. It was a rush to openly acknowledge your affections, even in such a roundabout way.

Sapphire eyes danced as his hand reached up to cup your cheek. Hints of his delicious scent enveloped you. Surges of lighting coursed through your veins and you dropped the shirt, freeing your hand to mirror him and feel his stubble.

Dante hummed and turned his head to heighten the contact, his eyes fluttering shut. Nothing existed but the two of you, or if it did you didn’t care. All you cared about was how he felt in your arms.

Does he taste as good as he smells?

You closed the remaining distance to find out, boldly stealing his lower lip for a gentle nibble. His answering groan was pure magic, and he crushed you to his chest a beat later. Not a single atom separated your lips from his as you opened to him and met his tongue.

Shit, he tastes better than he smells!

It was total perfection to sample his flavor again and again, an intricate dance that left you dizzy and aching with need. You stroked his hair, clawed at his back, mapped every inch of his body you could reach and still it wasn’t enough.

His head rolled back as you pressed your hardness against his, a sinful moan slipping through his swollen lips. A sly grin split your mouth as you rutted, teasing him without mercy until he was panting in your arms. Pink dusted his cheekbones and his eyes were glassy as he met yours in a moment of clarity.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

You froze, your nerve vanishing at the thought of him discovering your lack of experience. Kissing and teasing was one thing, you’d done that dozens of times.

But never before had you shared your body with another man. How would it work? Would it hurt? Did Dante prefer being on top or was he more into receiving? What were you supposed to do with your hands? When did you last ‘trim the shrubs’?

“I… uh… I’ve…” you stammered. The words simply refused to come out.

“You’ve never done this before?”

You stepped back and glanced away. “Yeah.”

Calloused fingers wove through yours. He squeezed and brought your knuckles to his lips. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll take good care of you.”

You bit your lip and met his eyes, still hesitant even though you wanted this so damned much.

“If that’s what you want?” he added.

A sheen of concern shrouded his face and you melted. Maybe he was just as scared as you were. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and squeezed his hand, offering what reassurance you could.

“I want nothing more.”

#fanfic #ask response #dialogue prompt #dante x reader #male reader #dmc dante #my writing #dmc #reader insert #devil may cry

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delciasustains · 5 years ago

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In the last two years, I have spent $0 on menstrual products, and produced <1 lb of menstrual waste.

Yes, you read that right.

So, how did I do it?

I present to you: the Menstrual Cup and the Reusable Pad

The Menstrual Cup

The menstrual cup is, arguably, one of the most just and unifying products out there. In all reality, there is no reason to oppose a menstrual cup aside from the brief training period (which often involves the “I think it’s stuck” phase and quite a lot of hands-on activity in the shower) and its original cost (which is roughly $39.99 for the Diva Cup brand). So maybe in the past 2 years I have spent $40 for a menstrual cup, but overall I’m not counting that into my total. ;) All in all, this product reduces waste, doesn’t involve putting treated cotton or other strange/harsh chemicals in your precious va-jay-jay, and lasts a long time.

While this has definitely been the ‘talk around town’ in terms of empowering environmentalism and ecofeminism, the menstrual cup definitely is a bang for the buck. Not only is it reusable for up to 10 years, but they can be used for up to 12 hours (with no risk of TSS!)

(Source)

So, how do I wash and take care of mine?

1. Evening showers I will put my diva cup in in the morning and remove it during an evening shower, where I can easily dump all of its lovely contents down the drain. Huzzah <3 If you are trying to reduce your showers, or have varying shower times, you can easily take it out and empty it over a toilet, but it is much messier and involves having to actively run to a sink with diva cup in hand. I have done this multiple times, but still will opt for the evening shower. Then, I wash it with some Castile soap or whatever I have on-hand and hang/rest it to dry until morning. <3 In the meantime (i.e. overnight) I will use a reusable pad, which I will discuss more below.

Diva cups are also a fantastic option for overnight use, so do not hesitate to put it right back in after emptying it in the evening! However, regardless of how often you empty and reinsert, make sure to wash it once daily, and with a gentle/non-fragrance cleanser.

On that note, it can be recognized that we are all different shapes and sizes, and this product may not have the best fit for everyone. I am one of those people, and my diva cup is regularly leaking on me. I have been using them for 2 years, and I have purchased almost all of the sizes, and it still leaks here and there. Luckily, I have found a zero-waste and low-budget solution for that too!

The Reusable Pad

Reusable bamboo pads have to be one of my favorite products as well. Not only are they super comfy and often come in cute designs, they are also much better for you and the environment (lasting up to 5 years!). These bad boys are able to absorb a hefty amount of fluids, while also locking away moisture and bacteria unlike anything a one-time use pad could do because they are made higher quality and with no plastic! However, these products are trickier for women to get the hang of, so here are tips and tricks for how I have done it for the past few years.

How do you wash it? Isn’t that pretty gross?

While the idea of wringing blood out of a pad sounds pretty gnarly, it is actually not bad at all (and something most women in the world still do today!) Of course, if you take it off and tuck it away in some bathroom cabinet, then it won’t be a surprise if it gets a little gnarly. However, this is my step-by-step guide to maintaining yours in the easiest way possible

1. Wear it when you need it! - I’m the type of person who leaks form my menstrual cup typically on day 1 and day 2, but after that I’m gucci! Sometimes, I’ll just wear black underwear and call it good (lol!) I also wear a reusable pad at night instead of a diva cup. Because of this, I tend to use about 4-6 in the first few days of my period, and I’m lucky enough to have fairly light and short periods. I would suggest purchasing a pack of 7 or more reusable pads, since we tend to push the laundry until the end of the week.

2. Wear for no longer than a few hours This is going to depend woman to woman and on flow/day of the week, but if it starts getting uncomfortable or odd-smelling, then it’s time to wash! Often times, if you simply do not have time to wash them right away, you can place them in a sealed bag (and folded) until you’re ready to wash them. Be warned though - you don’t want to leave them in there for too long because I can promise you, things will grow!!! Right after use (or if you want to wait until the evening when you’re all settled) you will want to rinse and wash all of them. So, how do you wash them?

3. Washing!

You will want to submerge them in water and wring the blood out, until the sink bowl water starts to run clear. Then, you can take soup (literally any soap -- I use Castile soap sometimes or literally just hang soap sitting by the sink) and rub it into the pad. Sometimes, I scrub in circular motions with my fingernails or finger pads, and it helps to pull out anything left in there.

Afterward, you can submerge it a few times again, and push soap and water out from one end to the other (down the length of the pad). This helps ensure you are running water through it.

Lastly, wring it and hang it in a breathable place! While they can be used again after they are dry, I personally only wash them to prevent any smell or bacteria until laundry day, and will throw them into my hamper when they’re dry. Sometimes, I will also wash all of them right before doing laundry. They are washer and dryer machine safe!

Over time, you get the hang of washing them, and of knowing when to wash them too!

Okay, I’m convinced. Where do I buy them?

While I personally got mine from Amazon and spent about $20 on them, I would encourage everyone to locally source their products if possible. Another friendly service which empowers small entrepreneurs is Etsy. These are some of the amazing products they provide in terms of reusable pads!:

Reusable bamboo panty liners if you spot (like I do!) and want something thin and discreet, 3 for only $8 (and they come in increments from 3-24) by creator TheRainbowEucalyptus

Overnight organic bamboo/hemp/cotton pads for $8.50, including a variety of customizable lengths! by creator sacredspiralcreation

Organic bamboo charcoal fleece variety pads, by creator MamaBearBabyWear. There’s so many options!!

Conclusion

Hopefully this information provides insight into my zero-waste menstruation process, and inspires you to make that shift as well! While sometimes people ask “why wash pads so often?” or are reluctant to use products like menstrual cups and reusable pads because of the direct nature of them, I believe it gets us in touch with our body, our bodily autonomy, and staying attuned to our bodily processes. Yes, it’s easy to just throw a tampon in and call it good (and not even have to get your hands dirty!) but then it is much more difficult to see flow cues and even cues your body may be telling you. If the environmentally-friendly, empowerment, and cost-friendly aspects aren’t enough to convince you, imagine being able to constantly brag about not having spent a penny on menstrual products for years to come! Score!

Overall, I would recommend these products, and I am always available through messages or [email protected] if anyone has any questions or would like to talk about it. Good luck on your sustainability journey!!

#delciasustains #delciastudies #sustainblr #tumblr #sustainability #eco friendly #menstrual cups #diva cups #reusable pads #reusable bamboo pads

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keichanz · 5 years ago

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Another Day in Hell || Part 2

.....uh....i can explain.

except i really, really can’t. fuck.

note: this is not based on The Walking Dead. i haven’t seen the show, but i’m thinking about maybe starting to get a few ideas because i have no idea what the fuck i’m doing.

another note: the need for code/nicknames will be explained in the next chapter or possibly the one after.

also: part 3 of Move Your Body will be posted tomorrow.

Read on AO3.

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3

It was a struggle, but after Kagome fell asleep, Inuyasha finally managed to tear his gaze away from her after an embarrassing amount of time – long enough that had she been aware, he was fairly confident she would had called him a creeper for it – and went about tidying the space for lack of anything better to do. Well, better than standing there like an idiot for an undetermined amount of time gawking at the slumbering woman in his bed. Not only would she call him a creeper, but he’d feel like one so that was off the list of things to do, so distracting his mind with meaningless cleaning it is.

It wasn’t very large, perhaps the size of the standard studio apartment, the walls were brick, the floor was cement, and it suited Inuyasha’s needs perfectly. Sure it was chilly more often than not, it smelled funny, and sometimes he saw a rat or two, but none of that ever bothered him and besides, it was better than nothing. And he was proud of his little shelter. He’d transformed it from a wrecked and dirty building into a safe zone, using what he had at his disposal to make his life a little easier. It was only a bonus that it had working plumbing and untouched food and supplies in the back, suggesting that he had been the only one to survive long enough to venture further in and discover it all.

He had found the place a couple months ago and claimed it as his own, eliminated all the undead inside, dragging their bodies outside in front of the shop, and making a clear statement that this particular shop was off limits. It worked for the most part; occasionally he’d get the odd demon sniffing around for shelter or a curious human searching for supplies, but he always managed to chase them off or if he had to, maim or kill. Humans that had lost their sanity and regressed into nothing short of a slaughtering madman were nearly just as rampant as the undead fuckers that walked around with a hunger for human flesh and he’d eliminated his fair share of them.

Inuyasha hadn’t lied to Kagome earlier; he really hadn’t killed another human unless they tried to kill him first. He didn’t like killing needlessly, especially when there were so few demons and humans left after the world went down the shitter and became a living hell. It was a dog eat dog world – he fucking hated that analogy if he were being honest, but it was accurate – and Inuyasha did what he had to do to survive. It was never easy, it was by no means pretty, but it was necessary and he’d accepted that long ago.

Often Inuyasha wondered that if it hadn’t been for his friends, he would have gone down a very similar path as the human murderers and allow his demon blood to overwhelm him, turning him into a bloodthirsty creature with no remorse and no mercy. It was a terrifying thought so he never dwelled on it for long, merely shaking his head and offering his silent gratitude to whoever would listen.

Stooping to grab Tessaiga up off the floor and shove it back into his belt loop, Inuyasha sighed and started collecting the trash to take to the dumping site tomorrow, tossing the bloody rags, Kagome’s ruined shirt, and plastic bags he’d filled earlier in the week with miscellaneous rubbish into the bin. He’d learned the hard way that leaving bloodied clothing and rotting food outside behind the shop attracted all kinds of creatures with a keen enough nose to smell it. After dispatching a hoard of investigating deadies for the fourth time in a single week he’d decided enough was enough and started dumping his trash into a large pit about a mile’s walk away.

Pausing, Inuyasha turned to glance at his occupied bed once more and frowned. He never minded the walk, and most of the time even preferred it, but perhaps this time it would be a smart idea to use the ATV. He kept it hidden and hardly ever used it because gas was a precious commodity, but the thought of leaving Kagome alone for any stretch of time unsettled him. He didn’t like the idea of taking her with him either, especially with a useless arm, but at least if he left her here she’d be safe and he’d only be gone for a maximum of ten minutes anyway.

Kagome sighed and shifted in her sleep, a little frown puckering her brow briefly before it smoothed out and she settled down again. Realizing he was staring, Inuyasha once more tore his gaze away and decided he should go over inventory to see what he needed.

Growling at himself, he grabbed the notebook he used to keep tabs on inventory and started with his weapons stash first. Ammo was a given and he jotted that down, for his Glock and the rifle with the scope he kept on top of the bookshelf, used for long range shooting. He still had three boxes left for his Sig so he didn’t have to worry about that. He was running low on mineral oil for Tessaiga, though, so he added that.

Food wise, he was good on non-perishables, but made a note to get bags of ice, a case of water, and after a brief pause, more ramen. Medical supplies were stocked. Flicking a glance at the haphazard box of clothes, then to Kagome, he wrote down women’s clothes and other. He figured she’d tell him what she needed so he didn’t bother listing any feminine products, and he was counting on Sango or Ayame maybe having a few things they could donate. He had no idea how long she’d be staying with him or even if she would – he didn’t know her story, if she’d been separated from family or what – so for now he thought it safe to assume she’d be staying for a while, which meant eventually she’d be meeting everybody after she was healed and had regained her strength.

Inuyasha grunted and scanned his list, idly tapping the pen against the notebook. Matches, lighter fluid, gasoline, firewood, and blankets he was good on, but he marked off flashlights and batteries as a critical need. He checked how much was left of the ingredients for homemade bombs – the things were incredibly useful when going up against massive hoards of undead – and added those to the list. He’d gotten lucky yesterday and found a bag filled with toiletries and other random items that he knew the girls would appreciate so he crossed that off his list.

Looking it over one last time, Inuyasha conceded that all in all it wasn’t that bad. The items most difficult to retrieve would no doubt be the ammo and water, but Inuyasha wasn’t afraid to play dirty if he had to. It was a kill or be killed world, and he’d be damned if he was offed by one of those undead fuckers or a mere human with a possessive streak.

“Fuck my life,” Inuyasha muttered as he dropped the notepad onto the table and wandered over to the washer-turned-cooler to grab a beer.

Alcohol was also a rare commodity, but he was lucky enough to have an entire back room full of the stuff. He wasn’t a huge drinker to begin with – getting drunk during these times was dangerous and just downright foolish – but every once in a while he didn’t mind kicking back with a cold one, take a moment to breathe and thank god that he’d survived another day.

Kagome chose that moment to make another soft sound in her sleep and Inuyasha found himself once more staring at her as she grunted before abruptly rolling onto her stomach, squirming around and wrapping her good arm around the pillow then going still.

Inuyasha stared, cursed, and then abruptly gave up, stomping over to the puke-green armchair and plopping down with a heavy sigh. Stretching his legs out and getting comfortable, he uncapped his brew, knocked back a few mouthfuls, and settled back into the worn cushion as he propped his head in his hand and crossed his booted feet at the ankles.

Kagome... His eyebrows dipped into a thoughtful frown as he studied her, claws idly tapping against the chilled glass of his beer. Her face, relaxed in slumber, was directed toward him and his eyes tracked her features, to her small nose, delicate jaw, and full lips. Despite looking a right mess, her hair a tangled mop on her head, dirt smudged onto her skin along with dried blood, she still managed to look beautiful to him. She was trim, physically fit, and she’d weighed hardly anything when she’d been in his arms. He recalled the deep brown of her eyes, fathomless pools of rich chocolate that glittered with an odd mix of apprehension, confusion, and relief when she gazed at him.

Taking another swig, Inuyasha wondered what she had been through before they’d met. She’d told him about the psycho with the gun, but what about before that? Where was her family? Were they even alive? Did she have any friends? Why was she alone without any means of protecting herself? How the hell had she survived for so long?

He had so many questions and he’d wanted to bombard her with them tonight, but after seeing how exhausted she was, nearly falling asleep sitting up, he’d decided they could wait so she could get the rest she so desperately needed. He surmised she’d sleep for a good ten hours or so, and in the meantime he should probably catch some z’s himself, but with his mind a whirlwind of activity, he doubted he’d be getting any sleep tonight.

Inuyasha had no idea why he brought her back here. Well okay, that wasn’t entirely true; while his enemies and even at times his friends had called him many less than positive names, he wasn’t a heartless bastard. He hadn’t been about to leave a helpless woman alone, obviously frightened for her life, to a hoard of hungry zombies – and possibly her psycho trigger-happy friend that gave her that hole in her shoulder – when there was something he could do about it.

But still, it had been an impulse, a last second decision, and during the single hour he’d known her he’d been wondering if he was going to regret it. Aside from the obvious of whether or not he could trust her, he’d just loaded onto himself and the others another mouth to feed, a liability because he was pretty damned sure she knew jack shit about defending herself for wielding any sort of weapon.

That could change, though. He could teach her. Show her how to hold and aim a gun, how to brace herself, even teach her a few basic self-defense moves after she was back to full health. She would be a quick learner, Inuyasha surmised. Kagome had the drive to survive, a strong enough spirit to hold her own, and a fierce determination he’d caught a few glimpses of in her eyes. So he could turn that liability into an asset, train her, show her the ropes and he knew without a doubt that she would fit right in to their merry little band of misfit fighters.

And therein lay the crux of the problem because Inuyasha didn’t do that shit. He didn’t train people how to fight, how to accurately protect themselves, how to hold a goddamn gun or block an attack. He may own a goddamn dojo dedicated to teaching martial arts, but that didn’t mean he taught any of the students enrolled.

He knew what the others said about him and, hell, he agreed. He was temperamental, defensive, anti-social, and his patience was notoriously limited, so training somebody like Kagome, who looked like she hadn’t roughhoused a day in her life, would not be a good idea. No, he left that up to Miroku and Sango, his instructors that worked for him. Well, used to, before the world went to hell in a hand basket.

Yeah, sure, he could have someone else do it. Inuyasha was positive he could drop her off at S and S, explain the situation, and then go about his usual business of being a temperamental grump and avoiding everyone. She’d be in good hands; Sango and Ayame would immediately bond with her since they always complained about being the only two women among their group of twelve. They were talented fighters and he trusted them wholeheartedly to have his back in a fight.

The thing was, though, while he trusted everybody impeccably in their group to have his back – and yeah, even his bastard of a half-brother – for some stupid ass reason having somebody else train and teach Kagome didn’t sit well with him. It was completely asinine, but he only trusted himself to teach her how to properly protect herself, how to punch, kick, aim, block, know when to dive in, and when to retreat.

It made no goddamn sense. He didn’t have time in his day to devote to training somebody, and yet the thought of anybody else doing it, getting that close to her, even if it was Sango or Ayame, had his chest tightening and a growl to well in his throat. It wasn’t a secret that Miroku’s hands wandered, and fucking Kouga thought he was god’s gift to women. The girls would spend more time gossiping than training, the runt was too young, Sesshomaru was an asshole – when he actually bothered t show up, anyway, and wasn’t off doing his own thing – and Ginta and Hakkaku were idiots.

So no, it had to be him. And besides, he’d been fighting since he was a brat and had plenty experience. Kagome would be in good hands with a competent instructor like himself, and no, that wasn’t arrogance. Damn wolfshit had enough of that to cover everybody in their group ten times over. Besides, he was the one that found Kagome, so she was his responsibility. He would make sure she knew what to do during an ambush, what to look for, teach her every survival trick and tip he knew, and he’d make damn sure could protect herself.

Of course, the whole goddamn thing would be moot if she didn’t stay. There was a chance, after she was fully healed, she’d say thanks and go back to wherever she’d been staying before, maybe with family or friends, and why wouldn’t she? He was a stranger and sure, he’d saved her ass, but she didn’t know anything about him, just like knew virtually nothing about her other than her name, her age, and that she’d been an office worker. Inuyasha didn’t even know if she’d volunteer any information other than that when asked – it was clear she had some trust issues, with good reason – and it annoyed him that he knew so little about her, which was fucking ridiculous.

He’d just met the damn woman, of course he knew jack about her, and she was in no condition to share her life story anyway. And he told himself that it made sense, that he accepted the fact that she’d have to find out for herself whether or not he could be trusted beyond treating her wounds and providing safety while she slept, but he knew it was more than that.

For some fucking reason this tiny slip of a woman, within the simple hour he’d known her, Kagome Higurashi had managed to get under his skin, the urge to protect someone else other than himself roaring through him stronger than it ever had before. Maybe it was how she’d looked when he’d first found her; bloody, frail, and looking and smelling utterly terrified before her flight or fight response kicked in and she bolted from him, but whatever it was, Inuyasha found that he...didn’t entirely mind the thought of her hanging around. It had been instinctive, to go after her, a primal and purely male part of him screaming protect and he’d thoughtlessly obeyed.

And now Inuyasha was wondering if maybe it would be better if she didn’t stay and what was even worse, he really, really hoped that she did.

“Fuck my life,” he groused again, just barely above whisper, and finished the rest of his beer with several deep pulls.

The radio on the table crackled to life and Inuyasha was already standing it up to retrieve it when a familiar voice spilled from the speaker.

“Monk to Ash, come in.”

Ears flattening and darting a quick look to the slumbering woman on the bed, Inuyasha snatched up the radio and depressed the switch.

“Copy,” he murmured into the mic and with one last look toward Kagome, he started heading toward the ceiling doorway. “Standby.”

He didn’t receive a reply but hadn’t really expected to as he reached up and with a hard shove, pushed the door open. The ceiling was just low enough so he could grasp the edge and haul himself up into the square opening with minimal difficulty. Instead of standing, however, he settled on the edge and let his leg dangle inside while he braced the other on the floor, knee bent as he leaned back on his hand and brought the radio to his mouth once more.

“Ash to Monk, what’s your twenty?”

“S and S,” the voice responded a second later and Inuyasha relaxed. “Back at you.”

“The shop,” Inuyasha replied. “Status.”

“In one piece,” his friend said and added on, “you?”

“Stupid question.”

A low chuckle came over the speaker and Inuyasha had to grin.

“Glad to hear you’re still alive, asshole,” Miroku, aka Monk, told him and the half-demon snorted. “You know it wouldn’t hurt to check in every other day or something. We worry about you.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Don’t waste your energy. I’ve been doing this a helluva lot longer than any of you, idiot. And besides, checking in every other day will just drain the batteries for a pointless conversation that wouldn’t even last thirty seconds.”

“Yes, but that’s what the chargers are for.”

“Which uses electricity, which is only possible because the dojo has a private generator, which uses fuel to keep going, and as you know, fuel is scarce. Use your head, moron.”

He could practically hear his friend roll his eyes on the other end as he drawled, “I sincerely doubt that giving power to the chargers makes that much of a difference, Ash.”

“I’m not checking in.”

“I—”Miroku’s voice was abruptly cut off and then an irritated female voice came through the speaker, “Make the idiot happy and check in, asshole, because you know if you don’t, he won’t stop until you respond, thus draining the battery even more.”

Inuyasha scowled. “Fuck off, Slayer.”

“You know I’m right,” Sango, aka Slayer, replied and then must have handed the radio back to Miroku.

“I mean,” his friend said and the laughter was evident in his voice. “She’s not wrong.”

Suddenly tired of this conversation, Inuyasha abruptly changed topics. “Anything new to report?”

“Possibly,” Miroku replied and Inuyasha knew the fucker was grinning. Idiot. “Cane is out patrolling with Iris, Smokey and Bandit are on clean up, the lovely Slayer is sparring with Kid. However, I like to believe Rogue showing up out of nowhere to drop off Fawn and Toad before disappearing again raises a few red flags.”

Inuyasha frowned. “When?”

“Two days ago,” Miroku supplied and then because he knew the half-demon would ask, continued,“He didn’t provide an explanation and when I asked Fawn, all she said was he was looking into something. Toad wasn’t any help either but that’s not a surprise. It was very strange.”

Inuyasha had to agree. While it wasn’t uncommon for the bastard to wander for days on end without any word from him, it was unusual for him to go anywhere without Rin. Fiercely protective of the child, Sesshomaru didn’t trust anybody but himself to ensure her safety and so for him to leave her behind suggested something was up. Inuyasha would have to ask whenever the bastard deemed to grace them with his presence again, and that could be anywhere between a few days to a fucking month.

“Fucking fantastic,” Inuyasha grumbled and thrust a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “How’s Fawn?”

He was actually quite fond of the little ball of sunshine and it came to as shock to everyone that he was in turn one of her favorite people. And although it still boggled his mind why she preferred the asshole’s company to staying where it was safe with plenty of food, water, and a warm bed to sleep in every night, he’d long ago stopped questioning it because she’d always give the same answer, accompanied by a bright, genuine smile.

“I belong with Sesshomaru.”

He didn’t understand it, and probably never would.

“Seems fine. Playing with Scout,” Miroku replied. “She was very tired when she arrived, however, and I suspect that might be part of the reason why Rogue dropped her off before leaving. I’d imagine it’d be difficult to get enough sleep when one travels as much as your brother.”

“Half-brother,” Inuyasha automatically corrected, frowning. “Yeah, maybe. It’s that, or he’s going someplace where he deems is too dangerous to bring her with him. Anywhere outside is dangerous, though, so where the hell could he be going?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, my friend,” Miroku returned and the shrug was obvious in his tone.

The two lapsed into contemplative silence for several moments and Inuyasha was staring down into the square opening, wondering what the hell his bastard of a half-brother was up do, when the radio in his hand crackled to life again.

“Anyway,” Miroku said, sounding like his usual upbeat self, “how about yourself, Ash? Anything noteworthy happen?”

Inuyasha blinked at the radio then turned his gaze to the floor again, approximately where a certain dark-haired woman was sleeping peacefully beneath the shop. He grimaced.

“Monk,” he said dryly, “you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had today.”

“Oh?” His friend sounded genuinely interested, and with a sigh, Inuyasha recounted the day’s events to him, staring with last night when he’d found that bag of toiletries (“Oh, Slayer and Iris will be thrilled,” he’d opined) to how he’d brought Kagome back to the shop and treated her wounds. Because Miroku was his best friend and one of the few people he could trust with anything, he also expressed is doubts and concerns about the entire situation and he was grateful when Miroku listened attentively and didn’t interrupt.

When he was finished, Miroku didn’t say anything for several minutes and Inuyasha let him gather his thoughts as he stared listlessly at a pallet socked with cases of water that he’d compiled himself. He’d be bringing some of them back with him to S and S in about four or five days when Smokey and Bandit showed up to take this place.

The two-way crackled to life, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts. “You haven’t told her about us.” He didn’t sound accusatory or anything, but merely curious.

Inuyasha sighed. “No. I barely got her to eat something before she passed out from pain and exhaustion.”

“Do you think she’s dangerous? Can she be trusted?”

The half-demon actually snorted at that, recalling the weak punches she’d thrown at him while trying to escape earlier.

“Trust me, Monk,” he drawled, “she’s about as dangerous as a kitten.”

“Then I don’t see the harm in bringing her here,” his friend said, completely serious. “It sounds to me like she could really use some help, Ash. Even if she was separated from her family or friends, I wouldn’t feel right sending her back out there alone to find them herself so at the very least, we could assist her in locating them and escort her. And who knows? Maybe by doing so we can expand our band of merry misfits and get them to come back with us if where they are staying isn’t secured. The more people we have, the better chances of survival.”

“And the more mouths we have to feed and clothe and protect and shelter,” Inuyasha fired back without missing a beat.

“You don’t really believe that, Ash, so don’t try and tell me otherwise. I know you.”

The half-demon grimaced and didn’t bother to comment. Sango liked to tease him that he was nothing but a big softie and dammit, sometimes he thought she might be right. Scout and now Kagome was a prime example of that.

“Smokey and Bandit will be there in five days,” Miroku told him, accurately taking his silence for what it was. “In the meantime, and I know I don’t have to tell you this, but try and get some more information on her family and her thoughts on joining us. I presume you are going to be seeing to her training if she stays, yes?”

Inuyasha snorted into the mic.

Miroku laughed on the other end, but hit the switch on the two-way afterward so the half-demon didn’t hear it. “I thought so. Let me know so I can tell the others. I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to have another woman to talk to.”

Sighing, Inuyasha tipped his head and stared at the ceiling, golden eyes unseeing.

“Ash?” The two-way crackled. “Do you read?”

He hit the switch and raised it to his lips. “Yeah,” Inuyasha murmured and dropped his gaze back to the floor, seeing through it to the oblivious woman sleeping on the bed. “Yeah, I read you.”

“See you in five days, my friend.” A pause. “Try not to die before that, alright?”

Inuyasha’s lips twitched and he chucked, depressing the switch and returning, “Same to you, idiot. And tell Scout not to eat all my fucking ramen.”

Ch. 3

buy me a coffee? :)

#another day in hell #part 2 #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction #zombie au

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leadmystro-blog · 5 years ago

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Pre trip your vehicle!

You could save a life!

I’m a licensed CDL driver in the construction industry and pre tripping heavy vehicles and machinery before driving is essential not only for the operators safety but for their surroundings. Bigger vehicles and heavy machinery require more detailed inspection especially with moving components. But a basic pre trip can apply to everyday vehicles many of us drive daily. Pre tripping your vehicle before you hit the road could save a life or prevent problems on the road. Even a simple walk around your vehicle checking your tires could prevent you losing control from a blown front tire. Tires, liquids, windows, mirrors, and body should be inspected under, around, top, and surroundings of vehicle before hitting the road

Tires are important to pre trip because they are in direct contact with the road and wear the fastest. You look for low air, tread wear, cracks, or missing pieces. If there is uneven wear on your tires it could indicate a suspension problem. Tires with low to no threads should be changed asap. Front tires tend to wear faster on most vehicles because the engine and driver are located in the front. A blown front tire can be very dangerous because you could lose control of your vehicle. So if your front tires have less tread then your rears, you could swap them with the rears to get more out of your tires. Rims should also be looked at to see if they are cracked, lug nuts aren’t missing, and are tight. Uneven or wear on lug nuts could mean an alignment issue. If there is uneven tension on the lug nut studs they could snap and your whole wheel could come off while you are driving. Another thing to look for is if your rim has brake dust indicating wear on your brakes. Look to see if your brake calipers still have meat on them.

Liquids need to be inspected because they keep your engine and internals running like water and blood for humans. A good start is looking under your vehicle from a distance to identify leaks. See if you can identify any puddling under your vehicle of radiator fluid, oil, and fuel. Radiator leaks could cause overheating and you would need to pull over to cool down or cause permanent damage to your vehicle. The radiator could be cracked or a hose could be leaking and needs to be changed. Never unscrew the radiator cap when engine is hot or it could explode and you could be severely burned. An oil leak in your engine or transmission could cause permanent damage if oil is too low. An oil puddle under the engine could be a leaking gasket and puddling towards the rear of the vehicle could indicate a transmission oil leak. Both should be addressed as soon as possible. Fuel leak could range from engine to fuel tank and could be dangerous because any type of spark could ignite a fire or even an explosion. The most obvious way to identify a fuel leak is by smell because gas and diesel have a very strong distinct smell. The source of a fuel leak most likely would be the fuel reservoir or hose running to the engine to your fuel tank. Radiator, brake, oil, even washer fluids should be checked daily if not weekly.

Windows and mirrors are your eyes on the road and should be inspected daily. Checking for cracks, smudges, or anything obstructing your view. A quick wet then dry wipe down could easily clean your windows and mirrors. Another tip is to keep your dashboard clear of anything because they could affect your vision or distract you from the road.

Now would be a good time to inspect your vehicles body for any bends, dents, scratches, or anything out of the ordinary. Could be indicators your vehicle has been broken into or involved in a hit and run. Also check around your vehicle. Do you have enough room for a safe exit? Is there anything obstructing my tires? Sharp objects that could puncture my tires?

Dont you hate it when someone doesn’t use their turn signal on the road?Lights on a vehicle are vital because its how we communicate with others on the road and should be inspected daily. You should look for cracks, bulbs are intact, and connections are ok. Besides you could get a ticket if your head lights or tail lights are out.

Ever try to rush into a workout without warming up and end up getting hurt? Same goes for your vehicle. After pre tripping the exterior of the vehicle there is a checklist when you are behind the wheel too. Before starting your vehicle you should make sure your car is in park and your emergency brake is engaged. Manual vehicles should be in neutral with e brake engaged. Make sure seat belt is working properly and secured. Also a good idea to look inside your vehicle for any unwanted passengers that could startle you when you’re driving. Now time to start your vehicle. First thing you should look for is engine oil pressure reading. If theres no reading turn your engine off immediately because that could mean your engine does not have a proper seal and could cause permanent damage. If your vehicle does not have an oil pressure gauge it should have a light come on if the pressure is too low or high. Check engine should be address because thats your vehicles of saying to you something is wrong. Gauges should be working properly fuel, temperature, battery, rpm, mileage, You should let the engine warm up especially the first start of the day without pressing the gas pedal allow engine to idle till rpms reaches around 1 or 1000 rpm’s. This allows the oil to be distributed around the engine and not cause excessive wear on the metal internals. Diesel engines should be warmed up for at least 2 minutes on a cold start because they require more oil in their engines. While letting the engine warm up it would be a good time to adjust your mirrors, seat, tunes, air conditioning, so you dont have to fidget with them when you’re driving. Mirrors should be adjusted so the inside of the mirror is right at the edge of your tail lights. This allows for better range of sight through your mirrors. I would also suggest installing a convex mirror on your rear view to cover your blind spots especially if you can’t see out of your rear window for whatever reason.

This sounds like a whole lot to look for before you hit the road but the more you do it the process becomes faster and you can set time aside for pre trips on the daily. Even a simple walk around your vehicle with a checklist in mind is sufficient and could save a stressful stall on the highway, prevent an accident, and even save a life. Accidents are more prone to complacent drivers. Of course you can do a thorough pre trip and still get into an accident but at least it wouldn’t be because of something preventable. Driving is the most dangerous activity we do on a daily for most and you can do your part to prevent a preventable incident on the road. I’m sure it would be a hard pill to swallow if you ran out of brake fluid on the road, got into an accident, and killed someone. Preventable but still happens on a regular basis.

If you are on Honolulu and have vehicle issues because you forgot to pre trip your vehicle or did and still having problems visit towhonolulu.com for any professional towing needs. Please provide dispatch with proper information when calling for a tow. Location, direction you are heading, lane, and type of vehicle. Aloha \\ooo//

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meowloudly15 · 5 years ago

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Stranded: Day 9 - PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

Hello, all apologies for vanishing on you all. Yes, this story will be completed. Yes, there are only six more chapters left. And yes, this is my favourite chapter in this story. So I hope the wait was well worth it for you all.

Also, big shoutout to @gammathetaalpha, my betareader, who unfortunately has other commitments and therefore can't finish betaing Stranded. She's been such a big help to me, though, and she's an awesome writer herself, so I recommend you give her stories a look!

As always, enjoy!

First | Previous | Next

When she woke up, Gwen’s first thoughts were about her Peter. She saw his face, thin and shadowed, his wire-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and indenting the sides. She saw his blue eyes, squinting at a homework problem or a chemistry assignment. She saw his long, thin frame, a buttoned-up polo shirt hanging loosely off of his narrow shoulders, slacks supported only by a tightly-cinched belt.

Why couldn’t she forget? Why did it hurt so much, just thinking about those minuscule details, the simple irregularities that your brain latches onto and never lets go of? Why did she allow him to keep hurting her?

Peter was awesome. Sure, he wasn’t popular and wasn’t conventionally good-looking, but he was funny, good with a snappy comeback, intelligent, quick-witted, kind, honest, loyal…

Gwen was nothing of the sort. She tried to be, sometimes, but it never worked.

Was that why Peter was the hero in every dimension but hers? Was hers an anomaly?

According to her phone, it was 8:22 in the morning. There was no way she was going to fall back asleep at this point.

Gwen got up and sat on the wall of the room. The atmosphere in here reminded her of her granny’s house. From the floral accents to the tchotchkes in every nook and cranny, from the crocheted doilies on wooden tabletops to the weapons of caffeine construction… were there standard old-lady decor rules that she wasn’t allowed to know about? Did they all shop at the same Bath, Bed & Between or something?

It was a shame that May wouldn’t get to be a grandmother. She would have made a good one.

Upon inhaling deeply, she realised why she had woken up in the first place. The smell of coffee and waffles drifted into the room. Normally, Gwen would be out of the room in seconds, but her stomach was twisted into a knot.

“Breakfast is ready!” May called from the kitchen.

Peni bolted upright and rushed out the door, her spider in close pursuit. “Good morning, Gwen!” she bade the older girl as she left.

Gwen clutched her knees to her chest. She wished she still had Peni’s youthful exuberance. She was only sixteen, four or five years older than Peni was, but she sometimes felt more like she was sixty. Was that a normal part of growing up, feeling like you were older than you really were?

Imagine how Peter B. must have felt. Twenty-two years of fighting crime, of battling the dregs and vileness at the bottom of society. Eleven times as long as Gwen had spent doing the same. No wonder he was so worn out.

PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

Well, speak of the devil.

A knock sounded from the door to Gwen’s room. “Hey Gwen, you awake? It’s breakfast time.”

Gwen shook her head, then remembered that Peter B. couldn’t see her from the other side of the door. “I’m not hungry.”

“What’s that?”

Gwen raised her voice, which had inadvertently dropped to a low mutter. “I’m not hungry.”

“You sure? May’s waffles are to die for. At least, they were in my world.”

Gwen detected a hint of mournful nostalgia in Peter B.’s voice. Still, she said nothing.

After a minute, Peter B. spoke up again. “You feel alright, kid?”

Gwen didn’t respond. The silence would speak for itself.

Oh, right. She didn’t want the silence to say anything.

“Go away.”

Peter B. slowly pushed the door open. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re feeling so glum.”

“And I’m not saying anything until you go away.”

Peter B. sat on the wall next to Gwen.

A long silence ensued. Gwen could hear the clattering of cutlery and the distant murmur of conversation in the kitchen.

The silence was deafening. It stifled her thoughts. She was grateful for the silence, though it was tainted by the presence of another person, one who wanted to talk.

Perhaps she should speak first, to prevent Peter B. from commandeering the conversation.

Should she be here?

YES

Gwen finally relented and spoke first. “D’you ever feel like you’re not special? Like you don’t belong ‘cuz you’re too normal?”

“Uh… sometimes. Tell me more.”

At least he didn’t point out that she had broken her pledge.

Out of genuine concern for Peter B.’s emotional state, Gwen asked, “Why don’t you tell me? I’ll do my best to help you out.”

“Because you’re trying to change the subject. Tell me more.”

Gwen hesitated. What could she say that wouldn’t say too much?

“I… don’t really want to.”

“C’mon. Talk to me.” Peter B. sounded more annoyed than he did reassuring.

“Am I bugging you? If I am, I can just go. We don’t have to talk about this. I’ll just eat breakfast, and it’ll all be good.”

“No. It won’t be. You’ve gotta learn to talk about your problems, kid.”

Gwen tried to hide her grimace. It didn’t normally bother her, but she felt aggravated from being called a kid. She hated being treated like a kid. She was sixteen, for crying out loud!

The words flowed out of her before she could stop them.

“I hate being called a kid. I’m not one. Well, legally, I am, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I can do things by myself. I can solve my own problems. I can handle my own emotional crises. I don’t need to talk things out. I’m tough. I’m not gonna let any little mood swings bug me. I’ll seal it all in, and everything will be fine. I’m good at bottling up my emotions.”

Peter B. was silent for a couple moments. So was Gwen. Had she shared too much? Did she need to keep a closer eye on the seal to her inner self? If it popped open without her knowledge, she’d be in trouble.

Finally, the older man spoke up. “You can’t hide from your own feelings.”

“Oh yeah? And why not?” Gwen snapped.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Peter B. waved his hands to get Gwen to calm down. “Because they’re gonna spill out. Just like they did right there.”

“I know they did. I’ve just gotta cork myself up more tightly.”

Peter B. drummed his fingers on the wall for a couple of seconds. He asked, “You know anything about hydraulics?”

“No. Is that, like, a monster from Greece?”

“That’s a hydra. Hydraulics is the use of water pressure to move things.”

“You mean like a power washer?”

“Yeah, kind of. So, uh, power washers work by building up a ton of pressure in the hose leading to the tiny nozzle. Then, when you crank open the valve, the water shoots out of the opening. It can knock over pretty much anything in its path if you pressurise it enough.

“The problem is, you can’t build up too much pressure in the hose. If you do, and if you don’t open the valve, something’s gonna break. A seal’s gonna come loose. The valve might swing open all on its own. The hose could rupture. Something will backfire, no matter how tough the power washer is, if you put enough pressure into it.

“It’s the same way with emotions. You leave yourself bottled up, as you put it, for too long, and with emotional baggage still building up, something bad’s gonna happen. It doesn’t matter how tough or determined you are. You’ll snap. Everything’s gonna go to pieces. That’s why you have to let out the pressure, a little at a time, to ease the load it has on you.”

Gwen thought about what Peter B. had said. It was true, or at least it seemed true. It clicked, even though she didn’t really want it to. It made too much sense. It was too right to be true.

Peter B. asked, “You’ve had a lot of pressure build up in you, haven’t you?”

Gwen inhaled and exhaled. “What if I don’t wanna open the nozzle?”

“Sometimes, you don’t give yourself a choice. Sometimes, it hurts to do that. But it’s never a bad thing, I’ve realised.”

Gwen inclined her head downwards. A valve opened in her heart.

“Peter,” she whispered.

“What?”

“No. Not you. The other Peter. The one from my dimension. My best friend.”

Peter B. edged closer to Gwen. “Tell me more.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about him.”

Gwen nodded. “He was really smart. He was super good at math and science and stuff. He helped me with homework a lot. He made webshooters for me, like three weeks after I got my powers.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He designed the web fluid and everything. He helped make the suit, too.” Gwen cracked a smile as she remembered how kind Peter had been to her.

“The first time I used the webshooters, I fell into a rose bush. But Peter fixed them up, and they worked so much better. He even gave me instructions on how to make more web fluid. I remember adding potassium nitrate instead of potassium sulfate once, and the capsule blew up in my face just before I slotted it in.”

Peter B. chuckled. So did Gwen. A weight that she didn’t know had been there dropped off of her shoulders.

“He was always so nice to me, even though I wasn’t super nice to him back.” Gwen’s smile quickly faded. “I didn’t deserve to have him as a friend. He was too nice, and then I hurt him. I hurt him badly. I hurt him a bunch of times, but he finally snapped. And… that’s why he died.”

“He killed himself?”

“No…” Gwen winced inwardly. “I killed him. He drank a serum to make himself superhuman, but it turned him into a monster. I had to stop him... but he died.”

Peter B. looked solemn.

“I killed him, and you know what’s the worst part? He was jealous of me. Peter was jealous that I had powers and he didn’t, that I was cool and he wasn’t. Nobody should be jealous of me!” Gwen slammed her fist against the wall. A picture swung back and forth.

“I’m not a good person. I’m a terrible person. I pushed my own best friend to self-destruction. He should have gotten the spider-powers, not me. I should be dead, not him. Peter Parker is the Spiderman in all the dimensions except mine. I’m an anomaly. I shouldn’t be here. I’m a ghost.”

Gwen leaned backwards against the wall and exhaled.

Peter B. turned to look at her. “I let Gwen Stacy die.”

Gwen sat upright. “You what?”

“We… we were good friends in my universe. We went to the same college, and she ended up dating my best friend. So Green Goblin took her hostage on top of the Brooklyn Bridge. Then he shot a bomb just as I was about to reach him. It went towards a hospital, and I had to stop it. I couldn’t let everybody in there die. I got rid of the bomb, and then I saw Gwen falling… and I tried to get there, but she hit the river before my webline reached her…. Do you know what happens to you when you hit water at terminal velocity?”

Gwen shivered. An unpleasant memory rocketed through her brain.

Peter B. sniffled and wiped his nose on his wrist.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re not alone. We’ve lost people, too. And we’re here for you. All you have to do is open up that valve, and we’ll be right there alongside you. All of us.”

Gwen nodded solemnly. Did it hurt Peter B. to look at her? Did it hurt him in the way that it had hurt her to look at Spider-Pete, in the way that it sometimes hurt her to look at him?

“Let’s go get breakfast,” she said at last.

Peter B. hopped down from the wall. “Yeah, before the waffles get cold.”

Gwen walked downstairs feeling as light as air. Her chest felt free. No water weighed her down. She could float like a specter if she wanted.

Why did she bother bottling up her emotions, anyway?

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#this chapter speaks to me #stranded #stranded fanfic #gwen stacy #spidergwen #spider gwen #ghost spider #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #fanfiction #spiderverse fanfic #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #marvel #spiderman into the spiderverse #death #long post

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lemon-pixie-blog · 6 years ago

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How Sump Pumps Work

Covered up in the most profound corner of your storm cellar, your sump siphon is for the most part undetectable, yet could be the most essential machine in your home. The sump siphon expels groundwater from underneath your home. Without it, water coming up starting from the earliest stage, streaming in from a substantial rain, could surge your cellar or your entire house. The siphon as a rule sits in a pit worked in your cellar floor or crawlspace. The solid floor is poured marginally downhill when the house is manufactured with the goal that any fluid will stream directly into that pit. The sump siphon discharges the water out of the house.

The siphon sits in the base of the sump gap and has a switch that is initiated by the water level. When you have water in your storm cellar, it streams into the pit, the siphon is initiated, and it siphons the water out of the pit through a release pipe to the outside.

Tip: Plumbing proficient Mark Vander Sande says, "It is unlawful in many states for sump siphon water to release into the city sewer, and it's anything but a smart thought to have the sump siphon release water into a septic tank, as it adds water to the tank. Most sump siphons release outside into the yard."

Platform Pumps

A standout amongst the most widely recognized sorts of sump siphons is a platform siphon. In these sump siphons, an engine is mounted on a little platform. The whole unit as a rule remains around 30 inches tall. A hose or a pipe stretches out down from the engine to the base of the pit.

On a different metal pole, there is a buoy. As the water level in the pit raises and brings down, this buoy climbs and down. This is known as a buoy switch. At the point when the buoy achieves a specific stature (on the grounds that the water level drove it there), it enacts the engine and the water is sucked up through the hose and shot out through another pipe. The engine on this siphon isn't intended to be submerged. The switch will dependably actuate before the water level comes up to the base of the siphon.

Submersible Pumps

Another kind of sump siphon is a submersible siphon. It is an a lot littler unit, for the most part around 12 inches tall, that sits in the base of your sump pit. A few siphons that fall inside this style have a buoy switch on a bar simply like the platform siphon, yet the bar is just around 4 inches in length. The electrical switch itself is encased in a hard plastic air pocket. As the water level ascents, the air pocket glides. When it coasts so high that it achieves a vertical position over the siphon, the switch is initiated and the siphon kicks on.

Not at all like the platform siphon, the submersible siphons don't have an admission pipe that sucks up the water that will be conveyed. Rather, the siphon is found comfortable base of the unit. The water is really sucked right up through the base of the siphon. There are a few advantages to this sort of activity. To start with, if there is any free rock or flotsam and jetsam in your sump pit (and there normally is), the submersible siphon accompanies a screen or a mesh over the essence of the siphon that will keep the trash from being sucked up into the impeller of the siphon. The impeller is the thing that makes the suction, and in the event that it gets harmed, it's a great opportunity to purchase another siphon. Shockingly, this is the thing that murders a ton of the platform style siphons — the hose or pipe that ventures down into the base of the pit sucks up any and everything.

Ejector Pumps

In the event that you do have an application where you should have the capacity to discharge some little flotsam and jetsam, at that point there are siphons that will do that. In the event that you have a crawlspace that isn't concrete, yet just pea rock, for instance, you may require an ejector siphon that can deal with little flotsam and jetsam. These are somewhat pricier, yet are normally built of solid metal and have a 2-inch ejector port rather than the standard 1 ¼-inch port that you find on most sump siphons. This expanded size and an alternate style of impeller enables these siphons to process little bits of rock and flotsam and jetsam without harming the component.

Sewage Pumps

In uncommon occasions, there are still applications for sewage siphons. You truly shouldn't ever require one out of another house since it is illicit to deal with your sewage along these lines all over the place, yet in some more seasoned homes it might even now be an issue. This happens when the majority of the wastewater in the house is piped into the sump pit. This application is extremely uncommon and requires a sewage container with a fixed top for smell.

The majority of your dishwater, shower water, clothes washer waste and indeed, perhaps even the latrine, would be coordinated to stream directly into the base of the sump pit. If so, at that point you require a sewage siphon that will manage whatever solids might stream in.

Set aside the opportunity to look around. Regardless of whether you are purchasing out of the blue or are supplanting a unit that isn't working appropriately, you can locate some incredible arrangements. Endeavor to purchase a unit with a give press lodging a role rather than plastic. On the off chance that the plastic splits for reasons unknown, you have open electrical segments sitting in a pit of water which isn't great. Additionally look at guarantees. The greater part of the real makers offer a full substitution lifetime guarantee on their units. Ensure you enlist your buy with the goal that you can exploit this guarantee should you ever need to.

TIP: Mark proposes, "There is typically a check valve on the release pipe that keeps all the water in the release pipe from returning into the sump opening when the siphon is finished siphoning. In the event that you will supplant the sump siphon it is a smart thought to supplant the check valve. It's more often than not close to the sump container top and is appended with treated steel clips and elastic associations." For more in-depth information about Professional Plumbers In Toronto . I highly recommend this website Professional Plumbers In Toronto and GTA.

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aggressivehasana · 7 years ago

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Starry Night

Fandom: Aggretsuko/Aggressive Retsuko

Characters: Haida, Retsuko, Fenneko, Ookami, Tsunoda, Ton, Resasuke

Relationship: Haida/Ookami

Summary: AU where Retsuko didn’t break up with Resasuke and Haida is dealing with that.

Warnings: None

- - -

CHAPTER 06

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Words: 1,812

Betaed by: @pomp-adourable

A/N: –

Needless to say, it had been gross to see, and even worse, to smell what he could only assume were his own fluids on the maned wolf’s clothes. He felt terribly bad for him, especially about how big the freaking stain was, and he swore to himself that if that thing wouldn’t come off, he would personally buy the wolf three new shirts and three pairs of pants to compensate. And even then… he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at him in the eye again.

Sighing deeply, he flopped down heavily on one of the benches between the washing machines. The second load of clothes, this time of light colors, was starting its first wash cycle, while the first load of white clothes was tumbling wildly inside the dryer. He glanced at the still-waiting load of dark clothes in the basket next to him, and he groaned impatiently, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees and his chin in one of his hands.

Truth be told, sitting in a hot and steamy laundry room for a couple of hours, especially after dealing with a killer hangover, wasn’t ideal. He hated doing laundry. He would usually wait until he’d run out of clean underwear before finally do something about his lack-of-clean-clothes situation. But thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case with Ookami, since his bunch of clothes were hardly enough to fill a medium load. He had only chosen the longest cycle in hopes that it would help remove the stains.

His eyelids fluttered slowly as he stared blankly at the shaky machine in front of him. Despite seeming lost in his own thoughts, he was mindful of his surroundings. He was well aware of the big, hunky tiger cursing repeatedly behind his back, apparently because his white shirts were now tinted blue, for he had washed them along with his jeans; and the old koala lady next to him, trying to school him about washing light clothes and dark clothes separately. He was also aware of the young female hare with earphones using the third machine to his right, and how she was constantly glancing at him while humming and tapping her foot to the rhythm of her music, as she kept unnecessarily holding up her panties and stretching them in front of her face before placing them in the washer. What a pain. He was feeling, and probably looking, at his worst. He really didn’t feel like being anyone’s center of attention.

When the young hare finished loading the machine, she practically slammed the lid shut, making it start its washing cycle as she approached to sit next to him, a little too close for his taste. He was starting to consider taking a trip to the convenience store, but before he could even move a muscle, the girl took off her earphones and turned to him.

“I’ve never seen you before!” she commented in an overly enthusiastic, curious tone, tilting her head a bit while crossing her legs. “Are you new around here?”

He sighed softly, letting his eyes rest closed for a bit before opening them and looking at her.

“Not really,” he limited himself to say. He really didn’t feel like engaging in this conversation.

“Then?” she pressed on, smiling at him widely with big, sparkly eyes. She was probably attempting to look cute for him, but it didn’t work out that well, for instead, it made him feel a little nauseous.

“I’m visiting a friend,” he replied, returning his gaze to the machine in front of him, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed her scooting closer.

“Which friend? Do they live in the building? Maybe I know them!”

What a pain.

“Ookami. From apartment 2B.”

“Oh, I do know him!” she yelped excitedly, clapping her hands together. “He is really cute! So you’re a friend of his?”

“Yeah…” he replied unsurely. Were they really? They would hang out around the office from time to time, but did that make them friends? Especially with what happened the night before… “Something like that, I guess. I don’t know,” he added, and he heard her snort before bursting out laughing.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked mockingly, leaning forward to try to catch his eye. “Did you guys have a fight? Oh! Or perhaps…” she gasped at her own thought. “Don’t tell me you guys are, like…” she raised a hand, forming a “V” with her index and middle fingers before crossing them together.

Haida caught the drift and his eye twitched. He was getting tired of this.

“No,” he said gruffly, unable to help shooting a glare at her. “We’re co-workers.”

“Oh, thank God!” she exclaimed, once again in an over exaggerated tone, raising her hand to her chest and breathing a fake sigh of relief. “It would’ve been a shame; you guys are too cute for that!”

That was it. He’d had enough.

“Well then, maybe I could have both of your num-“

“Excuse me,” he interrupted her, standing up and walking fast to the exit door. The little bell at the top of the door rang as he made his way out without looking back, and he was greeted with the embracing heat of a summer afternoon. It was almost August after all.

As he slowly cruised the aisles of the convenience store across the street, his mind kept going over the conversation he just had with the hare girl. It had left him with a really bad after taste. First of all, he couldn’t help thinking that she reminded him of Tsunoda, and some of the other nosy ladies in the company. If there was one thing he’d learned during his five years of working with people like that, it was to stay as far away from them as possible, before he became a topic for gossip. He didn’t like people snooping in his personal life, much less a stranger. It hadn’t been the implication of him and Ookami having something going on, it was just how bloody invasive that girl had been. Inappropriate! And to think she wanted both his and Ookami’s numbers. Hell, she could be cute, she could be curvy and all, but she was still no match for Retsuko!

…

He stopped his train of thought as soon as she popped in his head.

Retsuko…

He froze for a few seconds while staring blankly at one of the shelves. All the commotion from that afternoon had kept him from thinking about her, but now that she was on his mind…

He’d just realized he hadn’t seen her all day. Well, it was probably for the best, he knew that much. But even though a part of him was aware that hearing from her would only cause him grief, another part kind of wanted to know how the date had gone. Maybe… Maybe they’d had a huge fight and broke up…

No, no. He had to push those thoughts away. Even if it was hurting him, even if he thought the little idiot wasn’t good enough for Retsuko… She was happy. And he had to be happy for her... Right?

He slid his hand into the pocket of his borrowed sweatpants, pulling out his cellphone and looking at the time before sliding his finger over the lock screen. It was 3:54 pm. For a moment he considered calling her, but maybe she wouldn’t be able to pick up, so perhaps … a text? He pressed on the green icon of WeChat and waited for the app to open before selecting Retsuko’s name. Then he started to type:

“Hey Retsuko! Too bad we couldn’t meet today, but I think I’ll be back tomorrow. Hope you didn’t miss me too much!”

He erased that last part.

“Hey Retsuko! Too bad we couldn’t meet today, but I think I’ll be back tomorrow…”

He paused for a bit, re-reading his own sentence a couple of times, and wondering what to say next. Where was he even going with this?

“Hey Retsuko! Too bad we couldn’t meet today, but I think I’ll be back tomorrow. Anyway, I meant to ask how your date had gone? I hope it went fine! Not that I was wondering if it had been otherwise, but…”

He erased that last part again and shook his head.

“Hey Retsuko! Too bad we couldn’t meet today, but I think I’ll be back tomorrow. Anyway, I meant to ask how your date had gone? I hope it went fine! Because you deserve to be happy!”

No, no, no, what was he doing?

“Hey Retsuko! Too bad we couldn’t meet today, but I think I’ll be back tomorrow. Anyway, I meant to ask how your date had gone? I hope it went fine!”

…Then what?

He stared at his own text again, and after a few long seconds he sighed, pressing the backspace to erase everything he had written and he turned off his screen. He slid his phone back in his pocket and took his hands to rub his face.

He was pathetic. Oh God, he was so pathetic.

He pressed his fingertips against his eyes before lowering his hands to his cheeks, only enough to set his gaze at an undefined spot. Just as he was mentally berating himself to stop thinking about her, he noticed that what he had before him on the shelves, were several packs of different flavored instant miso soups. There it was, the distraction he needed. He removed his hands from his face, his mind instantly jumping to the miso soup he had had earlier at Ookami’s apartment. That had been nice of the maned wolf, to share some of it with him, but now he was feeling bad, for not only had he given the younger male a really tough time, he also ate his food. Before touching it, the pot of miso soup had enough for maybe two plates, but after serving himself some, only about half a plate had been left. Maybe he overdid it a bit, with how freaking hungry he had been.

So he furrowed his eyebrows and reached out to grab one of the packs, the Green Onion flavored one. Yeah, he could do that. He could compensate Ookami for all the trouble he had caused by cooking him some dinner. It would also help keep his mind off Retsuko, or the hare girl, or anything else, really. It was settled then.

He took his time carefully picking up more items to serve at the table, along with a couple of sodas and desserts. He then walked up to the cashier, checked out, and then made his way back to the Laundery with the grocery bags in hand. He had to finish his previous duty before he could head back to Ookami’s apartment.

#aggressive retsuko #aggretsuko #haida x ookami #haida #ookami #haikami #starry night fic #hasana fic

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