Just a place to put my doodles. There will be various tags that will separate different works by length, fandom, and content, as well as the appropriate maturity warnings. Enter at your own risk, lol. :P
Sometimes too much of a good thing was all it took to spoil it. The overindulgence killed the novelty and soon after all interest in it died. If that held true, then Rudo should have lost all interest in his roegadyn patron. Each time he tried to speak up, it would take only a word or a touch for his mind to glaze over and forget everything else in the lust of the moment.
It had been weeks since they had become something of a regular occurence. Ever since he had been accosted on the transit that day, Rudo had lost control of his entire life. Not in the sense that everything had fallen to chaos. Far from it, Mr. Crook had taken an active interest in his cafe and with the proper financial backing, he had even added a bathhouse to the building. No, what he lost was any willpower to resist whatever the man wanted.
It wasn't lost on Mr. Crook either. He saw the smirk when the roe would place his hand on his waist, or ask if he would please sign something. It was never done with malice or with what felt like an attempt to get over on him at all. That made it all the harder to say no. And when that request was less business oriented... the best he could manage was a desperate whisper.
Today in particular the cafe was abuzz with activity. There were a group of lalafell deep in their cups of ale but keeping things relatively quiet, a lady roe and her lady hyur holding hands across the table and blushing, and the man that had seen him that day on the transit. He hadn't gotten a chance to look at him before fleeing the scene, but he had been in a few nights since then. He had a broad chest, muscular frame, and his skin was the tone of properly roasted coffee.
He was far from unattractive, even Rudo could tell the man was sculpted well and generously in the right places. But while the man would come in and stare at the hrothgar for minutes at a time, Rudo couldn't muster anything akin to desire for him. The cafe owner sighed in resignation and went back to his work, stirring a pot.
It was a delicious pot of Hippogriff stew. It had been brewing with a colorful assortment of popatoes and carrots in a thick broth. It was the most unrefined item on his menu, but among the regulars it was a favorite. Many noted that it made them feel like they were back at home with their mums.
Rudo was proud of this dish. He always poured himself a bowl after a shift was over and enjoyed it right before heading into the bathhouse. He smiled when he saw the new shift leader bounce into the shop with a certain pep in her step.
"Afternoon boss!" The miqote sang as she crossed the threshold to behind the front counter. With all the frills, you would never realize that she was any kind of threat to everyone. In reality, if she wanted to, she could drop a man in an instant.
"Ah, same to you, Rhaki. What has you so... upbeat?" Rudo teases as she checks the gil in the register. She spares him a glance, dramatic and mischievous.
" Nothing boss! Nothing at all! Finish your soup and take your bath, you old man!" She swats at him in a playful way, earning a few cheers from the lallafells. Rudo merely rolled his eyes and emptied his bowl. They won't be so fond of her if they make a mess of the place.
Rudo stepped into the bathhouse and it was as if it were a different world entirely. He could not help but gawk at all the finery. Mr. Crook had gone for a Hinegan style for the bathhouse. A bit rustic, but it gave it such a soothing flare that he actually fell in love with the design. He removed the necessary clothes and switched to his towel. His golden fur clung to his muscled frame, exposing his fit physique from years of war.
The timid cafe owner had been apart of the Garlean army for years, a slave to their whims as part of their feared Crimson Brigade. As the water ran over his body, he could still feel the tightness where the scars were. Not from battle, no. He had been a warrior without equal. But his conditioning and training and seen him fall under the lashes from whips and torture. They had broken him, and it had taken years to correct that.
Maybe that's why Mr.Crook's ability to make him unable to resist him so uncomfortable despite it being exactly what he wanted. It was too familiar to the suddle ways his handlers used to poke and prod at him, using suggestive wordplay to warn him another beating was to take place that night. He needed to clear his head. Rudo stood, baring himself to the room and stalked over to the executive bath.
It was adorned with various plants and lights, giving it the feeling of some enclosed clearing in a forest. He loved it. It was sound proofed so no one could hear what went on inside, and no one could hear the outside either. He took a long breath and sank in the warmth and safety of the water. He was going to enjoy this moment for as long as he could.
It was only a few minutes before his peace and reverie was broken by the opening of the door. Only one other man had the keys to unlock the private baths. Mr.Crook stepped through the doorway, rippling muscles framed by the steam from the water. The black lines on his skin seemed to glisten and wrap around his body.
"There you are, Cat," his words were like honeyed milk tea. Once he started drinking them in, he couldn't stop until he'd drained the cup. His mouth watered at the way his towel clung to the shape of his plump thighs.
"Mr-Mr.Crook! I thought you wouldn't be here until later tonight?" A full sentence. That was more than he usually could muster.
"Oh? Did you want some time alone? I can leave you to your bath and-"
"No!" It had been a reflex. He hadn't meant to say anything, but instinct had betrayed him and revealed his true desire. It was his, right? Mr.Crook chuckled, undoing his towel and letting it drop. Rudo felt himself gulp as the impressive tool hung low and proud. The roe slowly descended into the water as if he were some siren come to ensnare him in his trap. Maybe he was.
He felt velvet-smooth hands snake their way into his fur, fingers delicately intertwining between the golden, matted strands. Rudo's breath grew heavy as he felt his body give in against his will. But was it truly not his own, or was he merely fighting to control his-
"Stop thinking and just enjoy the ride," He felt the prodding of the roe at his entrance. The digit wasn't rough, but it commanded compliance of which he was eager to concede. Seconds later he was gasping, bouncing on three fingers as Mr.Crook prepared him for what he had planned next.
"Are you ready?" It was a loaded question, for which there could be only one reply.
"Please..."
Mr.Crook hoisted Rudo into his arms, the hrothgar clutching the rugged body pinning him to the wall. He felt the roe's cock slide inside him with ease and his ass grip it with great force. No one outside the room could hear the mix of lust filled whines and guttural roars as the cafe owner was filled to the brim over and over again.
When it was over, he felt himself being lowered into the water, being carefully washed and cleaned, and given a teasing kiss before Mr.Crook sauntered out of the private bath like a beast satisfied from the hunt. His prey lay there, weakened but revitalized all at the same time. He might be weary of... whatever this was, but if he were honest, not an ounce of that fear came from how he felt about the roe. How could he when the man could make them all dissapear with just a touch?
It had been a week... seven days... countless hours. The Hrothgar could still feel the Roe’s touch on his golden fur. That day as he had been filled with the man’s seed, he had been in a state of lustful confusion. At the time, he’d brushed it off and decided that he would think on it no more. However, the encounter settled in the back of his mind throughout the entire week. And when each day was over, he’d leave the Cafe doors open an hour after closing... waiting for another encounter. But it never happened.
After three days, he had considered no longer trying. After five days, he’d convinced himself it had been nothing more than a lewd fantasy. On the seventh night, he promised himself he’d stop. He took a deep sigh, closed up shop, and walked all the way to the transit station. Gridania had implemented a basic transit system, carting large amounts of citizens and adventurers on chocobo drawn carriages. The day must have been particularly busy, as it was full. Well save for one seat. A seat next to none other than the roe he had seen all those days before.
He stared, wide-eyed, as his body stepped forward. All of the thoughts he’d pushed to the side came rushing forth. All the late night fantasies, the early morning daydreams, and moments of weakness in the shower... they compounded in his mind. He was so consumed by them that by the time he had come back to his senses, the carriage was on the move again and he was seated next to the roe. He dared not look him in the eye, giving the man a side long glance. The roe’s eyes were focused straight ahead, not even giving the Cafe owner any attention. Then suddenly, the roe’s eyes darted to meet his own and in panic, the Hrothgar’s gaze flew to the floor. There was a slight chuckle to his left. The Hroth’s cheeks burned in embarrassment.
The cafe owner felt something slide up his thigh and rub circles into the inner section, near his groin. He stifled a yelp and looked to the other passengers. A lot of restoration construction workers, a handful of farmers, and a mother with her baby. At the angle they were in, it would be difficult to see whatever they were doing, but with how crowded it was, if he made any sudden movements or sounds, they would be found out immediately.
He was forced to sit still as he felt the man’s hand grope and squeeze his thighs. The Hrothgar’s breath began to shake; his uniform began to feel tight on his body. The cloth of his black shorts strained as his muscles tensed. The buttons on his white shirt held on for dear life across his broad chest. His face felt warm. His eyes began to dart around in distress, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Surely someone else could hear it?
The hand moved to his cock and the cafe owner nearly gasped in shock. The fingers seemed to breathe life into his member. He shivered. It was as if every one of his prayers had been answered, but he was teetering on the edge of a disaster. There was only so much more he could suffer in silence. His grip on the edge of the bench made his claws scrape against the wood. His boots shuffled in agony. He could not suppress the grunts that slipped from his mouth. His tail twitched and curled. He felt close, closer than that day a week ago.
Right before he could decided to say to hell with it and give in to his desires, the carriage stopped and he widened eyes he hadn’t been aware he was in the midst of closing. It was his stop. He swiftly got up and walked off the transit, noticing the man to his right, a well built Hyur, turn his head to the side, blushing. Had he seen? Did he know? The paranoia in his heart carried him to the street and towards his apartment. He hadn’t even realized he’d forgotten all about the roe until he was pressing the keys into his door. Which is when something pressed hard against his back.
He turned swiftly, only for his lips to be caught in a gentle but demanding kiss. It wasn’t suddle, it demanded his submission and as weak as his body felt, he couldn’t have resisted if he tried. He didn’t. He gave in, let the powerful man take him, the flow wash over him. Somewhere in his ecstasy, the key had been turned, the door had been closed, and his body found itself on the bed. He backed up to the headboard as the Roe, dressed impeccably as before, stood before him.
“Undress me.”
It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t inclined to treat it like it was. The Hrothgar scrambled back to the edge of the bed and stumbled off, moving to loosen the tie and remove his jacket. He took care to place them on the hangers in his room. He was... afraid? Excited? Confused? All of these things and more. But the strongest feeling was lust. He moved to follow suit with the pants to reveal silk briefs. The Hrothgar peeled them back and marveled at the cock beneath. He took the chance to look over at the Roe’s swollen chest; tatted, pale skin, and eyes that burned into his memory.
“I’ve watched you, cat. Seen how much you wanted me. Waited for me. I told you I would return, but you just couldn’t help yourself. So... desperate. I like it.” The Roe’s voice was... soft, in a way that hid something dangerous. And he was indeed dangerous.
“Rudo, sir. My name is Rudo.” The cafe owner whispered.
“I know that. I know that and so much more. Right now, there is something more important to deal with. Wouldn’t you agree?” The roe teased. The Hrothgar nodded, and took him in his mouth.
It grew in Rudo’s maw, caressing the roe’s cock with his tongue. He teased the head and used his free hands to play with the swollen balls swinging by his jaw. He was rewarded with the roe’s hands running through his mane and giving him a slight tug. He hummed in approval, and the man took the cue to fuck Rudo’s face. The Hrothgar could feel himself grow as he was used by the powerful stranger.
Rudo was lifted onto the bed, his back to the covers. There was a lack of urgency that was so present the first time as the cafe owner was worked open by the Roe’s fingers. It was slow, torturous, and felt like forever before skillful touch was replaced by his cock head. In an instant, his hole was filled with the man’s meat. The brutal pace of the man’s fucking drove the breath from Rudo’s body.
“Sir! Ah! Sir, it feels so good!” Rudo was beside himself with pleasure. His loud chants turned into desperate whimpers as his ass was drilled relentlessly. It took mere moments before his own wildly bouncing cock let loose, spilling all over his own chest and face. Two violent thrusts, and the roe wasn’t far behind, roaring like a beast securing its kill. The next few moments filled the room with heavy breathing and panting.
Rudo closed his eyes waiting for the receding steps of the stranger. What he did not expect to hear, however, was them returning. He opened his eyes to see the man strut over with a damp cloth. He cleaned himself and then proceeded to clean Rudo.
“Sir?..”
“You will refer to me as Mr. Crook. We have business to discuss in the morning, so the Cafe will be closed for the day. I have plans for it. A nice... bathhouse.” The roe moved Rudo over and tucked him in. In that moment, Rudo realized just how much bigger than him Mr. Crook really was. The man was an entire two heads taller and his muscles made him much bulkier.
“Yes Sir.” There was something going on that he wasn’t entirely sure of, but Rudo was in too much of a sexual haze to do much but burrow in and pass out.
Silence crept throughout the Cafe, tiptoeing along the crimson walls and dancing on the tabletops. Only the subtle humming from further in the building gave any sign of life. The culprit, of course, was the owner itself. A golden-furred Hrothgar was drying his hands on a towel, having just finished cleaning the last dish from the sink. He shook his dark blond mane to dislodge residual water from himself and set his glasses behind his ears. It had been a long day, and he had been pushed to his limit. If only he had some help... he was aware that the opening was recent however, so he’d need to rough it alone for awhile before could afford another employee.
Suddenly, the door to the Cafe opened. The Hrothgar could have sworn he had placed the closed sign on the window. Straightening his white shirt, he crossed the doorway and walked into the dinning area.
“Excuse me, I’m so very sorry but...” He was stopped mid sentence by what he saw.
Standing just a few steps into the building was a Roegadyn. He held his jacket over his shoulder, leaving him in a sleeveless black top that plastered itself onto his skin. That left the outline of his swollen chest exposed to the Hrothgar’s sight. Even his breathing caused them to tremble slightly. The man’s cropped cut was perched upon a quizzical face, as if waiting for something.
The Cafe owner swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. It took a moment before he could compose his thoughts, but all he managed to do was control his breathing. The Roe shrugged his shoulders and walked over to a table. Taking a seat, he took a relaxed pose and lifted his fingers to snap. The sharp sound made the Hroth’s heart skip and suddenly approach the table. He responded out of purest habit.
“What can I do for you, Sir?” He parroted.
The man stared at the menu, licking his lips slowly, like a predator savoring his kill. The Hrothgar was able to observe the various black tattoos adorning his fair skin. It sent an odd shiver through the Cafe owner that he had never experienced before. He was so distracted he hadn’t noticed that the man was staring back at him. The man fixed his face into a sly, savage grin.
“I’ll have the best dish you can make,” His voice was a low growl that didn’t sound angry. It was almost... playfully savage? Regardless, The tone warranted no argument, and the Hrothgar hurried off to start making the plate. Why was he doing this? Why hadn’t he told the man to go away? He couldn’t understand what what going on in his head. He took a deep breath and decided that the sooner he completed this, the sooner he could be done.
The Hrothgar stared down at the perfectly cooked Dodo Steak coated in a savory red sauce. Despite the odd situation, he was proud of his craft. Taking a deep breath, he walked out, tray in hand. As he drew the Hrothgar’s attention, the black shorts he wore suddenly felt far too skin tight and desperately in need of more cloth. He placed the dish in front of the man and bowed.
The man unfolded his thick arms and looked at what had been placed before him. He plucked a glove off his hand and swiped a finger across the sauce, letting it gather on the tip before holding it up.
“Taste,” The Roe demanded. At the Hrothgar’s hesitation, his gaze sharpened, “I watched you fix this, and you didn’t taste it to make sure it was good. Now taste.”
The Cafe owner reached down for the spoon before watching the look on the Roegadyn’s face harden. He took a deep breath and leaned down, curling his tongue around the proffered finger. As his lips closed around it, the Hrothgar hummed. The sweet and savory flavor swirled in his mouth, and the digit protruding into his maw added a new sensation. He sucked on it without thought. He could feel and hear himself purring. Immediately, he retreated and his fur ran hot.
“I guess it’s good after all,” The man chuckled, smirking arrogantly at the fumbling server. Embarrassed by his unexplained behavior, the Cafe owner stuttered an excuse. The Roe must have foreseen this, because he immediately held up a hand to silence him.
“No need. I got what I wanted, so I am fine,” He turned back to his food and the Hrothgar immediately took the moment to try to scurry away. But the moment he did, he felt a hand place itself on his back thigh and trace up toward his rear. The loud yelp from the Cafe owner was the reward. He quickly turned around to say what was on his mind, but the face he was greeted with left him at a loss for words. His eyes pierced any resolve the lion man could muster.
Without breaking eye contact, the Roe lifted his shirt above his head and tossed it to the floor. He licked his lips as he began to massage his large pecs. His meticulous fingers gently squeezing them in the right way to accentuate their firm shape.
“Come here,” He whispered. The Hrothgar walked over before he could think to stop himself. The Roegadyn smiled as he stopped dead in front of his chair, which he then turned outward and spread his legs wide. The Cafe owner dropped to his knees and nuzzled under the man’s exposed chest. He couldn’t describe what was happening, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.
“Taste,” the Roe commanded. Again, the authority in his voice was unmistakable... and undeniable.
“Yes Sir,” the Hroth lapped at the man’s chest without hesitation, catching the skin between his lips and giving it a gentle suck. Why wasn’t he saying something, stopping this? Why didn’t he resist? Gentle, stifled noises drifted from the man, killing his train of thought. He moved closer to the man’s nipples, taking one in his mouth and nursing on it, flicking the nub with his tongue/
After several minutes of the Cafe owner’s teasing ministrations, his head was pulled back and he was kissed roughly by the Roegadyn. The man pulled back and grabbed the Hroth by the waist and hauled him off to the private room. Tossing him on the table, the man snatched his shorts down and grabbed the Cafe owner’s cock in his hands. Giving it a gentle stroke, he took his other hand and gently poked at his hole. The quivering bud almost sucked his wandering finger inside him. The Roe hummed appreciatively.
“Looks like someone knows his way around a nice cock. But are you ready for one better than the rest?” He teased and he lowered his black slacks to reveal his plump, aching cock.
“Y-yes Sir,” The Hrothgar moaned. The man rubbed his shaft along the hole, which cause the Hrothgar to whine. The needy, begging tone made something stir in the Roe. He paused but a moment more before taking the olive oil on the table and pouring it into the lion man’s hole. He massaged his cock in it for but a moment before lining it up to his waiting ass.
The Cafe owner could feel the burn as the cock pushed itself inside him. His grip tightened as the intrusion took a while to adjust to. As soon as he did, however, the Roe wasted no time drilling into his depths, pumping in and out at a vicious pace. He slapped the lion man’s ass as he fucked, sending pleasure rushing throughout his body.
“S-sir! I... I...!” The blush crept into his face as his voice went from words to unrelenting whines and moans for more. He couldn’t clear his head because the brutal pace held a grip on his mental state. He was mesmerized by the wild bounce of the Roe’s pecs as his destroyed his hole. All the while, he continued to stroke the lion man’s cock. He could feel the buildup in his balls demanding release soon.
“Cat, I’m gonna fill you up. Get ready!” The pounding went from brutal to uncontrolled. The man was indeed close and so was the Cafe owner.
“Yes Sir! Please, breed me!” The lion man roared as he could feel the Roe unload inside him. The cock inside him pulsed and seemed to grow in size as it pumped more and more cum inside him. Each thrust seemed to push it deeper and deeper, until the Cafe owner could have sworn he could taste it. At that point, the Roe turned his cock towards the lion man and pumped it vigorously. Soon, the Hrothgar came, shooting all over his shirt, mane, and face.
When he finally came down from his orgasm, the owner collapsed onto the table, covered in sweat and cum. The man’s deposit left a messy creampie, leaking a steam of sticky cum down his leg. The Roe leaned over and licked the lion man’s face. He stuffed placed a sizable bag beside the lion man’s head.
He leaned into the side of the Hrothgar’s face and whispered, almost breathing into his ear, “A tip... for a well prepared dish. Keep your doors open, Cat. I’ll be back to dine again.”
The Cafe owner was exhausted. He could barely move his head, and settles for loudly muttering his response before passing out.
All the lore that rolled through should be a breath of fresh air to the Mchanzo fandom but instead I see all this anger and aggression. Let me let you in on a secret: her lore makes McCree a better candidate for Hanzo and I will tell you how.
Originally, complaints about Mchanzo stem from them living in completely different and unrelatable backgrounds. But we have recently learned that McCree was a FOUNDER of Deadlock. He was no lackey, but the second head of a criminal organization. He redeemed himself and has taken to a life on the run. Meaning that he understands the path Hanzo is trying to take and is more equipped to help him.
He is no paragon of justice. He understands the moral grey area of life. When Ashe had the train derailed, he was focused on his goal and considered the other goods collateral. He has always lived in the moral grey area (deadlock, blackwatch, mercenary) and it has clearly affected his decision making. He clearly had a rough upbringing since Deadlock became his family, meaning his own home life was lacking. McCree and Hanzo will probably both been wanting for a close family structure, and he won't get hung up on Hanzo's past. Free ticket to slide up in those DMs.
Tl;DR: McCree isn't the country hick we make him out to be and is definately capable of standing as Hanzo's equal. He has compassion, tact, and quick wit. And we know this thanks to Ashe. So I love her. ;P
Unpopular fact/opinion but the dva short was all admittingly good flash but no substance and did nothing for dva or the world except that the dva in game is a personality she puts on
By that logic, Bastion’s short did nothing but establish what we already knew about the lore in cinematic form. Solider76’s told us more about the girl than it did him. Reinhardt’s was only a thinly veiled jab at charging Reinhardt players. Just because we didn’t get some tear-jerking sonnet about how D.Va lost her parents and leg in the war and her entire team was violently murdered doesn’t mean it was pointless. And this is from someone who doesn’t care for D.Va.
Hana Song and D.Va are two different people, and she tries to keep those lives separate from people she truly cares for, like an actual celebrity. But she is a war hero, and as the line blurs, the stress and danger take it’s toll. She actually did die in the short (Catch the defibrillators trying to revive her) and one day she won’t be able to come back. And they are fighting a enemy they more than likely know that can’t defeat. It’s more about lowering casualties. The short was about humanizing a larger than life personality that a celebrity would wear as a facade. Just like Reinhardt’s was about humanizing a larger than life personality by giving a realistic backstory to a veteran of war.
It didn’t leave us as broken souls with no way of recovering for weeks (Damn you Blizzard, Reinhardt was a low blow) but it had just as much a story to tell as everyone else’s and by that standard it fits just fine. :)
But the bastion and Reinhardt shorts DID suck. In fact the only good shorts so far have been recall and that tracer widowmaker one. Every other one has been… disappointing to say the least
Beg to differ there. Sombra's established various important links between Russia and the Omnics as well as Sombra's relationship with Reaper and her as a character. Reinhardt established that Reinhardt actually wasn't recruited to join Overwatch, it was his mentor. And that Reinhardt's foolhardy attitude was a direct cause to the iconic death featured in Eichenwald. Bastion re-established lore but also confirmed that Bastion is a defective omnic that can in fact become more violent and dangerous. Shimada's established backstory and purpose for two characters as well as being a flashy attention grabber for interested parties new to the game. They were all great and served a purpose to both the lore and the characters as a whole. So... yeah... YOU may not care for them, but that doesn't make them bad.
Unpopular fact/opinion but the dva short was all admittingly good flash but no substance and did nothing for dva or the world except that the dva in game is a personality she puts on
By that logic, Bastion's short did nothing but establish what we already knew about the lore in cinematic form. Solider76's told us more about the girl than it did him. Reinhardt's was only a thinly veiled jab at charging Reinhardt players. Just because we didn't get some tear-jerking sonnet about how D.Va lost her parents and leg in the war and her entire team was violently murdered doesn't mean it was pointless. And this is from someone who doesn't care for D.Va.
Hana Song and D.Va are two different people, and she tries to keep those lives separate from people she truly cares for, like an actual celebrity. But she is a war hero, and as the line blurs, the stress and danger take it's toll. She actually did die in the short (Catch the defibrillators trying to revive her) and one day she won't be able to come back. And they are fighting a enemy they more than likely know that can't defeat. It's more about lowering casualties. The short was about humanizing a larger than life personality that a celebrity would wear as a facade. Just like Reinhardt's was about humanizing a larger than life personality by giving a realistic backstory to a veteran of war.
It didn't leave us as broken souls with no way of recovering for weeks (Damn you Blizzard, Reinhardt was a low blow) but it had just as much a story to tell as everyone else's and by that standard it fits just fine. :)
Sorry I have been gone for so long, I had to take personal time to take care of some things. While I was doing that, I was struck by inspiration! I had an amazing idea and began building characters, a story, and a world around that vision. I want to make it into a comic or manga format... But there is a problem. I can't draw. So I need help. I can, of course, pay you for your time and efforts. Message me if you are interested and/curious about what I have planned. Thank you in advance.
Well I do know that Hanzo felt incredibly bad about having to kill his own brother and he left Hanamura to seek redemption. But what bothers me is that he seems to hate Genji just because he is a cyborg now and we know that Hanzo did that to him. I wanna know what you think about that (I always wanted to talk about that with somebody and you seem the right person to answer it. (Also I love your art and the content of your blog xoxo))
I definitely think he has a lot of awful opinions about omnics, about human ‘purity’ vs cybernetic enhancements (WHICH BECOMES ALL THE MORE DELICIOUS IF HE HIMSELF HAS CYBORG LEGS) and I think he’s wrong and with time he’d realize that’s all horseshit, same as all the other horseshit his family’s fed him his entire life
I think it lies more in the fact that Genji's existence is a constant, living reminder of his shame. That instead of him finding peace in death his is instead alive, but a shell of a man (In Hanzo's mind). Instead of being granted the peace of death (again, Hanzo's thought process will never fail to amuse me) he is a tortured corpse that wasn't allowed to pass into the next life. That being said, I think he hates more that technology has robbed his brother of peace rather than omnic-centric prejudice. Of course there could be voice lines or future info that could prove me wrong (And if such evidence exists, please do), but so far he honestly just seems to hate everyone (Save McCree. And yes, I do find that weird in an amusing way.)
A man of great magical powers is sent off to save the world. And no matter the circumstances, he always wins. But upon finishing his latest quest, he his stopped by a group of 5 young women, each with different weapons and dress. Without word they attack with the intent to kill him, and they fight to a standstill. It's then they reveal they are his daughters from different realities. At the risk of causing a paradox, his daughter from the future of this reality sent them here to kill him because in this reality he destroys the entire world. They see no evil in him however, and refrain attacking. He takes then home to meet his family so they can see that he will never become such a threat. And there they meet his husband/wife, the very reincarnation of evil in all of their own realities that their fathers died defeating.
Fandom: Overwatch/Mchanzo (Sexual McReapzo) Past McReyes
Warnings: Non-Con, Mind Control, Forced Submission, Various Sexual Activities, Mind-Break
A/N: Not for the faint of heart. Don't worry, it's not abusive between the two, but it might make you uncomfortable. Obviously NSFW!!! Part 2 will be fluff I promise!!
×××
You would have needed to be both deaf and blind not to notice it. It was like the air was as dense as water, the feeling was so present. Ever since Jesse McCree had finally answered the recall, the entire mood in the base had shifted. It was supposed to have been a happy and welcome addition to the team. It was anything but.
Angela smiled and made small talk, sure, but Jesse could tell it wore on her more and more to be around him. He figured maybe he reminded her a little too much of Gabe. Still, she tried, and he wasn't going to make things worse by avoiding her.
Mei, Lucio, Hana, Lena, Winston, and Reinhardt were more jovial than that. Each had made an effort to make the cowboy feel at home, to feel welcome. However, each attempt ended in either complete chaos with Lucio and Hana paralyzing his prosthetic during a friendly combat simulation, awkward silence with Lena and Mei since McCree didn't have the most law abiding story to regale them with about his life and they were clearly uncomfortable with what little he did share, and Winston was so busy he ended up avoiding Jesse by obligations alone. Only Reinhardt truly understood what it meant to be where they had been only to plummet from grace to infamy.
The worst by far, however, were the two Shimada brothers. Genji was no longer the brooding, angry warrior of vengeance he had been when he'd been in Blackwatch. He seemed more at peace and happier than he'd ever been. Something about how his former teammate had managed to find not only is inner peace but also a newfound purpose ate at the gunslinger. All he'd done was avoid the authorities and rack up the largest bounty this side of New Mexico.
Hanzo was an entirely different beast. His stare was cold and calculating, as if he was still deciding if he should kill them all or make them suffer first. McCree had tried several times to speak, but every time he did the ex-Yazuka would simply turn around and leave. Even when they were forced to be together, Hanzo made sure he was bodily as far away from the cowboy as possible, to the point of impractical.
The feeling in the base was stifling. Jesse almost choked on it daily, and he'd only been back a month. He hated it; it felt nothing like the Overwatch he once knew. It had changed. 'Or maybe I'm the one who's changed,' he thought bitterly.
Either way he wouldn't be able to take this much longer. When Winston called him for a field assignment, he almost cried with relief. He all but ran to the debriefing room, half out of desperation to escape, and half because he was late.
"Sorry Winston, didn't mean to be-"
Standing on the other side of the table staring him down was none other than Hanzo himself. McCree's eyes widened against his will and he opened his mouth to protest. But Hanzo was faster.
"You are late."
Jesse recovered and fixed him with a glare. Then he smirked, "Well I had to find some way to get your attention, with you avoiding me an' all. What better way than a dramatic entrance," McCree lifted an eyebrow, daring the Shimada brother to rebuttal.
"It was far from eye catching, of that you can be assured," he turned to Winston, dismissing McCree's presence entirely. The cowboy rolled his eyes and gave his attention to Winston.
"Ahem, Agents McCree and Hanzo thank you for joining me. We have received intelligence of the location of a secret Talon operation working out of the North American Omnic Research facilities. We need you two to get in, identify what's going on, and neutralize any threats you find."
"If'n you don't mind me askin, why isn't Genji here? He would be more suited to sneaking around than me," McCree proded. His desire to escape had been soured by the elder brother's attitude.
Winston didn't miss a beat, "Excellent question! Due to the nature of the information you gave us in regards to the heist on the train, we believe a large portion of the blackwatch division has been absorbed by Talon. You know their tactics better than anyone else here."
McCree grunted in response.
"Alright, you both need to head to training bay for a brief combat refresher, and then prepare to leave early tomorrow."
xxx
If you would have told McCree a bow and arrow had anyplace on the battlefield, he would have laughed in your face and told you to check into the med bay. But seeing was believing, and he could hardly believe it.
Hanzo was as fast as a bullet and twice as lethal. Bots fell left and right as he moved closer to their goal. McCree wasn't struggling to keep up, but the archer was on another level. They hadn't missed a beat until a group of 12 had them pinned behind some cover.
"You got a plan there, buddy?"
"Yes," Hanzo notched an arrow onto his bow and stood.
"RYUGA WAGA TEKI WO KURAU!"
The arrow flew into one skull and pinned it down. But the air grew electric and full of energy. Soon enough, phantasmal azure dragons erupted into existence and ripped the other apart, almost like they'd eaten them. When all was said and done, the land was barren and the pathway clear. Without hesitation, Hanzo pressed forward towards their goal.
Their audience (the rest of the base) cheered vibrantly as they completed the course in record time. McCree heard none of it. His eyes were stuck on the man before him, his strength, grace, power, and form. It summoned emotions he could barely understand, something he hadn't felt since...
But there was no point in thinking of ghosts of the past. Jesse preferred to keep those demons buried, no matter how much they refused to die.
xxx
The morning came and with it the anticipation of the mission. McCree met up with Hanzo at the hangar. The man looked at McCree and gave a polite nod before turning into the dispatch craft. Stunned, he followed him inside with his revolver clipped into his holster.
The ride was as silent was one would have expected it to be, but the tension of the day before was gone. There was a comfortable silence that felt almost cosy if McCree were being honest. Hanzo was deep in meditation, eyes closed and breath almost nonexistant. McCree stared at him, peacful and yet poised to strike at a moment's notice.
With a slight lurch, the aircraft came to a stop at their destination. The building as long since abandonded. No one had been inside since the Omnic Crisis, too afraid of what they might find. McCree gave Hanzo a quick nod and they took off down the main entrance.
The silence didn't sit well with McCree. If the Talon agents were here, why wasn't the place guarded. Hanzo took point; Peacekeeper was far from silent and they didn't want to attract attention. Watching the man move silently around each room, inspecting every place where an ambush could be waiting, McCree could tell he'd done something like this before, and enough times to be good at it.
When they came to their third empty room, McCree gave Hanzo the signal to group up. They joined up at a computer terminal.
"It is far too silent, should there not be guards or patrols of some kind?" Hanzo mused.
"At the very least, someone should be here retrieving the data they were supposed to be looking for," McCree agreed, "I'll see what I can find on this thing here."
Hanzo nodded, "I will scout ahead."
Hanzo turned to leave, but hesitated. McCree waited to see what he was going to say.
"Be... be careful, McCree."
McCree knew his face betrayed his surprise. He didn't mean to, but he never expected to hear those words again. Least of all from the eldest brother. He shook it off and nodded.
"Yeah, don't lose your head out there," McCree didn't think about what he'd said until after Hanzo disappeared down the next hallway.
Turning his attention to the terminal, McCree set to getting what info he could from it. Halfway into giving up, he radioed for assistance, and Winston helped to guide him through the process. It wasn't anything ground breaking, just a machine that could enter the subconsciousness. Winston sighed but McCree still transferred the information to them.
Done with his task, McCree realized it had been the better part of 20 minutes. He frowned and drew his revolver. Hanzo should have been back by now. Just as he made his way towards the same hallway Hanzo had, he felt it. The air crackled with energy, like a thunderstorm. He heard the familiar roar of the dragons from the day before. Without thinking, McCree took off in the direction he felt the energy coming from.
When he finally rounded the corner, he was stuck to tbe ground by the sight before him. Hanzo on his knees, face contorted in agony as none other than former blackwatch scientist Moira dug her nails into his arm sinking them deep into the tattoo pattern. It glowed blue, and pulsed as if it were being drained from him like blood.
"Ahhhhh!!!"
Hanzo's cry of agony awoke his limbs and in an instant he knew what he needed to do. Time slowed down and he aimed the revolver right at her head. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger but, Moira was gone. Before McCree could rush to his side, she reappeared and shot a dart into Hanzo's neck. McCree fired two more rounds, catching her in the arm. She was forced to retreat.
Hanzo collapsed into a heap. McCree ran over to him and took him into his arms, shaking him gently.
"Hey, Hanzo, wake up for me now, okay?," no response, " Genji will kill me if I don't come back with you, so I need you to hang on for me, okay?"
He could hear the panic seeping into his voice more and more. He pushed the radio reciever once more and waited for Winston's call-sign.
"Agent Mc-"
"Hanzo down!! We need an evac now! I'm losing him!"
"Agent McCree calm down, we'll get an evac to your position as soon as possible, can you explain what happened?"
"That bitch came back! She should be dead, they should all be dead! Why doesn't anything stay dead?" McCree broke, crying into Hanzo's lap as he held him close.
Time slowed for some time as he rocked back and forth, sorting out everything he was feeling while at the same time trying desperately to keep it together. When he at last gave up, he merely sat there, motionless but vigilant. He wouldn't lose another to that insane woman. Not again. That's how Genji found him, tear-stained as he clutched Hanzo in one arm and aimed Peacekeeper at the doorway with the other.
xxx
McCree hardly remembered the events of the next week. Hanzo remained on life support, suffering from a fever rendering him comatose. Genji visited every day, but McCree never lefr Hanzo's side. He couldn't pull himself away, no matter how hard he tried. He hadn't even had the chance to sort out how he was beginning to feel before his past had come back to take it away from him.
He'd briefed Winston on what happened, and hadn't heard from either him or Angela that entire week. Instead, Lucio checked the vitals, gave McCree some food, and beg him to leave so he could take care of himself.
He refused to leave.
Three days after the first week, Angela came by and requested his presence in the briefing room. Before he could refuse, Angela promised it was about helping Hanzo, that they couldn't do it without him. Reluctantly, he agreed.
Genji, Angela, and Winston were gathered in the room, a helmet placed on the table in the center. McCree looked each of them in the eye before closing them and taking a deep breath.
"What's this all about, now?"
Winston coughed and took a step forward, "We have reason to believe Hanzo has been compromised."
Angela immediately came to Winston's side when McCree looked ready to yell, "The contents of the sedative were laced with nanobots that affect the subconscious mind. This might be how they've been recruiting so many Blackwatch members. It's suddle. Not full control, but enough to fool the person to believe they are making their own decisions."
McCree bit down what he was going to say. He knew it would be a sore subject for all in the room.
"So what do we do?" McCree broke the silence.
"The schematics of the machince you gave us were enough to allow us to build a reliable prototype. We can use to dive into his subconscious and see what's happening," Winston elaborated.
"But it's been 10 days already. What if... if..." McCree struggled to finish the thought.
"I believe the dragons are helping him to fight the influence," Genji interjected, "But they are not all powerful spirits. If we do not act soon, my brother will be lost to us."
"So what are we waiting for, hook Genji up to the machine and-"
"I am sorry, Jesse, it can not be me. The dragons, in their weakened state, will see me as a threat and fight me. If they do not focus on the witch, she will win." Genji turned to Angela.
"McCree, it needs to be you. Other than Genji, you are the only person he has ever been around. We know it's only been a day since, but we don't have any other options. I would not gamble on his life if we did, you know this."
As much as he hated to admit it, McCree knew she was right. He was their best option. The cowboy turned to Winston.
"Let's get it done then," McCree took a deep breath and stepped forward. Angela handed him the helmet and a second, slimmer version.
"You"ll put this on. When we start the procedure, we will be watching vitals, but that will be it. We won't be able to see anything else at all. You'll need to get into there, locate where his mental state is strongest and get rid of Moira's foreign influence."
McCree nodded and made his way back to the room. He sat next to Hanzo's bed and took his hand. McCree squeezed it tight, "I promise, she ain't taking you from us." With a final deep breath, McCree placed the helmet on his head and laid back in the other bed in the room. Slipping into a deep sleep, McCree was uneasy but determined to do now what he couldn't back then.
xxx
McCree could feel it before could see anything. The atmosphere was humid and tense. It took but a second to look around and see what was happening. Hanzo was pinned to the wall of a solitary room. He was stripped down to nothing, baring everything to him. McCree was grateful no one else could see this, see the proud warrior torn down like this. Hanzo's face was flushed red, and he looked like he was exhausted. The other occupant, Moira, spoke up.
"It's his own fault, you know. He resists so much, though to what end I can't understand. I will succeed, and the dragons shall be mine. It's only a matter of wearing him down, of stripping him of his sense of self, until only obedience remains," her clinical attitude was wearing thin on McCree. He made to spring forward, only to be held in place. He struggled, but made no purchase.
"You fail to realize that I am in control here," she snapped, "Now be a dear and help me cull this one."
Against his desires, McCree stripped himself and moved closer. He fought with every ounce of strength in him, but still he moved forward. He stood in front of Hanzo, who bent down on his knees, sweating with pain from resisting Moira's influence.
"If you give a beast what it desires, it will accept you and obey you like a dog. Let's test this, shall we?"
McCree couldn't budge, flaccid cock inches from Hanzo's lips. His head turned and he saw what she was doing. Or rather, what Commander Gabe was doing. Dark skin disappeared as he slipped his fingers in and out of Hanzo's puckered hole. The archer grunted as Jesse watched helplessly. He tried to remember what she had done before, that this was another trick, but watching this thick fingers curl inside Hanzo brought back memories he had long hidden away.
His cock hardened, stretching the distance to Hanzo's mouth, prodding his lips. With a twist of his fingers, Gabe punched the breath from Hanzo, a gasp of surprise as the digits must have found and began the abuse of his sensitive prostate.
"Wait, not there, it... I... I can't..." Hanzo begged.
It was starting. McCree knew this all too well. Hanzo was starting to break, Gabe's skill was too much. He could see the sudden way Hanzo's hips were beginning to buck back against the probing. The way his eyes started to glaze over, mouth slightly ajar.
"Please..." Hanzo weeped.
"Please what?" Gabe growled.
"Please... give me... more..." and with that, the Shimada brother was done. His body lurched forward and swallowed McCree whole as he gave himself up to his lust. Gabe removed his fingers and stepped behind Hanzo. Hanzo removed his lips from McCree's cock, and McCree felt a deep need to force it back.
"Please, do not stop. Please, give me more!! Please, claim me, make me yours. Fill me with every inch of you!!" Hanzo shamlessly begged him. Gabe merely chuckled as he thrust his dark, thick meat inside Hanzo's abused hole.
"Yes, I can feel you inside me, filling me. Please, use me!" Hanzo cried. McCree felt himself get harder with each word. Gabe pulled Hanzo's hair back as he plowed him viciously. McCree caught Gabe's lips and slipped his tongue inside, losing his head as he gave in and took everything he'd ever wanted. Hanzo caught him in his lips again and McCree fucked his throat without a seconds thought.
McCree could feel himself chasing his orgasm as he felt Gabe bite and tongue his nipples, squeezing his chest. He could feel Hanzo play with his hole, two wet fingers rimming his ass. He hoped it was lubed with precum. Hanzo took his mouth from McCree and began to pump him with his hands.
"I'm so close," Hanzo wimpered, "I need it. I need you to fill me. Thrust deep inside and breed me!!"
And that's when all hell broke loose.
McCree and Gabe were thrown against the wall. The scene was bathed in a familiar blue light that both scared and comforted McCree. Gabe shook his head and looked around.
"Kid?" Gabe muttered. He looked dazed and confused but nothing like the wraith he'd come to despise. McCree didn't have a chance to do much else, because his attention was on the two serpentine dragons coiled around Hanzo. They were protecting him from Moira's control. They locked eyes with him and he felt their presence and power flow through him, wild and angry. He felt that anger and let it fuel him. Standing up, he took aim and let loose against Moira, who could only stand there, eyes alight with surprise and fury before she was blown away into dust.
The light settled and McCree rushed to Hanzo. The man was barely awake, his breath shallow. Hanzo seemed to glow an odd shade of gold before he too vanished. McCree stood and turned towards the only person left in the room.
Gabe kept his eyes to the ground. McCree had so many things to say, he didn't know where to start. But his body acting of it's own choice and before he knew it his arms were wrapped around his ex-commander's body and his face was burriee into his chest. It was only a moment before he returned the hug, running his hands through McCree's hair.
"I can't stay long, kid," he muttered, "Moira is gonna wake up soon and unhook me. Then I'll be back where I was. I'm sorry." McCree waited for a while longer before he pulled back and looked at Gabe, "Before you ask, I was brought in here in case you tried to save your friend. He wasn't her only target, she wanted both of you. But whatever those glowing things were, they short circuted her tech, so-"
"I missed you," Jesse interrupted, "I missed you so much. You started changing and you acted like you hated me and that you never had time for me. You showed me all these things, made me feel more alive, more loved than I ever did before and then you said you never wanted to see me again. And I get it now, that wasn't you, not really, but it still hurt. And even when I left before everything went to hell, I still wanted to run back to you and be in your arms. I wanted to beg you to take me back, that I could be smarter, better, faster, stronger, anything as long as you would take me back. Even when I found out about you joining Talon, there was a small part of me tha wanted to br yours again, even when I knew it was wrong."
Jesse could tell Gabe was fading fast. What little control Gabe had was being stripped from him as Reaper prepared to lock him back up again. Gabe cupped Jesse's hands in his and gave him a deep kiss. It felt like everything he'd ever been holding back flowed out of him at once. It felt like after a long time, he could finally breathe again. He took a step back and looked Gabe in his eyes. He was crying.
Gabe was too far gone for McCree to hear what he was saying, but he could understand what he meant. 'I love you, so please move on and be happy.' As the last of Gabriel disappeared, McCree took a deep breath and finally gave the signal for Angela to shut down the program. When he woke up in the med bay room, he quickly removed the helmet and turned over to see Hanzo was gone. In his place was a small note that read two words.
The tension in the land of Hyrule crept into every nook and cranny like a fog. There was no escape from it, save death. In the city surrounding the palace, sentry marched the homes around the clock. The tiny faces poking through the window were filled with fear and sadness; the soldiers' hearts drowned in sorrow and regret as they passed by to enforce a law they no longer believed in. Inside the palace, things were considerably worse.
Servants were on edge, afraid of being thrown in the dungeon. Guards stood on watch, tired from days of watch with no relief. The strategy room was chaos as it's once benevolent ruler stood amongst the conscription documents. Her blond hair was frayed from days of no sleep, dress worn and tattered, eyes red. A violent slap sent the papers flying.
"None of them?! We've scoured the lands to find him, and he's nowhere to be found!" Her gaze roamed the room, landing on her adviser. The frail man, startled from the outburst, ran a hand through his chestnut hair and took a calming breath.
"I-I am s-sure we can find him if w-we maybe tried to reconnect with the other nations and-"
"No!" The princess snapped, "They are very ones hiding Ganon from me. I will find them and stop this nightmare before it starts. This endless cycle must break, and it will end with us!"
"P-princess Zelda, it merely s-stands to reason that if the Hero isn't within our b-b-borders, he is elsewhere. But with the way we have isolated ourselves, w-we can't-"
"What's your name?" She interrupted.
The advisor hesitated, "I'm sorry?"
"I asked, what is your name," her voice was now calm as approached the man.
"Enrick, m-malady," he lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid hers.
"Dear Enrick, do you know what happened to the last man before you?"
He swallowed hard. He did know, more so than anyone else. His father had been the advisor for years, faithfully sending letters to his son, the only family left to him. When the letters stopped, he knew something was wrong. The rumors flew about what happened to those that displeased Princess Zelda. The dungeon was the most believable, and the most likely.
"It would not do you well to feel for the enemy. They are harboring our destruction, and I promise they care very little for you," She hissed, "Atlas!"
A hulking giant of a guard moved into view. He'd been so still before he had believed him to be a statue.
"Advisor Enrick, this is Atlas. He's fought on the frontlines in our war against the Gerudo. He is deft with a blade and his hands. He will be making sure that you are efficient at your duties, and that you stay the course without distractions."
Zelda turned and walked to the entrance. She halted at the doorway and looked back, "Find the Hero or I will find someone who can."
Enrick was left with the collosus in steel armor. Atlas moved to the door and stood in front of it, barring the entrance to the hall. Left with no other choice, Enrick studied the map again, trying to find some clue that might lead the their elusive "savior."
***
The winds sang a different tune in another land. Far from the dread of Hyrule Castle, two young men from different worlds were on a diligent and arduous task.
The forest was quiet aside from the rustle of the animals. The foxes crept around the ground to avoid their pursuers. They perked their ears and scoped the surroundings. When all seemed quiet, the first of the amber fur emerged from hiding. A second later, a swift arrow embedded into the tree beside the creature, and the entire skulk scattered.
"Goddess, we almost had it!" A wailing voice from the brush cried. A young man of tanned skin and blond hair huffed as he revealed himself. Not too far away, another taller one with desert-kissed complexion side-stepped the tree he was behind and leveled the blond one with a look.
"You should have waited until you could see it better. For all you knew, it could have been my hair you'd seen," He drawled.
"It was one time, Gan!" He yelled, "I said I was sorry already." The youth pouted.
Ganondorf smiled at his friend as he walked over and patted him on the head, "And I have forgiven you, Link. I just wouldn't like a repeat."
Link smirked as the clicked his bow into it's harness, "Well we've definitely scared them off now, should we head back home?"
"Yes, Twinrova will wonder what took us so long. She has far more faith in your skills than they warrant," Ganondorf chuckled. Link leered at him.
"Just cause you're better at magic and swords than me doesn't mean I'm terrible. I can notch an arrow in seconds, and I can build tons of stuff," Link bragged.
"Is that so?"
"Yep, plus I'm faster than you too!" Link chirped as he took off in a sprint. Sighing, Ganondorf followed after him. Link's smaller frame and agile footwork made him an excellent hunter, if he would only exercise patience. As it was, Ganondorf could only barely keep his friend in view. He was not made to be lithe and evasive, and his larger frame and flame colored hair didn't suit him for that kind of style anyways. He had other methods.
Channeling his mystic aura, Ganondorf released a surge of frost at the ground where Link was set to land. True to form, Link wasn't paying attention and slipped on the ice.
A minute later, Ganondorf caught up and was greeted by a vicious stare. To his credit, Gan didn't laugh and offered his hand. After a few sparce moments, Link accepted the help and was lifted onto Ganomdorf's back.
Link smiled. When they were much younger, Link's father would always carry him everywhere he went. As he aged, Ganondorf would tote him around everywhere. He would always claim it was because it helped him become stronger, but in truth he just hated being alone. But they had each other and for what it was worth, Ganondorf didn't so much mind having Link around. Sure he could be a bit rash, but he wasn't a bad guy. He was simply eager to learn and explore.
Ganondorf still remembered the first bomb Link made. He was 12 and just gotten his first batch of bomb seeds. He spent three straight days tinkering in his workshop until he came back out with a tiny metal mouse. He had looked up some old Goron schematics and dubbed it the "Bombchu". It took weeks before Twinrova or Galand would let Link use bomb seeds again after the field test.
Ganondorf made it to the clearing. Twinrova and Galand had wanted space to prepare Link's birthday supper. As he looked at the faces of both of them, however, he was concerned. They looked... guilty, as if they were ruffians caught by the guards. Link hopped down and gave both of them a questionable look with a raised brow. Link had a habit of only talking to Ganondorf and his father. Anyone else and it was immediate silence. None of them knew why, and he would always shut down when he asked.
Galand sighed, "Boys, we need to talk."
Link and Ganondorf shared a confused look and followed the sage and the blacksmith inside their humble home. There was a pit in their stomachs. Something was about to change. What, neither could say, but they weren't about to like it.
Sorry to anyone who was diligently waiting on my return, especially those waiting for me to start Cruel to be Kind. (I am renaming that.) But it's been hectic with working 40+ hours, doing course work (or not) and sleeping (or not). I promise that I will soon begin again in working towards making content for everyone to enjoy.
