Jul 9, 2024
as ran gets older, he starts favouring his gun over his baton. itās faster, easier, takes less effort. but gods help anyone who dares to utter your name. even the vaguest threat towards you makes his eyebrows raise, his grin widening as his hand reaches for his baton, the crack of it extending familiar and nostalgic. those who dare to threaten you donāt get faster, easier, less effort. those who threaten you get the kind of violence that brings him pleasure, the kind so deeply ingrained in his bones that it makes him wonder why he ever stopped using his baton in the first place.
