#like it’s not like he could’ve controlled it this has been a glitch for months | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moxfirefly · 3 years

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Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

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mandoinevarro · 4 years

Text

NO REFUNDS

Words: 5.1k :))

Rating: E, baby

Warnings: Smut (surprise surprise), bad words :0, masturbation, a biiiit of praise kink, face fucking, cumplay? let me know on the comments, etc. etc.

a/n: Happy Star Wars day!! The first few lines of this are an attempt at dumb comedy, but humor me a little and you’ll get a reward (smut) along the yellow-brick road

Finally, the lanky kid behind the counter stops air drumming with two chicken bones gnawed dry and trails his dopey eyes from the gloved fist on the table, up a bracer, and along a flexed arm, until they settle on the Mandalorian helmet staring him down and waiting for an answer. The employee removes the music bandeau from around his ears and settles it down, its noise so loud Mando can hear it from where it lays. The kid scratches the whiskers of facial hair growing patchy on his cheeks and thoughtfully nibbles on one of the bones, trying to figure out what one does when a client shows up.

“Uh, what?”

“I need to speak to the owner,” the Mandalorian repeats slowly.

“Oh, uh.” Mouth gaping like a fish too stupid to know it should fear hooks, the kid calmly turns his attention to the four walls of the hardware store, searching for guidance in the fluorescent signs hanging around the room and dictating the store’s rules like they’re ancient scriptures:

NO CHILDREN

WILL BUY STOLEN GOODS FOR LOWER PRICE

NO IMPS

NO REPUBLIC OFFICIALS

NO REFUNDS

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

“You, uh,” the kid continues, lingering on that last stanza and flicking open a dusty agenda that probably hasn’t been touched since the war ended, “you got an appointment, uh, sir?” He drags a greasy finger down the planner, squinting at nothing and pretending to read the page that Mando can clearly see is empty.

The bounty hunter sighs, holding on to the last reserves of patience that hang precariously on the cliff of his self-restraint, threatening to let go and leave him to his own anger. “No. But she’ll see me.” You better. You better fucking see him. “I was sold equipment here a few days ago, some of it faulty. I need to speak to her.”

The navigator. The fucking navigator. Of all the bunch of overpriced, black market scraps you’d somehow convinced the Mandalorian to buy from you last time, it just had to be the navigator. He still has his old blasters. Pumps are cheap. Even the deflector shields he could’ve done without for a couple of months. But the fucking navigator. The lack of droids on the Crest means that Mando relies solely on the navigator to set coordinates. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of a system, let alone make hyperjumps. Even worse, the model is so old, its glitching isn’t recognized by the control panel, so he had to hover around the atmosphere of this damned planet for three days before figuring out what it was, throwing off his schedule and losing track of two bounties in the process. All because you sold him a damaged version of the one part he can’t do without.

But your gaping-mouthed kid worker seems too unused to visitors to really care about Mando’s request, too entertained nibbling on a bare bone and eyeing the costumer in front of him as a knowing smirk cracks his lips and he says, “I dig it.”

“You…you ‘dig it’? I don’t…”

“The whole, y’know.” He draws circles in the air with the bone, signaling the beskar armor while he wipes the sauce around his mouth with a sleeve. “The, uh, Mondolarian vibe you’ve got going on. Very retro, dude. I dig it.”

Mondo…? Bewilderment overshadows irritation for a second, and Mando focuses all his energy into searching the kid’s vacant eyes for a sign of intelligent life. “I…I am a Mandalorian.”

Fucking stars above, it’s never easy with you. If not your endless teasing, it’s the exorbitant prices, your unwillingness to compromise, or your scurrying around so he’s forced to play cat and mouse with you. Your latest impossible challenge for him to tackle is, apparently, getting a straight answer from the obtuse employee you must have handpicked from a catalogue of idiots to torture Mando. Maker, he’s surprised your store hasn’t gone bankrupt yet. He can’t imagine anyone else in the galaxy putting up with your whims. And he only does it because…well, because…

After dedicating a couple of seconds to crafting the perfect response for what appears to be his very first client, the kid muses, “Well, shit, what do I know.” He flashes a toothy smile as he rereads the dogmas on the walls. “Says nothing about Mondolarians here, but, uh—”

“—Look,” Mando bargains with your gatekeeper, trying to level the exasperation escaping the vocoder, “I only have one faulty part. Let me talk to the owner, and—”

“—Shit. I bet it was the microvalves.” Your staff of one hangs his tuff of hair in shame, swaying it limply from side to side, before staring straight at the visor apologetically. “My bad, dude, I’ve been trying to get them right, but I always fuck them up. It’s hard, y’know? Red with red, white with white. Why not red with white? Or—”

“—No. What? No. Listen to me. You sold me a busted—”

“—I sold you?” the kid scoffs, his eyes suddenly snapping wide and offended, ignoring Mando’s clenching fists, which usually make normal people cower. “Excuse me, mister Mondolarian sir, but I don’t, uh, don’t recall selling you shit, in fact—”

“—Not—not you personally, the store, look, just—”

“—in fact, I’ve never even met a Mondolarian before and you’ve, uh, no right—no right— to judge my microvalves that I worked hard on—”

“Let him in.” Your voice carries its usual amusement as it cuts between the Mandalorian and the kid, breaking off the bickering from both ends and drawing their attention to the melody’s source. You lean on the doorframe leading to your workshop, holding a pair of pliers in one hand and a wrench in the other. Grease is smeared on your face, where teeth bite down on a playful smirk and the twinkle in your eyes speaks of terrible intentions—like always. You tilt your head back to the room behind you. “C’mon, Mando. Let my receptionist work.”

With a sigh, the hunter moves towards the separate room, not before glancing back at the receptionist, who throws him one last disapproving look and wraps the bandeau that never stopped blasting music around his ears.

“Why do you keep him here?” the Mandalorian grunts as you push yourself off the doorframe to move inside your studio.

You shrug. “It’s him or droids.”

Mando trails after you inside the cramped workshop, filled to the brim with piles and piles of sensors and motors and all the other scraps from dubious origins you collect, fix, and resell. He closes the door behind him and pushes a large tube hanging from the roof to the side to walk closer to you.

Facing him, you plummet on your wheeled chair with a sigh, your arms dangling off the armrests, still holding the wrench and the pliers, like you’re the monarch of your little kingdom of junk granting him an audience.

There, Mando finally gets a good look at you, and—much to his annoyance—you’re as lovely as always. Glistening and greasy, you’re still beautiful with oil stains on your skin and fat droplets of sweat trailing your temple. You beam at him from your squeaky throne with that faint grin that attracts nothing but trouble. Maker, no wonder you always manage to talk circles around him. But not this time. This time he won’t fall for your little games. He won’t, he won’t, he won’t. Tonight he’s walking out of here with all of his money, no matter how much you bat your pretty eyelashes at him.

The Mandalorian squares his stance and straightens his back in a futile attempt to intimidate you, strutting ahead firmly and pointing an accusing finger at your face.

“You sold me a—”

“—a busted navigator.” You roll your eyes and push yourself to your legs abruptly before the hunter can get any closer. He stops dead on his tracks. You wave the wrench and the pliers in the air like the conductor of an orchestra. “I sold you a busted navigator.” The vowels are dragged out with an exaggerated tune to make fun of him. “Yeah, I heard you the first four thousand times, Mando.”

Without looking, you drop the pliers to the side. They land dead center on an open storage box. Perfectly. Almost rehearsed. Something clicks. The Mandalorian suddenly finds the missing piece of a puzzle he didn’t know needed solving, and he feels his shoulders deflate and release some of the anger that drove him to your store in the first place.

You peacock closer to him, one foot in front of the other and swaying your hips as you look down to the wrench in your hand. “But, you should know by now,” you murmur once you find yourself only inches away from the beskar, your voice morphing its earlier mock exasperation into the tone you only use whenever you two aren’t talking business. You look up at him, failing miserably at masking the mischief in your eyes. “I don’t do refunds.” You lift the wrench and grin as it taps the beskar breastplate lightly with a tink.

And before you can blink, Mando’s hand flies to your wrist to clutch it roughly, squeezing without hurting you, but with enough strength to force your fist open. Just like he knows you like it. The wrench falls to the floor with a bang that makes you jump. It’s Mando’s turn to smile when he pulls you by the wrist to press you closer against him. The cocky glint in your eyes dulls into confusion.

“I never said it was the navigator,” he informs you lowly.

You tense under his grasp and shift your jaw. “You knew I’d come back,” he continues, encouraged by your grimace. Staring at your feet, you half-heartedly try to wriggle away from his grasp, but he grabs your other wrist instead and holds you flush against the cold beskar. “Okay. I’m back. Now give me my money.”

But his satisfaction is short-lived, because if there’s anyone in the universe who knows no shame, that’s you. So you simply bite your lower lip and move your head from side to side to shake hair and embarrassment off your face. When you look up at the visor again it’s with that brazen insolence that secretly gets the Mandalorian going like nothing else in the galaxy.

“A girl gets lonely in here,” you purr. Your wrists relax, and make no attempt to pull away. “Can you blame me for wanting you back a little earlier?” Your plush lips curl into the perverse smile of someone who’s holding all the cards, making heat rush involuntarily to his crotch. And it drives him fucking insane. He could have you tied, shackled, or bent over, and you would still sneer at him like you had him wrapped around your finger.

At his silence, you wedge a leg tightly between his thighs and massage it against the bulge between. Your gasp in fake surprise when his length hardens at the first hint of a brush, too unused to any sort of physical contact to remain neutral to your bold caresses. He bites down hard on his lip to suppress a moan. He won’t give you the satisfaction.

Mando’s learnt, though, that his restraint only feeds your audacity. Only makes you taunt him more. His lack of response spurs you on, and you crane your neck forward to lick a slow line along the beskar of the chest. You blink at him playfully as you go, stuffing your tongue back into your mouth once you reach the top edge of the breastplate.

You must find it funny. How his ribs expand and contract in anticipation. How he tends to roll and unroll his fists in an attempt to suppress the instinct to throw you on top of the table so crowded by clutter that he can barely see the surface beneath and fuck the smirks off your face. How he always gives in. How he stiffens both scandalized and impossibly aroused every time you introduce him to some newer, filthier act. You must think it’s so fucking funny.

And as much as the bounty hunter wants to shove you back against your crumbling wheeled chair, he knows you’ll only enjoy it more. So he simply lets go of your wrists and steps back.

“I’m only here for my money,” he lies.

The vicious grin grows wider. “Oh, so you’re making me work for it tonight.” You step back and lean against a table with your arms crossed over your chest, purposefully pushing your tits against the cleavage. Mando shifts in his place. Licking your lips until they glisten, you give him a once-over. You study him inch by inch, and an uncomfortable rope knots in his stomach when he realizes that this is how his bounties must feel when he watches them wordlessly.

Your eyes settle on his visor, and a decision seems to cross them as you walk over to sit on your creaking chair. “Or maybe you just want to hear me beg.” You part your legs wide and clutch the armrest with one hand while the other disappears under the waist of your pants. The contour of your hand shifts up and down slowly inside the crotch of your trousers, and your lips crook into a full O as they release a deep, foul moan. “Is that it?” Your eyes are glossy and malignant, trained on his visor. “You want me to beg for your cock?”

His leather gloves ball into fists, trying to coax blood into his head and away from his…well, his other head.

Yet you hold him in place with that sinful stare and the lewd whimpers that you know get him off, and yes, fuck yes, he wants to hear you beg and sob for him all night as much as he wants to clog your throat with his shaft and make you swallow your teasing.

But he can’t let you win. You can’t scam five thousand credits out of him and expect him to throw himself into your arms no questions asked. He wants to put an end to your little tyrannical rule on his cock. And he wants his fucking money back.

So the powerful Mandalorian watches helplessly as your hand quickens under your clothing and you throw your head back in ecstasy. That fucking smirk doesn’t leave you, though. Even less so when your palm picks up some speed and you hear his breath hitch involuntarily at the visual, loud enough to override the vocoder.

“C-come on, Mando, don’t—” Your hand sinks deeper into your pants and you hum at the adjustment. “Don’t you wanna teach me what—what proper cos-costumer service looks like? Huh?”

His cock jumps in his pants when you say his name in a wanton gasp, and Mando can see you’re sweating and moving your hips faster against your palm. He’s so hard it hurts.

Your smile falters and you frown impatiently as the pent-up tension threatens to snap in your body.

“Don’t cum,” Mando blurts before he can stop himself.

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t give you what you want.”

Your movements halt on command, and the hunter almost envies the control you have over your own body to be able to backtrack on the very edge of your release. You hold your hands up in triumphant surrender as you watch the Mandalorian approach and stop just a breath away from your body. He stands tall before you, crowding you with his size and turning down the volume on the nagging voice that reminds him that he’s letting you win.

Eyes on the prize ahead of you, you lick your lips and snake a hand beneath your sit. You pull a lever and the chair plummets a few inches until your mouth is directly in front of the rigid tent growing in his pants. Expert fingers undo his belt and lower his fly, but, stars, nothing is fast enough when Mando already feels the veins of his cock growing thicker and thicker. Skipping all formalities, your hand sneaks inside, cups his balls, and pulls all of him outside. He groans when you grab his shaft and squeeze hard from base to tip, your bare palm catching awkwardly on his equally dry skin. Mando melts into the sensation all the same, but you seem displeased with your palm’s lack of fluidity.

“Fuck. Hold on.” A pair of fingers disappear into your mouth and down your throat as far as they’ll go. You choke on them dramatically and your eyes water slightly, but they shine when the two small intruders drag outside your mouth, pulling a thick string of elastic spit with them and dropping it on his shaft, pulsing with anticipation. You lean forward and look up through your lashes as you unroll your tongue slowly and more gooey saliva dangles from it. It’s too dense to spill onto its target, so you pluck the heavy ropes from your mouth and smear it manually on his cock, while a thread of it hangs on your chin.

“Fuck.” Your tiny clenched fist wakes up every nerve in his body as it drags up and down his shaft, obscene and perfectly lubricated. Mando’s hips buck into its grasp involuntarily, so suddenly that you flinch at the unexpected jolt. It’s a small comfort for him, to see that he can also surprise you. But then you’re giggling again, locking him in place by grabbing the buck of his belt with your free hand.

“Eager,” you remark. You lean forward and place a chaste kiss on the tip that digs into his spine. Maker, it was barely anything, but he’s so hard and your mouth is so close. “Aren’t Mandalorians,” you tease, “supposed to have self-restraint?”

Mando’s only answer is a low groan and a gloved hand that tangles on your hair and pushes you forward. You resist, though, instead wrapping a fist around his base and dragging your hot tongue up his underside, stopping just before the tip. A tortured whimper echoes around the helmet, and the Mandalorian is not sure if you could hear it because his muscles pull tighter, drawing his attention to his cock and your mouth and the fact that the latter is not wrapped around him for some reason. As if you could read his mind, you suddenly engulf him whole. Spit gathers on the edge of your lips as you suck on his length, swallowing around the tip and swirling your tongue around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re so—so fucking g-good at this.” You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft that make his knees buckle. He always forgets how good it feels with you. He forgets that you take him perfectly like all your holes were made for him to fuck. That you make his blood run hot with every swing of your tongue and every spasm of your cunt and every insolent remark that escapes your lovely mouth, now busy pleasuring him.

You settle on his head and suck on the bulb, hollowing your cheeks to let him feel the delicious inside of your mouth. Mando grabs handfuls of your hair with both hands, still trying to extinguish little whimpers before they leave his throat. And you can tell. He knows you can tell because determination clouds your eyes as you yank him closer by the belt. You drag your tongue in a circle around the ridge of the head, before dipping into the slit on the tip and finally earning a punched out groan and some beads of precum as a reward. Somehow, you moan and chuckle at the same time, opening your mouth as strings of spit fall to the floor.

“You’re hard, Mando,” you coo, pumping his length while you rub it on the side of your face, “throbbing and so, so hard. You should’ve come to me sooner, baby. You’re desperate.” You suck on the head again, and the Mandalorian’s grip on your hair turns to steel, pulling you into him and no longer asking. Moaning, you let him, taking him as far as you can and wrapping a fist where you can’t reach. Your other hand releases his belt and snakes down to your lap, fumbling with the waistband of your pants.

Somewhere in the swamp of sensations drowning his thoughts, an idea flashes in Mando’s head, and he holds on to it before you can suck it out of his tip. One glove lets go of your hair and quickly grans the hand lowering into your heat to resume touching yourself. His cock still in your mouth, you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a silent question.

“You can’t c-cum,” he explains, forcing words out of a throat that right now only wants to moan, “un-until you give me my—my refund.”

You groan and roll your eyes, taking your mouth off him with a pop. “Fuck no,” you breathe as you pump him faster and harder, almost making Mando lose his resolve. Almost. His hold on your wrist tightens. “It’s store policy.”

“Y-yeah?” You continue sliding your fist along his shaft, as you lean forward and lower your face to start lightly licking his balls. The room spins around Mando, and his grip on your hair pushes you into him until you suck on one ball gently. “Is—is it store p-policy to—ngh—to f-fuck your clients?”

You chuckle against his taint. Your head straightens to set your attention back on his tip, where he’s leaking an almost embarrassing amount of precum. A thumb brushes over his slit, gathering the pearls and bringing them into your mouth to taste him. The way you rub your core slightly against the chair is sneaky enough, but the Mandalorian catches the movements and tugs your hand and hair tighter as a warning. Your shoulders slump. “I’ll give you half,” you offer.

Mando guides your hand lower and curls it around his swollen cock, silently begging for your attention. His hand wraps over yours as he squeezes your fist and drags it along his shaft at a pace of his liking that sets his insides ablaze. “Eighty.” The helmet falls back as he revels in the wet sounds of your hand sliding back and forth his cock and giving him a nice enough memory for when he inevitably goes back to the Crest and is forced to take care of his needs himself.

You let him guide you, cupping his balls with your other hand and swirling your tongue around his darkening tip. Mando’s chest trembles with a long moan at the toe-curling feeling of your warm spit and your clenched fist working so hard for him, until you drop him from your mouth and answer, “Seventy.”

“N-no, I—”

“—Seventy,” you repeat and twist your hand away from his grasp, leaving his seeping cock throbbing and abandoned, “or you don’t cum.”

Fuck, he was close. He was so fucking close, before you turned the tables. Like fucking always. A part of him cradles his already bruised pride, shaming him for—yet again—not being able to hold it together around you. But his cock tugs harder. More insistently. It pulls every fiber in his body and screams at him to give you whatever the fuck you want.

“Fine.” He nods his head once, before his better sense can convince him otherwise. “Seventy.”

A full, beautiful smile that almost makes Mando forget he’s getting scammed graces your plump lips. You waste no time shoving your hand inside your underwear again and moving your arm frantically as you give him a couple of throaty whines. You open your mouth as wide as it’ll go and blink up at him, inviting him to take you however he so pleases. He tangles his fingers on your hair and shoves you against him as you wrap your lips around his cock and muffle your mewls on it.

The Mandalorian starts fucking your face, getting his money’s worth as he moves you back and forth. Your eyes water and you gag with every shove, but you work earnestly for him, hollowing your cheeks and moving your tongue and pulling just about every trick on your toolbox to make Mando’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

And stars, even through your pants and his helmet, he can still smell your arousal. He hears the wet squelching of your fingers working your pussy fast and if he could only get a look. One look is all he needs to cum, he’s sure, one fucking look at your clenching cunt and he’s done.

“F-fuck, l-let me see,” he pants, “let—let me s-see you—see your p-pussy cum, just—fuck—just a mo-moment, please, j-just…”

Tears from all the gagging fall out of your pretty eyes as you open your mouth and stand up, taking your trembling hand outside to fumble with your trousers. Your thumbs are hooked under their waistband and push down slightly before you suddenly stop and stare at the Mandalorian gulping all the oxygen he can get and waiting for you. “Sixty,” you say carefully.

Too intoxicated with you and too focused on the blood beating hard on his cock, Mando couldn’t care less. He doesn’t give a shit about percentages or money or parts or whatever half-forgotten excuse he had to come here tonight. All that matters and all that’s real is whatever he needs to climax, and if it means letting you win, so be it. “S-sixty. Yes. Whatever. Just—just take your fucking pants off.”

One swift movement and your pants and underwear pool around your ankles. Yanking hard on the hem, you manage to pull the right leg off your boot. You don’t bother with the other one, letting it hang on your left leg as you climb back on the chair, spreading your legs and hooking one thigh over the armrest to offer him the best view possible.

Mando’s cock threatens to spill at the sight. You’re fucking soaked. Your folds are blushed and slick and swollen with all the blood accumulated on your cunt. Three fingers rub your aching clit and everything around it with messy strokes, as you stare at the bounty hunter with raw lust and moan for him loud and clear, and this. This is worth the fucking navigator.

As soon as his shaft ghost over your face you lean into it and reach for him with your mouth. Mando takes your head between his hands and resumes his previous brutal pace, his eyesight now directed at the way your cunt spasms and seeps more juices with every circle you press against your lips. And, fuck, you’re taking him like you’re hungry for his cock. Pushing harder and further and faster despite the gagging, you’re making Mando see blotches cloud his vision and feel how his muscles turn into hot, thick magma. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can’t hold it in anymore. His balls start pulling up as a warning and you’re sucking harder and mewling around him.

“I—I…I’m gonna—I—”

Mando can’t find enough words to put together for the life of him, but you nod and manage a chocked “Mhmm” and bob your head to the pace of your quickening fingers and stars oh fuck—

The wave of his climax hits him hard on his back and makes him curl around you. He braces himself against the top of your chair and the change in position makes his cock slip outside of your mouth, but his vision goes completely black and all he can feel is the rush of pleasure crushing his bones into dust. Maybe your name is falling from his lips, but he can’t be sure. The never-ending spurts of cum falling somewhere hoard most of his attention, and he focuses on that thick and heavy release, so rare for him that he puts his mind into savoring every second.

It’s not until the echoes around his ears dissipate that the Mandalorian hears you’re still whimpering. Hunched over you, he opens his eyes just in time to see you gather some of the seed that he spilled on your neck and bring it down to smear it over your bundle of nerves, rubbing it one, two, three, four times, before you’re sobbing long and loud. Your hole tightens around nothing, your forehead resting on his cuisse, and Mando thinks he could get hard again just from the image.

You both stay like that for a while, curled into each other and panting in turns, until Mando gathers all the energy left in his system to pull himself upright and shove his softening shaft back into his pants. It’s only then that he sees just how much of a mess he made: Cum landed everywhere. It hangs thick all over your face, on your neck, on your hair, on your clothes. He blushes darkly and he’s about to open his mouth to apologize, but you sense it. Somehow. You wink and brush off his shame with a smile and a wave of your hand, standing up to get dressed. But Mando’s quicker. He kneels in front of you and gently raises your underwear until it hugs your hips, wishing for a fleeting second he could press a kiss on the supple flesh there. You grab his pauldron for balance to sneak your foot into the pantleg that Mando holds open for you.

For once, it’s he who breaks the silence. “I…I do want my sixty percent, you know.”

“Of course.” You smile sweetly at him, reaching back to your work table to grab a clean rag, rubbing it against your face and neck. “I’ll even throw in some free microvalves for good measure.”

—

Taglist of two so you can keep each other company :) : @rosetophighlander @hellomothermoon

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian x you #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mando smut #star wars smut #star wars day #his fucking microvalves that he worked hard on

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angeloncewas · 3 years

Note

im pretty sure scott more or less implied h was taking a break bc negativity (he said something about the event making him anxious since what happened with twt basically harassing him over glitches he couldnt control bc why wouldn't they!! /s)

—🦷

That's so genuinely disappointing :( H has talked about MCCs being his favorite time of the month and in the iteration where he was a guest on the admin stream you can just tell how much he cares about it. He literally does the VOD review and will open mc to check if stuff is possible/what could've been done... I'm upset babdjd. I really hope he stops getting that kind of shit and can come back. I feel like we've ruined something for him and that's just awful

#angel answers #🦷 anon #negative

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

Undercover - Chapter 24

Chapter Selection

"What do we have so far?", Aaron asked the team when we gathered together.

"Right now we know that he wants to get back at me for getting rid of his kid, he doesn't like Aaron for being with me. Mark's the both of us. I also don't think that he's going to kill Jack, he wants something that reminds him of me and Jack is the closest thing.

I think he's going to try and raise him as his own. He's young enough that he'd forget who we are." I motion between Aaron and I.

"Where would he take Jack", we all looked back at each other. "Mark's obsessed so he'd wanna take him somewhere with significance, so where would that be?"

"Our house? It's where I left him, he abused me... cut me. But last I checked there were people living there, he wouldn't have access." Garcia dipped her head to face her computer and began typing.

"The address?" Garcia asked me. "46 winter avenue."

"That address was occupied but two months ago the people that bought it vacated the property and never came back."

"Mark could've taken him there." Morgan stated and everyone was waiting for Hotch's okay to go to the address. He nodded off; Morgan and Emily left to scope it out.

"Garcia I know you've already checked but go over the feed again to see if you missed anything", Reid told Garcia.

When they left the rest of us stayed and went over any other information, Aaron was sitting with his head in his hands; he got a call. "Hello?", once I heard the voice on the other side I knew who it was. "Aaron do you have anything on our son?"

He let out a deep sigh, "Nothing yet but we're still working, we'll get him back", I heard her voice break and scoff. "You better hope, and you better be doing everything you can or I swear."

I get that Hayley's his mom but she seems a little distant. Jack has been gone for a few days now and she has only come in to check on the progress once since then. Usually parents try to stay as close as they can to the investigation and for the most part never leave the station.

Instead Hayley's calling; every time she does her behavior doesn't sound genuine.

Now that could be because I can't actually profile as she's over the phone but still. I can't shake the feeling that she knows more than she's letting on.

"I know it doesn't make sense but bare with me, I think Hayley's in on it. It was something about her voice when she was talking with Hotch, she didn't sound genuine." Rossi spoke up, "When she found out about Jack's disappearance that reaction was genuine from what I could tell."

"Maybe but when she stood up she said something that make me suspect her, 'This is your fault, you and your fucking ex husband.' I've never told her about him... ever."

"I don't know about that y/n", Aaron said to me. Reid stood up and was walking around the room trying to think, "Actually y/n has a point, think about it Hayley loves Jack and she'd try and do anything to keep him safe. If Hayley thinks y/n is a threat to Jack then it makes sense."

"Add that with me taking over the mother role in his life come on Aaron."

"Ok but before we do anything I wanna be sure, Rossi and Reid follow her and if she goes anywhere near that house- take her in." They walk out the room after getting Hayley's location from Garcia.

"Sir- the videos on a loop", Aarons eyes shot up at hers. "What do you mean?", Pan turned the computer towards us and showed us.

"It's a loop for a few hours, he's doing the same thing everyday. You see that glitch right... there." We both nodded. "That's the end of the loop and it restarted, I don't know how I didn't see it before."

I was lost in my mind, the video was a loop, it was a way of distracting us. We thought he was safe, that we had time to save him. He could be dead; we didn't know where he really was. But then again Mark wouldn't do that to a child, maybe the video loop was a way to fuck with us... I don't know.

"Come on", Aaron tugged on my arm and I followed him. "What is it?" we walked into the elevator going to the bottom floor. "I just wanna get away from that, they're doing everything they can, we were just sitting there."

We went outside, it was a little chilly. Aaron wrapped his arm with mine keeping me close to him. Going down the sidewalk; further and further away from the office. We ended up in a more secluded area.

"I wanted to wait to do this honestly, but seeing as somehow our lives are just falling apart around us things just keep going wrong... I- want to have a grip on something in my life. Something that I can control and nothing can touch." He stopped walking and I turned around to face him.

"I had a whole plan, a surprise one that I know you would've loved but- I needed Jack for that." He dropped his head and steadied himself and gazed back at me. "I love you and that's why I want to take the opportunity now... while I still have you."

Aaron reached out and held my hips bringing me closer to him. I cupped his cheek and kissed him deeply. My hand in his hair, pulling him closer. He pressed his forehead to mine and exhaled.

I looked at him in his eyes as he stared at me, "Will you marry me." I was taken back but internally I was ecstatic. No words were needed as I jumped into his arms, the first time either of us were happy since Jack was taken.

He held me up gripping my thighs, my arms went around his neck. I kissed his passionately and lovingly. He raised his eyebrows as if he was asking 'is that a yes?' I nodded and he pulled me into another kiss. We stayed there for a few minutes enjoying the moment till reality set in.

He put me down and we were holding hands, smiling the whole way back. We were gone for an hour never answering our phones.

We got back to the office walking through the bullpen to find Garcia pacing the round table room. Before we walked in she could be head throughout the bullpen, "Where the hell aren't they answ- guys get in here." Pen saw us through the window.

Aaron and I walked into the room, "Hayley's there."

"Like, there? At the address?" Garcia nodded and Aaron and I sprinted towards the elevator going straight for the parking lot.

The drive took forever even though it seemed that Aaron was speeding through the streets. We parked a few blocks away, I called Morgan and Emily. They were in front of the building they moved after Hayley went inside.

We approached them, "All of them are in there." I called back up and the cops surrounded the building and covered the rooftop with some snipers. Rossi and Reid moved to the back entrance with some of the officers covering behind them.

"We have eyes", one of the snipers said through the mic. they had eyes all of them further confirming they were inside.

Aaron stepped inside first, me behind him with Morgan and Emily trailing behind. I went ahead because Mark needed to see me first, I didn't want him to feel intimidated. I approached the door when everyone was ready.

I saw Mark at the table with Jack across from him; Hayley was in the kitchen. When Mark saw me, the vest, and the gun he moved with speed and grabbed Jack. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at his chest; while my sights were trained on Mark.

Hayley reacted just as fast seeing him with a gun at Jack she aimed at Mark. Aaron came in behind me and aimed at Hayley. Rossi, Reid, Morgan, and Emily all were split between the two. All Aaron could think about was why Hayley helped, though we knew why; he wanted to hear the words come from her.

"Why?" Aaron was talking directly to Hayley. She napped he head to the side looking at him then quickly back at Mark, "Because he had our son, y/n wanted to take him from me and this was my way of being close to him... he's all I've got left." A tear fell from Hayley's eyes dripping onto the floor.

"Mark you don't wanna do this." He glanced at me but kept looking around at the people around him. "I have too, you left me okay. I fucked up, I know that."

"But why take his son?" He answered back quickly. "Because you took mine from me, our child."

"I don't even know if it was yours." He looked right at me and his eyes were brimming, "Are you telling you don't remember... after all the pain you caused. Do you not think about it? I sure as hell do; they way you took him."

I knew what he was talking about, I had forgotten about it... one of my most painful memories. It used to haunt me even though it wasn't my fault. Something that sadly naturally happens. Is this why he started changing? All the abuse- Mark blamed me for it.

"It's been a while." Mark took notice of the change in behavior towards Aaron and he cocked his head to the side, "You haven't told him have you?" I shook my head.

"Tell him", Aaron glanced at me but never tearing his focus from Hayley. I really didn't want to but he had a gun to Jack. Everyone around me, the officers and the team all witnessing what's unfolding before them.

"I was- uh pregnant before... with him. I had a miscarriage within the weeks of finding out we were having a child. Do you blame me?" This time I was talking to Mark staring him down.

"How can I not, what's that now... two children you've taken. I’m about to take one from you."

Everything felt like it was in slow motion as Mark raised the gun to Jack's head. Hayley shot Mark in the abdomen while Aaron shot Hayley in the head; she collapsed to the floor.

Mark's gun went off hitting the floor almost hitting Jack.

When his body hit the floor I holstered my gun and ran over to Jack, picking him up in my arms. I watched the life drain from Mark's eyes; the paramedics not getting there in time. As for Hayley she was dead before she hit the floor, the blood running from the hole in her head pooling around her.

I covered Jacks eyes and walked out of the room. Taking him outside to the ambulance that just arrived. I sat with him as they made sure he was ok. I was in shock; blanking from what just occurred. Mark was dead... Hayley was dead.

The paramedic was done with Jack and he had crawled onto my lap, clinging onto me. I held him close not wanting to let me go. I thought if I did I'd lose him again. I watched Aaron walk outside and lean against the building, he was shedding tears for his son's mom.

I stood up with Jack and made my way over, when he saw me coming closer he was quick to dry up his face. Jack pulled his head from off my shoulder and he leaped into his dad's arms. Aaron relaxed as soon as he was holding him.

I visibly saw the weight being lifted off his shoulders. "You want to go home?", Jack nodded excitedly ready to sleep in his own bed. We finished at the scene and headed home, I put the key in the lock of the front door and Jack ran to his room. I called out, "Jack you're going to need a shower."

I heard a faint okay and he shuffled into the bathroom. I went into the bedroom going into the closet. I pulled Aarons shirt over me and I felt arms wrap around me. I put my hand on one of his and leaned my head back, "You okay?"

I felt him nod. I knew he wasn't; he just killed his ex wife, Jack's mom is dead. I don't even know if Jack can comprehend what happened earlier, he's only 5.

Holding onto his hand I brought him into the kitchen, "Cooking always makes you batter." He shrugged and shook his head. "Come on, I'll help. What do you want to make?", he never answered just pulling out ingredients; I figured it out quickly.

I tried to lighten the mood, so I turned on some music. We were waiting for the food the cook and I grabbed his hand and turned him to face me. His hand automatically met my waist knowing what to do.

I tried my best to reach over his head and twirled him which just resulted in him teasing me.

"Here I'll make it easier for you", he said while giggling and crouching down to my height. I wasn't short but he was so goddamn tall. "Heyy", I playfully hit his arm. Jack ran into the kitchen and saw us dancing.

I broke away from Aaron and held my hand out for Jack. He took it and we were dancing to the music blasting in the living room. I picked him up by his arms and twirled in a circle. The smile on his face brought me so much happiness. I thought that earlier we could've lost him.

While Aaron finished the dinner he glanced at us, he was still upset but seeing that it didn't seem to affect Jack made it easier. He set up the table; Jack and I rushed to the table, slightly out of breath. "When do I get to see mommy?", that's what both of us were afraid of. We were thankful he didn't comprehend what occurred but also now we have to explain to him that his mom is gone.

Eventually we'd have to tell him what actually happened; he should know and that's definitely not going to be a fun conversation. I turned to face him, "Buddy your mom is going to be gone for a while okay." He looked at Aaron with confusion written on his face.

"So when is she coming back?", Aaron visibly tensed.

"She's not going to, your mom wants to but she can't." He let out a quiet ok and started to eat. I looked back at Aaron and the room filled with silence. The only thing said during dinner was Jack asking when he can go back to school and see his friends.

We finished eating and I was cleaning the table while Aaron put Jack to bed. Instead of just cleaning the table I ended up washing the dishes, counter, and sweeping. I cleaned when I'm anxious which wasn't so bad because who wouldn't want to have a clean house.

I'd finish tomorrow, it was too late to actually get everything I wanted down. But it was a decent surprise for Aaron after he put Jack down. "Did you clean?", I looked up from dusting the shelves.

"Maybe...", He smirked and walked over to me wrapping his arms around me. He pressed a gentle kiss to my temple, "Thank you... not just for this." He gestured to the house and he continued, "But also telling Jack about Hayley; I couldn't bring myself to do it."

I placed my hands on his, "You're welcome." He took my hand in his, turned off all the lights, and we headed towards the bedroom. Aaron pulled his shirt over his head exposing his toned body. I caught myself staring and I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

When I walked back into the room Aaron had thrown off his pants and was under the covers. I crawled into bed and Aaron pulled me to him. His chest pressing against my back. His head resting just behind mine; I could feel his breath on my neck.

It sent chills down my spine. He mumbled a goodnight, I hummed in response.

__________________

@marie1115 @appleblossoms-posts @wanniiieeee @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @mac99martin @oreogutz @errorcosplay67 @aberrant-annie

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron #ssa hotchner #fanfic #aaron hotch fanfiction #fanfiction #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic

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secret-time-is-here · 2 years

Text

An Error's Journey

Chapter 66

Previous - First - Next

TW: Implied Dreammare

Those words haunted him for years. Ages spent hauled away in Ink’s realm, worrying over everything. He couldn’t bring himself to even step foot in Dreamtale again. Ink for a while joined in with his grief. They could’ve spent months just curled up together, silent, the small thudding of his soul the only sound. Neither were good at keeping track of time so they could have.

Eventually, it seemed Ink moved through most of their mourning and attempted at the normal day to day again. Leaving to check up on the AUs and meander around the new ones. Probably paying XTale and that Gaster a visit too.

His thoughts continued to consume him, while Ink moved on, he was still stuck. He should’ve spent more time with Nim, told them how much he cared. Instead he was stubborn and couldn’t so much as say he appreciated all they had done for him. Ink had done their best to try and cheer him up, but nothing really helped.

Lately, Ink had began to tell him where to find them if Error wanted to get out for a bit. Today, Ink was going to Dreamtale.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… I need to see if the new guardians have shown up yet. And with them… gone… There's no doubt in my mind humans will make attempts to take over the area. I’m not letting some mortals kill what’s left of Nim.” And after it was clear Error had nothing more to say, Ink walked back over, stealing a quick strong hug before leaving.

Mortals. How they ruined everything. Especially humans. He never did like them. From the murdering children in the timelines to the adults that ruined the worlds he used to destroy–honestly some of those worlds he was doing them a favor to kill all of them, to that fucking cocky asshole that dared to kill Nim. If any mortals were there, he would happily kill any that dared to even come close to hurting the tree or the new guardians.

Mind made up, he let his magic spark for the first time in ages, a glitching portal opening before him.

He walked out into the bright world of Dreamtale, landing on the same hill that he had last time he had been there. Time had claimed the land and around him the forest had spread far and wide, the grass still tall and the mountains and rivers even bigger than before. Through the thicket, he could see across the valley, not a building in sight, his old home aside.

He brushed aside leaves, ducking under the branches and over stumps, making his way to the forest until he was nearly all the way through, the tree just in sight–the apples still glowing bright. Just as it came into view, he was pulled away, dragged up into the canopy above and deposited into a nest of thick branches, his spine crying and tailbone stinging as he landed odd.

“The new guardians are here.” Ink spoke, voice somewhat monotone, traces of happiness and sadness still in their words.

“Already?”

“Well, from what I can tell–and what Gaster has told me–it’s been a while since Nim’s death, decades even. I think the guardians haven’t been here long though… they seem to mostly live off the land. That, and the hut I made for you.”

At least it was getting some use. Ink’s voice dropped to a whisper, peaking through the leaves, “There they are, purple at least. Yellow still might be inside.”

“Purple and Yellow?”

“Well, we’re not supposed to interact with them, and they both wear the colors of the apples–I think they each control one side, so I’ve just been calling them the colors.”

“At all?” Ink looked over, confused, “Interact with them? We can’t teach them–let them know of the Deity before them, the Gods around to help them?”

“Well… they aren’t Gods, they’re only guardians… they should be fine on their own.”

“Alright…” he shrugged, still unsure.

He wanted to follow Nim’s wishes, but it just felt wrong to leave them alone. Not teach them. Not reach out to them. Be left alone like he was. They had each other, sure. But they had no way to learn about Nim. Learn about the Gods that they’re connected to, the people around them that can help them. Yet, he trusted what Nim wanted. He trusts that Nim would know what they needed.

Leaning up and peaking out of the leaves for himself, he saw the two for himself. Purple relaxing next to the tree, weaving grass together, baskets around them. Yellow was some distance away, picking at strong strands and bringing them back for Purple to weave. It was wholesome. Cute even.

His thoughts stalled when he noticed that they weren’t that far away, the fuzzy images of them not that distorted. Were they really that young? How old were they? All alone by themselves? All of it hurt his skull and soul to think about, being here made him want to step in so badly, but he couldn’t. When his false stomach wanted to roll and join the confusion, he turned his back, the quiet blip of a portal and he was gone, back to Ink’s realm and back to his blanket cave on the couch. Ink wasn’t long to follow.

No words were exchanged, Ink only sat close until Error allowed them to crawl up into his lap. The silence stretched on for a while, no sounds. No words. Not even a shuffle of the blankets surrounding them. Despite Ink’s soulless state, the other had a lot of tells. Their silence was one of them.

With a sigh, Error opened up a few windows, stealing some hot chocolate from an underfell sans, since when had he hated them? Not the point right now. Then he pulled up Undernovela, an equal sized window right next to it, watching over the tree and Yellow still running around. Purple laughing as Yellow skipped around. Ink relaxed against him.

“Thanks, kitten.”

“Anytime, shorty.”

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 66 #chapter 66 #error sans #ink sans

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fanfalc-616 · 3 years

Text

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Ten

(Prevoius chapter found here)

(:<

Zane winces. It was only a few days after they removed Cryptor’s face plate that they did the same to him, and it is a very uncomfortable feeling.

As he’s being dragged off to the training room again, he stays quiet, as the guards are having a conversation that may provide valuable intel.

“I know a lot of the guys here hate General and Original, but I can’t really figure out why.” One of them muses.

The other one shakes his head. “Do you remember the Golden Master thing a few years back? General caused a lot of the damage and it almost killed her family.”

Zane frowns- or he would’ve, if he still had a face plate. He remembers that event, but given that Cryptor had been under the Overlord’s control, it seems illogical to blame him for it.

“That’s fair.” The first one agrees. “But didn’t Original help stop it? Why would she hate it?”

“When it exploded, the ice caused a lot of damage. I said her family almost died, right? It was because of the ice that they didn’t get to the hospital in time.”

Zane feels himself tense up at the words. The ice of the explosion… he hadn’t imagined that it could’ve hurt anyone, but looking back it seems quite obvious.

“Hey, keep moving!” One of the guards snaps at him.

He’s quick to comply, but his mind is still racing. It’s no wonder she has no qualms about harming him- she blames him for their deaths.

And after a few moments of thought, Zane realizes that the blame is well placed. It was his fault. The ice… he hadn’t realized that it caused harm.

Even though he resists being chained down, he ends up stuck on the floor anyway.

But the guards leave, and a few moments later, he discovers that the chains weren’t all the way locked- there turns out to be just enough leeway for him to wrench his way free.

A spark of hope lights inside of him, and Zane knows that he would be smiling if his facial plate was still attached.

This could be the way he frees himself!

Creeping down the corridors, Zane makes sure that every step is made with as much caution as he has. He cannot risk being captured again!

He winces as he passes the lockers, giving Cryptor a silent apology- he can’t allow the other to give him away.

Keeping his breathing as quiet as possible, he manages to sneak by several groups of guards on his way to the exit.

Every moment is filled with tension, and it seems to take an eternity before he reaches the door. And even then, he’s not quite out of the woods yet.

Shaking from excitement, he tried to find a way to unlock the door. After a moment of consideration, he scans it.

Judging by the pattern of heat signatures, he can see the most recent code that was typed.

He cautiously types it in, hoping for the best and fearing the worst.

His eyes widen as the door clicks and a small light shines green.

As soon as he’s outside, he’ll be in the open. His best chance at escape will be to run and hope that he can lose them.

Breathing out a low breath, Zane braces himself.

When he opens the door, he starts sprinting without hesitation.

Gunshots sound, and Zane stumbles and desperately tries to avoid them- and somehow, with his scanning and constant random movement, he does.

Ducking and dodging and weaving, it takes all of his skill to make it to the city- he even manages to outrun one of their cars.

When he reaches it, he climbs the first skyscraper he can find, still constantly changing positions to avoid getting hit.

If he had a faceplate, he would be grinning. It doesn’t take much longer for him to find the Bounty, and by spring boarding off of a building, he manages to climb aboard.

He rushes inside, running through the halls as he tries to find one of his teammates.

After only a minute, he finds Cole in the kitchen, staring down at his bowl of cereal with a rather miserable expression.

When Zane enters, he looks up, eyes widening in shock. “Zane?! Is that- is that you?!” He gets up from the table, and Zane runs into his arms, shaking in his relief.

He’s home.

Except only a moment later, he’s roughly shoved to the ground, and he looks up to see Cole with a disapproving and almost angry expression.

“How the hell did you escape?! I thought we had finally gotten rid of you!”

Zane feels his excitement fading. “Wh- what?” He can barely choke the word out as he stares at the upset expression on his boyfriend’s face.

“I swear, they said that they had a good handle on you.” He grumbles to himself, reaching for his phone.

Zane scrambles to his feet, struggling to process the events occurring.

“Cole?” He gets out weakly. “What are you-“

Cole shakes his head with a glare. “No. That’s it. I’m tired of pretending to put up with you. We had finally gotten rid of you, and I’m not going to fake loving something like you again.”

Every piece of him is trembling as he desperately tries to make sense of his boyfriend’s words. There- there has to be something he’s missing here!

“What’s going on in here?” A new voice asks as its owner enters the room. Zane breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Kai, and he makes to move towards him, but the dismayed and upset expression he receives stops him.

“The fuck is it doing here?” He protests, looking angry. “I thought we had gotten rid of it!”

Cole sighs with a shake of his head. “Apparently not.” He grumbles.

When Jay shows up, Zane backs away, fearing the worst. What could possibly-

Jay stares at him for a few moments. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Zane?” He turns to look at Kai. “How did it get here?”

Cole shrugs. “It must’ve escaped. I’m calling them now.”

“W- wait!” Zane finally manages to choke out. All eyes return to him, and he fumbles to try to find the words.

He can’t figure out how to reason with how upset they are, so he instead tries to figure out how to stop them.

“Don’t- don’t call them. Please, I- I just escaped, I only wanted to-“

“Is it… begging?” Kai scoffs. “What do you know? It can take a hint.”

Jay shakes his head. “It’ll get annoying after a while though. At least the things I have to say are interesting.”

“I- you…” Despite how he struggles, nothing he can come up with makes sense. Why would they be acting in this way? They couldn’t… they couldn’t actually be serious?

Zane knows he’s shaking, he’s shaking so much, and with the stress over the past month or so, something inside of him snaps.

He starts to cry.

If he were human, there would be tears on his face, but instead he shakes as his breathing picks up, shuddering and almost falling as his body tries to show his pain.

“Please…” He chokes out, unsure of what else to do. Nothing about this situation makes any sense, but he finds himself falling apart anyway.

Kai stares at him for a few moments. “Okay, that’s enough. Stop crying.”

Zane couldn’t make himself stop if he tried. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold on, to hold himself together.

Fear takes over him as Kai’s hand lights ablaze and the red ninja steps closer with malice in his eyes.

“I told you to stop crying.” He reminds in an even more threatening tone.

Zane flinches back, but he still can’t stop himself. His emotions have finally taken over, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from falling apart completely.

Kai smacks him across the face, hand still on fire.

The heat burns against his circuits, especially badly due to his lack of a faceplate. But that’s not even what hurts the most.

Kai just hit him.

He hurt him.

For crying.

Zane crumples to his knees, his body wracked with sobs created by both emotional and physical pain. He struggles to find any explanation, but none come to mind.

“Don’t- please, don’t… Kai!” He sobs out the name of his love, more than ready to beg him for mercy.

“I told you to stop crying! You’re not human, stop acting like one!” The red ninja snaps, looking prepared to do it again.

Cole stops him, setting the phone down. “Easy.” He prompts.

Zane finds himself breathing a quiet sigh of relief. They- it- they’ll stop now, they’ll take him back to his room and tell him that they still love him and explain the reasoning behind what they had done-

“Don’t break it before we all get a turn.” Cole smiles darkly, and Zane feels a small whimper escape him, still finding himself hoping that there is some logical reasoning behind this.

He’s roughly kicked in the stomach, and the super-strength behind it makes him scream out, hoping against hope that he’s missing a detail that proves that they don’t mean this, that it’s still okay, that they still love him-

A shock of electricity makes him cry out again, and he shakily looks up to see Jay smirking.

“I like these sounds a lot better than it’s talking.” The blue ninja decides.

A whimper escapes him, but he has no time to reply before he’s blasted in the face with fire, the heat forcing him to fall backwards in a meager attempt to get away. It still doesn’t stop the pain or the scream, but he finds himself scrambling back, trying to get away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Cole snarls, grabbing him by the collar of his tattered and torn gi. He roughly pulls the nindroid closer, a menacing glare on his face.

“We’re not through with you.”

Zane whimpers, still trying to pull away, but his efforts turn out to be useless as he’s dropped to the floor and zapped with lightning again.

The electricity makes him glitch some, and for a moment he could swear that he was back in the training room.

But then his vision clears- just in time for him to get blasted with fire, tearing another scream from him.

“Please, I…” Zane finds himself coming to terms with his situation, and it only makes him sob more.

They never did love him, did they?

“Stop.” He chokes out the word miserably, not really expecting them to listen. “Please, I… please stop.”

He’s kicked in the face, tearing another agonized screech from him as the pain grows to be overwhelming.

Another shock of lightning, another blast of fire, another rough hit… it all starts to blur together as he sobs, begging and pleading the ones he thought loved him for mercy.

After what feels like a thousand eons, they stop, leaving him on the floor.

“Someone knock it out.” Kai decides. “We don’t need it putting up a fuss when we take it back.”

Zane makes to try and speak, to try and stop them, but his voice won’t work, too damaged by the rough abuse.

“I’ll do it, I can use my lightning to force it to shut down.” Jay decides.

Zane doesn’t bother trying to resist as he’s shocked into unconsciousness.

There isn’t a real point to it, anyway.

—————————————————

Zane wakes up as he’s being dragged through the halls, dragged around back in the facility.

He doesn’t resist as he’s taken into the training room and chained back down, too miserable to even attempt it.

Martha walks into the room, and Zane looks up at her, sure that his pain must be clearly shown.

She opens her mouth to speak, but Zane does first.

“Please, Master… don’t hurt me. Please, I… let me go back to my locker.” His voice sounds so numb, so detached from himself.

She arches an eyebrow but still nods, calling the guards back in to drag him away.

He’s put back into the locker, and he starts to sob once again, wishing that things were different.

But they aren’t. He really is just a stupid metal-

ARE YOU OKAY?

Zane hears a half-chuckling sob escape him, too tired to even think straight. But still, he responds.

I AM INTACT

There’s a pause, and Zane considers activating his sleep mode. Perhaps it would help him-

MORE SENSORS?

When it’s tapped out, Zane feels his breathing catch. His sensors. Of course! He had forgotten that they could manipulate what he could see…

But it felt so real. Could it really have been an illusion?

I THINK SO

He’s not entirely sure anymore. Because if they are able to manipulate him that much, how could he ever tell fiction from reality? How is he to tell what’s real?

There’s a long pause before Cryptor replies.

IT WILL BE OKAY

At the message, Zane finds himself starting to cry again.

Can it really be okay? After everything they’ve done and will continue to do, how can he believe that?

Cryptor has held on here for over a year and a half. Zane can keep himself together for a little while longer.

Shakily, he taps out his own message.

THANK YOU

But when he activates his sleep mode that night, all he has are nightmares.

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago zangst #zangst #ninjago fanfiction #psychological torture #torture #trauma

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Audio

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: ʲᵘʸᵉᵒⁿ

Genre: romantic fluff cause im fucking feeling it leave me alone + drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

Stigma

Bourbon

Highway To Heaven (smut)

“my love.”

A/N: there is a small time jump between the last chapter and this one so just keep that in mind :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“today, we are all gathered here in the name of the world’s craziest rookie lawyer, for winning a case that had she had nearly no chance of winning--”

“oh, for gods’ sake--” you tug on sunwoo’s sleeve, trying to get him to sit down. “can you sit your ass down--”

“no, let me speak! you’ve done enough speaking in court today--” sunwoo snatches his arm back, the soju in his other hand nearly spilling. eric and chanhee watch on with bright faces, their proud smiles gleaming.

the private room in the barbecue eatery was filled with the entire office. the business case that you’ve been working on for the last two months had concluded this evening with you winning the case, and you couldn’t be happier.

you wish could tell colleagues that most of the quality work was done by the ceo, but he’s just told everybody that the both of you have invested equal amounts of effort into finding every loophole in the case that you could build on.

you were in tables of four in the private room, and the smell of barbecued meat has probably become one with your clothes. you were seated at the same table as chanhee, sunwoo and eric and behind you sat your manager, lee jaehyun, the ceo and kim younghoon, another colleague whom you didn’t know was close to them.

in fact, most of the office was close to everybody. there were only fifteen lawyers in your section, so it wasn’t difficult to form a bond with everybody.

you haven’t seen your mother or his since the dinner about the law firm. the swavroski deal was still sitting in juyeon’s office collecting dust, and juyeon has been going over to your cozy, little apartment outside of the city on fridays and saturdays.

to get away from city life and his responsibilities that he’s still been trying to run from.

you weren’t sure when your parents were going to hunt you down and attempt to shove your responsibilities down your throat as well, but that was a problem to worry about when it comes.

you could still remember the day juyeon announced to his house staff that they could take saturday off with no change in income. the looks on their faces were priceless, and when they found out where he was leaving his extravagant penthouse to, they literally got on their knees to thank you.

not for giving them a day off, but for finally getting juyeon out of the city that’s been wearing thin at his sanity.

it only confirmed how close his house staff was to him, even if he was their boss and they could’ve been treated less than they were. no words could’ve described how proud you were when his kindness was reflected in their gratitude for taking care of him.

“as i was fuckin’ saying...” sunwoo’s last word was garbled and his eyelids began drooping. eric and chanhee began lowering their heads in slight embarrassment, knowing that he was already part drunk. “you!” sunwoo nearly throws his soju glass at you.

“are the craziest rookie ever. three cases plus one impossible case in eight months?! sick.”

“i agree!” your manager calls out from the other table. your eyes catch a glimpse of juyeon giving you the smallest smile. “you’ve exceeded our expectations as a newbie, and i hope you’ve exceeded your own.”

lee sangyeon lifts his glass, and everybody else follows. they cheer in unison, and the attention causes you to turn red in embarrassment. the satisfaction gained from being the person you wanted to be without any repercussions from being a chaebol was sweet on your tongue, and you bask in the overwhelming feeling of pride.

“but wait!” sunwoo shouts again, taking the soju bottle and refilling his own glass. everybody turns their attention back at him after downing the shot that was for you, some of them following suit and refilling their glass as well. you shake your head at chanhee, who was sitting opposite you, casually picking up some meat to munch on. “there’s one more thing i’d like to toast you for!”

“we’ve heard you enough about that stupid bowling match, sunwoo!” one of your colleagues yell out from another table. “we know y/n trashed you!”

you give him a smirk and loudly hurl a “ha!” in his face as he looks down at you from your side. chanhee and eric burst out in laughter, as so does everybody else in the restaurant.

“no! no,” sunwoo’s voice booms through the private room, his hands outstretched now as if asking someone to wait. you sigh, a smile refusing to leave your lips as you soak up the lively atmosphere. you fill up your own glass, ready to down the shot regardless of what he was about to say.

“i want to congratulate you on winning the biggest prize in the office--”

wait what--

“sunwoo--”

“lee. ju. yeon.”

your eyes widen and you choke on your soju, your vision barely catching chanhee and eric aggressively reaching over the table and looking like they were about to beat the fuck out of him.

there was an expectation to be crushed by an awkward atmosphere with gasps and whispers, but there was none of it.

instead, lee jaehyun stands up with his glass and throws a fist into the air.

“I WIN!”

your heart stops.

you look across your table and over to the other, eyes scanning juyeon as he quickly yanks on jaehyun’s blazer and tries to shut him up.

“God damn it!” another colleague from another table exclaims. suddenly, the whole room start to cheer and whistle, and your table looks on with complete confusion.

“it wasn’t me who started the bet this time! he was the only person in the office who was dumb enough to think you two weren’t already together!” lee jaehyun waves juyeon off, relaxed.

what?

“juyeon! did you really think none of us picked up on it? like yeah, sure, you’ve never hooked up with her in the office like, ever, but it was so obvious that you got happier after you worked with her on the case!” someone else calls out to the ceo.

your brain was busy glitching, not catching the proud smiles on your colleagues’ faces.

“why did you people let me bet with lee jaehyun?!” the colleague, who you assumed lost the bet to lee jaehyun, whines out loud.

“nobody fucking told you to!!!!!” everybody else yells at him.

“are you serious?” juyeon finally releases lee jaehyun and looks around his employees, who you know look at him more as their friend than their boss.

“do you treat us as a bunch of idiots?” another colleague calls out. “do you have any idea how gloomy you were every time you came around office with your father?”

“i remember he was so happy the first two years he was working here and then nearing his six months hiatus, he came in everyday with a cloud over his face!”

you watch, entertained, but also a little worried. juyeon had a shy smile pressed on his lips and you could see his ears reddening while his colleagues decoded and exposed the hell out of him.

“ah... i thought you guys never really bothered with me because of my father...” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes now looking down at his feet. lee jaehyun has the audacity to walk over to the colleague who lost the bet, his palm reached out and his fingers asking for his prize.

“just because your father was a shit-show, it doesn’t make you any less of a capable lawyer of your own.”

“and you!” someone yells in your direction. you were scared to listen to what she had to say, but she does it anyway.

“when are we getting our first lee-baby?”

everybody in the room erupts into cheers of encouragement.

you feel the blood rush into your face and ears and your eyes nearly blacked the fuck out at the question. you were so relieved that none of your colleagues were trashing you for being in a relationship with their ceo, and you should probably thank juyeon for being such a kind and reasonable boss.

in reality, everybody didn’t have a problem with you either.

you always tried your best to be nice to everybody in the office, so it must’ve paid off in some sense.

“ah-- ah!” juyeon waves his hands in the air, getting everybody to calm down like he was doing damage control. your table starts teasing you mercilessly, and you couldn’t decide if you were more relieved that nobody hated you, or on edge that the whole office wants a fucking baby when you’ve only been with juyeon a little more than a month. “nobody is getting a baby anytime soon!”

“but can we at least know if the two of you have gotten it on?”

oh, my god.

where is a hole when you need one?

your manager visibly has difficulty keeping his emotions and thoughts off his face, and lee jaehyun just raises a cocky brow at juyeon, a smirk threatening to show up on his lips.

and this was the first time juyeon has frozen completely like a statue.

oh, no.

why didn’t he just deny it--

“i fucking told you so!” a female colleague stands up and her chair slides backwards at the impact.

so many things were happening at once, and you couldn’t believe just how close everybody was with one another for them to be making these bets about their boss behind his back.

“pay up!” she walks to other tables, hands opened up and they slam ten dollar bills into her palm.

“this is so unfair, you obviously got the tip-off from jaehyun!” someone groans while handing her the bill.

“you were involved in the bet?!” you finally yell across the room at your desk neighbour. juyeon takes a step toward jaehyun, and the movement scares him.

“no!” he instinctively takes a step back. “that’s why i didn’t bet! because i already knew!”

you sigh loudly and slam your forehead against the table, not caring about the little specks of oil on the surface.

your colleagues spend the next thirty minutes trying to get you to kiss for show, and so when the ceo did just that, you swore you could’ve gone deaf in that very moment.

though it wasn’t difficult to keep your relationship with the ceo under wraps when you were in the office, it sure as hell felt satisfying when he could drape his arm over your shoulders without worrying about anybody else.

juyeon settles the bill for everybody and he sends them on their way home, thanking them for their hard work for the week and to enjoy their weekend.

your colleagues congratulate the both of you formally, some even telling you the same things his house staff said to you when juyeon first announced his saturday getaways to your place. the both of you wait for everybody to disperse before you hook your arm on his, and you walk to the nearby carpark where his Porsche was sitting in.

“do you need anything from home?” you wait for juyeon to sit himself in the driver’s, watching him check the gears as per routine.

“uh... i still have clothes at your place, right?” he wraps his hands around the steering wheel, and it never fails to amaze you how small his hands make it look.

“pretty sure you have at least three sets sitting in my wardrobe,” you lean back and rest your head against the headrest, looking at him in the corner of your eye. “even if you aren’t satisfied with the amount of clothes you have at my place, we could always go to the nearest shopping mall to get more.”

juyeon thinks it over, hand reaching for the drivers’ stick after turning on the engine. “but the nearest shopping mall from your place is like a fifteen-minute drive away.”

you turn to face him and shoot him a look of disapproval. “you realise that’s literally the whole point of me living there, right? so it’s secluded and quiet and peaceful. and besides, i like going to the mall by public transport. i get to see all the views of the lake every time i’m on a bus,” you turn to look out the window as he drives off. “unlike your stinky-ass penthouse... five-minute drive from office and all you see on the way are buildings, buildings and more buildings.”

“hey--”

“tell me i’m wrong,” you snap your head to look at him, squinting your eyes at him playfully. juyeon sighs in defeat, his lips curled up in a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the board quietly creaks under the weight of the both of you, the scent of the lake was the only thing in the air and the breeze does you the honour of brushing juyeon’s soft, undone hair out of his eyes and face. it gave you the perfect view of his side profile, and the stars in the sky just make it all the more worthwhile.

your favourite part about his weekend getaways to your place was watching him forget that he was a chaebol and had responsibilities back in the city. the first time he walked this boardwalk, you could’ve sworn he had tears in his eyes.

but your ceo being a chaebol and a slightly egoistic man, you know he wouldn’t have admitted it even if you asked.

your interlocked hands were swinging gently between the both of you, and your oversized cardigan makes you look extra tiny right next to him. no heels, no formal wear.

these walks were usually done in silence. you were already used to the tranquility of living by the lake and alone, so while it took you some time to get used to having somebody else stay in your small apartment, it took juyeon some time to fully immerse himself in a life he never knew was possible.

you rest your head on his shoulder and let nature’s music surround you. the water gently lapping against the posts that hold up the boardwalk and the rocks near the shore behind you. the chirps of distant crickets. the rhythmic breathing you could feel with every shallow rise of his torso under your head.

“did you ever regret running away from your family?”

you blink to yourself, allowing his question to sink in. your fingers were mindlessly drawing circles on the back of his hand.

“i worried about being self-sustainable when i first ran, but after a year of being a lawyer’s assistant in a small company and watching my bank account increase...” you smile at your own effort. “i’m not gonna lie, it felt really good.”

“i can only imagine.”

“my father was never around because his life was in another country and he only shows up like once in a few years and i was left alone with my mom. i was constantly upset with her because i never felt like she treated me like her child. she was always making me feel like i was just... a talented child. she’d never come to any of my events or whatever i had because she was always so busy... and when i was old enough to start speaking for myself at those lame-ass rich people gatherings, she started using me as a selling point. it was always ‘smart, capable daughter with a bright future’, never ‘beautiful, make-me-proud daughter’. so... running away felt like i was running away from her.”

silence.

“even after i left, she’d find some way to try to get in touch with me and i had no choice but to make a deal with her. i’d still meet her for meals when she was in the country, but i didn’t want her meddling with my life or my finances. the swavroski ownership was supposed to be a gift for my birthday last year, and it felt more like a bribery to get me to go home and be her chaebol princess.”

“you know, if you had signed the deal and became the owner of swavroski, you wouldn’t need to work at the firm. if you signed the deal, you might’ve even met me,” he lets out a small chuckle. “my father is the bureau’s business manager, so it’s highly likely that wherever your mother goes, my father goes too, and if my memory doesn’t fail me, i first met your mother at a swavroski release event two years ago. which tells me that she’s a fan, and she’d probably throw one hell of a party and invite my family if her daughter were to become the owner of swavroski.”

a pathetic smile appears on your lips and you sit up straight, eyes looking up at the sky and you notice juyeon turning to look at you in your peripheral vision.

“then i guess we were meant to cross paths. i was meant to go in a whole circle and end up with you.”

“well,” his voice breaks the peaceful atmosphere between you. you side-eye him, already knowing from his tone that he was going to say something that warrants a punch. “had i met you at the swavroski event, i probably wouldn’t have bothered to talk to you.”

you send a punch into his right arm. he winces with exaggeration, pouting at you and closing his eyes like he was going to cry.

“but then again, had that case not come our way, we wouldn’t have had the chance to work together. had i not snooped around in your house and tried to kill my eyes by staring at the portraits in that dark hallway... none of this would’ve happened.”

you fix your eyes back on the sky, and you look at the faint, but visible white dots in the dark canvas. you were so used to coming here alone, never did you expect yourself to be here with another person so soon after running away, much less a chaebol from a family in the same working circle as yours.

“life has a way of putting you in places you were meant to be... and i guess, in my case, it’s with y--”

your heart stops.

you blink at him, who was on one knee, with a ring in a box in his hands, and his eyes shining under his hair.

“uh--” you stammer like you always do when you’ve got no vocabulary in your head.

“i would’ve called whatever you just said ‘bullshit’ if the last two months didn’t happen, but it did. and i meant every single thing i’ve said to you since i met you. since the first night we slept together.”

“that’s not a great thing to say in a proposal--”

“let me have my moment--” juyeon snorts in embarrassment. you suck your lips between your teeth, watching him gather his nerves. it was so strange seeing him flustered or nervous because that image of him was so far away from the man you first saw in his office.

you remember he deprived you of your right to even ask questions.

“i meant it when i asked you to stay with me. your mother knows me, so since i have her approval and she hasn’t hired a sniper to shoot me in the head...”

oh...

“will you marry me?”

Part 9: All Time Low

#timetohajima #juyeon #i DIED #my HEARTEU #lee juyeon #juyeon imagines #juyeon imagine #juyeon fanfic #the boyz imagine #the boyz fanfic #drama #chaebol #chaebol juyeon #the boyz

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marvels-writings · 4 years

Text

Rumor Has It (7)

Series Masterlist

Carol Danvers Masterlist

A/N: This is the last part of this series, kinda sad about it, I’ll prolly end up writing an epilogue like I did for Pretend later

Most would think losing someone is the worst thing that can happen, in reality, not knowing if you’re going to lose someone is the worst thing. You didn’t know if Carol was going to be okay or not as you paced in front of her hospital room and Maria tried to tell you to calm down. You didn’t know if she would blame you after waking up from the anesthetics.

“Y/n, it’s going to be okay.” Maria comforted, sitting on one of the waiting chairs, a little exasperated from watching you pace, you were a good friend of hers and her best agent, probably her favorite.

“You don’t know that, she already flatlined once.” You murmured, continuing to pace the room.

“Their equipment glitched, you know that.” Maria stated, you did know that, but it still scared the shit out of you when you heard the line go flat for a second.

“Is she okay?” Natasha Romanoff asked as she turned the corner into the hospital, Maria stood up.

It had been a few months since Carol had moved into the compound with the Avengers and the stones had been used to bring everyone back, including Natasha. Vision was the only one missing. You still found it hard to process the reality of the entire Avengers team standing next to you.

“She’s stable.” Maria answered, everyone looked through the window, moving past you to look at her, she looked peaceful from the outside, the doctors had just finished taking the bullet out, it had seemed the bullet was a shrapnel, it had divided itself into 5 different parts, which is why the procedure took long.

“Hi, I’m Steve.” Steve said, holding his hand out for you to shake, you shook it and introduced yourself.

“So you’re y/n.” Natasha said, you raised an eyebrow as all the Avengers turned to face you.

“You know about me?” You asked tentatively, you noted Maria smirking slightly before they replied.

“Maria and Fury haven’t been able to stop talking about you for Christ’s sake.” Tony Stark stated, holy shit Tony Stark knew about you.

“They even had me set up a room for you after this mission was over,” He said, holding out his metal plated arm for you to shake. “I’m Tony.”

“A room?” You asked, shaking his hand and looking around in confusion. They all nodded, mouths quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Fury and Maria want you to come live with us.” Steve stated, your eyes widened.

After you got your partner shot, after the entirety of SHIELD except the top dogs hated you, they wanted you to become an Avenger, guilt flooded your system as you looked at Carol, sighing before answering.

“I don’t, I don’t think I deserve that after this,” You gestured to where Carol was lying down. “A week ago I would’ve been happy to, but I don’t think I should, thank you for the offer.” A frown went on all of their faces.

“Y/n, I saw the surveillance files, what happened wasn’t your fault,” Maria stated, you opened your mouth to argue but she cut you off. “If you hadn’t been there, or if it was any other agent, maybe even an Avenger, Carol wouldn’t be alive.”

“She’s right,” Fury said from behind you, you whirled around to face him, he flicked his eye at Carol’s state and back to you. “You’re the best I’ve got, you deserve this.”

“But-”

“That’s an order y/n.” Maria stated in a tone which allowed no arguments, she was still smirking at you.

“I’ve never been ordered to join the Avengers before.” You muttered, Nick laughed a little and put his hand on your shoulder before leaving with Maria to deal with the rest of the mission details, you’d promised to file in a mission report eventually.

Some of the Avengers stayed with you, making small talk, Tony suggested to move into your room, you decided to do it later, needing to apologize to Carol before. Eventually they all left and the doctors let you into the room, you sat in the waiting chair, guilt and hope for the future demanding you stay by her side. Your eyes eventually fell shut after a few hours, guilt and exhaustion eventually weighing down on you.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

You woke up gasping, your dreams were filled with the room you’d been in, with Carol bleeding, the men you had shot dying, the groans and the smell of blood filling your senses, you squint your eyes shut and tried to get your breathing under control, willing the sights out of your head.

“You okay?” Carol asked softly from her bed, you opened your eyes to find her sitting in bed, a book in her hands as she looked at you with worry in her eyes.

“Nightmare.” You answered quickly, offering her a glass of water for her to wave it off.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, putting the glass down and standing up nervously, only to sit back down, your body not quite rested yet.

“Good actually, I heard about you moving in with us.” Carol said with a smile, the smile fading when she saw your expression of guilt as you didn’t meet her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, you looked up at her, trying your best to keep eye contact this time.

“I don’t think I deserve it,” You answered softly. “I got you shot, and everyone keeps saying that if I wasn’t there you would be dead but-” You were pacing in the tiny room now, hands coming up to grasp your hair.

“I would,” Carol said, you looked at her, sincerity filled her eyes. “Y/n, if you weren’t there, I would be dead, the guys you shot would have killed me, there was no way I could’ve fended them all off and called backup.”

“I-”

“Don’t you dare argue with a patient.” Carol joked, you laughed a little, knowing Carol wouldn’t let you argue more about this, butterflies erupting in Carol’s stomach at the sound. “You know, this wasn’t how I expected this mission to end.” You thought aloud, sitting down in the waiting chair, scooting it closer to Carol.

“What’s the difference between the way you expected and now?” Carol asked, putting her book on the side table next to the glass.

“Well, I didn’t expect to become an Avenger,” You thought aloud, exhaustion making you lose your filter. “And I didn’t expect to move into the same building as crush who had happened to be my partner-”

Carol’s eyes widened as she smirked, a blush growing across your face as you were about to hurry to leave.

“Wait!” Carol shouted, but you were already halfway out the doorway. “I have a crush on you too!” She shouted, you stopped and came back in, eyes wide.

“You’re not pulling my leg?” You asked timidly, still standing in the doorway with your head peeking inside.

“You think I can get off the bed to do that?” Carol joked, then realized it was a bad joke. “Sorry, bad joke, you like me anyways, right?” “You’re literally Carol Danvers,” You stated, Carol’s heart bloomed when you didn’t say ‘Captain marvel’ or ‘superhero’, but instead you liked her for the person she was.

“How could I not?” You joked, plopping back down in the chair next to her. “You still like me despite the rumors right?” “Rumor doesn’t always have it.” Carol joked, you laughed, Carol laughed with you even though it hurt, happy because you were.

Both of you talked for another hour, hearts filled with hope for the future. Carol knew she wouldn’t always have time for a relationship, but for you, she was willing to do anything, even erase all the rumors, because after all, you proved that Rumors aren’t always right.

A/N: sorry the last parts are always worse than the middle parts, feedback is still great tho!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @duvetsandpillows , @ohfuckno , @justarandomhumanhere , @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

Text

Torn Apart

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

This is a bit of a shorter story, and it’s late, but hey, I’m glad I was able to get it done. Season three of this AU, everybody! It starts here. The boys are meeting up with Schneep again, who has some things to explain. And it seems that Anti’s been defeated, but how true is that? After all, it can’t be that easy to get rid of a glitch. (Also, be warned, there’s a tiny, one-paragraph reference to suicidal thoughts, but hopefully it’s not too noticeable.) Hope you guys enjoy reading, even though it got delayed ^-^

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty

The evening was clear, the twilight sky tinged purple. Chase, sitting on the front steps of the house, watched the cars drive down the street. The concrete steps were still a bit warm from the late summer sun. It might’ve been peaceful, if...

The front door swung open, and Jack poked his head out. “Hey, uh...you good, Chase?” he asked. “You’ve been out here for a while.”

“I’m good,” Chase said idly. “How’re Lily and Moira?”

“They’re good. Lily went to sleep.” Jack paused. “We got to think of something to say other than ‘good’ to describe how people are. Anyway, Schneep wanted to talk to all of us.”

“Hmm...yeah.” It was about time. The guy disappears for a month, then comes back all...different. Chase supposed he wanted to give out explanations. He sighed, and stood up. “Alright, let’s go, then.”

Chase followed Jack into the dining room. JJ and Schneep were already there, with JJ sitting at the table and Schneep hovering nearby. Jack took a seat at the table as well, but Chase hesitated. He glanced at JJ, who immediately glanced away. In all the commotion of the day, they hadn’t really had time to make up for the fight they’d had. Regret pooled in Chase’s stomach. He...he really hadn’t meant it, when he snapped that JJ never had any friends. He hadn’t meant it to be that hurtful. God, why did he have to do things like this? He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What if he made it worse? And JJ didn’t look too good right now; he’d been sleeping most of the afternoon, ever since he apparently drained his magic. If Chase said the wrong thing now, it would be kicking him while he’s down.

“Chase, are you going to sit, or what?” Schneep snapped.

“Ak!” Chase jumped in surprise. “Alright, alright.” He took the chair across from JJ. “What about you? Are you going to sit, or just stand there?”

Schneep hummed. “No, I do not think so.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

You don’t have to, of course, JJ said. But I feel we should get down to business quickly. What is it you wanted to talk to us about?

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then Jack jumped in, “Hey, uh, JJ wants to know what you wanted to talk to us about.” JJ winced, apparently having forgotten that Schneep couldn’t see the signs to understand him.

“Oh. Yes, yes, well...” Schneep shrugged. “I am sure you all have questions. I thought I would give you some time to process what happened—”

Chase suddenly laughed. “Oh, you mean how you suddenly showed up and fucking killed Anti, who we’ve barely been able to hold our own against in the past?”

“Well...yes,” Schneep said.

“Yeah, I mean…” Jack jumped in, “first of all, how’d you do that, second of all, how’d you know to do that?!”

Schneep laughed, folding his arms and bouncing in place. “Well...if I am to be honest, I...am not sure.”

The other three stared back at him, then glanced at each other. “Uh...how do you not be sure about something like that?” Chase asked. “Like...I mean, I’m pretty sure you would remember figuring out how to kill a glitch monster.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Well, for some people, memories are not so certain, Chase. Especially after having their head fucked with by nightmares.”

Chase winced. “...sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at the surface of the table.

Jack reached over and placed his hand near Chase’s. After a moment, Chase grabbed it and squeezed his fingers tight.

“Is okay, Chase,” Schneep said, voice a bit softer. “I suppose it is part my fault for not talking about it.”

“Hey, you’re not obligated to talk about it, Hen,” Jack pointed out.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying,” Schneep said, hurriedly changing the subject. “I am sure that something happened to me, that somehow my magic—mein Gott, it still feels strange to say that—it went all over the place.”

JJ tapped on the table, then started signing. Jack, please translate to Schneep what I am saying.

“Okay,” Jack said, nodding.

Your magic is teleportation, correct? From what I understand, that is a difficult power to master.

After Jack translated, Schneep nodded, pursing his lips. “I believe it is something like that. Though it might be something more.” He finally sat down, taking the last chair at the table. “What happened...after Anti revealed himself, and we fought, something happened, and I disappeared, though I did not mean to. You all saw that, yes?” The other three made sounds of agreement. “After that, I...somehow, I...I went to...to many different places very quickly.” He seemed to be struggling to describe the events. “And it went quicker and quicker, and then I saw things.”

“You saw things?” Jack repeated, sounding a bit surprised. “But you...can’t.”

“It was not with my eyes, it was as if in my mind,” Schneep explained. “But they were still seen by me, which is why I doubt that these things were true, though they might have been. What is more unbelievable was the voice afterwards. I am starting to highly doubt that was real, but he did help me figure out how to...ah, what is the word?” He snapped his fingers a couple times. “Something like...get a...something with hands, but not exactly, it is in the word...”

Handle? JJ suggested, tapping out the word in morse code.

“Exactly!” Schneep grinned. “Get a handle on what I could do. So either that voice was real and helped, or it was my brain trying to tell me how it worked. Either way, it is the same.”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “Who could’ve done something like that? I mean...I guess they’d have to know how to teleport, how likely is that? JJ said that was hard to do.”

“It is besides the point,” Schneep dismissed. “The point is that this started me to figuring out how this magic works.”

“Okay...” Chase said slowly. “But why’d you take a month to meet up with us? Where were you?”

“It...did not seem like a month,” Schneep said. “I could’ve guessed it was a week.”

I suppose your powers could’ve...gotten out of control for three weeks, JJ said. Jack quickly translated the signs again.

“Well again, there is a possibility that none or only some of this happened,” Schneep said. “And I could have been having a breakdown and wandering the city the whole time.”

“I think we would’ve heard of that, if that was the case,” Chase muttered. “Cause I mean...we were looking out for you. We had the news on and stuff.”

“Okay, but I feel like we’re getting off track here,” Jack interrupted. “How’d you figure out how to defeat Anti?”

“Well, after everything calmed down, regardless of if it existed or not, I spent the rest of the time practicing,” Schneep said. “I was staying in my apartment—”

Chase suddenly slammed his hands on the table. “How did we think to check everywhere but there?!”

Schneep chuckled. “Is understandable. We have not been back to any of our homes in a while.”

Still, Chase shook his head, looking disappointed in himself. “Anyway, you were practicing?”

“Yes. The whole time, getting better at things like this.” The air seemed to split, and suddenly Schneep was standing in the corner. Then, only a second later, he was back in the chair. “I knew we had to find a way to get rid of Anti forever. I thought that we had done well, taking out that string that was part of him. That defeated him for a while. So I thought if we could destroy it, that would defeat him forever.”

“So...basically, you guessed that it would work,” Chase summarized.

Schneep huffed. “It was a theory. I also thought that those stitches on his neck and wrists had something to do with it, and that getting rid of those would help. Honestly, I did not think it would take that short a time.”

“Turns out that practice makes perfect,” Jack muttered. “Or...practice makes you able to fight a glitch demon.”

“Well, practice and these.” Schneep suddenly placed something on the table that he definitely had not had before. A pair of scissors. Oh the whole, they looked rather ordinary, or average size and made of a shining silver metal. The only exception was that the blades looked unusually sharp.

The other three leaned forward to look at them. “...huh,” Chase said after a while. “I mean, they don’t look that strange.”

“They are not,” Schneep said. “Except for the fact that when I thought of getting something that could cut through Anti’s strange soul string, I pulled these out of nowhere.”

That’s impossible, JJ signed.

“Why’s it impossible, Jay?” Jack asked.

You can’t conjure items out of thin air, JJ explained. They have to be either summoned from somewhere, or transformed from something else. In all my studies, that is one of the consistent rules I have found.

“Well, then, where could these have been summoned from?” Chase asked. “Schneep?”

“I do not know,” Schneep answered, brows furrowing. “I did not think too much about it. I just needed them, and they appeared.”

“Well, if your magic is teleportation based, I’m guessing you must have teleported them from somewhere,” Jack reasoned. “Though that does leave questions like, I dunno, fucking...who had them in the first place? Would that person miss them? And how did that person make them so that they could cut through weird ass soul string?”

Before the discussion could continue any further, there was a cough. At some point, Stacy had appeared in the dining room entrance. “Hey, so, two questions,” she said. “One, are all of you going to stay here for the night? And two, can you tell me now what’s going on?”

The group was silent for a bit. “Um...well, I guess we’re going to be staying here,” Chase said slowly. “I mean, the three of us are. Schneep, I dunno about you...”

Schneep nodded. “I will be, too, but do not worry about space, I can just stay on the sofa.”

“And, for the second, um...” Chase looked at the other three, vaguely distressed. What was he supposed to do? It seemed like they defeated Anti, but what if they hadn’t? He couldn’t get Stacy and the kids anymore involved! Hell, the kids had already been taken! Jack shrugged, and gave him a thumbs up, but JJ wouldn’t meet his eyes. That caused a twinge somewhere in Chase’s chest. But he turned back to Stacy without acknowledging it. “Um...I guess I could...I mean, just the basics of what happened...but, um, can we do it tomorrow?”

Stacy leveled him with a stare, then sighed. “Yeah, alright. The girls have had enough excitement as it is.” She started to leave. “I work from 7 to 3, though, so we better have that conversation in the afternoon,” she said before disappearing down the hall.

Chase let out a breath, looking down at the dining room table. His hands were shaking. He curled them into fists. Suddenly, he stood up. “I’m, um...going to bed.” Without any further explanation, he turned and also left. Jack called after him, but he didn’t look back.

He made his way into the guest bedroom, and flopped down heavily on the bed. His chest rose and fell heavily as he blinked back tears. No, he wouldn’t cry again. He’d just been crying that morning, after they got back with the kids. After they’d defeated Anti, and...

He took a deep, shuddering breath. Well...he couldn’t lie to himself. He’d been expecting to find Jackie and Marvin again, just like they had when they defeated Anti the first time. But it seemed that...killing Anti had also killed...

No, he wouldn’t cry. He’d cried enough back when they’d first found the two of them dead. And besides, none of the others were reacting so strongly. It was just him that had gotten his hopes up for getting them back.

Chase rolled over onto his side. Now facing the other side, his eyes landed on the nightstand. Its drawer was closed, but he knew what was inside it. He froze for a moment, unable to look away. Then he suddenly buried his face in the pillow. No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

Slowly, twilight faded into night, and Chase stayed where he was, not moving once, not even when Jack and JJ came in to check on him. A few long hours later, he finally drifted off to sleep.

— — — — — — —

Most people probably wouldn’t open their door if someone knocked on it in the middle of the night. They might be asleep, and if they weren’t expecting anyone, why risk it? Luckily, he knew that the person in this particular town house would be awake. Or...he did know that, right? Or was he thinking of someone else? He thought he knew this person, but things were...things felt disconnected, not quite there. Nonetheless, he’d been wandering most of the day, and he could remember it being dangerous to be out in the city at night. He needed to get somewhere safe, and this address came to mind.

When there was no answer, he knocked on the door again, pounding on the wood. Putting just a little more force into the motion suddenly made him dizzy, and he leaned heavily against the doorframe as his head swirled.

Some time later, there was the sound of footsteps behind the door, and he realized that at some point a light had turned on inside, and could be seen through the window. When had that happened? A few moments later, and he heard the sound of the door unlocking. It opened outward. He stepped back to avoid the swinging door, and saw that there was now a black-haired man standing in the doorway, wearing a loose t-shirt and pajama pants. The man’s eyes were impossibly wide. “Wh...” He seemed at a loss for words. “How...? What...? Is this...some kind of joke?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but instead, suddenly lost all feeling in his legs and fell forward.

“Whoa!” The other man caught him just in time. “Shit, I...hang on.” He managed to lift him into his arms, awkwardly closing the door and bringing him into the house. Speaking of the house, the layout seemed...familiar. He’d been here before, hadn’t he? Because he wasn’t surprised at all when the man carried him into a nearby living room and set him down on a black couch. “Shit...” The dark-haired man backed up. “You, uh...need anything? Water? Medical attention? Also, please tell me if you’re actually here and actually are who I think you are.”

“Hmm...” He blinked slowly at the room. Yes, he’s been here before. He recognized the homemade paintings on the wall and the armchair that stood out due to its bright pattern of colorful spots. He tried to sit up, but his head was still spinning, so he decided to lay back down.

“Uh...can you talk?” The dark-haired man was hovering nearby, and he was sure that he knew him. “I have a text-to-speech app on my phone, if that’d help.”

“I...know you...” He finally managed to say. “I do.”

“Um...yeah, if you are who I think you are, I knew you, too,” the man said, shifting his weight where he stood. “Well…‘knew’ is the operative word here, ‘cause...aren’t you...you’re supposed to be...” He seemed hesitant to say it.

Suddenly, something clicked into place. He sat up straight, only to lean heavily against the back of the sofa. “Malcolm,” he said. “That’s your name, I know it. It sounds like...my name? No, not my name. The other name?” He blinked slowly. “It’s definitely not my name.”

“No,” the man—Malcolm said slowly. “Your name—if you’re actually who I’m seeing right now, your name is Jackie.”

Another click as a piece fitted neatly into the bigger picture. “Yeah...yeah, that’s me.” Jackie nodded, slowly at first, then faster. “Yeah, I’m exactly who you’re seeing right now.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah.” Malcolm nodded as well. “On one hand, that’s good, ‘cause it means I’m not seeing things. On the other hand...okay, no more beating around it, how the fuck are you alive?!”

“Ummmm...” Jackie shook his head. “I don’t...know. Did I die?”

“I mean, as far as everyone knew, yeah!” Malcolm stepped back, running his hands through his hair. “God, I went to your funeral. We fucking cremated you—”

“Oh, I did want that, didn’t I?” Jackie said idly, vaguely remembering a conversation that he had with someone about things like that.

“—I mean, was that not you?” Malcolm continued. “Was this some plot? I fucking—oh yeah, and then they investigated the scene and found that vigilante suit, what the fuck about that? Did anyone else know about that, or did you just not tell me?”

“Oh. Oh, you do the, um...” Jackie snapped his fingers a couple of times, scrambling to find the right piece of memory. “You do the police things. You’re a cop.”

“Oh no, I am a detective, you know that,” Malcolm emphasized. “There’s a difference.”

“Anyway, I don’t...think anyone else knew about that...?” Jackie said slowly. “No, the other one did. The other, the other...we lived together, he had to know, but I’m pretty sure he told the, uh...the doctor one, the nightmare one.”

Malcolm stared at him. He slowly walked over to the spotted armchair, sitting down heavily and leaning forward. “...Jackie,” he said. “So it is you. But you’re...you seem confused. Is everything alright?”

Jackie considered this. “I think so,” he said.

“Really? ‘Cause you seem to be having, um.” Malcolm pursed his lips. “Some memory problems. And the last time I saw you, you were dead, with no obvious cause of death but very clearly dead, and it looked like you kind of...well, killed your roommate. Whose name you also seem to have forgotten. You do know this isn’t normal, right?”

“Yeah.” Jackie laid down again, staring up at the ceiling. “I...something happened. How...how long ago was this thing you’re talking about?”

“Um, about two and a half years, now,” Malcolm said. “The department could never figure it out, though.” Jackie gave him a look, and he continued. “Y’know, it looked like some occult shit, there was a circle on the ground with candles, and both of you were dead, and you were holding a knife.”

“I remember that,” Jackie said, pressing a hand to his head. “It was...I-I still can’t remember the name, the other one, he—he tricked me, I lost my temper, I—something happened. I wanted to stop it...I think. I was the one with the knife? Then I must’ve been the one who wanted to stop it, I know it was one of us. Which means I’m the one that—well, I mean, I remember not meaning to, the other one, he moved at the wrong moment. I-I...I need to...fuck.”

Malcolm suddenly stifled a laugh. “You need to fuck?”

“What? No!” Jackie looked over at him. “I’m not the one who feels—no, wait, I am. I think. What’s the one with the, um...the pink, yellow, and blue? That one’s me, the other one’s the purple and black and white one, I don’t remember what they mean, though...”

“Um...okay, sorry I brought that up.” Malcolm glanced over at the room’s entrance. “God, Benjamin might come down to ask what’s going on.”

“That’s your...roommate,” Jackie said slowly. “Right?”

“Right.” Malcolm paused. “So...it’s clear that you don’t have any idea what happened. Or if you do, you’re not in a state to puzzle it out. So do you need anything? Do you have a place to stay for the night?”

“Oh. I thought I would stay here.” Jackie nodded. “Yeah, I...I remember it seemed like a good place to stay.”

“Really?” Malcolm asked. “I mean, I’m flattered, but...I mean, we’re not that...Can’t you stay with your Jack friend? Or the other ones, what is it, Henry and Chase—”

“Chase.” Jackie suddenly lurched, clutching his wrist. The force of the movement caused him to fall off the couch onto the floor. Malcolm cried out, and rushed over, but Jackie didn’t acknowledge him. “Chase, Chase, the hat one, Chase. We need him. He should be with us. Chase, Chase, puppet. Our pup̕pe͞t̶.”

Malcolm was taken aback for a moment, but he quickly moved on. “Okay, I’m sure we can call him or something in the morning. I don’t know his number, but you probably do, if you can remember it. Are you okay with me touching you, right now?” He waited for a response, but Jackie just kept mumbling, so he slowly reached out. When Jackie didn’t react, he helped him into a sitting position. “Okay. Jackie, how do you feel? Can you tell me?” No response. “Alright. That’s alright, if you can’t talk. Can you give me anything? Nodding? Can you blink twice if you can hear me? No? Alright, that’s fine, Jackie. I’m going to help you onto the couch, okay? There we go. I’m going to be right here, okay?”

Jackie still didn’t react at all, continuing to talk to himself, like he expected someone else to answer. Someone else who, up until recently, had always been there. But was now gone. Or was he the one who was gone? Had they separated, or had he split in half? Either way, he felt the absence keenly. Part of him was missing. Or he was the missing part. Or both. The pieces wouldn’t settle.

— — — — — — —

On the other side of the city, while Jackie and Malcolm were having their exchange, something very similar was going on with two others. It was happening inside a small shop that looked like a defunct clothing store, but once inside, turned out to be much more than that. The interior was cluttered with tables and shelves, piled high with books and knickknacks. Behind the shop’s counter, there were two open doors, one of which was ajar and revealing a small bathroom. And looking through the open door, you could see a man and a woman. The man was leaning over the sink, coughing, while the woman rubbed circles on his back.

“There, there...” The woman said awkwardly. She was dressed in a holographic vest and a skater skirt, her hair dyed blue and purple, and she also looked very confused and unsure. “Just...yeah.”

The man coughed again, and a spatter of red flew from his mouth, joining the pool gathering in the bottom of the ceramic sink. “Nnn...” he said.

“Jesus christ,” the woman muttered. “What happened to you? Besides, um, dying.”

“I died?” The man asked vaguely. He coughed again, staining his lips and teeth crimson.

“I mean, yeah. We buried you. Under that tree like you said.”

“Good...” The man mumbled. “That’s...” He didn’t continue, slumping against the sink.

“Whoa, hang on, there,” the woman said, catching him before his head smacked against the faucet.

“Don’ touch me...” The man waved her away, taking a few steps before falling against the counter.

“Jesus.” The woman crouched by him. “Look, what happened?”

“I...don’t...” He shook his head.

The woman paused. “Do you know who I am?”

It took him a moment to answer. “...Eve, right? No. No, that’s...that’s only part of it. It’s like...spelled weird.”

“Starts with a Y,” she prompted.

After another moment, he suddenly straightened. “Yvonne. That’s...that’s you.”

“Yeah.” Yvonne smiled. “Do you know who you are?”

There was no answer this time. Unless you counted the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes.

“Okay, it’s fine, you don’t need to answer right now.” Yvonne paused. “I’m guessing you don’t know what happened to you, then, so I guess it’s no use asking.”

“You said I died,” he said. “I...I remember that. The other one, he...he wanted to kill me. He did. It...it hurt.” He reached up to his neck. There was a slight red cut across this throat, no blood leaking out.

“It must’ve,” Yvonne said sympathetically. “I...well, if that happened for sure, I...” She hesitated, then blurted out the rest. “I can only conclude necromancy, but you’re too solid to be a spirit, and after two years, you’re too...there would’ve been some sign of decay, if you were brought back the other way.”

“Haha, my good looks.” He smiled a bit, the effect ruined by the blood on his teeth.

“Yeah, um, right.” Yvonne glanced towards the bathroom door. “Look, are you good now? I mean, there’s probably a whole trail from you throwing up blood all the way in here that I need to take care of. And as for you, uh...probably not a good idea to be in the bathroom if you’re gonna pass out or something.”

“Hmm...” He stood up, then started to list to the side. Yvonne caught him before he fell.

“Something’s wrong with you,” she muttered. “I mean, beyond the obvious. You feel...different.” She blinked, her eyes turning sky blue. Wisps of blue light, tinged with yellow at the ends, floated away from her fingers. “Révél e mai tamystiká oue animai,” she muttered.

“That’s a spell,” the man mumbled. “Anim, anim...root of something. Animal? Soul. Soul spell.”

“Yeah, that’s my specialty,” Yvonne said absentmindedly. “Yours, too. God, you must’ve been real...messed...up...” She trailed off. “Marvin...your soul is...” She could only gape. There were no words for what she was sensing.

“Mar—oh, that’s me! Me!” Marvin laughed, trying to step forward but quickly losing his balance, making Yvonne catch him. He didn’t notice; he was still laughing. “Me, me, me, just one, no actually, I think two, we think two, like there are two halves, but where’s the other one? Oh, oh. Where’s the difference? We need the other one, where is he, where is me?” A few more scattered laughs fell from his mouth.

“Shit, Marv.” Yvonne shook her head. “You need—” Suddenly, she stiffened, and her head whipped back towards the bathroom door. “Someone came in.” She shifted her position to see who it was, and her eyes widened. “Shit! Marvin, stay here, stay quiet.” She slowly set him down on the bathroom floor, still giggling to himself. Then quickly, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Marvin leaned his head against the closed door. “Me, me, we, me, we,” he whispered to himself, a few odd tears slipping from his eyes. Was there a difference between those words? He thought there might’ve been, once. But now they’ve blurred together. They meant the same thing, didn’t they? He wasn’t sure he liked that. Where did he stop? Where did the other begin? Or were they interchangeable? He definitely didn’t like how he didn’t know the answer to any of these questions.

There were voices coming from the other side of the door. He recognized Yvonne: “Ah, Mae, it’s a bit late for a raid, isn’t it? I tell you, this business has come clean.”

“We’d be fools to believe you at face value, Bell,” said another voice, one of an older woman. “But this isn’t us coming in to check on the legality of your wares.”

“Oh?” Yvonne sounded amused and confused.

“The Magi has done some poking around,” said the voice of Mae. “Set off by something I witnessed myself. Someone teleported directly into our library, disregarding all our shielding. This started an investigation, and after some searching, we have detected an oddly high amount of soul magic in this city.”

“Oh. Well, that’s...weird,” Yvonne said. “This someone must’ve been pretty powerful, to teleport directly there.”

“That’s besides the point,” Mae dismissed. “The soul magic is why we’re here. You are the only soul-based magician currently in the city.”

“Really?” Yvonne said, feigning intrigue. “I could’ve sworn there was another. I think he was some kind of stage magician?”

“Marvin Moore has been dead for over two years, leaving only you behind,” Mae said firmly. “And you have a record of disregarding ABIM laws.”

“I did, but I’ve turned over a new leaf,” Yvonne said. Her voice suddenly became serious. “I...learned about the results of my actions the hard way.”

“Nevertheless, this is a preliminary inspection,” Mae said. “We’re searching your shop, your storage, and your living area.”

“By all means, feel free.” Footsteps. “But if you’ll excuse me, I was just about to use the bathroom, so please.”

“Very well.” More footsteps, heading away.

Yvonne opened the door, slipping inside the bathroom again, keeping it closed enough to block Marvin from view of the other magicians now searching her shop. “Alright, that’s that,” she said under her breath. “Marvin, what the fuck have you been doing?”

“What have we been doing?” Marvin repeated idly. “Hmm...I can’t quite...it’s all jumbled.” He sighed, and closed his eyes.

“Marvin? Marvin are you—don’t you dare pass out on me! Not while there are ABIM agents in my shop! I need you to—Marvin!”

He felt her trying to shake him, but didn’t respond, already drifting. There was something missing. He felt it keenly. Or maybe he was the something that was missing. He couldn’t tell. The pieces wouldn’t settle.

— — — — — — —

There was a place in the city where all the electric lines met. It was walled off with a high fence, barbed wire at the top, to make sure that no one would sneak in and get hurt. But the fence couldn’t stop the thing slithering across the ground, green and glowing like a radioactive snake. The thing was small enough to squeeze right through the links in the fence, though on the other side, it fell apart. It wasn’t one long, solid unit like it had initially appeared, rather a bunch of small green strings, their ends cut, all moving in unison.

The strings crawled across the gravel of the walled-off space. Here, the power lines gathered and buzzed, held high off the ground. Boxes were attached to poles, with yellow warning signs and instructions plastered on them. The strings gathered around one of these poles, snaking up and spiraling around it, heading towards the attached box.

Here, the various pieces broke apart, wiggling into the seam of the box and managing to pry it open. Once inside, they reacted with the fuses. Green electric sparks flew from the box, and soon it lit up, white-hot electricity flying outward, frying the circuits inside.

The strings fell to the ground, unharmed. And they headed to another one, repeating the same process. And once that was done, they headed to another. And another.

And once everything inside the walled area was broken and smoking, the strings headed out to another, similar part of the power grid.

Hours later, morning dawned over a city without any power at all.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye #stitchedstories #the stitched septics #brigid writes fanfiction

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nev3rfound · 5 years

Text

the swan : chp.10 - dark days

nurse, friend, lover, assassin. these are the titles you were known under in his head, something he never wished to share until rumours spread of the swan being out of retirement.

overview / chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine / chapter ten / chapter eleven / chapter twelve (final chapter)

* masterlistin’

* commissions

(anything in italics is past tense)

“T,Tony?” You stutter as panic fills your eyes. “Some, some, somethings wrong.” The words leave your lips softly as your hand reaches for the device.

Tony watches closely as you begin to scream, cry out for mercy as you clutch your head, digging your fingers into your neck grab the device. He stands by the door, keying in the password but he is rejected every time. “Come on!” He yells, slamming his fist into the wall. “Don’t do this now.” He mutters before hearing you gasping for breath.

“Tony, tell, tell Bucky,” You lift your eyes up, focusing on Tony as the glass opens and he kneels in front of you, holding your hand. Taking a deep breath, you can feel the toxin’s spreading, rising through your body. This was it, this was your end. Words fail you as tears form in your eyes as Tony nods to you, understanding what you’re trying to say.

“You can tell him yourself, kid.” Tony tells you. “And, and that I can assure will happen just, just don’t close your eyes yet okay.” He pleads for you to stay awake, screaming for help through the AI, but no one is around.

Tears roll across your face as you focus on the faint memories of Bucky. His soft touch, the comfort he provided in the darkest of times. You listened to the ticking of the clock, maybe time will move on now, maybe he can be free.

Grabbing the device from your head, you scream in agony before dropping to the ground. You watch as the device is covered in blood and skin, glitching as you smile to yourself. You’re free from the control of someone else. Now, you can finally rest.

Running through the compound, Bucky screams your name. He doesn’t care who he wakes up, who yells back unless it’s you.

He bursts through the doors, seeing Tony nowhere in sight until he slows down to your holding cell. “No,” Bucky mutters to himself, seeing Tony knelt beside you, your hand outstretched in a pool of blood.

“Barnes, just listen,” Tony tries to reason, but he can see the cold glare in the soldier's eyes.

“Don’t, Tony.” Bucky snaps, and Tony rises to his feet, taking his phone out as he makes a call.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is in a small smile. Bucky glances down, seeing the tear in your skin you caused as your fingertips are coated in crimson. “It’s okay, doll.” He hushes to you as he pushes your hair out of your face, his hand resting on your cheek as he holds back tears. “We’re going to be okay, it’s going to work out like I promised you.” He stutters slightly, thinking back to the months spent in joint cells together.

“Hey, doll?” Bucky whispers as you lie curled up, shivering lightly against the bars. He shuffles closer, looking around to ensure no one else is awake to hear him. “Y/n, you’re okay.” He reaches out, resting his hand on your cheek as you whimper in your sleep.

With a startle, you wake up. You stare with wide eyes to Bucky until you realise it’s him. You rest your hand over his, a soft comforting touch as you hum. “I’m okay.” You repeat back to him, seeing a slight smile ghost his lips. “Are you okay?”

Bucky nods, pulling you closer through the bars. “As long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay.”

You nod to him as you lean closer, his lips kiss your temple as you rest against the bars. “I wish I could be in your arms, James.” You whisper to him, using his first name in times of desperation.

“Someday, Y/n.” Bucky tells you as he whispers into your ear. “Just you see, we’ll have a house in the country, three dogs and two kids.” He explains, telling you to close your eyes as you envision a future you’re clutching onto.

Humming in response, Bucky continues to tell you details about your future together, one he can only dream about. “And what would the kids be called?” You question with a small smile as you open your eyes, glancing up to him as his arm reaches through, resting on your leg.

“If we have a girl, she’ll have your Mothers name.” He tells you. “And a boy, I’d call him Steve.” He says with a smile, thinking back to the friend he lost whilst you contemplate the life before all of this, one you’ll never return to.

“I think that’s enough daydreaming for one night, Bucky.” You sniff lightly as you shuffle away to lie back down on the ground, pulling the clothing that covers you tighter around your body for comfort.

Bucky watches as you turn around, seeing bloodstains line your top as bruises worsen across your skin. “Just think about it, doll, okay?” Bucky watches you nod faintly before silence resumes in the cells, the dead of night becoming more lonely without you by his side.

“Come on doll, we’ve got a whole future together.” Bucky whimpers as he lifts you up carefully, resting your head in his hand as tears fall. “Remember the house we’re gonna get? The family we’ve never had. All to come baby just please, please open your eyes.” He pleads, seeing small droplets of blood hit his knee. “I’ve waited this long for you, and god you are are testin’ me.” He tries to joke, but he sighs heavily.

“Bucky,” Steve speaks softly as he stands beside Tony.

Turning his head, Steve can see how broken Bucky is as he holds you in his arms. He can see how long he’s waited for you, and how close he came to having you back. “She’s gone, Steve.” Bucky mutters, looking back at you. “After all this time, I’ve lost her.”

“Bucky, we, we’ve got to go.” Steve tells his friend as he edges closer toward him.

Shaking his head, Bucky holds onto your limp body tighter. “I can’t, I’m not leaving her here!” He yells, aggression rising through his veins.

Steve motions to Tony who sighs. “Barnes, we’re going to Wakanda.” He steps forward, and Bucky raises an eyebrow all whilst keeping a tight hold of you. “We think Shuri might be able to save her.”

Bucky looks down at you, seeing you drained of life in his arms. “You can bring her back?” He asks with a slither of hope lacing his voice as he looks to Tony with wide eyes like a child.

Tony nods, placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Only if we leave now.”

With a sigh, Bucky picks you up under his arms, carrying your body with him toward the Quinjet. As he leaves, Steve picks up the device from your head, the small chip and places it into his pocket knowing Shuri would want to take a look at it.

Wiping the blood onto his trousers, Steve follows after Bucky and Tony, knowing time is running out for you.

Bucky sits beside you in the Quinjet. He ignores the countless monitors you’re being attached to, the wires and tubes being inserted beneath your skin. This was an everyday occurrence for him, and once it was over he sought you out for comfort. You were his Nurse, the one to care like no other. Now he wishes he could do the same.

Placing his hand on top of yours, he holds it close, kissing your palm. Steve watches, a small smile on his lips as he hopes Shuri can do something, that the technology is advanced enough to save you for Bucky’s sake more than anyone else’s.

“They got it out of my head, I’m sure they’ll save her.” Bucky speaks up as Tony and Bruce pause what they’re doing.

Everyone shares a look, how the hell will they break it to Bucky if it doesn’t work. What if there’s no return this time, you’ve escaped death for decades. You said so yourself, you wanted it to end, but did you mean it knowing Bucky was still alive?

As they land, immediately T’Challa and Shuri stand waiting. Shuri nods to Steve and smiles to Bucky before motioning for a team to help escort you on the stretcher out of sight. Bucky steps forward, but Steve holds his arm out stopping him. “Steve, let me go.” Bucky demands.

“We can’t Buck.” Steve tells his friend. “It’s not safe until we know her situation.”

Bucky looks longingly as you’re taken out of sight once again. He steps back, seeing images of when he woke up to see you being thrown back into the cell or taken out.

“Please, I can’t.” You plead to them, glancing over and seeing Bucky fast asleep. “I’m too weak just please.” You beg as the doors open and two men wear wide smirks as they approach you, one holding a weapon to stun you if need be.

“Weakness is not valid.” They spit at you, making you wince as the other kicks your ribs. You hold back a yell as you shut your eyes as they lift you up. All you can do is wait for it to be over.

“Stop.” Bucky speaks up and you glance over your shoulder, seeing his metal arm tense as the plates rise. “What are you doing with her?”

The men look at each other before dropping you to the ground, Bucky’s gaze shifts to you. “She is to be tested.” One soldier tells him. “She has knowledge.” He taps Bucky’s head, laughing lightly before turning around.

But that’s something these soldiers weren’t taught. You should never turn your back on the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wraps his arm around the man's neck, choking the life out of him as you cough blood. The other guard forces you back into your cell as he runs for help. “Bucky, Bucky stop.” You cough and Bucky locks his eyes with yours. He can see the vulnerability in your gaze, the horror as he stands about to kill someone.

He lets go, the man drops down and Bucky walks close to you, his hands reach out through the bars. “Are you okay?” He asks, his hands resting on your cheeks as he scans your face for new cuts and bruises.

You’re panting lightly, but you nod. “I’ll be fine.” You reassure him. “I always will be.”

Standing with Steve, Bucky begins to pace around waiting to hear something. “Son of a bitch.” Bucky mutters under his breath, wishing he could’ve caused Rick more pain before killing him. “All this time, she’s been alive? All this time she’s become the soldier I was meant to be?” Bucky shakes his head, still struggling to believe it all.

Steve sits down, remaining quiet as he takes out the chip from his pocket. “Buck,” Steve interrupts Bucky’s deep thoughts. “this is what was in her head.” Steve holds the chip up to Bucky who stares at the small device in Steve’s palm.

Picking it up carefully, Bucky looks at it. “I, I remember this.” He mutters. “HYDRA, they, they put devices in their test subjects. After I came, they started doin’ it. Keep them all in line at all times.” He scoffs as he holds it up to the light, seeing the HYDRA symbol etched into the chip.

“We’re going to get Tony to check it out, see what’s on it.” Steve explains to Bucky as he takes the chip back. “Maybe it has her memories on it?” Steve suggests hopefully, but Bucky lowers his head and sits beside his friend.

“I don’t think I can handle losing her again, Steve.” Bucky admits the truth as he releases a drawn-out sigh. “When I lost her in there, I thought that was it. I was gone, nothing left to carry on for. But finding out she was alive? Steve that was like nothing I’ve ever known.” Steve listens, watching as the blue in Bucky’s eyes glows.

Shuri walks out and the two men stand up. “I’ve got good news and bad news.” She states, removing a glove from her hand. “She’s stable and alive.” Bucky lets out a sigh of relief, turning to Steve who gives him a short nod. “However, we’re not sure which version of her is still there.”

“What’d you mean?” Bucky asks, stepping forward.

Motioning for them to follow after her, Shuri leads the two men into a room with a large screen. “See this?” She points to a display of a brain with two colours through it, one blue, one black. “The blue is Y/n, the black is the Swan. And as you can see, they’re crossed over.”

“They’re not meant to be.” Bucky states and Shuri nods to him. “If they’re crossed there a dominant side to be in charge.”

“I’m trying to remove the crossovers from her, but it’ll take time. Even then, I’m not sure if she’ll remember anything.” The sentence falls onto Bucky as he lowers his eyes. After everything, you’ll potentially remember nothing. You won’t know him, you won’t understand what’s happening. All you’ll be is a shell.

Maybe this is how Rick planned it. Even if you’re alive, you won’t know who Bucky is, and that will kill him inside.

taglist (thank you for the endless support on this series) - if your username has a cross through it means it wouldn’t tag!

@callie-bear15 @vgirl10123 @markusstraya @krystallynx @toxic-pineapple @not-jarred-padaleki@tearsforhan@worldofchoices@hungrymango @puppetofyourdreams @alisa-m-a @musingsofafangirlblog@alecswcrlock@mywinterwolf@galacticstxrdust@jamesvaldezzzz @letmereid @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @bluediamondsevie@i-just-wanna-run-hell@ispepeagain @sebastianstan-news @bananzaa @willowbowie @smileyishere92

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kassies-take · 4 years

Text

The Beginning Of The End

Request by @xiaolinweretiger : This comes in story, headcanon, or "If You" form: "Being from the Earth of Brandon Ruth's Superman and ending up on the Earth of Supergirl/with the Legends, where you join them. But you're also dealing with knowing about the upcoming Crisis."

A/n: The crisis is coming! Are you all ready? I’m not. I added my own twist to this request.

Warning: ...

Word Count: 2121

You and most of the League were in the watchtower. A wave of red absorbed and destroyed everything in its path, it was heading closer and closer to Earth. You and the League tried coming up with a plan but so far no use.

The Sector House Alpha, home to the Green Lantern Corps, went offline 10 months ago. Starhaven, Colu, Naltor, and Argo City followed after. Considering that they were light years away this wave was going fast.

When the wave hit you were with Clark in Metropolis to help him with Darkseid when he solar flared. Darkseid in search for his “Anti-Life Equation” has found it but was vaporized 30 city blocks away. You opened a portal to another dimension. Clark watched in horror as his city began to vaporize, they had screamed for Superman to save them but he couldn’t save everyone.

Superman started to gesture and cry for people around him to enter the portal.

“Watchtower to citizens of Earth. We can’t save the Earth but we will do everything to save you.”

“Glitch to Watchtower. I’m trying to make portals around the world. Get to your respective cities and get citizens there!”

As the member of the Justice League you made an oath to put your life in danger to save Earth. J’onn had wisely advised not to create a portal for the whole Earth, but with not many options left you had to. Your hands shook violently, blood percolated from you nose and you could taste the iron from it as you pushed further into your powers.

“Hope is the light that will lift us out of darkness!” Superman said to remind himself.

He closed his eyes and like a beacon of hope he felt his strength regain. A gust of wind flew past you. Clark sped around the remaining Earth and helped people get to portals.

You were losing energy and fast you could feel some portals dying and evaporating, taking your power with it. You pushed past your limits and collapsed onto the floor, all the portals you had started to disappear.

Clark flew back to your location before taking an inter dimensional extrapolator from his suit and portals himself and you to another planet.

“Put the girl down! Put your hands above your head!” Agents surrounded you and Clark.

He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt but your were a lot more vulnerable than you ever were having just solar flared, at least your version of it

“I mean no harm. My Earth has been destroyed, we were saving the Earth with portals, (Y/n)’s portals when she collapsed.”

“Alex! I heard the alarm is everything okay?” Kara flew in from the D.E.O balcony and spotted Clark! “Ray!”

“Kara! You’re alive!” He stood up and hugged the Girl of Steel.

“Yeah, I’m alive. And you’re Superman!”

“Oh well actually I’ve been Superman for quite a while. Does your Superman go by Ray? I’m Clark.

“Uh well our Superman is off world at the moment, but I have a friend named Ray and he looks just like you.”

Alex coughed to bring back the two super’s attention.

“Right, this is my sister Alex.

“Nice to meet you. This is...”

“(Y/n)!” Kara kneeled beside you. “She’s from the planet Ieilen (ieilen). Their planet shifts so much that it’s citizens developed powers to make sure they stay on their planet. And when she’s off her world, her Ieilen body structure glitches out making it hard for her to stay in one place. She was my best friend when I would visit her planet.

“So how is she here now?” Alex asked.

“She’s here because of you, well a version of you. You made her a chip to help stabilize her when she ended up on my Earth. She was able to concentrate her powers to teleport objects, people and herself and create portals for inter dimensional travels.”

“What happened for her to be like this?” Kara asked from concern.

“There was this wave of red the vaporized our whole universe. She was able portal some people into a different dimension. We don’t know who made it and who didn’t. She collapsed, solar flared, all the portals disappeared and I brought her here with the device Cisco gave me.

The D.E.O was packed with heroes from Earth-one from team flash, present team arrow, future team arrow, the bats, and the legends. Oliver and Barry were giving information on the incoming crisis. You were in the MedBay when you started to glitch.

“Director Danvers, we have a code blue.” Alex immediately ran into the MedBay.

“Supergirl don’t let anyone in!”

“What’s a code blue,” Mick grumbled while Zari smacked him.

Kara grabbed Clark’s arm to prevent him from entering the MedBay

“I have to see if she’s okay.”

“I can’t let you cuz. She’s in good hands with Alex. If she says not to let anyone in, you don’t get to go in. You are more than welcome to fight me.”

“Kar! Get Caitlin! Lena too!

Team flashed look at Frost before she rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll get Caity.” Her silver hair dissolved into brunette as her blue lips reverted back to its pinkish color.

Caitlyn ran up the stairs from the control center to the MedBay as Lena exited Alex’s lab. Lena froze in the entrance of the MedBay as a pinkish-purple portal like thing flickered towards an unknown place before it disappeared.

“She’s in respiratory distress and her temperature is spiking. Her heart rate is faster than normal.”

You began to convulse and a whole commotion was heard from the D.E.O as a pinkish-purple portal opened on a highway with a car skidding towards the portal.

“Barry! A little help here!” Cisco called as he braced himself against the control panel.

Barry does the family out of the car as Nate steeled up and both Supers stood in front of the portal. Before the car could slide through, the portal closed as Frost lowered your temperature. The back end of the car hit Kara and Clark as it stopped in place.

“What the heck was that?” Connor asked as he stared at the backend of the car.

“My guess, our little friend upstairs is the cause.” Kate Kane pointed.

The same portal opened twice before portals emerged in its wake, throughout the whole D.E.O. Agents and heroes alike took cover as objects flew through portals and energy zapped in between them. You continued to glitch, tremor and convulse before Lena mentioned you potassium levels and Alex ran to get the injection, that subdued you.Slowly but surely the portals began to disappear as the D.E.O began to quiet down.

“Dang, that girl can give Sara a run for her money.” Ava said as she dusted off her pants suit.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sara got defensive.

“You destroy everything you touch.”

“I do not,” Sara balanced herself on an office chair and it broke apart. “To be fair most of the stuff I break, is you landing on furniture.” Sara argued as Ava blushed.

“Sara,” Ava said through gritted teeth. “I meant any mission you and the Legends go on, end up in a disaster. Like this,” Ava gestures around the D.E.O.

“I’m glad I’m not them,” Kate smiled.

“You went back to Gotham for a woman who is married.” Luke commented.

“Luke!”

“Does this happen every year?” Mia asked her father.

“Yeah, around every December.” Kara smiled.

“Immortal tyrants, aliens, Nazis, a change in reality. You would think you would get used to it by now.” Diggle crosses his arms

“Yes but this crisis is the worst of the worst. The multiverse will crumble, all life will cease to exist.” Oliver said. “Laurel lost her Earth, Clark and Glitch lost theirs.”

“Her name is (Y/n),” Clark interrupted.

“The point is that these are the only Earth’s we know to have disappeared. More could’ve disappeared and as each second passes another Earth can be gone.” Oliver continued.

“How do we fight something that can wipe us all out?” Nia asked.

“It’s not like we can punch our way through the antimatter,” William agreed.

“We can’t but if we can defeat the man behind it, the Anti-Monitor” Barry started.

“Then we can defeat this crisis.” Kara finished.

“Anyone good with a computer, find a way how to track this Anti-Monitor,” Alex said from the stairs.

“Everyone else, suit up and work with people you don’t normally fight with to know their skills and how your abilities can improve each others” Oliver commanded.

“Alright team! Let’s save the multiverse!” Sara clapped as the heroes began to disperse into locker rooms and training rooms.

The whole day was spent training, and surprisingly you were paired with Sara, Nia and Conner when you woke up. Team Genius were able to track bits and pieces of the Anti-Monitor. And now Barry, Oliver, Sara, Kara and Kate were coming up with a plan, a plan that wouldn’t necessarily be a win, but was a plan that could get them answers.

No matter how much you had trained you were not ready to face this enemy. Your breathing stiffened, there was obvious tension in your shoulders, and if that was no indication the scowl on your face did.

The plan was already in place, left and right heroes were ready for battle. You took the perfect opportunity to escape the room, which didn’t do unnoticed by Clark.

“(Y/n)?” Clark had followed you.

“Clark,” your voice fell to a whisper of regret. “I can’t go out there again.”

“Your powers aren’t back?”

“They’re fine. I can’t go out there knowing what I know. I ...” you paused to retain your composure. “I couldn’t save our Earth, how can I save the multiverse?”

Clark knew what to say, but he knew you needed a new voice to hear. You hadn’t even knew he left until two female voices entered the room.

“Okay I heard someone was having performance issues!” Sara clapped.

“That’s how you’re going to start that?” Kara asked with her hands on her hips.

“I run a ship full of children. I know what I’m doing.”

Kara rolled her eyes before she wrapped her arms around you. The moment she did the tears began and didn’t stop. You remembered the way your Kara had wrapped her arms around you, all the memories you shared. Unlike the rest of the League you pulled away and isolated yourself when the person you loved had sacrificed herself to save the world, only to have it fall in your hands. Now having scene her again, you wished it could go back to how things were before. But they wouldn’t because this was not your Earth, nor was it your Kara.

~Time Skip cause I can’t write the Crisis Part~

The multiverse was saved. Oliver, Barry and Clark were gone. Many had followed and life would never be the same again. Vanished Earths would not be repaired and you didn’t have a home. You were watching the city when Sara approached you again.

“Hey, there’s an extra room on the ship if you want to join.”

“I wouldn’t want to-“

“I insist. I could use someone like you on the ship.” Sara saw you hesitate and knew you were dealing with a loss greater than hers. “You’re not letting them down, you’re continuing their legacy. Your Earth, your team, your family, your friends and your Kara live inside you. You keep their legacy going. And we would too, you’re a legend now.” Sara smirked. “We’re making our final goodbyes. We will meet you back on the ship.”

You said your short goodbyes with Kara being the last one.

“On your Earth we were something more than friends right?”

You smiled and nodded.

“That’s why you were willing to lay down your life for me. What happened?” Kara asked.

“She is a hero.”

“And now you’re joining the Legends.”

“I have you to thank.” A comfortable silence came to the both of you before you built up the courage to ask. “Kara, I know it’s not the same but can I kiss you?”

The two of you shared a slow kiss, you didn’t want to pull away, it felt as if the moment you would you would be different. When you did pull away your forehead lingered on hers.

“Ask Lena out, you never know when it’s gonna end.”

“Goodbye Kara.”

You entered the Waverider with Sara smirking at you.

“What?”

“You are a Legend after all.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because every good Legend ends with a kiss.”

#legends #legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow x reader #avalance #supergirl #supergirl imagines #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #kara danvers x reader #supercorp #the flash #flash #arrow #team arrow #future team arrow #arrowverse #crisis on infinite earths #brandon routh superman

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jaymber · 5 years

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Dismay Phase 1: Observation

I'm stuck in a train for three hours, so I decided to put together all the notes from this first week of Dismay. This is our notes as a community btw, not only mine, meaning I will update this post if I missed anything. Be free to add theories, notes, analysis,...

May 18 - May 20

These three days don't have to count as Dismay. These are the first days the Discord Server was created, and open to everyone. We discover the server, its many chatrooms. We get familiarized with its system, the mods, and the community. Four waves happen, without much happening, but on the theorists' den, questions are already being asked. By the end of this week, theories have already been made.

Notes:

Anti's name shouldn't be pronounced in there, at any time

Assume the ones in power are watching you, always

This is the main platform for the ARG (augmented reality game) Seán and the mods have planned for us

Theories:

This is Anti's server. We fell for his trap and have now become his puppets unknowningly

Anti took over the server. He wasn't supposed to be here but found his way in somehow

The mods are puppets guided by Anti

The mods are a protection between us and Anti. When they're gone, he can take over

May 21

The first part of Observation is uploaded. We quickly see that something is wrong. The glitches are back. They grow in intensity until Jack disappears. We have been warned another Egopocalypse has come.

Theories:

Bring her

Anti kidnapped Stacy

Anti kidnapped one of Chase's or Schneep's daughter

Pronouns aren't important. This is about Chase/all the egos

Outro

The symbols at the end hides a message [DEAD END]

Someone took Jack's chair

Someone took Jack away to protect him

Marvin used his magic to make him disappear

This is just an Easter egg to reveal to us what's the JCU will be about

Later that day or night, something happened on the Discord Server. The egos appeared as bots on a chatroom with a cryptic name which was translated to WATCHING. BoobyDoopy is the first to react, followed by all the egos.

Notes:

The bots were controlled manually. Seán couldn't type this fast, the mods helped

Chase can't see

All the egos know something's wrong, but Chase

Only Chase and Schneep talk to each other

Schneep asks what happened, not what's happening

JJ still can't talk

Theories:

Marvin is the one to delete the chatroom

Chase woke up Jack, deleting the chatroom

Chase thought BoopyDoopy was Jack

Schneep stopped Chase from waking Jack

Schneep knows something no one else does

JBM has disappeared for the last year to hide from us and Anti

The chat is vocal, that's why JJ can't communicate

Someone is holding JJ's words back

BoopyDoopy is Anti, asking the mods (puppets) to do something

BoopyDoppy's Jack, he genuinely can't see what's going on

Chase can't see because of the blood in his eyes

All the egos are in the same room but Chase and Schneep

The egos represent the wise monkeys:

See no Evil = Chase (can't see)

Speak no Evil = Jameson Jackson (can't talk)

Hear no Evil = Marvin (most blue-eyed white cats are deaf)

Do no Evil = Jackieboy Man (superhero)

"Smell" no Evil = Schneep (can't tell evil from good)

Evil = Anti

May 22

This day is the beginning of the two videos per day. First FNAF VR, then Observation part 2. In the first, a minor glitch and a number: 101610, a hint quite handed to us.

Theories:

This is a hint to Anti's first appearance (Oct. 10, 2016)

Time is so broken that Jack can’t tell the difference between days, months and years (10/16/10, not 10/10/16)

With the color alphabet and rearranged, it spells CHASE

Seán's colorblind and with the only green letter being 6, this is part of a binary code (10110) [DEAD END]

This is too obvious to be a clue, just some fanservice or Anti making sure we'll watched and speak of him

In Observation, Jack comes back after disappearing with a glitch. The outro is him building up tension until a shadow appears.

Notes:

The shadow is reminiscent of Anti's appearance in Dark Silence

The siren is heard

Jack acts as if the outro of part 1 didn't happen

Theories:

Anti took Jack's place

Another ego took Jack's place, angering Anti

Yet another glimpse at what the JCU will look like

Observation takes place during or after Dark Silence or Exiles

May 23

The first video of the day didn't have much to theorize. The ending gave a little Quit the Game to Win vibe, but Seán could've also just wanted to thank us.

The next part of Observation, however, is much more interesting. All happened during the outro. First, we can hear Jack says that "it's all coming together". Then, we can see Jack glitch, get pixelated and get divided or cloned, telling us “Time is Broken”. Finally, a robotic voice tells us they’re "here". In the tags, we can find "keep watching".

Notes:

His eyes turn brown during some frames

Jack has his eyes closed and under a red light during others

Both Jacks merge into one

Theories:

Anti and Jack are becoming one

There are multiple timelines, we're not always watching the same Jack

The eyes means JJ has taken over

Multiple egos run the channel now, not just Chase

The egos are Jack divided in multiple timelines

The break of time is affecting Jack and/or Anti

May 24

So many things happened that day. First, the fifth Discord wave started, adding 800 people to the server. Then, a second video of FNAF was uploaded, the outro consisted of a glitched Jack, emiting a long groan.

Notes:

The sound resembles the one in Exiles, only longer

These are new glitches, not the style we've been used to

Jack's skin is paler than usual

We can't tell the color of his eyes

Jack is partly divided during some frames

Theories:

Jack is waking up, Anti can't control him anymore

Jack is dying, Anti is slowly forced out of his body

Jack is dying, Anti hopes we'll save him so he can keep using him

Jack's braindead

The sound is Jack trying to talk through his slit throat

Schneep and/or Marvin have trapped Anti within Jack's body to either protect the egos or save Jack from dying. Anti's escaping

The egos are fighting to control Jack. Without an ego in control, Jack cannot move

Then comes the second upload and what happened during the video on Discord. Let's talk about the video first, then the server.

A glitched happened when Emma talked about the place being "compressed". A green glitch, something we're used to. In the outro, we saw Jack taking about his theories for the game before glitching and restarting the game. The last seconds are the first seconds of Observation - Part 1. There's a loop.

Notes:

The first frame of Observation - Part 1 can be while Jack’s still glitching

Jack's eyes are brown during the glitching

The last seconds glitch as well, the first seconds of Observation part 1 don't.

Theories:

Anti's playing the game. He's stuck in a loop, hence why he hates circles

The egos are all stuck in a loop

Someone is forcing Jack into the loop

We're in Jack's head, who can only remember so much before his memories loop

On Discord, when we were all watching the video, something happened. Jack's pfp changed, then turned into a gif. His role got zalgoed. Then, all the pfp of the mods changed, turned black, before all their names simply read ???. They sent cryptic messages on the panic chatroom, sending emotes and asking us if we were happy. Then, they all disappeared, only remained the community and a glitched BoopyDoopy. It lasted an hour, before all came back to normal but for Seán's pfp which had changed. The mods don't remember anything happening.

Notes:

Mod Lauralie was the last to glitched, the last to reappear as well;

Some people might have glitched as well. This isn't part of the ARG. The mods have asked to refrain from copying their actions in the future.

Theories:

The emotes were a code [DEAD END]

Each mod is an ego. Lauralie is Chase

BoopyDoopy is Anti. The mods are Anti's puppets

Anti took over and "kidnapped" the mods

The mods are protecting us from Anti

The mods became one, they merged together and could've merged with BoopyDoopy as well

May 25

Today. There's a stream coming up. We'd better keep watching.

More theories:

The titles of the Observation playlist is a conversation between the egos

Something is incredibly wrong here... (Marvin)

There’s someone else here! (JBM)

No, it’s not possible... (Schneep)

There’s no going back now! (anyone)

The Discord shenanigans don't mean much yet, they're a test to see our reaction and act accordingly later. Same goes for this entire week

Tell me if I missed anything ;)

#jacksepticeye #long post #theory #observation #dismay

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cookies-hetaoni · 7 years

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This is a rant but, like, you know. It would be nice if you read, if, like. You have patience and time? idk lmao

(adm: Hey guys!! Some things are kind of getting out of control, and honestly I don’t even know where to start, but...! I’m putting this under a cut because it’s so long lmao [I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE]

First thing’s first: this blog was originally created to keep you updated on the progress of the making of my own version of HetaOni [holy cow, that’s a lot of “of”s]. It was released on December 26th, 2016. So, since then, all I’ve been doing is answering asks.

First the asks were about the game, glitches and all that. When people started to praise my art saying they liked how I drew a certain character, I drew them said character as a thank you for the compliment. And somehow, my art has become the main attention of this blog.

It makes me extremely happy that everyone enjoys my art so much, and even more happy when people remember I spent so much time working on the game [lmao], but, guys. Listen. I do not mind getting requests at all, but please understand that I am busy, I have a life and I when I have free time, I want to focus on working on HetaOni and its sequel.

People who have been following me since the beginning might remember I used to say that the reason I was rushing so much to finish and release the game was because I knew that this year I wouldn’t have nearly as enough time as I had last year. And this is exactly what’s happening. I made another post the other day talking about what I was working on regarding the game and the sequel, but now I’m going to tell you a bit of my personal life. Which is not much, to be quite honest.

I am a 21 year old student attending to a Graphic Design course in university, which is set to end in December 2018. It’s a really quick course, so I have to respond just as quickly. Every week I have a lot of work to do for it, now even more so since my class chose me as the class rep [I had absolutely no say in it tbh lmao but that’s okay]. So yes, you get the picture. Picture a Cookie running back and forth, carrying things around while helping my classmates.

Now, because I have depression and other mental health issues, I have to go to both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. I have to go to the psychologist every week, and to the psychiatrist once every month to get meds prescriptions. Imagine a Cookie, running back and forth carrying things around, helping my classmates and having to take meds and go to appointments to try to live life a little bit more normally.

Not only do I have these problems, but things have been going on in my family that have been making me feel even worse. I swear to all that’s looked upon as Holy in this world that I have NEVER been more stressed in my entire life. Never, ever. I’m currently experiencing overwhelming stress while having to deal with uni, health care and personal problems.

To top it off, the country I live in, especially the city I live in, is extremely dangerous. Just so you have an idea, last year my mom’s car and all of my sister’s and her documents/money/credit cards were stolen right in front of my house, while she was getting her car out of the garage. Last week, as I was coming home from uni, there were cops everywhere in my street and a bunch of people gathered together. We heard there was shooting while theives tried to steal someone else’s car. My neighbor’s dog has been killed recently when theives attempted to get inside their house. My neighbor was killed two years ago when he was painting his gate.

So now, imagine Cookie, running back and forth carrying things, having to help my classmates, while having to deal with uni, health care, personal problems and the risk of being killed/assaulted at any time, any day, anywhere. Not really fun, huh?

Well, let’s all be honest. All of this isn’t really a big deal. No, really, it isn’t. Literally everyone have their own problems to deal with, and just because I’m exposing my own doesn’t make it any more serious than anyone else’s problems. In all honesty, even with all of this going on I am still extremely grateful for having a house, clean water, access to education and health care, a family and being someone competent enough that people can rely on. All of us have it hard, and it’s only natural. If things were easy, we wouldn’t be able to experience emotions to its fullest, amiright?

The same way my problems aren’t more important than anyone else’s, that doesn’t make it any less heavy either. Everyone’s said this before, everyone says this constantly and in 80 years, people will continue to say: Life is hard. We are only one, yet the world demands we work as if we were one hundred. But we are not.

Why am I telling you all of this? I could’ve just summed it up and said I was busy, right? Well, I did make a post telling you I was busy before, but people still seemed not to care much. Which is totally fine, I guess. It’s not like it’s anyone’s obligation to care for other’s lives, anyway. Especially since a blog like mine is supposed to create entertaining content. If I offer you something you like to see then you’ll obviously want to see more, because entertainment is most definitely a thousand times better than having to deal with problems.

I am not writing this to complain about the asks I get, or that I want you guys to stop sending me asks or anything of the sort. I am just trying to explain that I do not have time to answer you immediately. That’s all.

I don’t delete any of the asks I get [unless it’s people sending me useless criticism - aka bitching at me for nothing], so it’s not like I forgot about you. So you don’t need to send me the same asks over and over again- this has happened multiple times, probably with different people. I get it, you want your request, I will do it but I just don’t have as much free time as I wish I had.

As I said in the beginning of this post, I created this blog to focus on HetaOni and on its sequel, so that’s what I’m trying to do. If I spend all of my time answering asks, I won’t be able to work on the game and I’ll have to deal with solving glitches for everyone and not getting any work done. And besides all of this I have to do, I also need to work on commissions.

I very much probably made it obvious that I do not have money. I have to gather every single penny I have to be able to pay for my school. If I couldn’t pay it myself, my mom would surely help me. The thing is, I don’t want her to, because I know she doesn’t have money either. All of it goes to pay for the house itself, its expenses, her car, food, bills, and my sister’s uni. She already has her hands full, so I’m trying my best to keep myself standing still. My friends know already that I love my mom unconditionally. She’s everything to me, I would give my life for her in the blink of an eye. I love her a billion more times than I could ever wish to love myself. She is trying very hard to keep everything under control. I’m not going to go much farther on this subject because it would get too personal, and it’s not really necessary for me to share this much information. All you need to know is I am trying my best to earn money so I can pay for school myself and give my mom one less problem to worry about. And earning money is NOT easy.

I don’t have a job. I couldn’t find one because of my mental health issues. Now I am a bit better than before so i started job-hunting again, but with no luck until now. All I can do is rely on commissions, the Patreon account I created just recently and on the donation button I added in the page, though I don’t really expect anyone to actually donate to be completely honest. It’s literally all I can do to earn money, besides selling some of my things.

Making art takes a lot of time. Requests usually take me at least 2-3 hours each. I enjoy drawing requests very much so, I just love drawing with all my heart and whenever I get positive feedback from you guys, I feel like everything is worth it. As much as I love this feeling and wish to hold on to just this, I can’t pay for my university with emotions. More than I love drawing, I love my mom. And if it’s to make the weight she carries even a little bit lighter, I will do whatever it takes to keep steady on my feet by myself, until someday I can earn enough to take care of all of her financial problems and give her the proper life she deserves to live.

I’m not begging you for money. You do not have the obligation to give me financial support, especially because I know a lot of my followers are underage, that art is often not appreciated enough to be seen as something worth investing on and that money is just something VERY hard to attain. Not everyone can afford commissions, being a patron or donating. It’s just natural. That’s why I like to draw requests. I myself am someone that would love to offer financial support to a lot of my favorite artists, but I can’t. Even so, I have to talk about it everytime because I just don’t have another choice.

I am also not writing all of this to make you feel sorry for me, or to create drama or whatever. I am just being completely honest with you, and the length of this post just goes to show how absolutely stressed I have been trying to keep my life in order.

The only reason I am writing all of this is asking you guys to be patient. I WILL answer your asks, but please, just be patient. I’m trying my best to always get as much done as I can whenever I have free time, but I only have two hands. Art isn’t just magically created. It takes time, effort and lots of love for me to come up with answers for you. A lot of you already told me to take my time, not to worry about it and not to stress myself, but it’s kind of impossible not to. To each ask I answer, I get 3. I can never clear my inbox. When I tried closing it, even though I made a post about it, everyone came talking to me personally saying they couldn’t send me asks. I’m not the type of person who forgets about things easily. You could’ve asked me for something 10 years ago and I would still remember about it today- because you asked something for me, and I have 100% intention of doing it. I just need time and inspiration.

So please understand if I take long to answer your requests, or if I turn down a request because it would normally be considered a commission. I’m trying my best. I keep repeating that over and over again, but it’s not something I say just out of habit- I really am trying my best.

I appreciate your asks. I appreciate your support. I appreciate you taking your time to write something for me. Recreating this game and creating this blog was honestly the best idea I could’ve ever had. Interacting with you and creating art that causes positive emotions on both of us is what gives my life meaning. I am holding onto this fandom as if it were my life, because it gives me joy and the feeling I actually matter to someone, that I do things that some people care about and that’s what’s helping me get through the hard times. I love this game, I love this fandom, I love this blog and I love you. All I want from you is patience and understanding. If you want to do something for me, just show you care. Reblogging my art and getting other people to see it is a great way to do that. I just want to get someone to smile with my art and hope to make their day a little bit better. Life sucks for everyone, but we’re all in this together.

But jesus this was a HUGE rant lmfao I am so sorry for all of this. I just needed to write all of this down. If you actually read it until the end, thank you so, so much for your time. I really appreciate it, and hope you have a great week!!!)

#update #adm: i'm sorry lol

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flauntpage · 6 years

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NBA Trade Value Rankings!

If the Houston Rockets suddenly let it be known that James Harden was available for a trade, how much could they get for him? More or less than the Milwaukee Bucks could get for Giannis Antetokounmpo? What about a theoretical proposition to trade the two superstars for each other: Would the Bucks or Rockets hang up first?

This sort of hypothetical thought exercise is forever the most enjoyable and contentious way to draw someone into an entertaining conversation about the NBA. It's responsible for a string of some of the more digestible and refreshing NBA columns you'll read, and in a league that’s increasingly influenced by the collective bargaining agreement, it doubles as a useful way to look at where the sport is along with where it may be going.

Present-day skill and net impact are key components when ranking players based on their trade value, along with contract length/worth, age, injury history, and potential. (Kawhi Leonard and Jimmy Butler are top-12 players who’re easily better than several names listed below, but neither cracked the list because trading for just about anyone on the final year of his contract is too risky.)

In today’s NBA, one of the most valuable and increasingly rare commodities is certainty. Having someone under your control who you know is good can matter more than a superior talent who can either bolt or subsequently demand a massive contract sooner than later. Risk also applies to players who have health-related question marks or are teetering near the edge of a statistical fall off.

I’m sure everyone who reads this will 100-percent agree with everything that I write because that’s how the internet usually works, but before you do I should note the obvious: there’s no scientific way to parse out which factors are more valuable than others. Think of it more as a subjective attempt to rank these players outside their current team-specific roles and responsibilities, while also projecting how much they outperform their contract. In some cases, what matters is the unknown—i.e. growth potential, development, and looming decline. It allows two people who know what they’re talking about to conduct a healthy debate about whether a decorated veteran at his peak is worth more than an up-and-comer who has no ceiling.

Without further ado, let's dive into my top 15.

(Apologies to: Paul George, Devin Booker, Russell Westbrook, Damian Lillard, Jamal Murray, Bradley Beal, Gordon Hayward, Kristaps Porzingis, Draymond Green, Rudy Gobert, Clint Capela, every incoming rookie, and half a dozen more who I definitely forgot.)

15. Kevin Durant

Let’s say you’re happily married to someone you love. They’re awesome. You’re more than ready to settle down, start a family, and set forth on a new, rewarding, priceless chapter with them by your side every step of the way. Joy! Then, one day, like an irresistible wrecking ball, Rihanna slips into your DMs and asks for your number. Do you pursue, step face first into an uncertain future, knowing there are strong odds you’ll be single in a few weeks? Or do you spurn the once-in-a-million-lifetimes chance some men would literally go to prison for, even knowing you’ll forever wonder what could’ve been had you answered her question? Decisions, decisions.

Durant is about to turn 30 as an expiring free agent who’s particularly unpredictable, but sometimes a player is too damn good for anything else to matter. He is not the mysteriously hampered Kawhi Leonard or emotionally enigmatic Jimmy Butler. This is a two-time Finals MVP who eviscerates opponents for fun—potentially one of the 15 greatest players who ever lived when it’s all said and done. Durant transcends rationale, and putting him in the top ten isn’t close to crazy. If an opportunity to harness that inconceivable, league-quaking talent presents itself, then throwing it all away just for a few months of pleasure may, in some cases, be totally worth it. Life is short. Shoot your shot. Dance like nobody's watching.

14. Jaylen Brown

13. Brandon Ingram

It's hard to separate these two wings as long-term projects, even though both have discernibly different playing styles. The rookie-to-sophomore season improvement made by Ingram was breathtaking. As he focused less on scoring from beyond the arc (not the most hopeful trend, but the guy turned 21 earlier this month so we’ll cut him some slack), Ingram upped his playmaking chops and his overall efficiency despite carrying a higher offensive burden. While his frail frame seemingly obfuscates how aggressive he’s willing to be, Ingram was elite at drawing fouls last year. He’ll be one of the league’s premier bucket-getters before too soon; having him on a rookie-scale deal for the next two years before he becomes a restricted free agent makes him a lock somewhere on this list.

Players like Brown, a 21-year-old two-way wing with limitless athleticism who shot 40.2 percent from beyond the arc and successfully squeezed his game into a title contender’s infrastructure, do not grow on trees. Instead of viewing him as a role player, it may be more intuitive to highlight the glimpses of All-Star potential Brown showed last year, during an impressive season in which Boston was miles better with him on the floor.

The ability to make teammates better has yet to be seen, but opportunities to showcase that side of his game have been few and far between; any attempt would be, thus far, accurately seen as an unwanted step outside his lane. In the long-term, do not doubt Brown’s capacity to learn and execute on the fly. There’s an attractive rawness to his game, one that hints at an inevitable rise to a higher tier. At his disposal is every physical instrument needed to shine in a league that values versatility, strength, speed, and relentless dynamism.

12. Victor Oladipo

Oladipo’s ascension at the age of 25, in the first season of a reasonably-priced $21 million-per-year contract, makes him that dude. The context can’t be ignored—he was traded to an organization that crafted its entire personality around his gifts—but a vast majority of what Oladipo accomplished last year can be attributed to his own drive. He was a first-time All-Star who made third-team All-NBA, won Most Improved Player, and cracked an All-Defensive team. (Oladipo nearly doubled his steals per 36 minutes.)

He’s a franchise player, and a testament to how fast status can shift in the NBA. Two years ago, Oladipo was Westbrook’s flailing sidekick. Last year, he was part of a trade that was widely viewed as lopsided in favor of the team that sent him away. Today, the Pacers wouldn’t even think about moving Oladipo for George or Westbrook. (Not that it means all that much, but neither player is on this list.)

11. Nikola Jokic

10. Joel Embiid

9. Karl-Anthony Towns

It is impossible to rank these three without feeling like you messed up. Each stands at least seven feet tall with preternatural gifts. Each has yet to celebrate his 25th birthday. Each has recently signed a five-year contract worth between $146-190 million.

Embiid is sandwiched between two players who’re held back by defensive deficiencies, while his own proven dominance on both ends makes a first-overall finish on next year’s list conceivable. It’s exhausting to bring up his various injuries, and how badly they marred the start of his career, but it’s understandable to want more than one season of top-shelf production before vaulting him any higher. Meanwhile, Towns has yet to miss a game and possesses a near-flawless offensive repertoire. His touch is 50/40/90 accurate, which is completely unfair inside his Adonis body.

Jokic is not cut like Towns, but pairs similar shooting numbers with fantastic rebounding acumen and some of the most comically avant-garde passes you will ever see. When compared to the other two, Towns nudges past by a hair because his contract lasts one season longer and there are no options. He’s two years younger than Embiid and one year younger than Jokic, with zero health concerns and, well, if he can figure out how to rotate from the weakside, the league won't have a more dominant player.

8. Donovan Mitchell

7. Ben Simmons

6. Jayson Tatum

It’s tempting to compare Tatum with Simmons. Both will eventually (if not already) be expected to escort a historic NBA franchise to the promise land for the foreseeable future. And it's reasonable to assume their biggest obstacle will be each other.

Tatum ranks one spot ahead for a few reasons: He’s almost two years younger, has one more year on his rookie-scale contract, outplayed Simmons in last year’s playoffs (including a series in which they were matched up head-to-head for several pivotal possessions), and only one of them dunked on LeBron.

Beyond a silly and fruitless head-to-head comparison, Tatum is shaping up to be a splendid bridge between the league’s old and new school, with the toolbox of a traditional scoring champion crossed with a threatening wingspan, insatiable work ethic, and effortless three-point shot. Tatum is fearless, hungry, and already comfortable with or without the ball in his hands, in the biggest moments on the most consequential stage.

Guarding him one-on-one is already not possible. He can create space from just about any spot on the court yet also understands the need to be selfless. The fact that he’s only 20 years old, still three years away from max-contract eligibility (upon which he’ll earn as a restricted free agent), means there’s only a tiny handful of players the Celtics would move him for; all are already established as perennial top-five guys.

None of this is to take away from Simmons, who has "best player in the universe" qualities and within a few years may be the best passer on Earth. Most teams don't have anyone who can even think about guarding him. He's a 6'10" lightning bolt. But even though his coach says he won't be defined by his jump shot, Simmons will be defined by his jump shot. It's a critical glitch in an otherwise perfect game. Tatum has no such flaw.

Mitchell ranks below Tatum because of his age (22) and below both because of his size. He’s already shown an ability to thrive as the lead ball-handler on a very good playoff team—and should see his efficiency bolstered by healthy Ricky Rubio and Dante Exum sharing more responsibilities next season—with vision and flair that can best be described with the word absurd. But he doesn’t have the defensive upside Simmons or Tatum share, two huge wings who will be able to defend four or five positions by the time they reach their prime.

That said, building an elite offense around Mitchell shouldn't be too hard. He's an ideal building block, with Dunk-Contest-winning athleticism and the same contract situation as Tatum. Scary.

5. Steph Curry

This is a little self-explanatory. Curry is still a mirage. He turns 31 this year, but has revolutionary ability that may pummel Father Time in ways we haven’t seen before. So much of his game is about finesse and expertise, panic-inducing movement that can’t really be game-planned to stop.

Curry is the NBA’s highest-paid player—deservedly so, being that this era will ultimately be defined by his three-point shot—but the value of having him under contract for the next four years, without a player option, may outweigh the $166.4 million he’s still due (especially under a salary cap that’s expected to reach $118 million by 2021).

Age combined with frequent health issues knock Curry down to five, even though, sentimental weight aside, it’s hard to imagine Golden State exchanging him for anybody in the world.

4. Anthony Davis

It’s reasonable to believe that Davis can be the world’s best player before he turns 26, and then hold onto that spot for (at least) half a decade. His peak is a hazy dunk-everything/block-everything-else nightmare that, when mixed with a legitimate three-point shot, perimeter skills, and consistent Defensive Player of the Year intangibles, may permanently position him above everyone else.

Why he’s not number one? Only two more seasons remain before the most anticipated free agency decision since Durant supplemented a dynasty in Northern California. (Semi-related: On his current contract, Davis will earn less money than Otto Porter.) He recently hired Rich Paul as his agent, too. That may not be a great sign for 29 teams.

3. Giannis Antetokounmpo

Giannis has stopped growing, but would you even blink if someone told you he still is? There are priceless advantages in his game, with a body that was designed to dominate. He’s almost exactly ten years younger than LeBron (23 freaking years old!) and under contract for the next three seasons, scheduled to make the same amount of money as Steven Adams.

I don’t think Giannis will be one of the three best players in the league next season, but a(nother) breakout is possible, if not likely. And even though he’ll be an unrestricted free agent in 2021, having Bird Rights for a player who’s still improving and will be worth every penny on his next deal assuages some worry from the situation. Unlike the two players ranked ahead of him, age-related decay is out of the question. He ranks below them because his jump shot is technically still a legitimate question mark, and it’s impossible to crown someone who’s yet to win a playoff series.

Then again, do the Bucks move him for anybody in the league? Probably not.

2. James Harden

In the first draft of this article I had Harden at number one. Coming off his first MVP season, he just turned 29 and is under contract for the next four seasons (with a $46.8 million player option in 2023). He’s one of the NBA’s best scorers, passers, and ball-handlers, with timeless strength and a skill-set that succinctly meshes with the league’s modern aesthetic.

His attack leans on traits that should age well through his current deal, and meaningful decline may not be visible for another few years. The dollars are massive, but, even with logic that applies to just about any team that has an MVP candidate in his prime, it’s so hard to imagine a scenario where the Rockets trade Harden before his pact expires. He doesn't have the defensive impact like Davis or Giannis, but his overall impact is powerful enough to lift a team to championship contention, so long as certain pieces are around to help out.

Will Harden be better than Giannis three years from now? Probably not. But it may not be so clear, and I'd like to think that not having to worry about Harden's free agency for an additional year matters, though it's clearly fluid at the top.

1. LeBron James

There’s only one LeBron. Even though he turns 34 in December, him finally locking into a contract that’s longer than one season makes him the most important and reliable foundational piece in basketball. Still!

His invincible armor will eventually chip away, but nobody knows when exactly that day will happen. If it’s four years from now instead of three, having the best player alive on your team until then virtually guarantees success, relevancy, and unparalleled attention. And even when James isn’t unanimously viewed as the best of the best, watching him navigate life as a second fiddle in search of more championship rings will be fascinating, especially if he's at a point in his career where he's willing to take a pay cut.

What he did during last year’s postseason was poised virtuosity, with the second-highest usage rate of his career, averaging an insane 34 points per game and competing one-on-five in a Finals that could’ve been more competitive had his epic 51-point, 8-rebound, 8-assist Game 1 ended with a questionable call going the other way, or George Hill making a free throw, or J.R. Smith knowing where he was. This man is rewriting the rules as he goes along, physics, history, and logic be damned.

There’s still no player in the league any team would keep off the table if the Lakers called with an offer. Which they would never do. Because we’re talking about LeBron.

NBA Trade Value Rankings! published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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