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s10127470 · 1 month

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The Evolution of the Ninja Turtles' Designs

As I'm sure many of you know by now, this year marks the 40th anniversary of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

What initially started off as an intended one-off parody of the dark and gritty comics of the early to the mid 1980s (particularly the works of Frank Miller like Ronin and especially Daredevil) would grow to become one of the most successful media franchises in history.

The one-off quickly became a full-on series, running for a total of 30 years from 1984 to 2014.

It also led to the creators of the Turtles, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, to start their own comic publishing company, Mirage.

And apart from that, this franchise has seen multiple of other comic runs from the likes of Image, Archie and IDW.

Four animated series (with a fifth one coming out this summer).

Ten feature-length films (7 being released in theaters, while 3 were released direct-to-DVD).

A live-action TV show that nobody likes to talk about....

And a boatload of video games, toys, food products, and just about any other kind of merchandising you can think of!

And it's honestly impressive just how consistently popular the TMNT brand has reminded over the four decades they've existed in pop culture.

Even more so is how much of a spotless track record they've had when it comes to the quality of their products.

Okay a mostly spotless track record....

But today I'm here to talk about one of the coolest things to notice when looking at this franchise. And that's the visual evolution of the Turtles.

I'm gonna be looking at the designs of the Turtles from the original Mirage comics and the animated outputs of the franchise to see just how much the Turtles have visually changed.

Starting this off we have the Turtles from the Mirage comics, the 1987 cartoon, the 2003 cartoon and the 2007 film.

The reason I decided to lump these four iterations together is because they all share something in common....

What that's you may ask?

Well, a while back, I watched a video by YouTuber Just Stop called "Death by Nicktoon", where he looked at the many Nicktoons that were unfairly snubbed and sent to the Nicktoons channel to die a slow and painful death.

And one of those Nicktoons was one of the next TMNT series I'll be talking about pretty shortly.

When talking about that series, Just Stop mentioned the Silhouette Test.

As I'm sure many of know by now, the Silhouette Test is major component when it comes to character designing.

Essentially the saying goes that you know a character has a good design if their silhouette is easily recognizable.

And Turtles do pass this test.....but only as a group.

Because individually, these versions would all fail that in an instant.

And that's the thing they all have in common.

Within the pieces of media each of these groups come from, all they look exactly the same.

Out of all of them, the Mirage Turtles have this issue the worst.

During the early years of the comics, the Turtles basically acted damn-near identical to each other.

And if you were trying to find another way to differentiate them from each other, I don't know what to tell you.

As I mentioned earlier, these Turtles look exactly the same and the fact that they were in black and white for a good chunk of the comics didn't help matters either.

But when they were in color, the Turtles were all depicted wearing red masks.

Really, the only way you could actually tell which Turtles is which is by their respective weapons.

Leonardo wields the dual katanas.

Raphael wields the twin sais.

Donatello wields the bō staff.

And Michelangelo wields the dual nunchucks.

But when the 87 cartoon rolled around, the crew behind that show knew the Turtles needed some retooling in order for a wider audiences to get into the brand.

Thus, they did two things that have become staples in the Turtles franchise since then.

They gave each of the Turtles their own distant personalities. Leonardo was the calm, brave and strategic leader, Donatello was the tinkering, inventing genius, Raphael was the cynical and wisecracking smartass with a slightly bad attitude, and Michelangelo was the fun-loving, Cowbunga-shouting goofball.

They gave each of the Turtles different colored masks. With the expect of Raphael (who was still rocking the red look), Leonardo got a blue mask, Donatello got a purple mask, and Michelangelo got a orange mask.

And although their visually more distinct when compared to the Mirage Turtles, they still suffer from the same problem where physically, they look exactly the same.

Plus the fact that a lot of promotion and merchandising for this show often depict the Turtles as having the same expressions didn’t help either.

However, there was another visual element added to the Turtles' designs.

They gave each of the turtles belts with buckles that had the initials of their respective names.

But if you had put these Turtles in black and white and took away their weapons and belts, you most likely wouldn't be able to tell who was who.

The same can be applied to the 2007 Turtles as well....minus the belts since they don't have those.

But in the case of the 2003 Turtles, this is where things get interesting....

These Turtles do share the same issues as the three other iterations listed above, being that they look exactly the same to each other, minus the colored bandanas and trademark weapons (which I'm still surprised they carried over from the 1987 cartoon given that Turtles co-creator Peter Laird, who was heavily involved in the 2003 cartoon, is kind of infamous for having a bit of a hate-boner towards that series).

However, there is another visual element to these Turtles that would help differentiate them from each other.

This would mark the very first time in the franchise's history where the Turtles were given different skin colors....or more appropriately, shades, as each of Turtles' skins were a different shade of green.

Leonardo was forest green.

Michelangelo was blue green.

Donatello was olive green.

And Raphael was emerald green.

But with that being said, if you put these Turtles in black and white just like the others iterations above and took away their respective weapons, it would be the same output as before.....

Or maybe not....

You see, for the last two seasons of the show: Fast Forward and Back to the Sewers, the entire cast received major redesigns, and this led to two notable changes with the Turtles.

Their eyes. In the first five seasons, the Turtles' eyes were depicted as being fully white when they had their masks on. And when they were off, their eyes were just simple black. But in these last two seasons, the Turtles' eyes were now colored and were made visible through the masks. The Turtles all had green eyes....except for Donatello, whose eyes were brown for some reason.

Their heights. In the first five seasons, the Turtles all stood at about the same height, that being 5'2. But in the last two seasons, they were each given different heights. Michelangelo was the shortest at 5'4, Leonardo was the second shortest at 5'5, Donatello was the second tallest at 5'6, and Raphael was the tallest at 5'7.

Next we come to the Turtles from the 2012 series, and this is where everything changed....

For the very first time in the franchise's history, the Turtles were each given unique and distinct looks from each other.

No longer did they look like the same character copy-pasted three times, each of Turtles actually looked different!

If you saw these guys in black and white and took away their weapons, you could definitely tell who was who!

Some of the visual elements of the previous cartoons were carried over such as the colored masks (which have becomes staples of the franchise since the 1987 cartoon), having their skin colors being a different shade of green, having colored eyes and standing at different heights.

But what really sets these versions apart from the others is the fact that each Turtle has a different physical build!

Leonardo is the most well-rounded when it comes to physical builds, he has fern green skin, cobalt blue eyes, and is the second tallest of the Turtles at 5'1.

Raphael is slightly more bulkier and has more defined muscles than the rest of his brothers, has dark green skin, emerald green eyes, a crack on the right side of his shell, and is the second shortest of the Turtles at 5'0.

Donatello has a lean and gangly-like build, brownish green skin, reddish brown eyes, has a gap in the middle of his teeth, and is the tallest of the Turtles at 5'6.

And Michaelangelo has a more stout and pudgy build, light green skin, baby blue eyes, freckles on his face, and is the shortest of the Turtles at 4'10.

Now come to the Turtles from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles....

Out of all the iterations of the Turtles before and since, these guys are by far the most visually distinct of them all!

It honestly feels like the crew looked at the designs of the 2012 Turtles and said, "Hey! Let's do what they did.....but even better!"

Marking yet another first for this franchise, this would mark the first time the Turtles were all different specific species of Turtles rather than being the same unspecified species for the umpteenth time.

And them being different species are greatly reflected in their designs.

Also, according to several artists on the show, each of the Turtles were designed around a shape, and the use of the shapes also reflected their respective personalities.

Raphael is an alligator snapping turtle, which is why is he's an absolute unit in this series, with a hulking and muscular build to match! This Raphael is the second biggest and tallest he's been in this franchise, standing at a whooping 6'0! And since he's an alligator snapping turtle, Raphael also has jagged and fractured points on his elbow, knees and shell. His choice of species reflect three major aspects of his character.....

His status as the brawler/muscle of the team.

In this iteration, HE'S the leader of the team.

He's the oldest of the Turtles. Oh yeah, marking yet another first for this franchise, this would mark the first time that the Turtles were all made different ages rather than being quadruplets like every other iteration. As previously mentioned, Raphael is eldest of his brothers at 15.

Raphael was designed around squares, to reflect his offensive and defensive fighting style.

His mask, in contrast to half of his brothers, is depicted as more of a bandana (or a possibly a durag). Plus it has the longest tails out of the group, reflecting his status as the oldest brother.

He also wears red bands on his elbows and his thighs, a red belt with his Turtle Emblem off to the right side, and his bandages on a few parts of his body and specifically around his ankles and hands, reflecting his prowess as a fighter and that he's the Turtle most dedicated to training.

Raphael also has bright green skin and a sharp tooth sticking out of the right side of his mouth.

Leonardo is a red-eared slider, which is why he has those markings all over his body and shell and the red markings over his eyes. His choice of species would also reflect his future status as the leader of the Turtles, since red-eared sliders are the most well-known species of turtles. He also has a lean and athletic build, reflecting his status as the team's resident speed fighter.

Leonardo was designed around triangles, to reflect his witty and sharp nature.

The marks on his body are also triangular as well.

Leonardo also has lime green skin and wears blueish grey fingerless gloves and toeless footwear, a blue belt with a strap that overs his right shoulder, a set of pouches, and he has his Turtle Emblem on the left, and is the second tallest turtle at 5'5 (the same height as his 2003 iteration).

Donatello is a Asian softshell, which plays a big part in his personality. Out of all the iterations of Donatello, this one is far more aggressive than most of his prior iterations, even the Mirage version! I mean bro, this Donatello is practically a psychopathic scientist. This is because Asian softshells are known for being incredibly aggressive and one of the few species of turtles that are carnivorous.

As for his physical build, it's quite similar to Leonardo, which is possibly because of the fact they're twins, both being 14 years old.

Though Donatello's is even more leaner and thinner than Leonardo's, giving him a build akin to a swimmer. That's because Asian softshells are known for being some of the couple of turtles that live on land that are semi-aquatic.

Another similarity Leonardo and Donatello share are their mask tail lengths.....well, sort of....

The length of Leonardo's mask tails is squarely in the middle, reflecting his status as the middle child.

Donatello's however are little harder to tell.....

At first glance they appear to be quite short. However, when looking closely, you can see that the tails look folded. So there's a strong chance that his mask tails are both as long as Leonardo's, since they're twins.

(Also, it's fashioned in a similar way to Raphael.)

Donatello was designed around rectangles, to reflect his more practical and blunt nature and his technological prowess.

He also has purple, rectangular markings on his body as well.

Donatello wears purple fingerless gloves and toeless footwear, a silver tech-gauntlet on his left wrist with a blue touchscreen, purple knee and elbow pads, a purple belt with matching pouches, and the Turtle emblem placed on the center. He also has jade green skin and stands at 5'3.

But the most notable aspect of Donatello's design is his mechanical shell.

This not only reflects his technological prowess, but also reflects an aspect of his species and his character.

Asian softshells are known for their shells being on the weaker side when compared to other turtles species. It's in the name. So Donatello wears one for obvious reasons.

It reflects his inferiority complex. Throughout this series, it's shown that he heavily relies on technology due to him feeling inferior to his brothers. That was sort of already from the beginning given that he majorly lacks the same natural protection they do, but thanks to them getting mystical powers, that was made even worse.

Michelangelo is a ornate box turtle, which is why he's the smallest and shortest of the Turtles, standing at 4'7 (being the shortest any of the Turtle iterations have ever been). Him being a box turtle also reflects a major part of his personality, that being his friendly and kind personality, as box turtles are known for being one of the friendliest and gentle species of turtles.

Michelangelo was designed around circles, to reflect his bouncy and kinetic nature.

He also has orange spots on his body and orange markings on his shell, which also serve as an another nod to his species.

Michelangelo also has blue green skin and wears orange wristbands and toeless footwear, and orange knee pads with red faces on them (a dead face on the right and a smiley face on the left), and a dark orange chest harness over his left shoulder with the Turtle emblem placed over his heart.

He also wears a pair of magenta and cyan stickers on his plastron (a triangle and a lightning bolt), to reflect his artistic nature.

Michelangelo also has the shortest mask tails of his brothers, to reflect his status as the youngest.

Finally we come to latest incarnation of the Turtles, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem....

Although they're not nearly as visually unique as their previous iteration, they still do a good job at making each of the other visual distinct from each other.

One thing to note is that the just like the 1987 Turtles, they all have initialed buckles again.

Leonardo has a well-rounded build like his 2012 iteration with French lime green skin, has shurikens on his belt, and is the second tallest of his brothers at 5'5

Donatello has a leaner build similar to his 2012 iteration with bitter lime green skin, wears glasses, headphones, and a fanny pack, carries a phone on his belt, and is the second shortest at 5'4.

Raphael is the biggest and bulkiest of his brothers with bright green skin, has his mask fashioned in a bandana-like style akin to Rise Raphael, has a pouch on his belt, and is the tallest at 5'7.

Michelangelo is the skinniest with sea green skin, wears braces and is the shortest at 5'1.

Well that's all for now folks!

The reason I wanted to do this (apart from wanting to do something for the Heroes in a Half-Shell's Big 40), was because although I've seen people talk about the looks of the various iterations of the Turtles before, but only in the sense of that specific iteration.

So I thought I would be interesting to instead do a timeline of their visual appearances to show just how much they've changed over the decades.

Anyway, I'm gonna go to bed.....

Peace.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt mirage #tmnt 1987 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2012 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt mutant mayhem #character design #design evolution #though in all honesty rise is peak character design for this franchise

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witchersmistress · 12 days

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Rescuing Ann

Hello my beautiful darlings! I've been slacking and letting Ann and August fight amongst themselves. But I got them to work together. I'm not 100% certain how I feel about this so don't be surprised if I

Trigger Warnings: blood, violence, assault, smart ass remarks, chasing, fighting, stolen movie quotes clearly labeled

Word count: 2K

August”s POV

The broken glass crunched under my feet as I walked back into the building. My phone started to vibrate, pulling it out of my pocket and I answered it quickly “ Yes?” “ Sir, we have confirmation that Julian is going to be attacked today, by a group of men called the De Santis brothers. My blood ran cold. Charles, Brandon and Levi. They were absolutely ruthless men, who played twisted games in order to compete with their father.

“Sir, are you still there?” my second in command, Jace asked me. Releasing the breath I was holding “ Yes I'm still here, get a team ready, I'm going after her.” disconnecting from the call, I left the party and climbed into the black sedan that was waiting for me. Shooting a text off to an old number that I prayed was still active, hoping I wasn't too late to save her.

Ann’s pov

His chilling threat still clung to my skin, “You will pay for making me look stupid” he was on his third glass of whiskey as the driver pulled into a long driveway. Taking in a deep breath as i observed the house, it looked warm and inviting but the man who lived here was anything but, i know i was expected to go home with him but i’ll be damned if that fool thinks that he will be able to touch me, i’ll die before i let that happen. Stepping out the car I followed Julian inside, the front door locking behind me and trapping me inside. “Second bedroom on the right, go upstairs now” he spat at me as he made his way towards his liquor cabinet. Taking off my heels I jogged up the stairs and into that bedroom shutting behind me. Leaning my head back I took in a few deep breaths before peeling myself off the door and out of this damn dress. Sliding my arms out of the straps, I began to tug the dress over my head. I'll be damned if I ask Julian to help me. Tossing the dress to the floor in a mess of cabernet tulle, I moved over to the full length mirror and stared at my reflection. My strappy lingerie clung to my curves, dark hair falling down my back, I looked and felt like a Goddess and the only man that I wanted worshiping at my altar was August. I wonder if I hold as much power over him as he does me. I let my glance linger for a few moments longer, before stripping out of those and climbing into a hot shower.

In comfy black pjs I was about to settle into bed for the evening when the door flung open to reveal Julian, standing my ground I waited for him to say something. “ You embarrassed me tonight, you know that, by letting the Walker hold on to you like a little lost puppy. It's pathetic really, but do you know how that made me look, that my wife-to-be is a wanton whore for an American CIA agent?!?!” he is practically foaming at the mouth. “I’d rather be his whore than your wife” Did i just quote the Titanic at him yes i did. I turned around to walk away from him, but he reached out and grabbed my still damp hair and pulled me back to him. Scream and clawing at the hand that held my hair, he spoke is a dark tone “ If you want to act like a whore that is how i am going to treat you do you understand me” the hand that was holding my hair lowered, i turned my head and bit him like a rabid dog “ You fucking bitch” he snarled as punched me in the gut and i stumbled back into the frame of the canopy bed, landing against it with a heavy and my head with a sickening crack. My vision was fuzzy for a few moments but I got my bearings and stood on shaky legs, ready to face him.

“ I could do this all day” I taunted him, yes I quoted Captain America, leave me alone. Wrapping a hand towel around the bite on his hand, he just smirked. “ You think you're funny?” I cocked my head “ I think I’m adorable” he sneered and lunged at me, skirting around him so he crashed into the bed, I tripped and landed on my ass, such a clumsy thing. This felt like a sick and twisted game of cat and mouse, but I'd be dead if this kitty cat caught me. Staggering into the hallway, I braced myself as Julian came charging out, and grabbed my waist. I whipped my head back crashing straight into his nose with a satisfying crunch and it began to gush like a fountain. With a sharp jab to his gut he stumbled back and towards the stairs, he grabbed my shirt and pulled me with him as we went down the stairs. Breathing hurt, moving hurt, everything fucking hurts. Shoving Julian off me, I struggled to my feet. When the patio doors burst open and three men dressed in black and came charging in with guns pointed. Julian sprung up from the floor and wrapped an arm around my throat “ Who the fuck are you?” he hissed at the men.

One of them laughed like an absolute lunatic. “ Wow I knew you were dumb but I didn't expect you to be that stupid. We are here for you dumbass” one of the other goonies moved at the speed of lightning and rushed at him. He threw me to the side to protect himself, stumbling on my feet. I bolted for the patio door when I was snatched by the third goon. “Easy poppet, we wouldn't want to hurt you know would we?” he sneered, his breath reeking of whiskey and cigarettes. I audibly gag as he continues to breathe on me as he secured my hands behind my back with zip ties.i could feel them biting into my skin, the big goon laughed as i attempted to rub my wrist together to relieve the pain “ What's wrong? Cant handle a little bondage?” he wiggled his eyebrows at me, disgusting pig. I spit in his face and he was pissed, he punched me in the stomach with full force, doubling over in pain he grabbed my head and slammed it off the counter. Fuck now i really was seeing stars, i could feel warm liquid pouring down my face “ Charles” one of the shadows snapped “ Leave her be, she has no part of this” i laughed out loud, i clearly was losing my mind as Charles pushed me into a chair “ Charles, you fucking name is Charles? Jesus, you must have been such a mama’s boy eh Charlie boy” i cackled and threw my head back with laughter. If I was going to die tonight might as well have the last laugh. Charles was seething “ You better watch your fucking mouth or i’ll make you sorry you ever opened it” he walked towards, his keeper and Julian. One day I am going to learn to shut my goddamn mouth but today is not the day.

Snorting loudly as my vision became blurry and my head began to spin. “ With an attitude like that, you must have to tie up all your girls to get attention. Even then you probably have a hard time satisfying them with that tic tac in your pants you call a penis. Oh sweet baby jesus, i did it, his control snapped “ Charles no” julians goon screamed as he spun around and came right for me, tackling me to the ground, my head met the ground with a snap and the chair broke under our combined weight as he reared back and clocked me in the face, spitting the blood at him, i smiled as my eyes crossed. Well I clearly was on death’s door as I heard more voices and I vaguely saw the blue eyes of my savior, August. He grabbed my face and talked to me. “Ann dont you dare, keep your eyes open. Look at me” he growled, I forced my eyes open for the last time. I smiled at him as blood dripped from my mouth “ Déjame ir” Let me go. Uttering my last goodbye as he drifted further and further away from my vision, his voice blending in with the white noise in my head, I closed my eyes for the last time.

Unknown POV

He called me and made me promise that she wouldn't get hurt. I was a fool to make a promise. I thought I could keep her safe. I raced back into the formal dining room but I was too late. Charles had her laid out flat on the floor and he was beating her. I whistled at my other guy who dropped Julian’s unconscious ass like a sack of potatoes and raced over to help me pull Charles off of her. “ Charles no, we need her alive” he was foaming at the mouth and he was struggling to get out of our hold. He was so desperate to get to her, to finish what we started as she was on her side choking on blood. Charles grunted and went limp in our arms, I looked over my shoulder and saw him. The person who begged me to protect her, someone I was equal parts terrified and proud to call my brother, August Walker. He ran to her and tried to get her to stay awake, but as she slipped away into the night, he looked back at me, his eyes full of murder. I may have been his brother but I was most certain that I wasn't going to survive the night.

August’s pov

pushing passed Levi and Brandon, knowing I'd deal with them later, I scooped you into my arms and took off.

*a few hours later*

Pretty sure I've worn a groove into the floor waiting to hear from the surgeon. They rushed you into immediate surgery upon our arrival and that was several hours ago. Sitting down, I hung my head. Already tormenting myself if you didn't make it. “Hey” a voice started me, looking up to see Levi holding out a cup of coffee to me. I smiled softly and took it from him. He sat besides, bouncing his leg impatiently. “August,” he began but I cut him off. “Don't,” I said, “ I will deal with him accordingly.” He nodded as he looked down at his cup of coffee.

“Mr. Walker?” A petite nurse called. Standing up I walked over to her. “ They just finished up the surgery, if you would follow me” I glanced back at Levi and he nodded as I walked with the nurse. She pointed to your room, and I thanked her. I expected to walk in and see you awake and talking but you weren't. You were still hooked up to machines. A tube was breathing for you. I wanted to scream, I wanted to rage. The surgeon rambled on about what they did and your prospective recovery. Walking over and grabbing your hand. Your hand was warm in mine, I squeezed it but there was no response. “ How long until she wakes up?” I asked him as I watched that machine breathe for you.

Clearing his throat “ I’m sorry Mr. Walker” he started i stared daggers at him waiting for him to continue “ She went through a long surgery and we almost lost her. Her brain has severely swollen so we placed her in a medically induced coma to help heal her brain '' I don't know if there was a disconnect in my brain but I wasn't clearly understanding. Levi stood in the doorway with a heavy sigh he just looked at you “ In plain terms Doc” he muttered and the dr turned towards him and nodded “ Mr. Walker, i'm not sure if she will ever wake up” my knees buckled from the weight, she may never wake up..

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill characters #august walker #august walker imagines #august walker fanfic

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reds-skull · 6 months

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So my thoughts on the train wreck that was mw3

(spoilers... obviously)

I reblogged a post talking about this a few hours ago, and it talked about this issue better than I could, but the mission with Samara made me grind my teeth literally. It doesn't mention that at the end of the mission, when she's forced to wear a bomb vest and hold a glock, in order to get to the detonator to stop the bomb you need to go through a crowd of people. I didn't shoot them but the game encourages you to. jsyk.

It's really fucked.

Overall, I'll be honest I didn't take anything too seriously. I heard it's a shitshow so I just looked for the full half of the cup. I also had a feeling someone's gonna die so I was scared for everyone all the fucking time.

[continued rent below]

My favorite parts are where Graves and Shepherd show up actually, since everyone's so fucking done with their bullshit it's so funny. Ghost straight up asking Laswell to airstrike them killed me, Soap being feral is a highlight.

Shepherd being the prisoner made me laugh idk I can't take that fucker seriously.

I liked seeing more of Farah and Alex. Playing as price was also interesting.

Liked seeing what happened in Verdansk that was cool.

Now for the shit... I was expecting a sort of chasing around the world part 2 after a couple of missions. And that's what it is? Kinda? I'll be honest I'll need to rewatch to understand what was going at the start...

Now for the last mission... I saw people talking about Soap's death coming out of nowhere and I can't help but disagree? Like since Verdansk with Makarov threatening Soap and then Shepherd telling him it will all come back to bite him in the ass... I knew it will be him.

But did it make sense for him to die at that moment? That is harder to tell, I think they're aiming for his death to be a catalyst for Price, to be more ruthless. We see that with him killing Shepherd, like Soap wanted to.

Was it necessary for Price's arc to have Soap die? Not really. He was already set on killing Makarov at the start of the game. I guess you could say he's not tolerant of Shepherd and Graves' grey morality, but they didn't really pose a threat to the 141 after mw2. Shepherd went off the grid and Graves was busy with Farah and Alex.

In general I was surprised that was the last mission. It felt really jarring, even if I know it's supposed to lead up to mw4.

Small note gameplay wise (and glitches) I actually liked the changes, but that's because my favorite games are stealth based, so having the option for it was more fun for me. But I see the average cod player not enjoying it (not really what they signed up for).

I was actually feeling like if I had the option to return the game I would, but it's a dlc and I sure have more than 3 hours on mw2 so I can't...

(first time I buy a triple A game on release and that's what I fuckin get... kinda deserved ngl lmao)

The 2 main things that should be taken away from this are that first this was an impossible game to make in a year, there's a lot of overworking we didn't see behind the scenes, and we can thank the execs and the current nightmare that is the triple A games industry. You can't make a good game at that short of a time.

Second thing is, this is cod. As much as it wants to criticize the military, on the bottom line they got ties with the American military complex. Because of that, Call of Duty will never be an accurate view of the army, and will always glorify western military.

I honestly was agreeing with some of the stuff the villeins say at times when they criticize the good guys. But the villeins are often so over the top evil you can't really agree with them. And that's the point, isn't it?

So it will always have that issue. My interest in this story is purely from a narrative point, irl I come from an extremely militaristic place so I'm sick of all that shit propaganda. Might be obvious for the rest of you, but for the ones that are not... do your research. Learn about how propaganda works. I promise it will be useful to you at one point in your life.

(getting sidetracked here... sorry recent events really bring up some emotions. Mostly anger.)

Just as a sidenote about my own comics - I'm just gonna straight up ignore mw3. Might work with the Verdansk backstory because I liked that, but in general just imagine I'm going off on a tangent. As much as I like angst I want it more emotionally fueled than the campaigns, so if anyone dies, it's on my terms!

I've been really fucking busy with uni so it might take a while, but I'm working on a nice fluffy comic (with an idea I've planned months ago so it's completely unrelated to mw3)

Whoever's still reading, I'll cya then!

#mw3 spoilers #cod mw3 #not art #damn this ended up really long #look I like overthinking stories #especially when it's a train wreck #gotta learn from mistakes and all that #I'll be happy to talk more about this in the notes! would love to hear more perspectives

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danses-with-dogmeat · 1 year

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ook i'm not sure if you write fo3 companions, but for the 1.5k event could u pls do ☠️🦖 with Charon/Lone Wanderer: "If you touch me again, I will break your hand." I love Charon but i feel like he's always overlooked haha, thank u!

Oooohhhhhh, this was so interesting to think about! I usually write characters as wanting to be close to one another, pining or trying to be friends or whatnot, so this was a hard quote to apply to my usual stuff, so instead, I mixed it up a bit!

So here's some lovely angst for ya, plus Charon being extra grumpy, but can we really blame the guy?

I hope you enjoy!

"I'll kill for you because I have to, I'd die to protect you because I'm bound to you. I'm forced to. But if you touch me again, I will break your hand."

Lone felt his breath spill onto their face, the ghoul's substantial form towering over them, casting a bone-chilling shadow over their whole body.

"Is that understood?" Charon's cold eyes bore into them, freezing their limbs in place. They couldn't step back, couldn't shove him away, couldn't even blink as the ghoul's gaze tore into them and ripped away every shred of false control they thought they'd held over him.

Ordering Charon around, having him to settle every dispute of theirs, having to follow every order without complaints or second thoughts, it made them feel like they never had before. The power they held, the influence they had, the resolve they felt, the certainty of their own security by his hand, it had made them bold. Bold beyond what they could promise, particularly without Charon by their side.

Perhaps they'd used him, grown comfortable treating him as their slave, their guard dog, their own personal "problem solver". They'd never considered that he could grow tired of it all. That he could turn on them, that he could threaten them the way he was now.

That wasn't in the contract.

Finally, Lone swallowed hard, their hand visibly shaking as it released it's feeble hold on his bicep.

"I understand." They tried to inject strength into their voice, to sound firm and decisive, but still, the words shook as they left their tongue.

"I'm not your friend. We're not close." Charon stepped closer to them, forcing their own feet to move, to back them against the ruined wall behind them until they felt no more than a couple inches tall. "That paper is the only reason I'm here."

He spat out the word paper like he was allergic to it, and Lone could only flinch as his expression stayed hard as stone and as hateful as more than a lifetime of slavery could make it.

"If not you, then Ahzrukhal, if not him, someone else. Anyone else."

Lone nodded mutely, feeling the cool clamminess of sweat building over their forehead, the uncomfortable prickling as beads of it fell down their back.

"You're not special. I don't care about you. I work for you. And I do it because I'm forced to."

What was left of the ghoul's nose wrinkled in a snarl, his heavy brow furrowed, obscuring the stark, blue eyes below, and Lone could only just make out the glinting points of his canines within the black confines of his mouth as he growled at them like a cornered beast.

"If I had the choice, I would be far, far away from you. You're a stupid, spoiled little vault dweller who wouldn't last one goddamn day without me, and I detest working for you."

Tears were forming in Lone's eyes now, each word like a jab to their ribcage, bruising their feelings, their ego, their sense of humanity all at once.

Could I really have been so cruel for him to hate me like this?

Could I be... worse than Ahzrukhal? Than his other owners before me?

"You're nothing to me but a name on a binding paper." Charon leaned in even further, hunching over to remain eye-to-eye with his companion, with his charge that he despised, that they could see he despised in his every disgusted feature, every drop of fire in his eyes that screamed fury.

"Do I make myself clear?" He whispered, hauntingly, and if Lone felt frozen before, now they felt petrified, his searing words cutting into them, stripping away their defenses, leaving them pale and dead and hollow in their cruel wake.

They couldn't have said for sure if they'd given him verbal confirmation, if they nodded to him, or if he simply saw the answer in their desolate, distant features, but finally, he leaned back and away from them, returning to his massive height as his gaze still cast itself downward to hold theirs hostage.

Unblinking, Lone finally allowed themself to take a breath, one which they sucked in rapidly with their surprise as Charon spat onto the ground between their feet.

He turned away, his leather armor darker even then the night sky as he set off for the line of the dimly glowing horizon without looking back to see if they followed.

How could they? When their legs felt like clay, when their resolve had been beaten into the mud, soiled and brutalized until it was left nothing at all. When all they could do was think about how it came to this, how they'd let themself slip and become the enemy that they swore they were saving their companion from. When they'd ceased being his savior, and instead, had become his owner, abusive and immoral and unthinking, just like Ahzrukhal.

Maybe worse. Who knows but Charon? And he seemed to think so.

To think I'm not any different.

Lone took another breath, this time slower, as they watched Charon's form blur with the distance he gained from them. They felt heat well up in their throat, sting at their eyes, and their hands tightened into fists, their fingernails digging into their palms with the force of it.

How could I ever apologize for something like this?

How could he ever forgive me?

#1.5k celebration #1.5k event #fallout #fallout 3 #fallout companions #fallout 3 companions #charon #fallout 3 charon #fo3 charon #fallout charon #charon fo3 #deathclaw

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jocy-diaries · 2 years

Text

04.19.2022

My stomach hurts so bad. I knew I Monday that my stomach hurt because I had drunk too much so I should lay off the alcohol but it'd been two days and I'm still hurting... Not fair. No way it's still caps, I don't have them for so long usually. Aaaah this sucks.

On the other hand, I got the books I ordered today~ Those 'One Fine Day' books remind me of my childhood summers in Kansas~ I can't wait for the second one to be available so I can buy it.

Also... I'm talking to my friend's ex again, which is weird. I thought we stopped talking half a year ago but he messaged me a month after that and I didn't see it since I deleted the messaging app. .... So yeah, we're talking again. I think he knows not to flirt with me now though. I hope so at least...

Also! I had a dream last night about OFMD since I've I've seeing stuff about it so much but I haven't actually watched it, and I was a vampire with a bunch of other girls on Black Beard's crew. I'm making a Dhampire pirate (dhampirate if you will) character in DnD to make this a bit of a reality.

Wednesday

I'm getting worse at remembering my dreams. Like, a lot worse. If I don't write it down somewhere when I wake up it's gone thirty minutes later. I really hate it, but I also can't keep writing down all of the details... It's so frustrating.

Thursday

:D I found a grey hair in my head this morning!!! It's literally just a single strand but I got so excited~ I don't really think I'll live to be old but I I hope I get to see my hair turn grey. I. Gonna look cool af.

Also. Woke up with a headache and bad dreams today. You'd think I drank a lot before going to bed but no, just took some Melatonin. Making my characters sacrifices is good and interesting, but me being the sacrifice is actually quite terrifying.

Sunday

So many fucking dreams tonight..

Yesterday it was white lily related. Where the person growing white lilies and their village were happy and loved the lilies but everyone outside of the village hated the white lily seller because white lilies represented death and highlighted Graves and funerals.

Then today I was a chosen vessel for an entity and it was a cushy gig because all I had to do was wear a special robe to ceremonies that were like concerts bit one time I put it in the wash and forgot about it so I freaked out and my roommate wasn't any help so I went looking for my robe. Then the scene shifts and I'm in early 1900s America as a black person trying to sneak around and not be found but I am found and bought by this religious enthusiast who is technically nice but in an 'I own you' way so I hate him and he beings me to a voodoo ceremony to get initiated over something and that magic was intense. How could I forget the most traumatizing parts of the dream? The first part was a race through a maze like mall and the government released zombies behind us. We had to hide and keep going to not die. I was with my youngest sister and at one point she actually did die because of a test we had to go through. Then a lady followed me through a mall to sign me up for another test experiment and this time it was a battle royal against five other people and the last one alive wins. I didn't want to keep going so I asked to leave, and then got taken to a different dream where someone made a really complicated salmon recipe and I had to help set a large table for people. Gosh now I'm exhausted.

#dear diary #april 2022 #04.19.2022 #dream

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raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

I'd Die Fighting

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I really like the concept, and kind of got carried away with the stories and now they're too long. So I'll release them as individuals as I finish them. I hope you like them! ^-^

If anyone else wants to request you can here.

Mafia Bangtan Other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: Pinned down by the cops, you know you're the only one who can stop Jimin from getting himself killed.

Trigger Warnings: Police shooting, gun usage, blood, violence, death, ambiguous ending.

Jimin

Mafia! Jimin

You were in the middle of a scheduled pick up, collecting the gang's share of the profits for the month. There had already been 3 today and all had gone as routine as the times before. You're in a residential building site, parked in one of the driveways, and on a Sunday too, so it's nice and quiet and empty. There was no reason to think that this stop would be any different than the last.

That was until the lights and sounds of police sirens filled the street.

You could only watch on in dread as 4 cop cars sped into the driveway trapping you and the two men into a box. With a 10-foot foundation wall behind you and building walls on either side, you were now realizing that this location wasn't so much secure, as it was an obvious dead end.

Looking back in the side-view mirror, you can see Jimin with the dealer. The guy panics instantly, pulling out his gun without a chance to even aim it before he is blown away. There are dozens of deafening shots all at once and the guy, no older than you, drops down dead.

Barely able to contain your terror, you are not able to do anything but to watch helplessly as Jimin dives behind the rear of the car to avoid the stray bullets.

Slowly, the officers start down the concrete path, closing in tighter, all of them with their guns drawn, all of them looking alarmed and ready to fire. With this many cops, you know neither of you stands a chance. There is no escape here, not without a miracle. But you know Jimin. You know he isn't going to just give in. He's said it before, he's said it often. He might die, but he'll die fighting before he dies in a cage.

The officer coming closest to the car bangs on the hood to draw your attention making you jump. "Stay in the car," He mouths the words.

You can't abide. If you don't do something Jimin is going to get himself killed. He may be willing to die, but you're not willing to lose him. You shake your head hard, swinging the car door open, stepping out tensely with your hands upright. Your arms and legs are shaking with pure adrenaline, relying on nothing but a prayer that they don't shoot you right now.

"Get back in the car." "Stay in the car." "Miss, get back in the car." A sea of loud, demanding voices shout at you all at once. While your survival instinct is telling you to obey the angry people with guns, you ignore them all. Your instinct-your love for Jimin is greater than your fear.

Walking paced steps backwards, you're watchfully eyeing them. They're still pressing forwards, but they have slowed substantially. Half of the group aiming more aggressively, and the other half pointing their guns at you more hesitantly. Calls of stay in the car turn into orders to get on the ground. But you can't, you won't.

Coming in line with the back of the car, Jimin is knelt behind it his gun in hand. "Y/n! What the fuck are doing?!" he snaps, eyes full of worry.

He may bluster to everyone else, but you know the full expression. In private he'd whisper the ending to you and only you. 'I'd die fighting before I ever die in a cage. And I'll spend my life locked up before I ever see you hurt.'

"Get back in the car!" He growls.

"No," you whisper.

"Get back in the car!"

"No."

"Oh for fucks sake, will you just listen to me for once!" He growls, running his hand back through his hair, about to lose any composer he has remaining.

"No!" You shout, your eyes darting from the cops to Jimin and back.

He roars, grabbing your shirt, yanking you down the ground beside him. The commands of the police heighten and start coming more frequently as they steadily begin to entrap the two of you again.

"I'm gonna beat the hell outta you after this." He shouts, reaching over the top of the car to fire a slew of shots, not aiming to hit anyone but just trying to keep the cops away.

"Fine. Do it. But just let there be an after." You plead, eyes filling with tears. "Put the gun down. Please!"

"What?! No!"

"Come out with your hands up or we open fire." A far off voice, coming through a speaker, gives a sickening order.

Jimin's harsh defiant look turns to one of pure fright and frenzy. He knows if they're shooting at him, they're shooting at you.

His hand scrunches in the scruff of your shirt, dragging you flat to the ground further out of harms-way, using the same momentum to launch himself into the open, weapon ready. He gets only 2 shot off before they retaliate with more than half a dozen. Not all connect, one catching his leg, another his shoulder. The hits double him over, making him drop the gun.

It all happens before you are able to even turn back over. The sight of him struck has you screaming, acting rashly and impulsively. You wail his name clambering to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lifting him upright, you're covering him with your body as much as you possibly can. You don't pause think what might happen right now if the officers began to fire again. You only know you need to save him from them. Save him from himself. Pushing him with your chest, you force him back more and more until his body hits the foundation wall. You turn yourself around towards the encroaching men and women, shoving your weight roughly against him. To shield him, and trying your best to keep him pinned to the bricks so he is unable to act suddenly or foolishly.

Thankfully the cops still seem hesitant to shoot at you. Although you don't trust it for it to last much longer.

Your stomach drops, feeling a warm wetness dripping over the exposed skin on your upper back. Jimin's shoulder is bleeding heavily down you.

This is so fucking bad.

"Stop, please stop, Baby!" You whisper to Jimin, nearly unable to form the words due to the shake in your voice. It's just the two of you opposing 7 armed police officer. You know he hates the thought of defeat, he may even hate you for this, but neither of you has any way of winning this standoff.

His forehead presses to the back of your head, his hot breath fanning down your neck. In the smallest motions, you feel him nod against you.

Raising them in surrender, his arms come out from behind you. There's a sharp pain in your side with a sudden booming sound. It knocks your breath away. You whine, your hand squeezing tighter against his legs, into the fabric of his jeans.

"Y/n?" Jimin knows what's happening before you do.

One of the officers mistook Jimins actions as hostile and got twitchy with his gun.

You gasp slumping back into him, your legs weakening. He catches you, lowering with you as you fall to the floor. "Baby!"

Jimin looks up to the cop who fired. He's memorizing every detail of their face. Already having resigned to hunt them down and make them suffer.

Finally able to inhale, you cry out a low scream, pain spreading from your stomach up. "Jimin," you cry clawing his arm, fingers wrapped in his sleeve.

The swarm of police starts to move more frantically. A knee flies at Jimin sending him into the wall, separating him from you. Without him, you fall flat into the dirt. To your right one of the men is forcing Jimin to the ground with a knee trying to flatten him. But he isn't giving in, fighting and struggling against the weight, desperately trying to get back to you.

Even as there are three of them versus only Jimin, he is still putting up enough resistance that they are unable to fully hold him.

"Y/n!" He yells, as one of his arms is pinned behind his back, driving him heavily into the dirt. "Get the fuck off!" he snarls.

Your throat feels full. You're starting to choke, spluttering blood out and down your cheeks. Your hands clutching your stomach are wet and slippery from blood. The heavy amounts of it pouring from you making you weaker with each passing second.

"Alright!" There's a heavy thump as Jimin stops resisting and is plunged aggressively into the floor. "Just help her! Help her!" With all of the pain and fear you're feeling, it's the pure panic in Jimin's voice that finally brings you to tears.

Rolling your head towards him, his chin is dug into the concrete floor, his skin and clothes red with blood, his face pale and flush, his eyes red and teary with emotion. With him no longer fighting they are able to cuff his hands. They haul him to his feet, carrying his weight. He yells in pain, his cries turning into pleas for you, calling again and again for someone, anyone to help you.

One of the officers comes to your side pressing firmly on your wound making you shriek, spitting out even more blood. They speak into their walkie-talkie describing your state and injuries calling for an ambulance. Explaining that a male will be coming to the hospital by a police cruiser.

In front of you, the others are dragging a limping Jimin away. Being pulled from you he begins his fight again, battling to not leave you. But he's too injured and restricted to combat them much more. Only able to call out to you over and over.

Even as the car doors close on him, you can still hear him shouting your name. Even as you lose consciousness you can still hear the echo of his voice.

#bts #bts fanfic #bangtan #jimin #park jimin #yandere jimin #bts jimin #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #mafia jimin #bts requests #bts reactions #bts mafia imagine

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blueeyedgeorgie · 3 years

Text

Cancelled-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Surprise bitch. Weren’t we expecting for me to release mcyt fanfics soon? If I didn’t tag my usual @‘s it’s because idk if you’d like to be tagged for mcyt content.

Pronouns: she/her

Word Count: 2.3k+

_________________

"You're so harsh on him!" Her hands sat on the keyboard, staring at the green human that stood on Y/n's computer screen.

She needed to be careful. While this was a heated moment, she couldn't let herself get too loud for multiple reasons. If she got too loud, Dream's stream viewers would be able to tell she was in the next room or they would just receive noise complaints from their neighbors.

"No Y/n! You're too soft on him! He needs to learn that he can't get away with everything. You're setting him up for failure." As the h/c girl listened to her roommate speak, she had to remind herself over and over again; 'This wasn't real.' Dream was mad, not Clay.

This had all been arranged as roleplay. Y/n would be leaving in a few days to go visit some of her family for a reunion, so Wilbur had been the one to think up the brilliant idea of what was playing out now; an argument between Y/n and Dream. The plan was to have Y/n get so upset she didn't log onto the SMP for the next few days, only to come back with a master plan to backstab Dream.

At first, Clay wasn't really on board with the thought of him getting angry at Y/n. They had been together for a little over a year, there wasn't a single moment they had gotten upset with one another. But surprisingly, Y/n had been the one to convince Clay it was a good idea.

The fans knew Dream and Y/n had a close friendship, Dream had always been so protective of her. But when this was going down, they didn't know how to act.

Every time Y/n would glance at her chat, she'd see thousands of comments rising up as new ones appeared. Comment after comment, it looked like the fans were shocked by the way this stream was turning out.

"I'm not setting him up for anything! He's a kid, Dream!" Y/n glanced from the chat, back at the screen showing her PC game. Standing on her screen was Dream and Tommyinnit, she had accompanied Dream to visit Tommy.

"You're just babying him! 'He's a kid!' Well, he needs to learn to grow up eventually," his voice had been filled with such spite. It felt weird to hear Clay speaking to her like this in such a tone.

For a moment, she stared at the green man before a short scoff escaped her lips. "I can't believe you." With that, Y/n had pressed a few keys, turning her character towards the nether portal a couple of yards away. Before Dream had gotten the chance to speak again, Y/n began to move away.

"Y/n! Come back here!"

She flicked a few buttons, taking a moment to look behind her character to see Dream following. Good, everything was going according to plan. Within the next few minutes, she'd be able to log off and she'd be on vacation for the next few days.

The h/c girl ignored the green man as she stepped through the portal, taking her to Minecraft's version of hell. Almost done, she just needed to find a good spot to stop as she listened to Dream continue to speak.

"You can't keep ignoring me! You know I'm right in this. You know you can't keep defending Tommy. You know Tommy is driving a wedge between us-"

Perfect. Y/n had stopped just on the edge of a bridge, molten lava sat feet below them. If she fell, she'd surely die. "No."

"No?" Dream was a bit surprised to hear Y/n cut him off, but he stayed silent as he was prepared to listen to what she had to say.

"No. No more. I don't wanna hear you blame Tommy for us breaking apart. I want you to listen to me. You've been acting like much more of a dick than usual and I hate it. I despise it. You've changed for the worst because you think you can step on everyone. At this point, everyone fears to tell you the truth-except me. I'll be a hundred percent honest with you, you've been so egotistical, it's really pissed me off. This is your fault, Dream. Not Tommy's. You exiled a child for pulling a prank on a vacation house! Not even George's real house!"

"But-"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm done, but I don't wanna hear you bullshit me. So shut the fuck up."

A moment of silence passed between them as Y/n stared at her screen. Just a few more steps.

And within seconds, Dream had pulled out his netherite sword. With one hit, she was falling back into lava. Y/n glanced at her chat, a look of shock on her face as she read over what a few comments said. A moment of silent tension had passed before Y/n had finally spoken up, removing her from the voice chat she was in.

"Alright guys, I guess that's enough for the day. I'll see you all... later." With that, she had clicked a few buttons, raiding Dream's live-stream as she ended hers.

For the next 20 to 30 minutes, Y/n knew Clay would be busy streaming. So she had decided to take a bit of time to wind down and think to herself.

Get a glass of water.

'Are the fans harassing him in his twitch chat?'

Sit down on the living room couch.

'The SMP fans were always so protective of me.'

Pet Patches.

'Was I too much when I snapped at him?'

It didn't seem like 30 minutes had passed when Clay had walked out of his streaming room, only to find Y/n on the couch with Patches in her lap. "Hey, N/n." "Oh, your stream is already over?" Y/n smiled, pulling herself out of her thoughts as she scoot over, giving Clay room to take a seat right by her.

"Yeah, did you lose track of time or something?"

"I must've. How did the chat react after I 'died'?" She smiled up at her boyfriend as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer into his embrace.

"Everyone was filled with joy that you died."-Y/n playfully swatted at him. "Okay, okay! I got a few chat messages of people bashing me for it, but it's fine."

"Well, it's a good thing the chat wasn't completely littered with hate. How was it after my raid?"

"Honestly, not that bad as you expect. Like I said, just a few comments. Nothing bad, I just ignored it." Clay placed a hand on Patches's head, gently scratching her, followed by the animal beginning to purr.

"Good to hear, anyways... I'm not ready to pack. Do you think we can procrastinate?" The h/c girl let out a huff leaning against her boyfriend. "How?"

"I was thinking a bit of movie binging, cuddling, and ordering dinner?" A cheeky smile spread on her face as she spoke.

"It's like you read my mind."

The couple had made it through three movies, by now it was later at night. The sun had set and they had already door dashed some food. By now they were in the middle of watching 'The Empire Strikes Back.'

'I love you.' 'I know.'

The iconic moment between Hans and Leia had been interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone buzzing. "Why is George calling?"

"What?" Y/n was a bit curious herself. Considering the timezones, George should be asleep right now. Pausing the TV, she turned her attention to her boyfriend's phone.

"Hey Clay."

"What's up, George? Isn't it like early in the morning for you?" Clay raised a brow, moving his phone so Y/n would be able to see George as well.

"Yeah, I had to stay up to fix a YouTube video I need to get out today. I was about to go to bed and I checked Twitter-"

"Oh no." Clay made a short joke, only to be cut off by his friend.

"I don't know if it's trending for you in America, but you might as well look."

"What's going on?" He swiped up, taking him to his home screen so he could click on the little blue bird app. Y/n had grabbed her phone from the coffee table, opening up the app as well. "#Cancel Dream... #Y/n... #Dream SMP"

"Is... is Clay getting canceled for killing me in Minecraft?" Y/n scrolled through the tweets involving the hashtag 'Y/n.' She could see plenty of people defending her, but making it much bigger of a problem than it actually was.

"Oh, hey Y/n. But yeah, he is." George chuckled awkwardly, scrolling through his Twitter app as well.

"This is so fucking stupid."

"It really is. So we might as well get this cleared up with the fans as soon as possible. Do you want me to tweet something, or do you want to?" Y/n looked up at her boyfriend, it looked like he was thinking.

"Yeah, I'll tweet it. Don't worry about this, Y/n."

"Alright, whatever you say," she replied, pulling a blanket over her as she waited for Clay to finish typing his response.

"Here's what I'm gonna say: 'I can't believe you guys actually think me and @(y/n) are in an actual fight in real life. We have been good friends since forever, the fight was only roleplay. I love that you guys are so protective of Y/n, but no one's actually upset.' How's that sound?"

"I think that's good," George hummed softly.

"Yeah, I doubt you'll stay 'canceled' once you've explained to them it was all part of the SMP lore." The h/c girl smiled up at her boyfriend with a small nod.

"Alright, I'm gonna post it. George, I think you should go to bed because you're half asleep already."

Y/n turned, looking at her boyfriend's iPhone. "Go to sleep, Gogy!"

"Alright, alright... I'll talk to you guys later." The call had ended with Clay and Y/n saying goodbye to their friend while George simply yawned to them as a response.

As soon as the call was over, Clay looked at the response to his tweet. It didn't seem to be going too well. There had been a few fans who understood what was going on and responded with a paragraph as an apology for the misunderstanding. But most replies had been telling Clay he was bullshitting the fans or that he wasn't being honest.

"I'm sorry, Clay," his girlfriend had huffed as she read through the responses to his tweet.

"Honestly I'm just a bit pissed off. Literally, any time someone tries to 'cancel' me, it's over something stupid. I'm not a bad guy, it just feels like some people just don't want to see me succeed." Clay had excused himself to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

It hurt Y/n to hear how upset her boyfriend was. He never got too upset over things, but seemed to take a small toll on him. "Hold on. Let me say something." The h/c girl couldn't be asked to post multiple tweets of her response to hate sent towards Clay over the internet. So what was better than a short video that could be posted to the blue bird app?

"Um, hey guys. I'd just like to make this quick. Stop sending hate towards Dream. The fight was roleplay and nothing more. I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days so Wilbur thought of a good idea to help build SMP lore with me and Dream and we both agreed to the argument. Now stop sending the green man hate, or I'll commit war crimes or something-"

Y/n had been interrupted by the sound of Clay letting out a small giggle. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, just keep going with your video."

"Whatever, I'm cool. No matter what Dream says. Anyways, I'll speak to you all later." Y/n had hit the red button again, ending her video. Within seconds, the video had been uploaded to her Twitter account.

Placing her phone back down on the table, Y/n approached her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso. "I'm really sorry about the hate, Clay. I love you."

"Don't apologize for something you can't control. I love you more." The brunette held his partner close, accepting her hug. Y/n always loved his hugs, she always felt so safe in his embrace.

The rest of the night had been spent with more cuddling and more Star Wars movies. Hours had passed before Y/n had even thought about the Twitter situation again. But for some reason, she had decided to look at the app again tonight.

It was 2 in the morning by now, Clay was half asleep. His head laid in the h/c girl's lap as she brushed a hand through his hair, her free hand opening up her Twitter app once again.

It had been a bit of a surprise to see a couple of trending hashtags had changed so quickly. What was trending now was #Dream, #Y/n,#(ship name), and #Dream's Laugh. This had to be about Y/n's short clip she posted. And by the looks of it, people had stopped acting so harsh towards Clay. But instead, they had decided to focus on the fact Dream and Y/n were hanging out together. Not to mention the fact Dream and let out a stupid little giggle because of Y/n. People had been apologizing to him through Twitter for being so hard on him.

"Babe."

"Hm?" Clay mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Pretty much everyone is apologizing to you over Twitter for being hardasses."

"Hm, that's good to hear."

"You're really tired, huh?" Y/n paused her scrolling to look down at her boyfriend.

"Yeah," He continued to mumble, followed by a short yawn.

"Alright, time for bed, babe." Y/n smiled to herself, beginning to carefully move away from Clay. "I can pack tomorrow and we can laugh over the stupid bird app tomorrow after you've gotten a good amount of sleep."

"I still can't believe Twitter tried canceling me over roleplay."

"I can't believe you got uncancelled by shippers."

Taglist: @notphilosopherstudentblog

#dreamwastaken #dream was taken #dream was taken x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream was taken imagine #dream was taken one shot #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken oneshot #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp oneshot

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shedobewritingalittle · 3 years

Text

Not A Team: Part 2- New World Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader gives a speech at the opening of Steve’s exhibit and has a talk with Sam following his speech.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, talks of death, talks of mental illness, feelings of isolation

Read Part One here

Listen to the playlist inspired by the series here

Y/N felt like coming here today was a mistake.

Her stomach tossed and turned like a stormy sea, threatening to send her breakfast all over Rhodey's shiny shoes. She was second guessing everything. Was her dress nice enough? Rhodey had told her she looked great, but she hadn't worn a dress since Steve's funeral-Oh God, what if he was lying to her? No, he wouldn't lie to her-but what if he felt bad? Jesus, dd her shoes look stupid? Maybe she shouldn't have worn heels-but then she always wore heels with dresses and if she wore flats that would look childish. Did her speech sound coherent? Fuck, what if she messes up. Would they think she was doing it on purpose out of retribution for what Steve did? No, they didn't know what Steve did, what he had done to her. What if-

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? You look like you're going to blow chunks." Rhodey cuts through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He puts his hand on her back, "Breathe, Y/N."

"Maybe this a bad idea, Rhodey. I mean they have Sam. I think Sam can handle this." She stumbles over her words, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and she swore her hands were shaking,

"You're going to be okay, but you need to relax. I've read and reread your speech a dozen times. It's perfect." Rhodey tries to soothe her, his hand rubbing her back. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, working on slowing her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Hey pretty lady, I was wondering where the exhibit is. I'm supposed to be giving a speech there today." A voice calls out, sending Y/N's eyes flying open. She turns on her heels, being greeted by the sight of Sam walking towards them, holding the leather case that carries the shield. Y/N can feel the tension melting out of her shoulders as a smile spreads across her nervous face.

"Rhodey, I think they might be letting anyone speak here today." Y/N teases, the anxiousness slipping away, releasing its hold on her. Rhodey chuckles, shaking his head at his friend's antics. She hadn't seen Sam since the days following Steve's funeral and right now, he's a welcome sight. Sam rests his hand over his heart, feigning hurt as he gets closer.

"You wound me, woman." Sam jokes, smiling right back at her. They embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as his go around her waist, "I missed you, kid."

"I've missed you too, Sammy." She murmurs back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. They pull away and Sam smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Rhodey clears his throat, gently touching Y/N's upper arm.

"Hey I need to go talk to some people, alright?" Rhodey announces, almost as if he is asking permission. Y/N just smiles and nods, the smile staying on her face until he walks away from the two.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Sam questions, to which Y/N sighs, looking down at her shoes. She stays quiet for a moment, feeling his eyes on her.

"You want the truth or you want me to tell you what I tell Rhodey?" She replies, looking back at him. Y/N shifts from one foot to another, glad they were far from the crowd that was gathering. He gives her a look, giving her an answer without opening his mouth. She sighs again, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"I don't sleep, not really. I get maybe an hour a night if I am lucky. I-The house is filled with boxes that I can't unpack because-" Her voice cracks, her chest rising and falling quickly. She bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to not cry, "I thought that leaving the apartment would make him go away, but it didn't."

"Well Steve was always stubborn." Sam responds, making a laugh bubble out of her throat before she could stop it. There was an "I'm sorry" buried in the joke and Y/N knew it, but decided to only focus on the joke.

The stage looked daunting.

She forced herself up those steps, the person who had introduced her still had his hand outstretched towards her. Y/N wondered if she could make a run for it. Sure people will be mad at her, but she won't be forcing herself through this. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the clapping nothing but a ringing in her ears. For a moment, her eyes landed on the giant banner of her husband, a lump forming in her throat. He was watching over her, his face emotionless as his eyes seemingly followed her every step. Cameras flashed as she stood on the stage, striding over to the podium. Once she stood in front of it, a hush fell over the crowd.

Y/N Rogers had saved thousands of lives. She was an Avenger and had faced countless foes. Hell, her wedding had more people in attendance than this event, but she still felt sick to her stomach. Y/N gave them all a smile as she forced herself to calm down, swallowing hard before speaking.

"To say that Steve Rogers was a special man is putting lightly. He was a hero that many of us, myself included, aspired to be one day. And while many of you only knew him as Captain America, I was among the lucky few that got to know him just as Steve Rogers. Now I could stand up here and tell you about every battle he won, how valiantly he fought-but everyone else is going to do that. Hell, you can read about it in the exhibit." Y/N chuckles, blinking away the tears in her eyes as the crowd laughs.

Y/N finds Rhodey and Sam in the crowd, both of them giving her smiles of encouragement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the diamond on her wedding ring sparkling in the light. It's the first time she's worn it in a while, but it felt almost right to wear it. Once again, she's pretending like Steve didn't leave her. No, Y/N is ignoring that completely, almost blissfully. These people only know Steve as Captain America, as a god-damned American hero. She isn't going to tarnish that, won't ruin his legacy. And regardless of what Steve did to her, she is still in love with him and she wants to talk about the man she fell in love with, not the one that hurt her. Y/N inhales and exhales shakily before continuing.

"Steve was so much more than just Captain America. He was my best friend and my husband. He was the type of man to pick up flowers for you just because. The type of man to tell you that you looked really pretty even though you were covered in dirt and ash. He would let me go on and on about things that didn't even matter, but with the way he paid attention you would think that I was telling him the secrets of the world. Steve loved staying in and having movie marathons-he-he had a list he'd carry with him to write down things he needed to learn about. Before we dated, he would text me randomly, asking me why Jar Jar Binks is hated so much or asking me to explain what emojis are. He never quite got the hang gof the latter." A laugh comes out of Y/N's mouth, the crowd following suit. There was a smile on her face, a warmth spreading in her chest.

"He's the man I'll be in love with until the day I die, but then I'll fall in love all over again because I'll be able to see him again. Steve was the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met and while I will always wish we had more time together, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. We were all lucky to have him." Y/N pauses again, her throat constricting with emotion, "Even though he's gone, Steve lived a long life-a life longer than some of us get and I am happy that so many different facets of his life is going to be explored and shared with so many people. I hope you all enjoy the exhibit. Thank you."

The applause that followed was almost thunderous. Y/N smiled as her heart slammed against her ribcage, cameras flashing as she made her way off the stage. She was glad it was finally over as she moved to stand next to Rhodey and Sam. Sam kissed her cheek before he climbed up the stairs to the stage. Rhodey rubbed her back, telling her quietly that she did great. She just nodded in response, her eyes on her friend, watching as Sam leaned the shield against the plexiglass podium.

"Thank you Y/N for making my job a lot harder." Sam teases, causing everyone to chuckle. Y/N smiles right back at him, shaking her head as her friend carries on, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered poising stoically. "

Sam's a natural at this, standing up there like its nothing. And while Y/N should be focused on the speech, her eyes keep drifting down to the shield at his feet.

"The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing," Sam chuckles, picking up the shield, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy, but also, we look to the future. So thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

Y/N feels sick to her stomach as she watches Sam hand the shield off. Her chest feels tight and she-she can't be here. There's a ringing on her ears and she can't breathe. Y/N pushes through the crowd, not bothering with pleasantries as she does it. A dozen emotions rack her body, causing her hands to start to heat up. She forces it down, deep down as she walks into an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Sam gave away the shield.

He gave it away.

Like it was nothing.

And she wants to scream, wants to cry, but it won't come out. Y/N won't let it, not now when she is still in public. She walks over to the sinks, her hands gripping the counter. Her eyes are rimmed with red, eyes all watery. Her red painted lips press into a thin line as she forces herself to not cry, practically glaring at her reflection. What did her therapist tell her to do? Ah yes, breath in and out. In and out.

This was all too much way too soon. She couldn't handle this. She was being bombarded with memories and emotions already and now Sam giving the shield away? She felt like she was going to lose it. A part of her felt like she was overreacting. overthinking this whole situation. And maybe she was. Y/N did that from time to time. Tony had told her she was an expert of making mountains out of molehills. Maybe Sam just didn't want to be Captain America, didn't want to shoulder that burden. That was understandable. It was a shitty, shitty job-one that Sam didn't ask for. He shouldn't be forced to take on the mantle of Captain America, not when the previous owner had tossed it away so carelessly.

Yet, the bigger part of her was incredibly upset. Angry at the fact that Sam handed off the shield to be shelved in a museum. Overwhelmed by the amount of Steve that was everywhere. Confused over the multitudes of feeling that were swarming her body.

And there was nothing she could do about any of them. She just had to grin and bear it, just like she's been doing since Steve decided he much rather spend an entire lifetime with a woman he knew for a few months. So Y/N collected herself, blinked away her tears, and left the bathroom. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the one place she didn't want to be.

The exhibit.

Steve's image is plastered on every single surface, telling the details of every part of his life. Scrawny Steve, bootcamp Steve, darling icon of patriotism during the war Steve, frozen Steve, Battle of Manhattan Steve, cartoon Steve punching Hitler, Steve during Sokovia, Steve on the run. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. He covers every single square inch, which makes sense because this is his exhibit. And while Y/N knows she should just turn on her heel and not put herself through it, she throws caution to the wall. She's already incredibly upset, so she might as well pour gallons and gallons of salt and lemon juice into that open wound. So she forces herself deeper into the exhibit, running straight into the very last man she wants to see at this moment.

"You know I wasn't expecting to find you here." Sam tells her as soon as her foot enters the next room. She keeps her mouth shut, so he adds "Rhodey is looking for you."

"You know on his right sleeve of his suits, right near his wrist, he had my initials stitched. He told me he wanted to carry a piece of me into every mission, into every fight." Y/N announces as she looks at a picture of Steve on a mission, most likely taken by Natasha. Sam sighs, walking over to her, wanting her to see his point of view.

"Look I know you're upset-" He starts, but is immediately cut off by a dry chuckle slipping out of Y/N's mouth as she walks around the room. She wants to lay in to him, wants to give him a piece of her mind.

"Oh I am far past the point of being "just upset", Wilson. It wasn't yours to give away. I-I don't care if you didn't want the mantle, but..." Her angry words trail off once she realizes what part of the exhibit she has reached, her face dropping.

Y/N stops in front of a part of the exhibit labeled 'Two Heroes United'. Her eyes roam over the pictures of her and Steve's wedding and the pictures taken throughout the duration of their relationship, so much more than what the file Rhodey had left detailed. So many smiles, so much happiness filling each and every picture. Her facade is cracking, chipping away as she forces herself to study every picture, studying their faces over and over, trying to see if there was something she had missed, if-if there was something she could have said or done to hold onto him a little longer. If there was something hidden behind his smile, behind his touches, they don't reveal themselves in the photographs.

She's just a footnote in his life, a blurb at the end of a long story. A tool to make him look like an all-American family man. Bucky and Sam had much larger parts of the exhibit dedicated to their roles in Steve's life and who they are outside of being Steve's friends. Y/N-well Y/N gets this, a paragraph saying that she was on the team and then married Steve. She is just haphazardly tacked onto the story of his life, a cute story to make people feel all warm inside. He got his happily ever after, they'll say-or they'll whisper to one another God she was so lucky to have him. They won't ask if she got her happily ever after or if she feels lucky now.

Sam got to hand off the shield, got to throw away the title of Captain America. He gets to keep on living his life after this, but Y/N-Y/N will always be Steve's wife. And it doesn't matter how many people she saved or what she did with her time on earth, she will only be know for being the wife of the man who abandoned her. Y/N's tied to him for eternity, stuck loving a man who decided to love someone else.

And then, just like that, something inside of her just snaps. Her facade fully crumbles, leaving her unable to mask what she's going through. Y/N's eyes fill up with tears and she's unable to blink them away before they spill over the edge, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. And as she stood there, crying in the middle of the exhibit dedicated to Steven Grant Rogers, a depressing epiphany popped into her mind.

The shield was the last part of Steve that she had that wasn't tainted in some way, a piece of him that she could still bear to see. And Sam had just given it away, leaving her with nothing but memories that would haunt her.

"I watched your speech. You did really good, Y/N." Her therapist praises, giving her a soft smile. Y/N nods, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She had decided to start wearing it again, even though her feelings about Steve were still conflicted. While a part of her thought that this meant she was healing, Y/N knew it was more likely tied to the fact that Sam had given up the shield.

"It-It felt good." Y/N replies, shifting in her seat. She had thought it was a subtle movement, but Dr. Raynor gave her a look. After a few months of court-ordered appointments, the therapist knew Y/N all too well and she sure as hell knew when Y/N wasn't telling the truth.

"Something is upsetting you. What happened?" The doctor questions, clicking her pen. Y/N dreaded the noise. It meant a longer session, more bandaids being ripped off in order to force the wounds into the light. It would mean she would return to her home a little colder, a little emptier.

"Nothing happened. It-I had a good day. A good week." Y/N tries to reassure her, even going as far as to give her what she thought was a honest smile. Dr. Raynor held up her pad of paper, making a show of slowly bring the pen down to the paper. Y/N's smile falls and she looks down at her hands, letting out a small sigh.

"He-Sam gave away the shield. He gave it away like it was nothing." The ex-hero announces, feeling like a scolded child. Raynor lowers her pen and paper, settling back into her seat.

"And you feel like he shouldn't have?"

"No. No, Steve-Steve chose him. Steve gave him the shield because he knew that Sam was good, that Sam could handle it. And-And Sam just gave it away." Y/N stammers, picking at a thread that was hanging off her shirt.

"You know, I think that is the first time you have said his name aloud." Raynor mentions, causing Y/N to stop her movements. The thread is caught between her fingers, pulled taut. The doctor continues, "You always refer to Steve as 'he' or 'him' or 'my husband'. You never say his name."

"I don't think I was ready to be around...Steve. Not that much." Y/N tries to shift the focus, shame filling her, her face feeling hot. She knows she has her reasons not to say his name, but she still felt terrible about not being able to say his name.

"But you still spoke at the opening of his exhibit. I'm sure everyone would more than understand why you couldn't. So why did you decide on speaking?" The therapist asks, taking down a couple notes of her pad of paper. Y/N stays silent for a moment, letting go of the thread to start twisting her ring again.

"I-I don't know. Rhodey asked me and I-I guess I thought I could do it. And the speech wasn't bad I just-I wasn't expecting Sam to give away the shield." Y/N responds, her voice soft. She feels so small, sitting here on this charcoal grey couch. Y/N almost felt...stupid for being so angry at Sam. It wasn't his fault at all and as Y/N said everything out loud, she felt like such an asshole.

"If you would've known that Sam wanted to give the shield away, would you have stopped him?" Dr. Raynor replies, leaning forward slightly as she takes a few notes. Y/N feels herself sinking into the couch.

"I don't know. I-I wish he would have just told me so that we could've talked about it." She answers, looking out of the window. Dark grey clouds filled the sky, blocking out a lot of the sunlight that wanted to shine down on the city. Y/N didn't know if she would have actually forced him to keep the shield. That wasn't on him to have hold on to hat chunk of vibranium. It was wrong for Steve to have thrown that all on Sam. What would be the alternative? For her to keep the shield? Y/N highly doubted that the United States government would allow that.

Y/N was watering her garden when her phone started to ring in her back pocket. She quickly moves to shut off the water hose before she slips the phone about her pocket. Sam's name and picture appears on her screen, making uneasiness fill her stomach. Y/N exhales through her noise loudly before answering it, holding the phone against her ears.

"Have you seen the news?" Sam asks, not even letting her get a single syllable out.

"No, I've been outside-What's going on, Sam?" Y/N questions, making her way to the house. Something was definitely wrong. Sam never called her unless it was for emergencies. if they did communicate, it was mainly through texting. Her heartbeat started to race, as did her thoughts. A million different scenarios filled her head, each one worse than the last.

"You need to turn on the news right now." Sam replies as she opens the back door, quickly crossing the kitchen and walking into the living room. Her hands are almost shaking as she picks up the remote, turning the television on. Luckily for her, the last thing she had been watching was the news. Unluckily for her, she was greeted with a man holding the shield-Steve's shield, dressed in what looked like an off-brand, shitty version of the Captain America suit.

Anger filled her body. It had been four days tops since Sam handled off the shield and already, they had found their 'new Captain America'. The man in question was smiling smugly in the ill-fitting suit, waving at the camera, holding onto his shield tightly. God, Y/N wanted to beat the shit of the man and every single person who had okayed this. She could only hear bits and pieces of the speech as the news replayed it, but even that bullshit was too much for her to handle. She muted the television, tossing the remote on the couch.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/N exclaims, her hands getting warm. The Avenger was unable to get to anything articulate as rage filled her. She quickly put the phone on speaker, setting the device down just in case her hands caught flame.

"I know. I know. It's fucking bullshit." Sam replies, sighing. Y/N paced in front of the television, trying to calm herself down before she burned a hole through her rug. On the screen, the fake Cap was talking about something, a saccharine smile spread across his face. Y/N wanted to take that God damn shield and smash his teeth in.

"That asshole has my husband's fucking shield. They-He isn't supposed to be Captain America, okay? It's just not-It's not theirs to give away." Y/N's voice cracks towards the end, tears filling her eyes. While she wasn't Steve's number one fan, she hated that they had already chose someone to take up his title. If Sam wasn't going to be Captain America, then no one should be Captain America.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wouldn't have given away the shield if I would've known...I'm sorry." Sam murmurs over the phone. Y/N covers her face with her almost glowing hands as she tries to control her breathing, not able to respond to Sam’s apologies. Her sadness and anger quickly shifted into something else.

Something inside of her switched on, something that she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she was a hero, back when she was an Avenger.

Y/N wanted to go to work.

------

Not A Team taglist (if you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

@lady-elena-adeline @simonedk @hersilencedscreams @rqmanoff

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #tfatws #tfatws spoilers

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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years

Text

➤”I’d like one order of Mando adventure angst with a side of fluff and a dash of spicy bickering. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers flavor (whatever’s on the house) and a nice hot bowl of ‘there was only one bed’

Give my compliments to the chef”

➤ genre: Fluff, Adventure, Comedy(?), Enemies to Partners, Angst

➤ wc: 4.9k (holy shit might be my longest request🥴)

➤ 🌙 Requested: @batarella ❤

"Listen, buddy, I got here first." You attempt to reason with the wall of beskar currently pointing his blaster directly at you.

Maybe not the smartest thing to say when first meeting someone of his reputation, but he can only be doing this for one reason.

He's after the bounty squirming nervously at your feet. And you're in the way.

Why else would he be out here, in the middle of a rocky desert on some faraway planet?

"Step away from him." The voice you hear startles you with its modulated dept. It's more surprising that he even spoke at all, given what you'd heard of the Mandalorian. Although his stature and the silent tension he brings with him is no doubt intimidating, you will not give up so easily after following this bounty so far out from the nearest town. “No.”

His visor tilts to the side, like a frustrated twitch, at your answer. “Maybe.” You rectify, which makes him raise his head in interest. “Do you have a fob?”

“No, I don’t.”

Not that it matters anymore considering yours is broken, but at least now you know he can't follow you if you make a break for it with the bounty.

“How did you find us?”

“I have my ways.” You nearly roll your eyes at his cryptic response, not like you expected anything else from a Mandalorian.

“Do you know why they sent you?” Knowing your employers, you had a clue on what the reason was. They got impatient.

They’d been pretty determined to get a maximum time needed out of you. You’re almost sure you overstepped it.

But to send a Mandalorian? Seems like a bit much.

“They were afraid you’d run off. That you gave the bounty away to the Resistance.” Of course, those bastards can barely trust themselves, let alone a foreigner.

“Well I didn't, and I won't. So you can lower your blaster and we can do this together.” You offer amicably, not yet loosening your grip on your weapon upon his lack of movement.

“You’re out of time. Your deal is off.”

“That’s just-!” You're cut off by a shot buzzing past you.

"Last warning."

Your jaw drops. How can someone be so damn cold?

You raise your finger assertively, about to give him a piece of your mind, when you notice something move by his hip.

And it's green. With gigantic ears. And huge dark eyes that blink at you curiously.

Your head tilts, mirroring the creature. The Mandalorian follows your eyes to find you looking at the child he’s supposed to be caring for.

“Huh. And who is that cutie?” The blaster already pointed at you raises from where it had begun to slouch, alert and cautious. Noticing this, you readjust your grip on your own weapon.

You and the creature continue to study each other, until the Mandalorian pushes the brown bag to where it rests behind his body protectively.

“Are they yours? I mean, doesn't look like the ears would fit.” You speak just to make conversation, stepping closer with miniscule steps. His gloved hand tightens around his blaster, hoping to remind you that he can still shoot you point-blank.

But he hasn't.

"Can you really do much in front of a kid?" You challenge smugly, still advancing slowly.

"He's seen me do worse."

"That right?" Another step. "You planning to shoot me today or would tomorrow work better?"

"Are you always this difficult? Just put the gun down-"

You jump towards him, hooking your foot around the back of his knee which makes him fall to the rocky ground immediately, dropping his blaster. Unfortunately, taking down a Mandalorian is no easy task, so he takes you down with him.

He throws his satchel to the side in the nick of time, it lands on a sand pile. His other arm grabs hold of you to pull you down with him.

You point your blaster at him as he lays beneath you, except it is no longer in your hand. Shit. He punches you in the face hard enough that something will turn black soon enough.

As you fall to the ground he gets on top of you, or tries, as you place your feet against his firm chest to keep some distance. You kick him in the helmet, silently thanking the stars your shoes are steel toed.

Your hand only scrapes against dry, red, sand covered rock as you search for a blaster, either would serve. Despite your momentary advantage in light of the Mandalorian’s confusion after being kicked, his hands quickly come down to cover your throat. You feel the creases in the leather as they’re pressed against your skin, and the beskar over the back of his hands against your chin.

But you still attempt to reach a weapon, a rock would do at this point.

Your arms flail wildly with no real direction, only the need to stay conscious, as if movement would help it. You do, however, notice that he’s purposely avoiding your traquia.

He still does not want to kill you. How sweet. Probably just wants to take you back to the bastards who hired you. They’d surely kill you, and much faster too.

Just as the spots in your vision start becoming overpowering, his grip loosens. You inhale greedily, desperately, gasping and coughing at the released pressure.

You can see his visor move to and fro, searching for something. Once you look to the side, you the child safe in its pile of sand, so it can't be that.

"Dank farrik! He's gone." The bounty. Right. Shit.

"Now," you pause, heaving as your lungs struggle to fill up again, "what?"

He places his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment, before turning his visor to where you lay clutching your sore - but not yet bruised - neck. "I'm going after him."

"I'm sorry-?!" You cut yourself off with a cough as you sit up, feeling grains of sand make their way inside your boots and other places. "You're going after him? This is my bounty! I had him, and I would've been fine if you hadn't shown up."

He keeps his stance, probably glaring disapprovingly beneath his helmet. You huff at his unyielding silence, getting up in his personal space and jabbing a finger into his chest plate.

"I'm about to give you a piece of my mind, so you better listen very carefully. I had it! It was my catch. And from what I can tell, it still is. So you better back off, Mando." Venom drips from your lips as you glare at the tin can on his head as if you could put a hole straight through it.

He relaxes, raising his hands again peacefully, palms up, "Alright, I get it. But do you think they'd take him from you now? Let alone later when you actually catch him? They seem pretty vindictive."

"Well, what do you suggest? You're not going on your own."

"And why not?" He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans towards you.

"You don't have a tracking fob." You retort, leaning towards him as well with your hands on your hips.

The Mandalorian pats himself down where he believes to have stored the small device, only to find all those pockets empty. "You little thief!"

"And you're a liar! Plus, you think I'd just let you take my credits? Come on, with your reputation, you should know better than that." You shrug and suddenly Din is acutely aware that the beeping now comes from your hip instead of his.

"Alright, fine, let's do it this way. We'll look for him together and once we catch him, I'll hand him in and we'll split the reward." He explains slowly, carefully, afraid to set you off.

"Seems good to me." You speak resolutely, thrusting your hand forward firmly, expecting a handshake.

His helmet tilts down slightly as he looks down at your hand, before he reaches out with his own. Just as the leather meets your skin - in a now less life-threatening way - a coo sounds from somewhere at your feet, making you both look down to see the little green creature looking between the two of you curiously.

You look back at it, mirroring it once more, before it smiles wide revealing its tiny little teeth and, oh, your heart might just actually melt.

It's large eyes move down from your face, towards your hands.

You suddenly realize neither you nor the Mandalorian had let go of each other's hand and that a large grin has formed on your face due to the adorable baby. It is promptly wiped off as you pull your hand back just as he does. He looks away while you shrug at the child's inquisitive stare, unaware that the bounty hunter had been watching you and marveling at the bond you'd both formed already.

And so you set out together to look for your target, back towards town, where you had begun your chase.

He can't have gone far or in any other direction, not with the unbearable heat and certainly not while handcuffed. He'd die for sure, you just have to hope he's smart enough to know that.

You walk through town with the fob in your hand, just out of sight. No need for unnecessary attention. The town is tightly crowded, much to your chagrin, so you move slow and are barely able to see over the moving bodies. There’s just too much going on, too many people moving back and forth, shoving past you rudely. If it’d been anyone else - not an experienced bounty hunter - you would have probably been knocked down by the last two men that had scurried past you in a rush.

Without warning, you feel a hand grip your bicep. You immediately ready yourself for a fight, before you realize it belongs to your associate. Once he has your attention, Mando nods towards the edge to the street, against red stone buildings, urging you to follow him. You do, nudging anyone out of the way as you walked against the crowd’s stream.

You’re about to shout over the noise to ask just what the hell he pulled you aside for, considering you’re running out of time, before you follow his visor. Right to a wanted poster of a very familiar scoundrel. From the Resistance? Wanted alive for 8,000 credits?

“That’s one big fish, huh?" You continue to shout in order to be heard over the crowd, which you immediately regret, looking around, paranoid. "Must be important." You comment to yourself.

You look up to see the Mandalorian's back disappear behind the corner. You quickly follow, catching up to his long strides, "What are you thinking?"

He ignores your inquiry, continuing to practically stomp his way through town. "Hey. Hey!" You call out to no avail. Well, you asked for it.

You reach out, grabbing the man by the back of his cape, tightening it around his neck and making it so he had to lean back to follow your hand in order to keep breathing. Your heart beats faster at the rush of power you feel for a moment. "You better tell me what you're thinking, or this is not gonna work."

He taps your hand repeatedly until you let go, rising to his full height and you're back to feeling slightly intimidated as he stares you down, silently.

"I'm thinking that with a price that high you might actually take the bounty yourself."

"Why-?"

The tracking fob. The small object suddenly burned a whole in your pocket.

"Oh come on! You were trying to kill me!"

Your voice raises, arms flailing about. You know you're making a scene, considering this street is so much emptier and therefore quieter than the main one, but for the moment, you don't care. Right now, all you want is to put Mando in his place. Something you know is foolish given that he nearly killed you before and could actually do it this time.

"Yes, but it's still stealing." He spoke with that know-it-all, I'm-better-than-you, tone that just gets on your nerves. Bastard.

You raise a finger in the man's direction, fully intending to continue this conversation and clear your name in his eyes - the reason why is unknown even to you - when a shrill giggle cuts through the air. You look to Mando's hip, where the creature (who's name you have yet to learn) sits, pointing ahead to the entrance to the cantina.

Right at the man of the hour.

What? How?!

The man looks back at you and Mando for a moment, eyes widening as he recognizes you and the fact that this might be it.

Before he takes off running.

You start running before Mando does, easily catching up to the stout man, who's no longer in cuffs. As you get too close to his liking, he takes out a blaster (that you know isn't his) and tries to shoot you in the head. Only to miss and hit your forearm instead.

Hurts like a bitch, but it's better than death.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a steel rope of some kind shoot out and wrap around the fugitive's leg, sending him stumbling face first onto the ground.

Mando walks over to him, barely winded, standing over the panting man and blocking the sun with his body. You can only imagine the man's terrified expression.

You quickly take care of your wound as Mando ties the man up enough that he can't move, wincing as you look at the damage made on your skin. The burning nearly stops the bleeding and it hurts so bad you can barely process it, so you don't think about it, you simply level your breathing while wrapping a cloth around the wound and hope for the best considering it's not too big.

You clutch it to your chest as Mando approaches, pointing at your arm, intending to ask you if you're alright, but you move it to your side before he can. "Are you-"

"We should give him to the Resistance." You speak resolutely, holding back from wincing as your injury rubbed against your pants. It hurt even from beneath a (barely) protective cloth.

“I said ‘we’, so don't you start giving me shit, alright?” You tell him sternly after he crosses his arms, probably getting ready to call you a thief again. “You can't give him to the Resistance because they’ll arrest you, correct?” He nods.

“Well you know bounty hunting isn't exactly legal.”

“You don't have to tell me that, Mando.” You remind him firmly. “So, if we give him to them, we can ask for them to clear your name! And we’ll get double the reward. Two birds with one stone!”

“Do you really think they’d just do that?”

“If someone’s paying 8,000 credits for one guy and specifying they want him alive, then I’d bet they’d do anything to get him, even something as seemingly insignificant as clearing your name.” You explain, gesturing avidly as you do.

A long moment of silence passes before a modulated sigh crackles through Mando’s helmet. “Fine. I’ll go get the Crest.”

“Wait, woah woah woah. Why are you going? How do I know you wont leave me out here?”

“How do I know you wouldn't?” You take a moment to consider his words. He did lie to you, but you did steal from him in a way.

You look down in contemplation, eyes meeting the creature’s. Right, Mando has the kid, who probably isn't fit to be out in this heat for as long as it has.

“He got a name?” You point to the child, who smiles and giggles gleefully.

“Grogu.” You nod, sighing and rubbing your temples. Stars, it’s so hot it feels as if your brain is melting and you can feel a headache coming on.

“You can go. But I want you to swear on your,” You pause for a second, searching for the right word, “honorable code. Swear you’ll come back.”

“You-” The Mandalorian starts, before giving up on protesting at your determined stand, crossed arms and raised chin. “OK, alright. I swear that I’ll come back for you and the bounty. That we need.” He whispers the last part.

“Get to it then. I’m sweating bullets in this heat!”

You sit, back against a nearby rock, searching for as much shade as possible. You don't want to move the bounty back into town for a multitude of reasons, so now you’re stuck just outside of town. Sweat making your clothes stick and it gathers while the headache gets worse and more blood soaks your makeshift bandage, but at least it's silent. That's what you thought about 20 minutes ago, now, you’ve changed your mind.

“The hell did you do to get 8,000 credits on your head?” You ask suddenly, seemingly startling the man who seems to have accepted his fate already.

He sighs, probably just as bored as you, “I have some information they want. That's why they want me alive.” You purse your lips in interest, humming in understanding, before silence falls over you two once more.

Stars, it's hot.

You could cry from relief once you hear the sound of a loud engine getting closer and closer. The 'Crest', as Mando had called it.

You grab the bounty by the shirt, hauling him to his feet rather roughly and shoving him towards the flying hunk of metal that had just landed.

The ship. Mando doesn't come out to greet you.

As the ramp closes and the air is blanketed in a sheet of silence, your mind starts to wander without your permission. You know he has to be handsome under there, what with his broad shoulders and slim waist, deliciously thick thighs and a wonderfully smooth and deep voice that seems to caress your very soul as you hear it. You caught a glimpse of his skin when you pulled at his collar, delightfully tan just begging for you to sink your teeth into it.

Must be the heat. Surely that is the sole reason why you're fantasizing so vividly about a man whose real name you don't know, whose face you've never seen and oh, a man who tried to kill you. But didn't.

Sick of your own thoughts and the loud snores of the bounty, you rise to your feet, climbing the ladder that leads to the cockpit. You wince as you put part of your weight on your injured arm, deciding to climb the rest of the ladder one handed instead.

“Are you decent?” You shout through the thick metal door, hoping Mando can hear you inside the cockpit. When the heavy doors hiss and open, you’re sure he must be.

You sit down in the passenger seat silently, looking up at the stars above for a long moment. The mesmerizing, endlessly dark sky is all that you see at first, from being partially blinded by the fluorescent lights inside the Crest, before the stars come to you, bright speckles that dust the planetary systems all around you. Breathtaking.

You look back in front of yourself to find Grogu already staring at you, head tilted with a smile that shows the slightest hint of tiny teeth. You smile, leaning forward with a raised brow. He leans closer to you, eyes lingering in the side of your face, the one already darkening from Mando’s blow, before dipping down to the arm you hold close to your chest. You let go of it immediately as he does, wanting to shield him from seeing the blood you know can be seen through the cloth.

The child steps closer, as far as he can while up on the dashboard. Mando has to be avoiding you, before he would've seen that movement otherwise.

It reaches out his small hand, squeezing his eyes as tightly as possible while the green limb twitches. You furrow your brows in confusion, what?

The ache on your skin lessens gradually, as if the wound was being lifted from your skin. You can feel it on your arm, it tickles as your skin connects itself around the wound while the burn disappears as if you’d just placed ice over it.

At some point, your eyes close, lulled nearly to sleep by the lifting of the pain, the feeling left behind makes your skin tingle with energy just beneath, your head feels light for a second, as if the blood moved from there down to heal the wounds.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with Mando’s visor trained on your face, silent in a way you can tell he’s speechless. “Eyes on the road, Mando.” You tell him cheekily, voice cracking unexpectedly.

He turns back forward, pausing his steering to pull Grogu forward and away from the edge, before his hands return to the commands. “So, is it far still?”

“No, just a few more hours. The closest Resistance base is just on the next planet.” His fingers flick switches and pull levers, before he seemingly puts the vehicle on autopilot and turns to you. “You can take the cot, you must be tired.”

You blink at him, “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He answers gruffly, not sparing you a glance.

“No, it’s gonna be a few hours, and you’ve been awake for about as much as me so if anyone is taking the cot, it’s you.” You argue back firmly.

He sighs, loosening the cape around his neck as a way to calm himself down, you and your selflessness.

“Alright. No promises that I’ll sleep though.” He acts like it’s a huge burden, as if it pains him deeply.

He takes Grogu in his arms and towards his sleeping nook. The small child smiles at you from over his guardian’s shoulder, and you smile back.

Once he’s safely put away and the bounty checked on, Mando leads you to a space just off the main hull space, where a bed - with the thinnest mattress you’ve ever seen - is pulled from the wall. Oh boy, you can already feel your back aching, but it’s better than sitting in the cockpit on those hard chairs.

So you lay down your weapons while he takes off the bulkiest of his armour. You lay down, curled on your side and away from him, knowing he’ll have to cuddle close to fit. You feel his warmth against your back, but you don't feel his touch quite yet, only the ghost of it. Your gut tightens with pity as you know he can’t take his helmet off. That has to be very uncomfortable.

The lights are dim enough that there is no shadow from your bodies on the wall. You can tell by the space he’s put between you, that he’s about to fall off.

“Are you scared of me, Mando? Can I call you Mando?”

“Sure and no.”

“Which one?” You ask mischievously, smirking to yourself while knowing full well what he meant.

He sighs in exasperation, so you let him be. For only a moment before you're back to being snarky. "Surely you've been this close to another human before, perhaps in a more compromising context."

"Yes and it's usually quieter." You think he might not realize what he just said.

You snort, "Must mean you're doing something wrong."

"That's not-! Just, get some sleep." He says tiredly, giving up on the banter you're pushing. You do as he asks, closing your eyes as you feel the heat of his body move closer to you.

You wake up to a rough whisper of your name and a shaking of your shoulder. Eyes open slowly, squinting against the light shining right at them, before something blocks it and eases your discomfort. The large hand on your shoulder doesn't yet move from its place, gently perched and waiting for you to wake up fully.

You look up to see Mando's helmet over you, seemingly way too close (not that you're complaining), as you can clearly hear him breathe through his modulator. "We're here and we need to talk before you go in."

You follow him to the hull without question, stopping just before the door that leads to it. You rub the sleep from your eyes before blinking up at the bounty hunter, trying to nonchalantly fix your messy hair.

And though he'd never tell you, he thought you looked adorable in that moment. Rosy cheeks, a faraway gaze, lips pursed to hold back a yawn as you brushed down your hair. He was certainly thankful for his helmet in that moment, considering the heat he felt crawling up his neck and settling on his cheeks.

"Plan?"

You clear your throat before speaking, "Right. So, it's easy." You raise a hand to his face when Mando sighs deeply. "Simple, really. I go in, tell them I have the bounty and ask for a little something as compensation along with the credits. See? Easy and simple!"

"Do you think they'll take it?" It doesn't sound as skeptical as you would've expected from him. It's sort of hopeful. Even Mando has to admit to himself that getting chased around and having to avoid and run from x-wings at every turn, got pretty exhausting.

"Let's try it before we start getting doubts." You tell him, determined. "Besides, nothing to lose if you stay hidden, right?"

The planet you landed on is small and green - perfect cover for a Resistance base. You walk along the dirt path leading to it and away from the Crest, coming up to a clearing where you can see the humongous metal doors of the base which seemed to have been dug into a small mountain.

"Stop! State your business." A voice says through a speaker once you get close enough.

"I've come to deliver a bounty!" You keep it simple, no use even attempting to be charming with these folks.

Not long after, the doors part to let someone through, who you presume is a general or something of the sort given their intimidating presence and the flock of guards with their weapons trained on you that follow them.

"We have your credits. Thank you for bringing him to us." You keep your face neutral even as it urges to tremble beneath the pressure of their gaze. You feel the man in question squirm against the arm that grips his bicep. Must really not be a fan.

"That is not all I want." The supposed general, no need to try and figure that out considering you don't want them to remember you more than necessary, raises a delicate brow. "I would like for you to clear someone's name."

"That is not what we agreed on."

"Yes, well, I didn't agree to it myself, so." You shrug, impressed that the general's face remains stone cold, especially considering how much they probably would like to dispose of you given you're dragging out this exchange for longer than what's really necessary.

"You are in no place to make demands." One soldier tells you, pulling out his blaster and pointing it at you, getting more of a reaction from the bounty than from yourself as he flinches.

"Oh, I am in the perfect place to be making demands." You tell him venomously, grip tightening on the man's arm.

"We have you surrounded."

"Just the way I like it." You respond with a wink just to hear the person's stuttering over the modulator on their helmet.

"Very well." The general calls out in order to gain their minions' attention, "Just tell me what name they might be under in our system."

"The Mandalorian. Mando for friends."

Epilogue

"Fuck! Shit, fuck! What was I thinking?!" You yell out in frustration, standing before what remains of your ship, the rest most likely taken by Jawas, who must be long gone by now. "Of course someone would take it apart, why not?! Oh, stars." You wail miserably, crouching into a ball in search of some comfort.

"Hey, it'll be alright. Don't panic." Mando tells you gently after pulling you to your feet and grabbing your shoulders tightly to ground you. "There's two ways we can do this: we go after those Jawas, get your pieces and fix the ship or," Mando hesitates for a moment, fingers drumming along your skin as he turns the words over and over in his tongue until he feels as if he'll get them right once he says them. "you can come with me until you get enough credits for a new one. 4,000 might not be enough yet, but it's a pretty solid start."

His rare optimism brings a small smile out of you and makes your anger settle down almost completely. You'll no doubt have an even deeper hatred for the little shits, but you don't feel as if you'll punch the next living thing you see.

"I guess catching a ride with you can't be so bad, huh, Mando?"

#din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #din djaren #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolarian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #mando x reader #mando and grogu #mando #din

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is-nini · 3 years

Text

Corrupted Albedo x reader

Requested by: Aru/Haru(~‾▿‾)~

A/n: I don't usually make angst..(because i suck at it) but i will try my best and (i suck at writing fight scene too.. but i will try my best). I also will tweak some stuff so it may not be 100% true.

WARNING:

mention of blood, bruise, overall a pretty dark war below..(in my opinion) Please look away if you're uncomfortable or trigger a dark memories.

Half of the Mondstat is a wreck, everything is a mess, covered by blood and Destruction all over. The overwhelming massive power is becoming too much to handle, causing normal humans immune system to slow down as alot of damage started to appear on their body because of the monsters

The red mist covered the whole windrise, springvale and whispering wood as heartless monsters destroy and hurt every living creature they see. The dark sky didn't help the slightest either as it seems like even the sky is against us.

Your body is covered with scars, bruise and blood as you grip your sword harder. Dead and heavily injured body is pooling on the ground in front of you. The screams and despair cries engulf Mondstat.

"Barbatos guide us!".

A hoarse shout from Jean was heard and a breeze of wind flows through you body as your body slowly heals.

"We can do it!".

Barbara shout as she tried her best to heal everyone and hold of the monsters, worries and a pool of tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

"H-help...".

A little voice was heard, you tore your eyes from a certain bright dark red light from behind the mist.

One of the leg of a man was stuck under a rock that one of the monster throw. You instantly run to get him as his body slowly getting engulf by the red mist.

"Y/n! Stay there! I'll help him!".

Noelle shout's, you looked at her in worried as a tear that you didn't even realize was there fall from your eyes but proceed to listen to her anyway. In order to save everyone you need to stop the cause.

Albedo.

You put up a shield around Mondstat, trying to hold everyone safe inside the shield but your geo shield crumbles down instantly when a festering desire sword hit the shield.

The sword that was supposed to be used by Aether has been thrown at the shield.. that means.. where is Aether? He is in danger-! Your breathing gets heavier than before knowing your dearest friend, Aether is in deep danger.

"Where are you going y/n?!".

Diluc shout when he notice you started picking up your pace and running towards the mist but you didn't stop, you keep running and running. Before your whole body is drowned by the sea of mist you stopped and looked back at your friends with tears and determined smile on your face.

"Hang in there!".

Is all you said before you run deep inside the mist, ignoring the calls from people.

"Y/n-! Ugh"

"Kaeya!"

Kaeya was about to run to take you to a safer place but a monster scratch his arm. Venti release his ultimate power, sucking all the monster away from Kaeya as Venti immediately bring Kaeya to heal afterhe shout towards you.

"BE SAFE Y/N". Venti said you just keep running inside the mist. Your leg is aching, how many scars you have now? You don't know and you don't care. Albedo is the only thing you cared. The source to stopped this hideous fight.

I'm sorry

You thought, directing your apologies to your family and friends. gripping your sword harder you slash through the monster left and right, wanting everything to get over with.. wanting a bright future for Mondstat there's so much thing to be discovered and you cannot let the dreams and your friends die. Not now. not ever. As long as you're alive.

When you're inside the mist nothing makes sense, you almost lost your way as monsters coming for you from every side. the only thing guiding you is the bright red light that you detect as a light that erupts from Albedo's corrupted body.

as a bright red light starting to get closer and closer to your eye sight. Your eyes widened, the horrific sight in front of you. Albedo is slowly levitating upwards, bringing Aether by his neck.

"AETHER!".

Aether grip Albedo's veiny wrist as a light emerge from Aether's hand meaning he is slowly purifying Albedo.

A wave of burn suddenly rush throughout Albedo's corrupted body. He suddenly opened his grip on Aether, without wasting anytime you instantly rushed to aether, letting you a geo shield that pushes Albedo backwards a little bit.

You glance backwards to Aether, he slowly stood up, coughing trying to gain the oxygen back to his lungs. You stab your sword to the ground as a geo shield went around you and Aether.

"MoVe Y/n".

Albedo said. You look up at him, eyes wide. If he really is corrupted all the way how can he still know you. You shake your head, staying strong to protect Aether.

"Y/n...".

Aether whisper, looking at you with sadness. You must've felt pain to hurt Albedo, the man you love so much and he is right but for Mondstat and for Albedo himself. You are determined to save both Albedo and Mondstat.

You pulled out a bracelet from your pocket and throw it to Aether.

"Aether.. can you focus your purify energy to this bracelet? If we put this on Albedo he won't be able to get it of".

Once you put this bracelet down on Albedo's wrist he won't be able to pull it out and if Aether fill that bracelet with Aether's purify energy, maybe.. maybe We can save him. You look back to the hurting Aether and whisper to him.

"I'll hold him and you'll purify him okay".

You whisper, Aether nod as you looked back to the now growling Albedo. Albedo released a spear like weapon out of red light and throw them at you. You run out of your shield and dodge them by jumping from one weapon yo another.

Finally reaching Albedo you grab his hair and pulled it as he falls down along with you. You summon a chain out of geo from the ground and hold Albedo by his neck as tears running down your face.

"I'm sorry this will hurt".

You whisper as you felt Aether run and snapped the bracelet on Albedo's wrist. A loud Pained shout was heard from Albedo as he trashed around the chain and dirt. You hold Albedo's hand, pinning it to the ground on one side as Aether held the other.

The veins on Albedo's body slowly fading out as a heavy breathing was heard from him. Slowly but surely his breathing goes down as his red and black eyes slowly closed.

"A-albedo?".

You call out, removing your hand from Albedo's hand, summoning away your geo chain and looked at Aether. You were about to say something when all of the sudden the red mist surrounding you is slowly disappearing. In your mind there's only one thing.

Albedo has been lifted from the darkness.

His dark power is fading away. You turn your gaze back to Albedo and Aether. Albedo slowly sits up, holding his head with a groan. You and Aether cannot hide your excitement so you both just rushed to him, hugging Albedo tightly.

"Y-y/n... A-aether?".

He whispered after seeing your faces. Years of joy is running down your bloody faces. Shout's was heard and a bunch of foot hitting the ground.

"Albedo!"

Shout's from Sucrose, Kaeya, Diluc and the others filled Albedo's ear. He looked around the place.. Everything is filled with bodies, people crying in pain, loosing their loved ones.

Albedo look at his hand.. he did it.. he hurt Mondstat.. he is a monster. Tears are pooling on the corner of his eyes, no one saw Albedo cried until now as a regretful and despair sob comes from Albedo's mouth as his Sobbing gets louder and louder.

Albedo's body is trembling as he looked down to his hand. He suddenly felt a hand, one by one hugging him, without him realizing Sucrose, Venti, Jean followed by Lisa, Barbara and Noelle hugs Albedo.

"I-i-i'm so-sorry-! I didn't mean-".

"It's okay".

Jean assured him.

"We will find a way to fix this mess".

And with that the sky slowly clears out, Albedo's bracelet is locking away all his curse. The sun started to set as you guys bask in eachother's presence Albedo, being basked in the warmth and reassurance from his friend.. and his beloved y/n makes him calm for a little while. Mondstat will never be the same after this, the damage and the event still lingers.

From there Albedo worked 10x harder to find a way to revive people. Albedo asked and beg for the dead to be froze so when the time comes, he will be able to restore them back to life.

Some people forgive Albedo, some people sill hates him.. wich is understandable, some people never really think it's his fault but either way the only thing you care about is that Albedo is safe.. even if he hurts you.. even if he tries to kill you.. you'll still love him with all your heart.

A/n: i feel like there's something lacking on this story.. i deeply apologize if there's any typo.. and mistakes, feel free to leave a criticism please!

#albedo x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin x reader #albedo x reader #albedo x y/n #genshin albedo #genshin fluff

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

Text

Chapter Thirty-Six: How I Did It - By Jack The Ripper

Rated PG-13: For dark themes and language

Masterlist

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

"He's here."

Crossing the Event-Horizon

That's what that's called. I've always thought that's the most beautiful way of putting it. The words have a certain ring to them.

Crossing the Event-Horizon

It means crossing the point of no return. That itself - the point of no return - could mean a lot of things. It could mean the beginning. It could mean the end. It could mean the infinite. It could mean life. It could mean death. It could mean war, peace, happiness, sadness, or anything in between.

But it means one thing for sure.

Crossing the Event-Horizon means there's no going back.

If I had to identify a beginning to the end of my story, then I think that little red dot on the map of time is where I'd stick my proverbial pin. That one little sentence, those two little words.

Yes, it was that moment, I think.

That was when it all started to go wrong.

"Felix is here," I said quietly, "He's outside."

I didn't know what I was going to do to get my revenge from that point. All I knew was, in order to kill Felix, I would need to get to him. And that meant getting away from Jack. Getting away from the son of the devil is something certainly easier said than done.

I would have to do it in a manner which would compel him and the Winchesters to come 'save me'. Of course, I could just knock Jack out and ditch him, but then I would have no back-up if things with Felix went sour. Now, if there was one thing I had learned in the five years leading up to my presence in that lighthouse, it was redundancy. It never hurts to have a safety net. Mine just happened to be a Nephilim.

"You remembered to lock the door, right?" Jack joked. I huffed a laugh. "We're safe in here. Don't worry, Marty. I'll protect you."

Isaac shook his head. "Felix has hostages. Two of 'em." He informed me.

"It's not me I'm worried about," I said to Jack, "This is a hostage situation."

The Nephilim's expression darkened and Isaac rolled his eyes.

"Personally, I say we go on the offensive. I mean, ya boyfriend here has more than enough juice to disintegrate seven dudes, right? Just waltz out there like we own the place, boom, clap, poof, TA-DA!"

"Ya know, that's actually not that bad of a plan," I said, nodding. I relayed the message to Jack who nodded.

"I could do it." He seemed confident.

"Felix brought six helpers. Have you ever dusted that many guys before?" I asked.

"I have, yes. Many more, in fact."

Well, that was... thoroughly disturbing. He seemed so calm about it. As if anyone who stood against him was nothing more than an obstacle. That could be me one day. That could be me tomorrow.

"Alright then, lead the way," I said, smirking.

Is it bad that I hoped something would happen to Jack? Nothing deadly, of course. Just something that would stop him from using his powers to take my revenge for me. Felix was mine. I needed to be the one to kill him. If Jack did it then what had been the point of it all? So, was it bad of me to hope that the quickest, cleanest solution wouldn't be the one that played out?

Was that wrong?

Did that make me evil?

Did I care if it did?

"Everything's going to be fine, Marty. You'll see." And Jack smiled at me softly and I wondered how long that would last.

I found myself standing beside him at the door to the lighthouse. My blood was boiling for a fight because this was it. Felix was on the other side of that door and in a few hours, I would be free, one way or another. Jack turned the handle.

Across the Event-Horizon.

A vampire, a ghost, and a Nephilim stepped out into the muggy night air. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was more the beginning of a new era, at least for me. I stayed mostly hidden beside Jack, maintaining my air of powerlessness. Isaac stepped into place at the Nephilim's other side to match. I could feel the heat of Felix's presence bleeding through the space between us. He carried with him the foul stench of burning tar and just his scent made me want to wrinkle my nose.

He stood about ten feet away from Isaac, Jack, and me, flanked by six other vampires. There was no army, not that I had expected there to be - that wasn't how Felix worked. He didn't need an army, he'd brought two hostages. Two humans knelt on the ground in front of each of Felix's lackeys, poised to die.

Felix's lips stretched into something that approximated a smile but his little ruse was transparent. I could see the hate simmering in his eyes.

"This little game of ours has been fun but a score still stands to be settled and its resolution, I do believe, is long overdue. There is no place left for you to run, child. Are you finally ready to face judgment for your crimes, Martina?" He said. A smile spread across my face to match his.

"Are you?" I challenged, leaving all human emotion out of my voice. I had been so afraid of him before, but that fear was in the past. I had come to witness true power, I had seen it up close and Felix Ashton Monroe was nothing in comparison. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

"I suppose you'll just have to find that out," He said. "Now, I've just had a rather unsavory chat with one Samuel Winchester. Barbarians those boys are - him and his brother. I do so hope you'll remember the manners I taught you and come along like a civilized being."

"Ready when you are," Isaac reported. His Darth Vader figure was tucked safely in my boot and I counted the fact that Felix didn't know about him as one of the few advantages I had. Both Isaac and I knew that in order to keep that advantage my brother would have to suffer through being dragged behind a car via his attachment to the figure to prevent Felix from noticing his presence. We had decided a long time ago that I wouldn't face Felix alone. Isaac had protested against us facing him at all.

It was ironic, really. He was the ghost, yet out of the two of us, I was the vengeful one. See, Isaac had never sought revenge against Felix. The only person Isaac wanted vengeance against was himself. He sought punishment for his failure to keep me safe, to keep any of us safe. I suppose he got his wish. Ever since that night, Isaac remained trapped on earth with what was less of a mission and more of a duty. To keep me alive. If one looked at it properly, that was another advantage. Isaac had been formidable when he was alive, but as a vengeful spirit and with a threat on my life to power him up, Isaac was alarmingly deadly.

I didn't need to send him a discreet nod to acknowledge his words. The two of us had been preparing for this moment for five years. We knew our roles. We knew what we had to do.

"Marty isn't going anywhere with you," Jack cut in, his voice firm.

"You're Jack Kline I presume," Felix said in his usual drawling tone. His voice too reminded me of tar with the way it oozed lazily around his words. Everything about him was so clean and sharp yet somehow it was all horrifically revolting.

"I am, yes." Jack nodded. He was trying to sound confident and authoritative, mimicking Sam or Dean or Castiel. But he wasn't like them, it wasn't in his nature. Jack was too soft. Felix regarded him with a smirk, studying the boy in a calculating manner as if Jack were merely a rare antiquity he was appraising in an effort to determine its value.

"The boy born to rule..." He hummed, drawing out the words almost reverently. "Yer smaller than the rumors describe ye to be."

"So are you," Jack replied, standing up straighter and lifting his chin confidently.

"Oh, I'm afraid not." That slime ball cracked a smile. "I'm much too careful to allow for rumors of my physical appearance to drift beyond my reach."

"Really?" Jack challenged. "Because it seems like Martina found us. She told us everything about you."

Felix just laughed like he was talking to something as insignificant as a flea.

"Do ye never listen, young one? I said I don't allow rumors to drift beyond my reach. Seeing as Martina is standing directly ahead of me, I'd say she is well within my grasp. That which is mine does not escape me, laddie. She knows that better than anyone," Felix said.

"If you're so careful, then why come here yourself?" Jack asked, struggling to remain impassive. He didn't really have a poker face.

"Why, because unlike an amateur I actually quite enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. Especially with a vendetta this personal. Isn't that right, Martina?" Felix taunted. "Will you be coming willingly or not?"

"I said you can't have her," The half-angel forcefully growled. Jack pushed me behind him, shielding me from my creator's gaze.

"Is that so? I was unaware you had a choice in the matter," Felix accosted, seemingly amused. "Were your circumstances not clearly implicit in the situation? No? Very well! If you insist against using so much as a modicum of intelligence, I suppose I'll have to explain this situation to you. See, these dirty, pathetic excuses for intelligent life forms you see trembling before you are called humans, dear boy. I hear you're quite fond of them, and today they are playing the role which we in the criminal world usually refer to as the hostage. Now, their miserable little lives are in your hands, Jack. I am a man of my word thus I will gladly release them, alive and well, upon the prompt return of my property. However, I will not hesitate to rip them both to shreds right in front of you if I don't get my way. Do you understand that , boy?"

Jack didn't respond. He appeared torn between protecting me and saving the lives of the hostages.

"Good," Felix droned, "Now, are you ready to leave, Martina dear?"

" You don't get to speak to her ," Jack snarled. His teeth snapped together with an audible click as he threw his arm out in front of me, not quite ready to give up. Felix rolled his eyes.

"Must we really do this the hard way?" He asked, boredom evident in his tone.

"Yes."

Felix tilted his head and his gaze flicked to me. I could see a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Tell me, lassie. Have you kissed him yet?" He chuckled. Then, abruptly, his expression darkened. "Or is he just that stupid? "

"Who says I did anything?" I replied evenly. Felix huffed, rolling his eyes.

"So you have?" He turned his attention to Jack who just seemed confused. "Did you enjoy it, me boy? If you'll recall, I did wish you a very exciting first, did I not?"

"Marty, what's he talking about?" Jack asked, doubt wavering in his voice. I didn't answer him. Felix was taking a chisel to the wall I'd built in that boy's head. Not causing enough damage to send it crumbling, but planting enough doubt for it to hurt even worse when it did.

"Ah, my devious little Martina," Felix sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "You're as predictable as you are appallingly cruel."

"Guess I learned from the best," I hissed, glaring at him.

"Does that mean you'll be sensible?" He asked, raising a brow.

"You're not taking her!" My angel boy yelled. "She's mine. " A shock ran through my bones as Jack's powers ignited and his metaphysical wings spread out in front of me in a terrifying reminder of what he truly was.

Felix didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled.

"That's cute," He said, gesturing to Jack's massive wings. Then, he straightened the cuffs of his suit and sighed. From out of his pocket he retrieved a box of matches, pulling one out and striking it. He tossed the match lazily in front of him, the reflection of its tiny flame dancing in his eyes.

The match hit the sand and flickering orange flames erupted from where it landed. The fire spread outward in a ring that encompassed the entire lighthouse, trapping me, Jack, and Isaac inside.

Jack hissed through his teeth as he watched the flames die down. They were low enough to pass easily through, so how were they supposed to contain us?

"In case ye can't tell, that there is holy fire," Felix informed, tucking the matches back in his pocket. "Any angel who finds themselves encircled by holy fire is rendered powerless, and if one tries to step through those flames, one will be instantly vaporized." He looked up again, unimpressed. "Don't get smart with me, boy . I am thousands of years your senior. I'll do with that disgusting whore whatever I damn please."

"No, you won't !"Jack yelled. His wings flared out and a blazing golden light poured from him like molten metal. The air buzzed with a divine power that burned my skin from standing so close. He was like sunlight, and it burned. I cowered away but watched in awe as Jack's veins lit beneath his skin as if gold were pumping through them instead of blood. Because that's what Jack Kline was. He was power. With a sudden ferocity, the flames leaped up, roaring around his body in an effort to keep him trapped inside. But Jack did the impossible and stepped beyond the ring with a cry of effort.

Felix did not cower away as his underlings did; he merely tilted his head with slight interest.

"How intriguing," He mused, folding his hands in front of him. "Tell me, lad. How did you manage that?"

Jack glared at Felix, his chest heaving, for I could tell that act had caused him pain.

"I'm not an angel."

Jack raised his hand, poised to snap the monsters all into dust.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Felix half-heartedly warned.

"Why not?" The Nephilim ground out.

The vampire smiled coolly. "Because these fine specimens here are not my only hostages." Of course, he had more. He was always prepared.

"Where are the others?" Jack demanded, eyes flaring.

"They're safe and sound, I assure ye. Unless, of course, you try to do somethin' stupid, such as kill me. If that's the case, and I do hope it's not, then my people have orders to do some rather unsavory things to a room full of children." Felix raised a brow, daring Jack to make a move against him.

"I can save them," Jack said, confident.

"Please! Ye don't even know where they are!" He scoffed. "Do what ye must, Jack Kline. But I really do fear for the children." Jack gritted his teeth but said nothing. He knew he was beaten. "That's better." Felix turned his attention to me. "Give up this pitiful act of yours, Martina. Come on out. You know this is checkmate."

I stepped away from Jack and stood tall, allowing the thing that had made me to see the steel in my eyes. I passed Jack and planted myself in front of Felix.

"This isn't checkmate, Monroe. This is merely check. I'll be damned before I walk into something with no way out, you know that better than anyone." My voice was calm and cool and I let it chill him. It was my real voice, not that other one I always used to put people at ease. My real voice was the one that makes people do what I want.

The corner of Felix's mouth twitched up. "Oh, yes. I know." He leaned down, his face merely an inch away from mine. "I'm looking forward to it."

"So, where's the car?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Right this way, m'dear." He gestured towards the dirt road a ways away and started toward it. I began to follow but Jack's voice made me stop.

"You're a monster," He spat, shaking with rage. His pained expression had morphed into one of hatred and his glowing golden eyes fixed on Felix.

Felix twisted around, mildly amused more than anything.

"Empathy, humanity, and morality make you weak, boy. Alas, weakness is a bitch , isn't it?" He smirked, basking in the pain he caused.

"I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!" Jack screamed. His power flared with his anger but there was nothing he could do. The absolute helplessness and hopelessness of his situation finally dawned on him. He never could stand feeling helpless.

"Hold on, I'm confused. Is that not what you do ?" Felix jeered, lifting a brow. Jack froze, his eyes going wide and puppy-like as the vampire's words hit him in the heart. His rage and power dimmed.

"W-What?" Poor thing. His voice sounded so small. He had never been made for this.

"You're the Winchester's attack dog, are ye' not?" Felix clarified. "Playing judge, jury, and executioner for anything you deem a monster."

"You are a monster," Jack scowled, clenching his fists.

"Oh, I know that!" Felix laughed. "But I like to think I've done quite a bit to earn me that title. There are, however, six quite innocent and quite human patients in critical condition at a Manhattan hospital. Six patients, who you put there. Those weren't monsters now, were they?"

Jack's face paled. Sam and Dean had said everyone was fine. Sam and Dean had lied. "H-How did- How did you-"

"That was some stunt you pulled in Times Square, boy," He mused. "Did you really think I wouldn't know about it?"

"Th-that w-was... I-it wasn't... I didn't mean to I-" Jack shook his head in denial. "It was an accident!"

"Why, of course it was!" Felix laughed. "You've not a malicious heart nor the disposition to take an innocent life. Dear boy, you are but a loaded gun for the Winchesters aim at anything they don't like."

Jack shook his head. "T-that's not true! I kill things that are evil because they hurt people." His words sounded hollow like they were something practiced. Like something that had been pounded into him.

"Do ye now? Because as I recall, you killed your own mother and ye' don't even know why. Sad, that." Felix smiled. "You kill because you were bred to; it's your purpose. It's almost cute, the son of the devil thinking he's a hero."

"I am ! I'm a hunter!" Jack insisted.

"You are not a hero," Felix sneered, shaking his head. "You are a murderer, Jack Kline. What else could ya be?" The Scottish man turned on his heel, not caring much to hear what the Nephilim had to say.

"Y-you're wrong. You're wrong about me!" That was all Jack could force out. He tried so hard to keep the tears at bay. I shook my head and turned away from him to follow my creator. "M-Marty?" Jack called out from behind me, his voice laced with desperation and confusion.

I stopped.

In that moment, I finally stripped away the final pieces of the human girl I'd made for him. The girl I'd designed for him to love. Jack would never see her again. That girl was gone now. And good riddance to her; I hoped she'd never come back.

Because she was weak.

And I was not.

Because she was human.

And I was a monster.

Because she was kind.

And I was cruel.

Because she was innocent.

And I was insane.

Because she was honest and grateful.

And I was a deceitful manipulator.

Because she was the blissful mirage.

And I was the horrid reality.

Because she was perfect.

And I never could be.

Because Jack Kline loved that sweet girl.

But that girl wasn't ME.

She never had been.

Of course, I still loved him which only made this harder. But I supposed that in a few hours that would be of no consequence. He wouldn't care. And that fact hurt like a needle to the heart, but pain only brings power to those with nothing left to lose. So, I threw my head back and I laughed as I embraced that pain, just as I did for every other cut and bruise I had ever received. That needle was one in a million and all that pain was what made me real. So, I sighed and turned back to where my angel boy stood, staring at me like some lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I said sweetly, "Thanks for getting me this far, I don't think I could have done it without you. Unfortunately, this is something I have to do on my own. This is my last page and nobody can write it for me."

"You can't go," He said, shaking his head. There were tears in his eyes but none in mine. I smiled at him and that was the first he'd seen from me that was real, because, for the first time, Jack was talking to me.

"Why are you worried, Jack?" I was surprised at how smooth and pleasing my own voice sounded, now that I took notice. My real voice was why I was dangerous; when I used it I could make anyone do anything. But there was a reason I had been masking it for so long. It was what had gotten me into this in the first place. "I know you'll come to save me."

"What if I'm too late?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"Then I'll be there waiting for you," I answered.

"You'll die," Jack whispered. I laughed lightly, shaking my head.

"I'm not going to die today, Jack."

"You don't know that!"

"I've known for longer than you think," I said. I watched his teary, desperate expression and copied it to my memory as best as I could. It was the last time he'd look at me that way. At least for a while. "Just do me one last favor?"

"Anything," Jack promised.

"There's a girl you haven't met yet, try not to hate her when you do." I smiled and Jack nodded, trying his best to stay strong.

Then I left him there.

Alone in the sand, he watched a stranger he thought he loved going to what he thought was her death and vowed to save her from it.

Was it wrong for me to deceive him?

Did I care if it was?

***

Sam paced back and forth along the length of the lighthouse as he waited for Dean and Castiel to return. Every few minutes or so he would check his watch anxiously and run a hand through his hair, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before he resumed his pacing.

But Jack wasn't paying attention to that. He was busy staring at his hands. There were too many thoughts racing through his head for him to focus on any one of them. It had all happened so fast and there was nothing he could have done, but it didn't feel that way. Jack felt responsible. Martina was going to die because of him. It was his fault.

It was always his fault.

The door of the Lighthouse burst open, revealing Dean and Cas standing there in the driving rain that had come on before anyone had time to notice. Dean threw himself inside and Cas trailed after him, taking the time to close the lighthouse door while Dean shook the rain off like an oversized dog.

"What took you so long?" Sam was immediately questioning. "Where were you?"

"Gettin' information," Dean smirked. "It took a while, but one of the bloodsuckers squealed. What happened here, Jack?"

"I kissed Martina," Jack blurted out.

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Cas asked in unison, sharing the same disbelieving expression.

Jack hadn't meant to say it but it just sort of came out. It probably wasn't his fault, though. Jack simply couldn't stop thinking about every detail of his time with the girl in the lighthouse. He wanted to focus on what had happened after, but his brain simply wouldn't cooperate.

"I, um... I kissed Martina..." He repeated, somewhat nervously. "And I think I liked it..."

Had he liked it? Jack thought so; he was pretty sure. But something about it felt off.

Why had he kissed her in the first place? What had compelled him to do that? Jack didn't know.

His memories of the kiss were strange. He remembered clearly the emotions he'd felt, and the intensity of them. Yet, for some reason, Jack couldn't seem to recall where those feelings had come from. He had wanted to kiss Martina, but not like that... Or... maybe he had? It felt to Jack as if the decisions he'd made weren't his own. He couldn't even remember making any decisions, really. All he remembered was those feelings and acting on them. Something about that seemed off to him but Jack wasn't sure. He supposed it wasn't that out of the ordinary for him to behave impulsively. On the contrary, he tended to do that quite a lot. So, what was bothering him?

"Wait..." Dean paled, "You and Marty... You- You two didn't, like... do it in a lighthouse, right?"

Jack tilted his head, brows furrowing. "Do what?"

"C-Cas?" Dean's face whitened another shade as he turned to the seraph. "Please tell me your son didn't-" Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh.

"No, Dean. I really don't think they did anything," He said, rolling his eyes.

"Not everyone is like you," Sam added. Dean waved him off.

"Yeah, okay, but why am I the only one gettin' weirded out by this?" He exclaimed.

"Because we have bigger problems, Dean!" Sam pointed out, exasperated. Sam seemed anxious and Jack wondered what he wanted to tell them.

"Well, I think this is pretty big!" Dean insisted, turning to Jack. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I don't understand what you mean. Martina and I kissed." Jack said simply.

"Dean, seriously. I-" Sam tried. Dean held up a hand, sighing.

Dean sighed. "Jack... Y-You don't do that."

"Dean! Listen-"

"Not now, Sam!" Dean cut him off again.

"Why not? Jack asked, frowning.

"Look, ya just- Ya gotta wait a little while, man!" Dean said, running a hand over his face. "I mean, Marty's like, twelve!" He insisted. By then, Sam had decided he'd had it.

"No, Dean! She's really not!" The younger Winchester yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?" Dean was shocked by his brother's sudden outburst. Sam took a deep breath to calm himself now that he had everyone's attention.

"Martina's not as young as we think she is. I-I think she's older, m-much older." Sam said, stress leaking into his tone.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Cas asked.

"I'm saying we've been played."

***

The car ride was smooth and it was the first time I'd been in a limo, so naturally, I took the comforts offered me. I stretched out across the seat, lounging as I stared out the tinted window. I didn't worry about Felix sitting directly across from me. I knew he didn't want to kill me. Not yet anyway.

"I'm curious, how did you manage to fool them?" He asked, watching me with a comfortable expression.

I shrugged. "Long story, lots of boring details."

"Indulge me," He insisted.

"Why should I?" I asked. He shrugged, mimicking me.

"I'm simply curious."

I hummed. "I bet you are."

He smirked. "Well, what can I say? It's just my nature." I nodded vaguely, continuing to stare out the window. We both knew how this would end. There was no real reason not to tell him.

"Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel..." I said their names thoughtfully, allowing the corner of my lips to twitch up into a sly smile. "They seem so simple at first glance. You have the poor unfortunate soul who lost so much yet kept his kindness, the perfect killer who spent his whole life at war, and the fallen angel who found a home. But if that was all there was then I never would have fooled them. However, for men who claim to be so faithless, there's so much they want to believe in."

"Whot do ye mean?" Felix asked, tilting his head. I smirked lazily. T

"I'll start with Sam. Sam is kind because he's damaged, but the last thing he is is a fool. When someone's good at unraveling lies, the last thing you do is give them a really big one to unravel. If you do that, then they'll cut right through and they'll figure you out easily. So, what do you do? You give them distractions. Hide puzzles within puzzles and Sam will stop to solve each one because he loves it. But how do you get him to ignore the big picture?" I stopped and grinned.

"It's easy really. All I had to do was appeal to his hate. Sam Winchester is so extraordinarily full of such raw and powerful hate, that if you simply aim it at a conceivable target, he can ignore anything else. And of course, with his hate blinding him to the truth, Sam can't figure out the lie. All one has to do to fool Sam is give him a puzzle to solve and something to hate.

"So, I made him hate you."

***

"How?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"It's Marty. We can't trust her," Sam said. Dean scoffed

"After all that lecturing earlier? Why the hell not?" He demanded. Sam took a nervous breath.

"Because she's been lying to us, Dean," He said. "I-I think she's been lying to us this whole time."

Dean's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about, Sam?" His voice was tight and guarded.

"I talked to Felix after I saved the little girl," Sam admitted.

"You just stood there and talked to that son of a bitch! He's a sick, messed up, psychopath! Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean yelled. Sam held out his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"I know w-what he is, Dean. A-and, believe me, I thought the same things you are now and I swear it was over the phone a-and all he did w-was tell me things. But-" Sam hissed through his teeth and tugged at his hair, seemingly at war with himself.

"But what, Sam?"

"I don't know. He- he just-"

"You don't know?!" Dean interrupted accusingly.

"H-He said things, alright! Felix told me things. Things about Marty. A-and they- they made - They just made so much sense! And I hate him just as much as you do and I don't wanna believe him but-" Sam's voice faltered and he shook his head seeming lost.

"What did he tell you?" Castiel pressed, gentle but still firm.

"He told me Martina killed his wife."

***

"Now, Dean? Dean's a little harder," I said as the driver made a sharp left-hand turn. "Dean's not just a hardened killer, though that's mostly what he wants people to see. He wants people to see the machine without a heart so no one will see how horrifically broken he really is." Thinking of what Dean was really like made me laugh and I flicked my gaze at Felix. "And believe me when I say that there's nothing that could fix him by now."

"But there's so much more to him than the killer and the brokenness. Dean's the righteous man who's never known a day away from war. There are so many things he wants so desperately. Dean dreams of walking peacefully along a beach yet he's never even been to one. For all he's never had Dean tries to give it to others. For all the blood and death he's seen he's remarkably full of love. Love is the key, really. Dean Winchester loves more powerfully than anyone I've ever met. If Dean loves someone he'll do anything for them.

"He sees my age and sees in me the child he never was. He sees me afraid and wants to provide me the protection no one gave him. He sees me flinch when someone yells and wants to offer me the security he never knew. He sees an orphan and wants to give me the parental love he never had. All one has to do to fool Dean Winchester is give him a child to love.

"So, I made him love me."

***

"And you believed him?" Dean scoffed. "Marty is a kid, Sam! She's a kid! Just a scared kid who needs our protection! Marty never could have done something like that."

"Why not?" Cas spoke up. All eyes snapped to the angel.

"BECAUSE SHE'S A KID!" Dean roared. Jack flinched away from him, he'd always hated when Dean yelled. It scared him. Though, this time Dean sounded less angry and more desperate. As if there was something he didn't want to believe. As if yelling the words would make them true.

"T-that's what I thought too. But what if we're wrong?" Sam asked.

"How could we be wrong?" Dean demanded.

"What if Marty's not a kid?" Sam carefully spoke, "What if she's not human?"

Dean shook his head. "No," He said, "No, you're wrong. I know what you're thinkin' and you're wrong." Jack shook his head too. There was no way... was there? Something itched at the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was. Did he want to?

"Dean, I know this is hard to accept, but we need to think this through," Sam said, holding his hands out beseechingly.

"We don't have time for that!" Jack spoke up. "Felix is going to kill Marty! We can't just let her die!"

Sam held up a hand. "He's not gonna kill her, not for a while. We have time."

"No, you don't get it! I promised I'd save her!" Jack said.

"Exactly!" Sam pointed out. "Jack, that's exactly what she wants! She's been planning this the whole time."

"What do you mean 'the whole time'?" Dean inquired, crossing his arms.

"Think back to the beginning, w-when we first met Marty," Sam said, walking them through it. "Why were we in Copper Harbor?"

"For a ghost hunt," Jack answered, impatience leaking through his tone.

"You're right, but there was another case there. What was it?"

"Blood was being stolen from the hospital..." Cas said slowly as if remembering.

"Exactly! Exactly." Sam took a breath. "Now, that ghost in the viral video, who was it? Was it whoever's bones we burned?"

"No, it was..." Jack made the connection. Why hadn't he noticed that before? "It was Isaac."

"Okay, so that means..." He trailed off.

"That Marty was lying about the hunt and the bones," Cas finished.

"Right, now why would she do that?"

"I dunno, professor. Maybe so we wouldn't torch her brother?" Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam pursed his lips, sighing. "Well, yes, b-but no! This isn't about Isaac, this is about Marty. What would she have been hiding?"

"The blood theft," Cas said decisively. Dean shook his head.

"That's a coincidence. Marty can't be - She can't-" He couldn't even say it. He could hardly think it. "Marty can't be a vampire."

***

"Castiel was harder," I continued. "Aside from the fact that he's a multi-billion-year-old cosmic being, Castiel also lacks a soul. That made tapping into his emotions significantly more difficult, but once I did that it was quite clear that I could never fool him. At least, not directly. He's intelligent, not easily deceived, and he always tries to do what he thinks is best. Whatever that course of action might be, more often than not, it hasn't been the right one.

"Castiel is, primarily, a screw-up. There's a lot of history and even more drama involving his fellow angels and the Winchesters, and he has consistently attempted to fight for both sides of the war between them. His torn loyalties have caused a great many more problems than they've fixed and it seems as though any attempt to fix one of said problems breeds yet more chaos. Castiel is rebellious. He can never seem to do what he's supposed to. So, naturally, that makes him the most dangerous piece on the board.

"When Castiel sets his mind on something, there isn't much that can sway him. His actions have proven, repeatedly I might add, that he is even willing to go behind the backs of the Winchesters if he believes it's for the greater good. But his destructive pattern stops only for the one person he's never betrayed. Thus, to fool Castiel one has to fool his son.

"So, I got my hands on Jack."

***

"Why not?" Cas snapped.

"'Cause she just can't!" Dean's voice broke.

"She single-handedly killed five vampires, Dean! Remember?" Cas pressed. "There's no way a mere child her age could have done that."

Jack shook his head, refusing to believe it. "Marty can't be a vampire. Dad, she just can't be."

Castiel sighed, his eyes soft. "I know you want to believe that."

"Why shouldn't we?" Dean challenged.

"Because she killed five vampires single handedly! What part of that escapes your understanding?!" Cas repeated with frustration.

"We don't know what happened in there!" Dean persisted.

"Exactly! WE DON'T KNOW!" Cas yelled.

"THEN WE CAN'T ACCUSE, CAN WE?" Dean shouted back. Jack flinched again and Cas took notice, forcibly relaxing his posture in hopes of reassuring his son.

Sam groaned. "Look at the facts, Dean. The research!"

"Damn the research, Sammy! This is Marty! We know her!"

"We know she's an empath!" Sam spat. "She's been playing with all our emotions, we know that! We need to look at this objectively and, as hard as that might be, it means looking at the facts!"

"What about the facts?" Dean asked reluctantly.

"Think about it," The younger brother said. "W-we did the research, remember? Remember how none of it lined up?"

"Yeah, because Felix messed with it!" Dean tried.

"Not all of it," Sam pointed out, "Marty said she was nine when she died, but her youngest brother was ten. Remember that? How could she have been younger than her youngest sibling?"

"Sam, that-"

"Because she wasn't, Dean," He hissed, "She wasn't nine. Marty was sixteen."

"I-I remember..." Dean froze, his eyes flicking up to meet his brother. "Sammy..." He said, his voice tense and shaking, "How did I forget that?"

Dread coated Castiel's tone as he answered instead.

"I think she wanted us to."

***

"Jack is a very special boy," I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. "Although, he is the offspring of a fallen archangel, so I'd assume that 'special' comes rather naturally. Thanks for that clue, by the way. It would have taken me much longer to figure him out if it wasn't for that itty bitty little detail."

"You would have gotten it regardless." Felix shrugged.

"Of course I would've!" I snorted, shaking my head. "I didn't think my abilities were of any question."

"They weren't," Felix replied. "I know what you're capable of, lassie."

I smirked devilishly. "You should." Felix's hand clenched into a fist and he sent me a tight smile.

"Indeed." He forced the word through his teeth. "Which is why I'm surprised you enlisted to lie to that boy so completely. Doesn't that violate whatever moral code of Donoghue's it is that you've adopted?" I nodded and shrugged with a sigh.

"You're right, it does. Jack is in many senses young and vulnerable and on top of that, he's dreadfully naïve. He could never deserve what I did to him." I huffed out a humorless laugh as my face twisted into a sneer. "But you do. So I made an exception."

Felix shook his head as if disappointed. "Now, now, Martina. When one has a goal, one does not make exceptions. Lest they desire to fail, of course. Only hypocrites make exceptions. Did I teach you nothing?"

"I'm not like you," I spat.

"Is that what it looks like from where you sit?" He mused quietly. I flashed him a barred toothed grin and continued.

"There's only one that Jack Kline truly wants in this world. He wants to be good - to prove to himself and those around him that despite his parentage, he can be good. He's been told that there's something wrong with him, so he wants to find a way to somehow purge it. But he can't because there's nothing wrong and there never was. Yet, he can't believe that. So it leaves him with an insatiable desire to please.

"It's pathetic, really. He seeks validation in everything. He thinks he has to be useful to be loved. Otherwise, he's just a burden, one that nobody wanted. Jack doesn't want to believe that; he wants to be told that isn't true. Jack Kline may be powerful but he's also soft - moldable if you will. See, he's so haplessly needy that it's honestly sickening. He'll do anything for you to tell him what he wants to hear. And he'll do anything to keep hearing it.

"Jack is a combination of his three guardians. He's desperate. Like Dean, he doesn't want to see what's right in front of him. But he's not stupid. I had to erase his memory more than once. Then, like Sam, I simply distracted him and, much like Castiel, I had to keep him in line by appealing to that insatiable need of his. To fool Jack Kline one has to give him someone to save.

"He thinks he's saving me." I smiled fondly when I'd finished, glancing up at Felix with a challenge in my gaze.

"Well, we both know that's impossible," He said, eyeing me with a smirk, "There's nothing left in that cold shell of yours worth saving." I grinned, showing him the insane thing he'd created.

"You're damn right."

***

Then, like a memory, there were words running through Jack's head. Words and voices, but he didn't remember hearing them.

'You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!' That was his voice in his ears. But Jack couldn't remember saying those words. 'You haven't aged a day... Five years and you haven't aged a day.'

'I aged about a month, actually.'

The other voice was Marty. The words buzzed like static, making his headache. Jack shook his head. It was like Deja Vue but entirely more vivid. Sam, Dean, and Cas kept talking. It was hard to hear them through the ringing in his ears.

"Cas, are you saying she can wipe memories?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Castiel replied, shaking his head. "But she can certainly suppress them."

"But it-it must only work when she's around b-because when she's gone - I know for me - When Marty's not around I-I start to remember," Sam said.

The ringing in Jack's ears intensified, making him groan and grasp at his head. He clamped his hands over his ears but the ringing only grew louder. It was like angel radio, but instead of being surrounded by fire, Jack felt like he was burning from the inside out.

"Jack?" Cas was calling his name. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't- I-" Jack gasped, the pain growing stronger. "It hurts! Dad, please make it stop!"

"Jack? JACK!"

He stumbled into Cas's arms as another blurred memory hit him like a train.

'I'm gonna need you to forget that,' Marty's voice whispered in his head. She sounded so gentle, so inviting. She sounded like a spider.

'I wish I could,' His own voice shook as Jack listened to himself say words he couldn't remember speaking. It felt like a memory that didn't belong to him.

There was more to it this time. There was a picture frame, but the picture inside was out of focus. There was an image. It was Martina. She had fangs. And there was something else too. Jack could feel it like a phantom pain. It was terror. The paralyzing kind. The feeling of being trapped. Jack felt the shadow of limbs and he couldn't move. He was trapped. Jack couldn't get out. He was trapped like a fly in a web. Marty was the spider. He couldn't get away. He couldn't get away from her.

She wouldn't let him.

'I can make you forget,' She was going to hurt him. ' Take us back to the night we met. '

'What do you mean?' His voice asked cautiously. He was scared. He was so scared. He couldn't get out.

'I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was.'

'You're a monster.' He'd said

The ringing in Jack's ears faded and he bolted upright, gasping and shaking as panic set in. He needed to tell Sam, Dean, and Castiel what he'd remembered but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"S-She lied." That was all he could force out.

"Jack, what happened? Are you okay?" Castiel worried, checking over him. Jack just shook his head.

"She did something to me," He choked out, shaking. "I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember? She did something to me!" He felt sick. There was something wrong with him.

No.

There was something wrong with Marty.

She was sick.

"What? What did she do?" Dean demanded, eyes wide.

"She-She made me forget. I knew. I-I knew and she made me forget!"

"Forget what?" Sam asked.

"I figured her out a-and she made me forget but I remembered." Jack stopped and only then did he realize he was crying. "She's one of them."

Because she had betrayed him. Marty had betrayed all of them. Jack didn't even know what to believe anymore. Had any of it been real? Or was it all some twisted lie?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Cas offered quietly.

"You were right, Sam," Jack whispered. He couldn't stop his voice from shattering. "Martina is a monster. A-And she lied."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Dean spoke up. Because someone had to take the lead and it was always him. It wasn't fair, but it was always him.

"We gotta go," He said, struggling to make his voice sound cold and firm. But he'd lost a daughter today.

"W-Where?" Sam asked.

"Me and Cas know where Felix is taking Marty. That kid's got some answering to do," Dean answered, his green eyes darkening with his tone. Castiel stood, helping Jack climb to his feet.

"Martina is dangerous, Dean. Are you sure you're willing to do what may be necessary?" Cas asked, watching Dean with a somber expression.

"It's not gonna come to that," Dean said.

"And if it does?"

"I will." Jack's voice was quiet but it caught the adult's attention.

"Jack, are you- Are you really sure?" Cas asked gently. Jack shook his head.

"I don't want to kill Martina. But you're right, she is dangerous." His voice faltered. "I can't let her hurt anybody else."

***

Felix's limo pulled into the garage of what was easily a multi-million dollar home. It was four stories and it reminded me of a castle with its dull grey stone and tall windows. The interior of the garage was constructed simply of polished cement and was entirely empty aside from the car now parked within it. I sent Felix a smirk and climbed from the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind me. The car was surrounded. Twenty or so of Felix's vamps stood guard but I knew they were more for display than anything else. Some of them I recognized, some I didn't.

"And here I thought this little girl's night was just gonna be you and me," I huffed dramatically upon seeing them, "You had me feeling all special."

"Sorry to disappoint, Lassie," Felix drawled. "But don't worry, I invited some of your friends too. Well, just one to be exact."

I shot him a curious glance but shrugged before sauntering my way past Felix's lackeys like I owned the place. I supposed I had, but that was so long ago. Were his minions really still so afraid of me? I surveyed one of the vamps as I passed him, taking notice of the bead of sweat dripping down his neck. He was clearly terrified.

So, they remembered who their queen was. Good.

Spinning on my toe like a ballerina, I let a bubbling laugh escape my throat. All of Felix's soldiers turned to face me, watching with careful eyes.

"Hello, Lovelies!" I called, grinning. A few of them shifted nervously. "Just thought you all should know, both your beloved Prince and Princess are dead! I killed them!" Murmurs spread around the empty garage, echoing off the polished grey walls. "That's right! Boyd's head I ripped off with a tractor, though I'm sure your leader was glad to finally be rid of his bastard son." I glanced at Felix who stood there stoically and winked. "I knew about that, by the way. As for Elwyn, I had the Devil's son snap her into dust like Peter Parker in Infinity War. 'Cept she ain't comin' back!" I giggled in reaction to the horrified expressions of Felix's soldiers and send the man himself a smirk before whipping around again.

"Ye know, Martina?" His voice made me pause though I kept my back to him. "I look at you and I don't see anyone looking back..." He trailed off, his tone thoughtful. "Where is that soul you used to have?"

"Just like I told your daughter, I lost it in the woods in favor of something else. You wanted me to learn something and I learned it!" I eyed him over my shoulder. "You never should have sent me there."

"I know that now." Felix sounded almost solemn. "Whatever Sampson brought back with him wasn't the girl I tossed in, was it?"

I shrugged. "That's where you're wrong. It's still me. Like I said, I just learned something over there is all."

"And what did you learn?" He wondered.

"That you were wrong."

"It doesn't seem I was," He said. I chuckled softly.

"You said I was made to be a queen. You were wrong."

"Aye?"

"I'm not a queen, Monroe." I turned to face him. "I'm a damn Empress." I grinned. "And, honey, you should see me in your crown."

I didn't bother to watch his expression. I just turned and walked.

Pushing my way through the garage door, I skipped down a long, dark hallway decorated with dark wooden pieces that I was sure had cost more money than they were worth. I smirked upon hearing Felix's footsteps trailing behind me. Whirling around and walking backward, I grinned at my former torturer.

"Got anything you didn't wanna say in front of your minions?" I taunted.

"I do, actually." He huffed a laugh that held no humor. "For the record, I'm sorry."

My expression soured. "No you're not."

"I am, truly." He placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "I apologize for my greed and my stupidity. I unleashed you upon this world; that will be my greatest regret, I think. I made you into a plague and I lost control over you."

"You never controlled me," I hissed.

"And I the second I realized that I should have put you down," Felix said. "I just hope the Winchester's don't make the same mistake."

I shook my head. "That's the think, Felix. They will."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll find out, won't I? So! Where's this friend of mine?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Two doors down on your right," Felix answered. I glanced at the door he was referring to then back to him.

"Ooh, goodie. Before I open it, why do I get a present?"

Felix shrugged. "Call it a joke."

I nodded. "Dope."

Then I skipped over to the dark wooden door and grasped the handle. It wasn't locked, of course, so I pulled it open. I didn't look for traps. I knew Felix would never stoop that low. The room was pitch black and there were no windows, but I found the light switch easily enough. Bright fluorescent bulbs flicked on and washed the space with light.

Sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, was a rather muscular man. His arms and legs were tied to the chair and his head was tilted down. I may not have been able to see his face, but I would have recognized that old, grungy cap almost anywhere. I crossed the space between us and tapped him on the shoulder. The man inclined his head, squinting against the light, but when he caught a glance of my face, his usually bright eyes filled with terror.

I had forgotten how fun it was to instill that level of fear. I smirked.

"Hey there, Benny! I haven't seen you since the Hunger Games!"

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

Lyrics from: Blood In The Water by grandson

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stratossphere · 4 years

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bodyguard | a. hotchner

summary: reader needs someone to spend the night with them while an escaped convict is stalking them, and they choose aaron hotchner, thinking he won’t even come.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m. recieving), fem! reader, dirty talk, language

a/n: this is my first fic so go easy on me lol

——

"Okay. This is ridiculous." You scoffed, staring at Morgan. You did not need a bodyguard. You were 25!

"Ridiculous or cautious?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You silently wondered if he got them plucked and waxed to make them look that good. At your annoyed look, he sighed. "Well, how about this? I'll let you pick who guards you."

"That's stupid." You paused for a moment, mulling it over. "Okay, let me think about it." You sighed. You were on the brink of coming up with a plan, but you needed time to think. The man you had arrested had been released, and had promised in a letter to kidnap and torture you to his best ability. Comforting.

You sat at your desk for a while, mindlessly sorting through case files JJ had dropped on your desk, trying to think of some way to get out of being babysat by someone on the team. At first you were going to pick Derek because you liked his sense of humor, but then rationalized that he would probably make you sit in a corner.

Then you thought Reid, by Morgan would probably also say no. Reid was dealing with issues of his own, and the last time he had been a bodyguard for someone, they had ended up making out in a pool. And that was not happening.

Prentiss was unavailable because of a case in another state she was working with Rossi, and you knew JJ had Henry. Suddenly, it dawned on you. Ask for Hotch, and he would 100% say no. That left Garcia, and Morgan would most likely say no to that because she was unarmed. So you made your decision.

"Morgan!" You walked back up to his desk, a proud look on your face. You may not have been the smartest profiler, but you were definitely the best at getting your way.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He asked, turning in his chair and grinning at you. "You picked me, right?" Ooh, so confident. You shook your head.

"Hotch."

"Ooh, nicely played. No way he's going to say yes." He chuckled. "Go up and tell him."

"What? I have to tell him?" You complained, pouting. You didn't want to have to deal with his seemingly never ending temper. But alas, you marched your happy ass up to his office, and knocked on his door. He was on the phone but he motioned you in, telling whoever was on the phone he would need to call them back. He set down his phone, turning his attention to you. He looked exhausted, and if you weren't afraid of him, you would've told him he needed to go home.

"What?" He snapped impatiently, making you want to back out of that office as fast as you could. Hotch in a bad mood wasn’t exactly your favorite thing. You scoffed. Attitude much?

"Well, good evening to you, too."

"What can I do for you? I was kind of busy." He said a little softer, huffing and reaching again for his phone. You chewed on your lip. You hated asking people things. Even more so when they were apparently in a pissy mood.

"Morgan needs you to be my bodyguard for the night." You blurted, staring at your feet and then back up at him. He sighed deeply, staring at you for a second. Heck yeah, he's going to say no. You knew that look, seeing as he literally said no to you at least 5 times a day.

"Uh, okay. I'll get my stuff and take you home." He said, standing up. Your jaw dropped. No fucking way. He raised an eyebrow at your reaction to his words. Shit. Now you had to back your way out.

"What? No! You were supposed to say no!" You whined, throwing your hands in the air. Essentially throwing a fit in his office. In front of your boss. "You're obviously busy. See you later."

"I didn't ask what you wanted me to do, Agent. Get your stuff and we'll head to my car." He reprimanded, heading towards the door. "Let's go. And I don't want to hear any complaining." Well that was unexpected. You understood that he was overworked, but did he really need to yell at you?

"You're already acting like my drill sergeant and we aren't even home yet. Are you going to be this way the whole time?" You ignored his request, moping as you followed him. Morgan gave you a surprised/empathetic look as you passed by, and you pretended to throw up. He turned to look at you, clenching his jaw. You stopped as soon as his eyes met yours, straightening your posture. Force of habit, being around your straight-laced boss all the time.

"I can see you. You're right next to me." He muttered, giving you an annoyed look. You stifled a groan at his stone stature. This was going to be a long ride.

The drive home was silent, the only words spoken were "don't touch that" when you turned on the radio. He let The Beatles play, though, which you found interesting seeing as it was playing off the CD in his car already. Hotch likes Lennon. When you got home, you led him into your apartment, only after he'd cleared it for you. This was all so stupid.

"You should just go home. It's not like I'm going to die." You said as you watched him walk through the house with his shoes on. Who knew what kind of shit he had walked through in his work shoes?! Part of you was too afraid to see what his socks looked like anyways, so you let it go. You collapsed on the couch as you watched him look through stuff, that serious 'boss face' set even deeper than usual. It was exhausting, watching him frown so much. You always tried to make him laugh or smile, but to no avail. He was a stone cold bitch.

"No. You can't just be here by yourself." He said, stopping his pacing in front of you. His frown deepened (if that was even possible) at the amused look on your face, and he crossed his arms, pausing where he was standing in the kitchen. "What?"

"How do you just frown? All day? Like, I don't think I've ever seen you smile. Ever." You asked, giving him a curious look. He chuckled, shaking his head. But he didn't smile. How do you manage to laugh without smiling? Maybe he was soulless. That would make a lot of sense, honestly.

"You should go to bed."

"I'm not tired. You just want to get rid of me." You scoffed, shaking your head. He pinched his nose, sighing heavily. You were starting to seriously annoy him. Personally, you thought it was very funny.

"If I say yes, will you shut up and go to bed?" He asked dryly. You put up your hands in defense, getting up and rolling your eyes. You didn't need that kind of disrespect in your own home.

"You can't be my boss when we're in my house." You pointed out, turning on the living room light. "Hotch. Take off your shoes. Stay a while. Jesus Christ." Him pacing like that was starting to seriously stress you out.

"My job isn't to 'stay awhile.' I'm watching you, not hanging out with you." But he did kick of his shoes, and low and behold, he was wearing plain black. Boring. He could've at least done some colored diamonds. "Why are you staring at my feet."

His voice startled you, and you glanced back up at his face. He had a questioning look on his face, and he looked annoyed. But then again, he always looked annoyed.

"Sorry. I was just noticing how boring your socks are." You mumbled. He really needed to get some fashion tips from Reid and Penelope when it came to socks. He would've yelled at you if you were back at the BAU, but all he did this time was laugh.

There! A smile. A small one, but still a smile.

"Stop profiling me. All my socks are the same." He said curtly, crossing his arms. You faked a disappointed sigh, shaking your head.

"You shouldn't have said that if you didn't want me to profile. You like order." You offered, sitting back down. He looked unfazed by this, and shrugged. Just slightly.

"You already knew that, though. You've spent a lot of time in my office." He pointed out. He took off his jacket, hanging it on your barstool. Okay. Making progress. You nodded, giving him a grim look. Well, he wasn't wrong. That man spent more time reprimanding you than he did actually talking to you.

"You also like yelling." You grumbled, grinding your teeth momentarily to show that it pissed you off.

"And apparently, you like being yelled at." He said with raised eyebrows. You watched him, hiding the small smile on your face behind your palm. He wasn't so scary when he looked like that. Face relaxed.

"You don't want to be here." It was very obvious. He wouldn't sit down, and he was seconds away from starting to pace again. Plus, he kept looking through the open window. He was watching. Waiting. It was making you just as restless as him. Who knew SSA Hotchner was so squirrelly?

"I could be home with my son right now." He admitted, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say and? so what? you chose to come here in the first place.

"Then go home." You stated simply.

"No." Ugh. So stubborn. You decided to make light of his attitude.

"Well, at least I know someone enjoys my company." You joked, patting the space next to you on the couch. "You should really sit down. You can't just stand there all night." You'd think after so much walking and standing at work, he'd want to sit down and relax.

To your surprise, he did sit down, crossing his arms. This was the most calmly dressed you had ever seen him, and yet he was dressed more formal than anyone who had ever taken you on a date. Your eyes lingered on the top button of his shirt. He had unbuttoned it at some point. The way his shirt fit snugly on his arms, his hands...

"Do you know anyone who seems to linger around your apartment too long? Seems to always be there when you leave?" He was trying to divert your attention back to the case, but you didn't feel like talking about it. At least he had stopped your staring. You hoped he hadn't seen it.

"You know, the good thing about this is that you left at a normal time today." You pointed out. When he could get away with it, you weren't sure he even left his office overnight. He was there later than you and always there earlier the next morning, so you couldn't be sure. If he didn't annoy you so much, you'd worry about his wellbeing.

"I don't appreciate you judging my work schedule. What I do after you leave is not under your jurisdiction." He stated tensely, clenching his jaw. You groaned, leaning your head back dramatically. He was starting to give you a headache.

"Hotch. Loosen up. Seriously. You could eat something, watch something on TV, go to bed, get a drink, talk to me without that glare on your face-" you tsked, "-I could go on forever."

"How about you go to bed and I'll watch something? You still have work tomorrow." He said, reaching for the remote. You sighed, getting up and giving up at the same time. He also had to work tomorrow but WHATEVER.

"Fine. But if you're going to watch The Bachelor, don't tell me what happens. I'm recording it." You warned, pointing at him aggressively. He shook his head disapprovingly as you walked away and into your room. It was weird, knowing Aaron Hotchner was sitting in your living room, and you were going to bed. Very weird. But you couldn't erase the stupid smile he had caused from your face.

All jokes aside, once you were in your room (and you could hear the news in the living room, you should've guessed), the reality of the situation was starting to set in. Someone was watching you. Waiting to murder you in any way they could. Most likely torture and mutilation as he had his original victims. And yet, they hadn't had enough evidence to prosecute. You were alone now, and there was no one to distract your stalker.

You checked out the windows a couple of times, hiding behind the curtain. You couldn't tell if it was the dark or your imagination, but you saw people everywhere. Shadows in the alley outside your window, someone standing across the street, you began to feel increasingly jittery. Okay. You gave up. You were not about to be murdered in your sleep when you had your made-of-steel boss basically waiting for your call. You weren't just going to waste your resources.

"Hotch?" You called, unable to hide the quiver in your voice. You heard footsteps, and a second later he was in your doorway, looking panicked. You were already starting to regret your decision. You didn't need him in here. You didn't. You didn't.

"What? What's going on?" He asked, halting to a stop and looking around frantically. You grimaced, shaking your head. You needed him in here.

"Nothing. Sorry. I was just going to ask you if you could look around one more time. Just to make sure." You said sheepishly, looking at him hopefully. He sighed in relief, relaxing. You had obviously worried him.

"Of course. Stay with me, just in case." He waited for you to follow him before walking out of the room. His demeanor was relaxed, and you could tell he was sure there was nothing to worry about, but he was looking anyway, which was nice. You did a full sweep of the apartment and obviously came up with nothing. You couldn't ignore the fact that you had immediately felt at ease when you had seen his face.

"Clear." He said as he closed your closet door. Part of you wanted to laugh at the obscurity of the situation you had just witnessed. Your boss checking your closet for monsters. Ridiculous. But the other part was focused out the window. Maybe you weren't hallucinating.

"Hotch." You whispered, moving to the side so you weren't in full view. When he looked your way you pointed out the window to the person who actually was standing across the street. So you weren't crazy. Hotch looked out the window from where he was standing and immediately reached for his gun, not taking it out but not taking his hand off of it. He watched for a while, then removed his hand.

"He's walking a dog." He realized, slowly closing the curtain. You sat down on the bed, pulling your knees to your chest. You sighed in relief. You were being so stupid.

"Okay. This is a lot." You mumbled, watching him glance out the window one more time. He turned back to you, a concerned (or something like that) look on his face.

"I can sit in here until you fall asleep." He said quietly, nodding to the chair next to your bed. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, the offer not one you would expect from your boss.

"Uh, yeah. That would be great, actually." You climbed under your covers as you watched him sit down and dial a number. You didn't know how you were supposed to sleep with him talking on the phone, but you went along with it and laid down.

"Hey, Garcia. I know it's late. I need you to arrange tighter security around y/n's apartment. There's only so much I can do from here." He paused for a second, listening to whatever Penelope was saying on the other end. "Thank you. And please, stop calling me that." He hung up, and then dialed another number. You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him talk endlessly with like 6 different people about six different things, and thought: who knew hotch was such a loudmouth?

"What are you, a teenage girl?" You groaned, sitting up. He looked startled, but he stopped dialing.

"Excuse me?" He must've thought you were sleeping.

"I have never met someone who spends so much time on the phone. Do you ever sleep?" You complained, turning your head to look at him. He turned off his phone and set it in his lap, giving you an annoyed look.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"It's impossible to sleep when you're talking." You weren't about to tell him that his voice was comforting. More when he wasn't using his Unit Chief voice. But you had yet to hear much of that.

"Not true. Jack falls asleep every night to Harry Potter." He objected. You rolled your eyes, pulling the covers further up towards your chin.

"I'd rather you read then talk about case files." You muttered.

"I don't have a book." He argued. You couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so you opened your nightstand drawer and pulled out some stupid mystery book you had never read. You didn't really have a lot of time for reading with your job.

"Profile and solve before the book ends." You suggested. "I'm sure you'll figure it out by the 3rd chapter or so. Probably the butler." For some reason, you were feeling pretty drowsy as soon as he had stopped talking, and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open. He gave you a gentle smile, opening the book and looking it over.

"Butler? It's usually the ex-boyfriend." He countered. You laughed weakly, closing your eyes and humming a small agreement.

"You can read it out loud, if you want." You mumbled. He paused for a second, and then he started reading. The book was about a dead son, and all the family were suspects. His voice has quieted down considerably, and as he turned the pages, his tone was barely audible. You fell asleep before he could get any farther than that.

——

You jolted out of a bad dream of someone breaking in when you opened your eyes. You were leaning on your arm, but your arm wasn't on your mattress. It was in Hotch's lap. You looked up to see that he was asleep, head leaning back with his mouth slightly open. You got up, stretching your arm seeing as it was asleep. This woke him, and he jolted into awareness. You rubbed your eyes, trying to bring the room into focus.

"Calm down." You mumbled, falling back against your pillows. You tried to calm your heartbeat, but for some reason panic had set in and wouldn't leave.

"You were thrashing in your sleep. I couldn't get you to sit still unless I held you down like that." He said, explaining the way you had woken up. You closed your eyes again, taking deep breaths. "Are you okay?"

"Not at the moment, no." You huffed. You reached out your hand, finding his and squeezing it tightly. "This is kind of scary. What does it tell you about me that I'm an FBI agent scared of an invisible man?"

"Tells me that you're sane. I would be worried if you weren't scared." He held my hand in both of his, giving me a sympathetic look. "You're not even fully awake." His skin on your skin was making you feel a certain way, even if it was just his hands.

"Can you sit with me?" You mumbled, squeezing his hand tighter. His hands on yours were calming the panic a little bit, but not enough. He chuckled.

"I'm already sitting with you. You probably won't even remember this conversation in the morning."

"No, like, in bed with me. Just sit with me. Please?" You begged. You knew he was going to say no, but it never hurt to ask. He sighed.

"Fine. But just this once." He got up and walked over to the other side of your bed, crawling in slowly. You leaned up against his side and wrapped your arms around him, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders. His cologne smelled expensive, and it was comforting. He had taken off his button up shirt at some point, and all he was wearing was the white t-shirt he had been wearing underneath it. It was soft against your fingers, and it smelled of laundry detergent. You could feel his heartbeat with your head on his chest like that.

You fell asleep like that, and part of you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you had a soft spot for Aaron Hotchner. Not long after that, you regretted the thought as he woke you for the millionth time. The man wouldn't sit still. He kept shifting around, shoulder hitting your side or a kick to the leg. Only once did he mutter a gravelly sorry and still for about ten seconds. Finally, you had had enough, and you jolted into sitting position, looking at your alarm clock. 3:28.

"What is wrong with you?" You groaned, turning to look at him, a desperate look on your face. You couldn't sleep if he was going to keep doing that, and you had had enough. You startled him considerably, and his head whipped around to look over at you. He had resorted to a lying down position, his pillow shoved under his arm and his hair tousled. He looked pretty good like that.

"I didn't know you were awake." He muttered, resting his head on his hand. You mimicked his position, quirking an eyebrow at him. You had no idea if he could even see it in the dark. He sighed uncomfortably. "Nothing is wrong with me."

"You sure? Because you've shifted in your sleep more times tonight than I think I have in my entire life." You pointed out, lying back down on your side and keeping your eyes on him. "What's bothering you?"

"Well, it's just..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I'm in a bed with my coworker, and then I had a nightmare-" Aw, poor baby. Wait what? Split second decisions were made.

"Come here." You said gently, opening your arms to him. He hesitated for a second before letting his head fall to your chest, sighing softly as your fingers found his hair. Yeah, you definitely had a soft spot for your boss. You did that for a while, just running your fingers through the dark strands and making it stick up all over the place. "You want me to help you relax a little bit?" It was a stretch, and there was a chance that he was going to shut down and go sit in the living room, but the haze of waking up in the middle of the night had brought you some welcomed confidence.

"You already did it! What's the harm in continuing to do it?" You pressed another kiss to his lips, inhaling the scent of his cologne. "Plus, I don't kiss and tell." His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers coming in contact with the warm skin of your back. A low chuckle against your lips and he seemed to be okay with it.

"Oh you don't?" He complied as you started to unbutton his shirt, gasping for breath as he sucked harsh marks on your neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Any bit of hesitation he had been displaying previously was gone, and now all you could see was animalistic hunger in his eyes. His skin against yours was intoxicating, and even though it wasn't physically possible, you wanted to press yourself closer to him. Your fingers found his belt buckle, blindly fumbling with the silver piece.

"You want to know a secret?" He breathed as he broke the kiss, helping you get his belt undone and sliding out of his work pants. You couldn't help but laugh, his words completely unexpected. "What's so funny?"

"A secret? My big bad boss wants to tell me a secret?" You rested your elbows on his shoulders, waiting for his answer. You were secretly curious to know what this secret of his was. He pressed another kiss to your lips before motioning to the black socks he was still wearing.

"These socks are reversible." He whispered. A small smile spread onto your face, your hand reaching down to his feet and peeling back his sock to see if he was bullshitting you. He wasn't. The socks may have been plain, boring black on the side he had chosen to wear outside, but on the inside, they had little Santas all over them. You started giggling again, pulling him back into a kiss.

"I love them, but I wanna see you naked." You sang, your hand slowly trailing its way down his stomach. He sucked in a harsh breath, quickly stopping your hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, tipping your chin so that your eyes looked into his. There was worry in his eyes, but at the same time, there was undeniable lust. You nodded eagerly, lips parting slightly in a way you hoped would get him all hot and bothered. He shook his head, sighing.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I want you. I need you, Hotch." You whined, opening your mouth again as his thumb dragged across your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth, watching you with hungry eyes.

"You can call me Aaron." He chewed on his lip as he watched you suck on his thumb, looking up at him with faux innocent eyes. Your fingers found the waistband of his boxers again, starting to pull them down slowly. This time he didn't stop you, groaning slightly as your fingers brushed his hard on and pushed his boxers off as he accommodated the movement. He had pulled his socks off after showing you, so now he was completely bare in front of you.

God, you wanted this man to rail you.

You released his finger, instead attatching your lips to his neck and kissing your way down his chest. He was heaving for breath, and you felt a small pang of pride at how worked up you had him without even touching him where you knew he wanted you to. His fingers made their way into your hair, pulling slightly. You wasted no time, and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. He gasped audibly, pulling a little harder and bucking his lips toward your mouth. You swiped your tongue over the slit, earning a filthy moan from his lips. He pressed deeper into your mouth, and he started to thrust heavily, fucking your face. You hollowed out your cheeks, the moans coming from his lips going straight to your cunt.

"Oh, fuck. J-just like that." He groaned, his nails digging into your scalp. Who knew Aaron Hotchner was so vocal?

You bobbed your head feverishly in turn of his thrusts, groaning as he pulled at your hair. Suddenly, he pulled you off, wiping your lips with his thumb before pulling you back to his lips for a brushing kiss. He started to aggressively pull of the remainder of your clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the room. He pushed you back on the bed, slotting a knee between your legs.

"You know, there's something that I like to think about a lot." He mumbled, his hand drifting down your stomach. The way your body reacted to his touch, back arching and breath quickening, was making him so hard his cock was aching for you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against him.

"Yeah? What's that?" You asked, gasping as he started running slow, lazy circles over your clit. "God, I need you inside me, Aaron."

"I think about fucking you until you scream. Watching you come on my cock while I pound into you. Feeling your skin against mine. Wondering how you would taste." He whispered into your ear, chuckling as you reached between you to line him up with your entrance.

"You and me both, sweetheart." You bit his lip, trying to push forward to get him inside you. He put a hand on your stomach, keeping you still and at the same time stopping his movements on your clit. He raked his hands through your hair as he slowly pushed into you, pausing to let you get adjusted to his size.

"Don't call me sweetheart." He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you jerked your hips up towards his. His cologne had filled your senses and clouded your brain, and you knew that in the future every time you smelled it, you were going to associate it with the feeling of being stuffed with your boss's cock.

"More. Please." You whined, gripping his shoulders and grinding your hips in hope of getting some friction to soothe the unbearable arousal that was begging to be quenched. You needed him. You couldn't handle any more. He chuckled, starting to slowly move his hips, starting a teasing pace that he knew wasn't even close to being enough. You let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a whine, loving the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside of you.

"So needy, aren't you?" He lifted one of your legs so that it was up against his chest, effectively thrusting into a different position. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, putting your hand over his where it was gripping your breast.

"Fuck! Fuck yeah, right there!" You cried, feeling your orgasm starting to build in your lower stomach. He let out a groan as his thrusts became sloppier, signaling that his climax was close behind. Your moans became more sporadic and his name fell from your lips over and over again as your high approached. "Oh god, m'gonna cum." You were breathless, and barely able to get the words out.

"Don't." He leaned onto you, pulling you so that your chests were pressed together, you in his lap and his hands on your hips pulling you down onto him. You shook your head, gripping his hair and pulling. You couldn't hold it. Every part of your body was on fire, and your walls fluttered around him as you held on with everything you had. Finally, he moaned into your neck, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

"Cum. Cum all over my cock." He groaned, kissing you with teeth and tongue as you both came together, the feeling of his cum inside you causing you to moan on top of the euphoria from your orgasm. You both rode out your highs before holding that position, both trying to catch your breath. He then slowly pulled out of you, eliciting a whimper from you as he brushed your sensitive clit. You laid back on your bed, so blissed out you barely felt him lie down next to you.

He pulled you against his chest, his chin resting on your head and his arm wrapped loosely around your waist. After a while, you felt his cum start to leave you, so you got up to go to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and peeing before going back into the bedroom, admiring the sight in front of you. Aaron, spread out on the bed, sweaty and disheveled. He looked gorgeous. You just stood there for a second, locking the sight into your memory. You had no idea if you would be able to do this again. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind that he might not want to see you again after tonight. He was, in fact, just supposed to be babysitting you. Not fucking you. Maybe he was sitting there thinking about how much he regretted having sex with you.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" His voice interrupted your intrusive thoughts, bringing you back to earth. You sent him a small smile, padding back to the bed and getting in next to him, sliding back under his arm.

"You're just so handsome. I can't believe Aaron Hotchner is naked in my bed." You mused, running your forefinger over the grooves and lines on the palm of his hand. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his free hand drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The thought of someone stalking you outside your window had definitely escaped your mind, and the anxiety that had plagued you earlier about your situation was no longer a thought as you laid in Aaron's arms.

"Get used to it, sweetheart. I can't imagine being anywhere else." He purred, giving you a chaste kiss. He smelled so good. Everything about him was just so amazing. You wanted him to hold you forever. You haphazardly ran your fingers through his soft dark locks, relishing the reaction you received from him when you did so. Eventually, the both of you drifted off, holding each other like that. That was certainly not how you thought the night was going to end.

——

Your alarm for work the next morning woke you, and for a second you freaked out. Shit! Someone was in your bed! Then you remembered, and sighed in relief as you sat up. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning and trying to keep you from getting up.

"We have to leave in 30 minutes." You mumbled, getting up and stretching your arms over your head. You knew he was a very routine-oriented person, so you thought it would be fair to at least warn him that you woke up and hour and a half after he did. It was common knowledge that he woke up way before he needed to be at work. Everyone at work poked fun at him for it. He shot up like a bullet, his eyes wide.

"30 minutes? Are you kidding me?" He rushed out of bed, frantically fixing his sex hair in the mirror. You laughed, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Calm down, Agent Hotchner. I'll make sure you get to work on time. You might have to skip the shower though." In all honesty, you had set your alarm for 30 minutes later than usual after last night's endeavors so that you could enjoy him in your bed for a little while longer. He turned around and kissed you, his hands roaming over your still naked body. "Easy, lover. Keep doing that and we will definitely be late for work." You warned. He had put on his boxers at some point, and after he broke the kiss, he was digging around for his clothes. You watched him work, pulling on clothes frantically and at the same time checking texts/emails on his phone. You leisurely got dressed, barely giving the time a thought. You couldn't get yelled at by your boss for being late if your boss was late with you.

"You're something else, you know that?" He huffed, adjusting his watch on his wrist as you sat in his lap while putting on mascara. You ignored him, concentrating on not poking yourself in the eye. Since he had to get ready at your house (which included him using your toothbrush and letting you brush out his hair) he didn't have his hair gel, so his hair fell on his forehead softly, which made him look so cute. You vocalized this thought to him as you got up and led him into the kitchen to grab your shoes.

"I'm not cute." He muttered, grumbling to himself as he tied the laces on his dress shoes. You brushed your thumb over his cheek, grinning.

"Uh huh. Whatever you say." You left after that, and guess what? You weren't even late. As you rode to Quantico, you silently wondered what he did in the two hours before he had to leave for work. Crosswords? The news? Working out? Changing outfits? Well, that last one seemed improbable seeing as he wore the same thing every day, but you never know. You honestly had no idea. When you walked into the bullpen and separated from Hotch, Morgan was immediately in your face, bombarding you with questions.

"So? How was it?"

"Did he sleep there?"

"Does he snore?"

"Did anything interesting happen?"

"Did he say anything about your apartment?"

"Slow down, Morgan. Jesus. It was...interesting." You sighed, sitting down on his desk so that he would sit down in his chair and calm down a little bit. He raised a perfect eyebrow, evidently wanting more.

"Did he sleep there?"

"Well duh, Derek. Unsubs don't just decide they can't stalk at night because it's dark outside and the monsters are going to get them. He had to stay there, according to him." You explained. You were stepping on thin ice, and you were hoping he wouldn't assume what had actually happened.

"Where did he sleep?" He pried, wiggling his eyebrows and giving you a suggestive look. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance with is antics.

"In a chair." You lied. Well, technically you weren't lying, he had fell asleep in the chair next to your bed for a couple of hours. But that wasn't the full truth. And as a knowing look crossed his face, you realized with fear that he seemed to know the same thing.

"You seem to be looking everywhere but me, mama. Come on, tell me the dirty details." He dragged the word way too long, a wide smirk on his face. I glanced up at Aaron's office, only to see him leaning against the railing out of Derek's eyesight, his look mirroring Derek's. You sighed, leaning in closer and sending Aaron an annoyed look.

"This stays between us, understand?" You asked, giving him a serious look. You didn't need him gossiping about your sex life with Garcia. Of course you were going right over to her room after this, but you wanted her to hear the real story, not Derek's no doubt over-dramatized version. He nodded eagerly, leaning in with you. You explained how last night went, and as soon as you got to the part about how you had sex, he couldn't contain himself.

"Oh my god. You did what?"

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #bodyguard fic

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

Christmas Shopping

Chapter 3 - Addicted to you.

A/N: It felt so weird writing/editing this chapter in the middle of summer, but that’s how their timeline worked out! I can’t remember the last time I released a H&L chapter or wrote one to be fair, I think after this I have 2 more in drafts. Better get back to it! I hope you like it 😘

Tagging those who asked to be tagged but if you want to be added let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & NSFW

Songs: Kelly Rowland - Commander, Rihanna - Only girl, Magic - Rude & Wyclef Jean - Perfect gentleman.

Word Count: 2673

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy! 😘

A couple days later.

"So what are you going to get Harry for Christmas?" Nikki asks her as they had taken a break from shopping to have some lunch. "I have no idea what to get him!" she sighs. "I'm sure he'll be happy with you in some sexy lingerie," Nikki winks at her Laila lets out a loud laugh making people turn to look at her. "Or you can get him a Santa costume?" she laughs.

"What are you getting Stu?" Laila changes the subject. "He wants a new aftershave, I can't remember what he normally wears. What does Harry wear?" Laila has a think "Erm...a few different ones really Paco Rabanne One Million, Davidoff cool water, Boss Bottle that one what's his face is in the advert....the guy that plays Thor. Is one he smelt recently and liked but he didn't get it because they sold out and only had the sample bottle."

"You can get him that! I might have a sniff to see if it's something Stu would wear too!"

After lunch, they are walking through the shopping centre, Nikki ended up getting Stu some aftershave. Laila was still unsure what to get Harry, so Nikki drags her into Ann Summers. "What about these??" Nikki holds up some fluffy handcuff, Laila snorts. "We already have some, but without the fluff!" Nikki puts down the cuffs "What about cock ring? Closest Harry will get to sticking a ring on it!"

"We have that too," Laila blushes. "Crotch less knickers?" Laila nods signalling she has those. "Weighted love ball?" she asks and Laila again nods. "Feather tickler?" nod, "Blind fold? Riding crop?" Laila again nods, "Jeez, it would be easier to ask what you haven't got!" the pair laugh, "What? It has been eight years remember!" Laila winks at her.

"What about anal beads or ball gag?" Laila pulls a disgusted face "Finally! What about nipple clamps?" Laila laughs, "Only if they're being used on him!" she laughs. "God! Just think 6 months ago you were a born again virgin...now look at you! Getting more action than all of us put together!" Nikki giggles "Just over 7 months actually!" Laila corrects her.

Laila's phone Pings.

"Nikki! Look what Harry has done to Mabel!" she hands her the phone. "Awwww! Laila how adorable do she look!" the pair coo over the photo. "Has she met her new dog walker yet?" Nikki asks as she hands back the phone "She's met her, she's actually taking her out today." she smiles.

They ended up leaving the shop with some Christmas theme lingerie.

Later.

Laila arrives home all the lights are out "Harry?" Laila calls out. "I'm in the living room!" he calls back, she hangs up her coat and makes her way across the hall. When she opens the living room door the room is lit with tea and fairy lights, there are blankets and cushions on the floor in front of the coffee table. On the coffee table there is a chocolate fondue with fruit and marshmallows next to it "Aww Bear! What's all this?" she wanders over to him on the floor. "Where's Mabel?" she looks round the room as she sits next to him.

"She's gone to bed, Nessa took her for a 2 mile walk today!" he cups her face pulling her in for a soft kiss. "Aww, are they getting on OK?" he smiles, "Yeah, I've booked her in for Monday to Friday this week coming about lunchtime, so you'll met her this week."

"Right, enough about this dog walker. Are you going to let me feed you?" she winks, he leans forward grabbing a strawberry and hands it to her. She dips it into the chocolate and guilds it towards his lips, he's just about to take a bite when she redirects it to her mouth and takes a bite. He laughs and reaches over and pulls her lips to his. His tongue swirls with hers tasting the chocolate covered strawberry, he pulls away "That was amazing!" he grins at her.

She grabs another strawberry covers it in chocolate and traces it against his pulse line. Her tongue follows the same path, he groans and his breathing hitches as she pulls away she places the strawberry against his lips, he takes a bite. His lips brush over her finger tips making her every nerve ending stand on end. He knows the affect he has on her "How was that?"

"Tasty!" he grins and winks at her "Your turn." he picks up a marshmallow covers it in chocolate holds it out for her to bite into it. "Hmmm..!" she smiles at him "Did you get all your shopping done?"

"I need to order a couple of bits online, but after that..I'm done."

"Christmas day, what are we doing?" he asks.

She sighs, "I don't know how we are going to split between them all!" she leans against him and his arm comes around her. "I have an idea....as it's our first Christmas together, what if we did Christmas day just me, you and Mabel? In bed in our PJ's? I'll cook us Christmas dinner. Then Boxing day we do a buffet for both families?" she sits up to look at him "So, a lazy Christmas day? In bed?"

"Yeah...PJ's, snuggles in bed and a Harry Taylor roast. What more could a girl ask for?!" he winks waiting for her answer. "I love it!" his face lights up "Really?!" he questions her. "Yeah, Christmas day in bed with my hunky boyfriend, but I have one alteration....no pajamas!" He raises a brow to her, "Noted!" he jokes. "Instead Christmas jumpers!!!" this wasn't the answer he was expecting.

She giggles "Your face! But I want matching Christmas pajamas!" He chuckles "OK, but no photos my brothers will rip into me!" she sighs "Oh! Come on, one photo? Just to make me happy?" she pouts. "Fine, if it makes you happy." she claps getting her own way, "I think you owe it to Mabel after today!"

He chuckles "She looked cute!" "She did! Oh are you working Saturday?" she asks. "I don't think so?" he questions. "Every Christmas we do a friends Christmas party, kinda like a blow out before the family stuff. Nikki has planned it for Friday night and she has found somewhere that is having a 90's to 2020's night"

"Sounds good, who's going?" he asks. "Remy, Alec, Nikki, Stu, Alene, Daniel and now us!" she smiles. "I'm guessing we get completely smashed then?" she laughs.

Friday evening.

They arrive at the club Nikki found, Laila and Harry are the last to arrive.

Laila notices Stu and Nikki at the bar, she sneaks up behind her Stu spy's her, but Laila puts her index finger to her lips signalling him not to say anything. As she reaches Nikki, she wraps her arms around waist, making Nikki whip round with a face like thunder until she realises it was her friend "Laila, I was just about to...whatever. Glad you guys are here." she shouts over the music.

"Sorry, Mabel's walker got back late. Where are the others?" Laila calls back, Nikki points over to a table where the rest of the group are sat. Harry leans in, "Shall we get a drink first?" Laila nods "What you guys having?" Stu asks. "I know Laila's drink, Harry what ya having?" Nikki asks.

After they make their way over to the others "Hey!!" Laila call out as she takes a seat next to Alec, who hugs her and Harry. They are sat for a few minutes when Kelly Rowland - Commander begins to play Nikki jumps up, grabbing Laila's hand dragging her to the dance floor.

Nikki starts to sing along.

"From here on out

I'll be your commander (I'll be your commander)

No fear no doubt

I'll provide the answer

Right now I command you to dance"

She points to Laila, who starts to sing along with her. The pair are dancing on the edge of the dance floor in view of the table, laughing, their bodies swaying to the music the pair attract a couple of strangers, who slowly move closer to them waiting to make their move to become their unwanted dance partners.

Completely oblivious to the unwanted strangers, the song switches to Rihanna - Only Girl they continue to dance. Suddenly both girls feel someone behind them as they turn they saw Stu and Harry, Laila looks up at him confused "I thought you don't dance?" she laughs. He wraps his hands round her, swaying her as he leans in, "I don't, but those blokes behind me were inches away from trying to dance with you two."

She looks behind him "Oh, you didn't want me dancing with a stranger?" she laughs, he shook his head and they continued dancing away.

The next song was Magic - Rude as it starts up Laila starts singing it to Harry when she gets to the chorus he joins in.....

"Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?

Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know

You say I'll never get your blessing till the day I die

'Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is no!'

Why you gotta be so Rude?

Don't you know I'm human too?

Why you gotta be so Rude?

I'm gonna marry her anyway

Marry that girl, marry her anyway

Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say

Marry that girl, and we'll be a family

Why you gotta be so Rude?"

Both grinning and smiling, he cups her face pulling her in for a kiss.

A little later back at the table "Laila, Boxing day....is it OK to bring Melissa?" Alene asks, Laila looks over to Rem. "Is Rem OK with that?" she looks to Alene who nods "If it's OK with Rem it's OK with me." when she looks up Rem mouths "Thank you." to her.

Daniel comes over from the bar with a tray of drinks "Sex on the beach anyone?" he passes them around the group. "Damn Daniel at least buy a girl a drink first!" Alene teases him "Sorry Len, but you aren't my type!" he winks at her, the group laugh.

A little later Perfect Gentleman - Wyclef Jean starts playing a tipsy Harry pulls Laila away from the bar and onto the dance floor. He spins her before pulling her close to him swaying them together. "Hey, you are a liar!! You can dance!" Laila giggles as she wraps her arms around his neck.

"My moo....ves only get bet...ter after I've add....a few." his words are slurred, his hips move with hers. He spins her round again, her body collides with his "I think you need to get drunk at every party or night out if it improves your dance moves!" he smirks before claiming her lips. As they sway with their lips locked, Laila can feel him begin to stiffen against her hips "Hmmm....someone seems to be enjoy themselves a little to much!" She winks.

He looks round checking no one is near, his lips brush against her ear "Can we head home? I got some other kinda moves I want to show you!" she giggles and bites her lip, "Let's go!" they say their goodbyes and head for the tube.

10 Minutes later.

Their underground train arrives empty, he sits and pulls her onto his lap. He captures her lips, the kiss becomes heated, Harry pulls off his coat and places it on her lap. His hand creeps under his coat snaking into her jeans "Bear, not here!" she whispers, he smirks against her lips continuing his trail. He lets out a soft growl. He reaches her hidden jewel, her head rolls back as his lip pepper down her neck.

She bites back a moan as he works between her slick slits.

Through the speaker they hear the next station is their stop, they both groan with disappointment. "Come on, we can continue this at home!" she gets up as the train pulls into their station.

2 Weeks later.

It's the day before Christmas Eve, Laila has just finished her last day until the new year, she wanders into the kitchen, "Oh, Harry! You're home early!" she was sure he mentioned he was training Stu tonight.

He's leaning against the kitchen counter with a whiskey in his hand, he looks over to her "I canceled Stu's PT session....Laila, there's something I need to tell you..."

He looks as if what he's about to tell her is tearing him up inside, her minds goes into overdrive....Was history repeating itself?

"Bear?" she looks at him concerned, he takes a deep breath "When I came back today to take Mabel for a walk at lunch....I bumped into Nessa." she laughs, "What is she annoyed we didn't get her to take Mabel out today?" he silently chuckles, but it quickly fades. "She was walking another client's dog, she asked if she could join Mabel as I was taking her over to the fields. We were just sat on a bench talking...she asked me about work and us. Then this afternoon she turned up at my work for a PT session, I didn't even know she booked. I was giving her a tour of the gym and she tried to kiss me..."

Laila's cheeks burn, but soon drain cold "What?!" was all she could conjure up from her lips. "Laila, I promise you as soon as she leaned in I stepped back. I was just as confused as you are, I asked her to leave after that." she can see he's just as shocked as she is "Laila? Please say something!" he softly pleads with her.

She sighs, making her way over to him cupping his face "Looks like we need to find a new dog walker." she laughs, he rolls his eyes at her. "Hey, It's not the first and probably won't be the last time a client tries to make a move on you....I remember a client making some more steamier moves on you about 7 months ago," she grins at him. He laughs, "Those were wanted moves!" he reminds her. "More than wanted...just look at what happened that night...but I'm glad you told me about Nessa." she pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

"I've never given another woman a tour of the changing rooms since." he laughs before continuing "That is how and why we work because we are honest with one another!" he kisses her nose. "OK, can I be really honest..Bear?" he nods, "You stink!! Did you not shower before coming home?" Laila baits him. "Oh, I do? Do I?" he raises a brow to her.

With that he throws her over his shoulder "Harry?! Put me down!" she screams between her laughter. "Sorry, my love that's a no!" his hand strikes her arse cheek as he begins to climb the stairs with her over his shoulder. "Harry!!"

Later.

Cuddled up on the sofa watching a film "Bear?" he hums in response. "Can I be the one to sack Nessa?" she giggle, he starts searching her hair, "Harry, what are you doing?" she asks. "Looking for your devil horns," he chuckles, "But if it makes you happy...Yes, you can sack her.... to be fair, it means I don't have to deal with her," he starts to stroke her hair back down "Now how to do it? Mwahahaha!!" she fakes an evil laugh, "You really are the devil!" he smiles at her "Oh, you've seen nothing yet, Bear!" she winks.

@aussieez @secretaryunpaid @lem-20 @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @wombatsxkookaburras @beautifuluknownvoid

He pulls her onto his lap, so she's straddling him, he cups her face "Why don't you show me?" his lips crash to hers.

Chapter 4

#aty #Addicted to You #harry x laila #ATB #Original Work #original writing #original character #pixie88 original #original story #@pixie88

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