As you can tell this blog is pretty inactiveā¦
Hahaā¦
Uhā¦
ā¦
Please forgive me-!
Iāve just lost a lot of interest in Overwatch so that usually means I wonāt have inspiration to write anything! I justā¦have no fun with this blog anymore, y'know? Ah, sorry again. I feel pretty bad since this blog hasnāt even been up for that longā¦
I really hope you guys can forgive me. Now, hereās some answers to questions I assume you guys will ask:
Will you keep the blog up?
Yes, I will! Although it wonāt be updating any time soon I would still like to let people visit it.
Will you answer the asks you have saved?
ā¦no. Iām sorry but, heh, Iām not really interested anymore, hahaā¦
Would you give the blog to someone else?
Again, no, sorry. If anything Iād give it to a close/best friend and I have, like, three of them soā¦
Mm. I hope you all can forgive me and that you still enjoy this blogs content! I hope you have a lovely week. Stay safe, and I love you!
I'm pretty sure Tumblr just ate my last two requests? It says I have two messages but when I click it nothing's there...? I'm so sorry to those two people who requested things, aaa! ;;;
I only did McCree because Iām a loser. You're free to request Hanzo when I re-open requests, though! Sorry for the inconvenience.
Also, what's a happy ending?
God, he was a fool. He should've stayed away when he first saw you. You shouldn't have been involved in this - with him. McCree pressed his back roughly against the wall as he heard his rival gang's hard boots walk across the concrete floor. He held his peace-keeper in his fist tightly as he clenched his teeth. If they lay a finger on you- No. He can't be thinking that.
When the noise died down he made a quick effort to stride across the room and into another dark area. This was only his second time in this base and he feared that he might not get to you as fast as he wanted. During his moments of small panics his mind kept thinking back to when he met you.
You were at a bar, a well-known one at that, and you worked behind the counter. You were a gorgeous thing in his eyes and he wanted you. You were a prize to behold and he wanted to show everyone what he was capable of gettijng when he went back to their hideout.
In the end, it didn't go as planned.
He tried to be the dominate towards you - trying to show you "who's boss" and you ended up punching him in the nose, blood spurting out the second your fist made contact with his face. He was dazed. You, a delicate lookin' thing that seemed to be the same age he was, almost broke his nose. If that wasn't enough to make him fall for you then he didn't know what would.
You didn't kick him out after he regained himself, much to his surprise, and instead offered him a hard drink. "Here," You said as you slid a shot glass towards him, "This ones on the house for not cryin'." Your voice was monotone, blank, yet your eyes held a fierce look. A look of a predator.
McCree gazed down at his drink, noting the blue-green tint it had, and made a motion to reach for it yet stopped when he realized how much blood was on his person. It was more than what he expected. He wiped his nose with the top of his hand and saw how much red covered his hand. Damn. You really knew how to swing. He looked up towards you and saw you raising an eyebrow in return. You half-expected him to try and play off how stained he was but shook your head in amusement when he pointed a finger at the towel that rested on your shoulder.
You tossed it to him, seeing it as the polite thing to do, and grimaced at how quick the white cloth was to soak up into a dark red. At least he got most of it off, you thought.
He made a move to give it back and you were quick to decline. "Keep it." Was all you said before gesturing to the drink you offered to him, "Drink up, cowboy."
Oh, lord, the way you said that...it was music to his ears. It was enough to force him to repress a shiver going up his spin. He could feel his cheeks warm up and was thankful that some dried blood still stained him. He didn't need you knowing how you got under his skin by a simple phrase.
He reached for the drink, placed his first two fingers and thumb on the body of the glass, and quickly brought it up to his lips. He tilted his head back as he swallowed the burning liquid in one swig. He slammed the cup down, somehow not breaking it, as his face scrunched up. It wasn't disgusting, no, it was just-
"Too strong?" Your lightly teasing voice echoed through his ears. He turned to face you as he tried to relax his face. He opened his mouth to speak but found his voice betraying him. You locked eyes with him, looking at him with such a daring look behind your eyelashes, and continued, "It's a secret recipe. We call it the 'Spectrum Bomb'. It's the most expensive thing on the menu." You took the shot glass back and put it under the counter, noting to clean it later, and showed him a rare smirk, "I'm surprised. Not many people are able to handle it."
With the news settling in McCree couldn't help but smirk back at you, his posture straightening to look confident, "I can hold my liquor better than anyone I know, partner." He spoke highly. You let out a silent laugh.
"Well, partner," You mocked his southern drawl on the second word, "You should come back sometime to try our other drinks. I might even make one after you." You wiped your hands on your shirt as you looked around for the towel you had, but stopped when you remembered what happened to it. Great, now you have to go find another.
McCree perked up at this and sent you a grin, looking genuinely happy, "Really, now? You'd do that for someone who made one of the worst first impressions?"
A snort left you as you grabbed another towel from beneath the counter, "You're not the first and I doubt you'll be the last." You looked him up and down, taking in his clothes and face, "And we'll see about the drink." You put the cloth on the counter and started wiping it down in circular motions, you voice softer than usual, "I think you should get outta here before your rivals show up." You cut him off before he could reply, "They'll outnumber you, trust me."
When he forced himself to leave he noticed you sending him a smile and nod, "Good luck out there, cowboy. Lord knows that you Deadlock members need it."
The days after that flew by in a flash and the cowboy found himself thinking of you so often that it felt like you've been with him his whole life. He knew what this meant. He knew what the fluttery and fuzzy feelings were and, god, he was so scared. His life was dangerous, his job was dangerous, and involving you in it means that you'd be in danger. He couldn't bare the thought of you getting hurt because of him but when you'd show only him how bright and soft you truly were he couldn't help but fall deeper into the hole he made for himself.
It was a month after you two met when he decided what he had to do.
He slowly stopped going to the bar and always insisted on going to tasks that others didn't want to do. He felt that if he took every job then he'd have a reason to avoid you.
His heart clenched at the word, his elbows on his knees with his face in his hands as he sat on his makeshift bed. Avoid. He was avoiding you. He was purposely trying to stay away from you. He was hurting you- Wait...was he hurting you? His mind wondered to how you were holding up. Did you miss him? Did you wonder where he went? Were you worried? What if you got over it quickly?
McCree looked up to the blank wall in front of him as conflicting thoughts clouded his mind.
To say he felt drained, numb, after he spent hours alone in his room would be correct. He didn't feel anything. He felt empty; a void. He felt as if someone ripped his heart out but without the pain. Was this love? Is this what he's supposed to feel? He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. He was startled upwards when someone roughly opened up his rooms door and searched around until their eyes landed on him.
"There you are, boy." They spoke, walking towards him and McCree felt himself relax. It was just one of the members. One that he actually trusts, mind you. The person never gave him their real name but they insisted on going by "Motor." Why? He never knew. He was never one to ask questions.
They didn't say anything more while they moved to stand in front of him. Their gaze looked down at him as if a mother was about to scold her child but they stayed quiet, of only for a moment. "The barkeeper. They have 'em."
It was a short sentence but it was enough to force McCree off his bed and out the door, his gun in hand. He spared no one an explanation as he made a mad dash for the enemies hideout. Deadlock was planning an attack soon, anyways, so who cares if he gets there earlier than told?
And that's how he ended up here. Maneuvering from one dark spot to another as he tried his best to find any hints of where you could be.
He was beyond angry. At both himself and this gang. If he had just been honest with you and told you everything then you wouldn't be in this mess. You'd understand, he knew you would, but he had continued to grip to that fear of you leaving.
His breath stilled as he heard your monotone voice coming from one of the rooms. He could hear two voices mumbling, one sounding threatening and one sounding unimpressed. Hearing your voice reassured him that you were holding up fine. That gave him hope.
As much as he wanted to burst into the room and kill the person interrogating you, he knew he couldn't. There were more than twenty people in this building and they could outnumber the both of you in an instant. Plus, his gun isn't really the silent type.
For once in his life he had to think this through. He needed an option for you to at least get out of here safe. Maybe he can sneak into the room, kill the guy, free you, then cause a distraction for you to get out safely? No, that won't work. He doesn't know if the member is facing away or towards the door. The fact that you might not know where an exist is either doesn't help.
While he wondered what his next move would be he jerked up at the sound of a pained yell. It sounded horrifying to him. It was you. You were getting hurt. You were-
He couldn't hold it in any longer when he kicked the door down, most likely alerting other members, and pointed his gun straight at his enemy. He wasted no time stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him with his foot, all while keeping his gaze and gun locked onto their target. He was too scared to see the damaged that had been done to you and kept one objective in his mind: Kill everyone for harming you.
The member was shocked for a moment, he didn't expect such a grand enterence, but let out a laugh at the cowboy's attempt to be intimidating. He reached down to your thigh and grabbed onto the hilt of his knife, enjoying the sound of your pained hissing when he forcefully pulled it out. "You with Deadlock, cowboy?" He taunted, "You don't look like you could hurt a fly."
McCree felt his jaw clench as he fought the urge to shoot then and there. "Lets leave the bartender outta this. They ain't do no wrong, nor do they know what's goin' on. Let 'em go," He stepped forward, "Then we'll talk."
The member looked down at your disarrayed form, a cruel smirk forming on his lips, as he used the tip of his knife to tilt your head backwards to look at him. "This little thing? Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but they know everythin'." He turned your chair to face Jesse and only then did the cowboy notice how fucked up you were. Bruises littered your body, along with cuts, and you looked so exhausted yet, somehow, you still kept your monotone facade up.
McCree noticed how your arms were tied behind yours and the chairs' back while your legs had been tied together. They really didn't want you fighting back in any way.
He growled, baring a bit of teeth, as he stood his ground, "Doesn't matter what they know. They'll be leaving here alive, with or without me." His tone sounded serious and that made you look at him with wide eyes. You wanted to speak but at the same time you were so afraid to.
Another laugh was heard as the distant sound of footsteps were getting closer by the second. "Oh, that's rich." The third party member said, a hand reaching to his waist for his holstered gun.
Before McCree could threaten him to freeze the door behind him burst open, catching him off guard for just a second until he turned to point his gun at the intruders. Four men stood at the door, all of them with their guns drawn, and stared Jesse down. He swallowed thickly. He should've saw this coming. God, can he do anything right?!
When Jesse heard a click sound his body tensed and immediately turned around to face you. His blood ran cold at the sight of your head hung low, shoulders shaking, and a gun pressed against the back of your head. "Oh, good, I wouldn't want you to miss this." A voice spoke. He didn't care who was talking or what was going on, all he could think of was "Why not me?"
The moment you looked up at him, that same soft smile from the day you two met on your lips, is when he realized that this was goodbye.
One gun shot was heard, followed by multiple laughs and a click. Another shot rang out but all Jesse could focus on was your body. He didn't even notice that the men around him began to fall to a similar fate as yours. He dropped his gun, a sound clank resonating through the room, and he reached out to you - to cup your face in his hands as he fell to his knees.
Oh God.
His throat clenched at the blood that dripped down your face. Funny. It reminded him of when you socked him in the nose. He felt his body tremble with a sob that he wouldn't dare let out as he stared at your face. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for you to get hurt. It should've been him. Please, god, it should've been him.
Jesse let out small hics as tears formed and fell down his face. He pressed his nose into your hair as his hands shakingly removed them from you, only to cling around your body instead.
He swears on his life that he'll avenge you and if it kills him, that's okay. If he dies then he'll be with you, and you can make him that drink you talked about.
ā» Hanzo was never sure how his dragons would react to you. They were fierce, loyal, and protective creatures that lived to serve their master(s). He feared that they'd deem you unworthy to be in their presence.
ā» It happened when you two were alone, meditating. He was in his usual kneeling position on a soft cushion, his hands resting on his thighs as he relaxed, while you were in the simple Bermese pose.
ā» Neither of you knew why it happened but you noticed a shift in the atmosphere and snapped your eyes open. It was a startling feeling, but not a bad one. It was more of a surprise. Your eyes had went to Hanzo to see his arm glowing the bright blue it does when he summons his dragons.
ā» That was your first and only warning before two dragons spiraled out of the male and twirled with each other in the air until they were high enough above you both, looking down. They stayed intertwined with each other while they floated aimlessly in the air. They seemed like they were waiting for you to say something.
ā» A soft, wonderous, "Oh." Was all that left your parted lips as you stared at the creatures in amazement. Sure, you've seen them on the battlefield but it was always for a split second. Seeing them somewhat up close made them look more majestic and beautiful. You could see the faint blue scales that reflected the lights from the room and their cat-fish like whiskers.
ā» As much as you had wanted to shake Hanzo out of his daze you kept him still as you slowly got up to a standing position.
ā» The dragons, old and wise looking, were swift to descend down from above and towards you. They seemed curious yet all-knowing. They knew who you were, they're always aware, and they wanted to personally meet you. The two being never understood why their master was so...hesitant to let them talk.
ā» It didn't take long until the dragons were just above you, staring down, and glossing you over.
ā» When they plopped themselves on the ground next to you, careful not to disturb their master, and nudged your hand onto the bridge of their nose did you notice that these dragons weren't as fierce as they seemed to be.
ā» You tried to keep your laughs down, you really did, but their whispers were so ticklish. And when they'd stick their tongues out slightly? You really hand to hold in the childish laughter that bubbled in you.
ā» Sadly, your non-relaxed state had broken Hanzo from his meditation, much to his displeasure, and he turned to face you.
ā» To say he was surprised would be an understatement. He was shocked, in disbelief, he couldn't believe his eyes! There you were, giggling to yourself, as his dragons continues to stick their tongues out playfully at you. His dragons. His fierce, loyal, protective dragons, were playing with you.
ā» He didn't disturb you three as you all played. He did feel a rush of relief wash over him as he wondered why he was worried to begin with? He loves you, so it's only natural that his dragons love you too.
Genji;
ā» When Genji would need his sword(s) to be sharpened, repaired, etc., he would always go to you. Hell, he'd even go to you if his armor was messing up or needed a polishing. It was your specialty after all!
ā» He never stayed around when you would be working. It's not that he doesn't want to be there, he does, but he knows how you love the quiet when you work. "It helps me concentrate!" You told him.
ā» When you'd be working he'd be with Zenyatta, meditating or just talking. The conversations linger from him reminiscing about the past, him talking about his day/week, or him talking about you. He always tried to not bring you up into every topic but he couldn't help himself... Zenyatta was okay with it, though, since he knew about Genji's play-boy past and how "true-love" was never his thing back then. Him having it now meant that he was growing, and Zenyatta was proud.
ā» Now, when you said that you liked the quiet it wasn't a total lie. You did enjoy it but there was something you enjoyed more. What is it? Well, it's his dragon of course!
ā» The lanky green creature first appeared when you were fixing Genji's sword for the fifth time in the span of three months. How he manages to bend or break the hilt that many times? You'll never know. What you did know, though, was that this creature was a lot less terrifying than when it's on the battlefield.
ā» The dragon loved to curl up around your neck like a snake and relax there and, sometimes, you swear you could hear it snoring. It never bothered you but you weren't sure how Genji would feel with his dragon being so affectionate and open with you.
ā» These were delicate, and sacred, creatures that shouldn't be taken lightly, you knew this but...how can you resist playing with it when it playfully bites your hands to get your attention?
ā» Don't tell anyone but you actually bought a few cat toys for when Genji lends you his sword.
ā» Genji only found out when he dropped his sword off and left for, maybe, four minutes until he realized that he forgot to give you his smaller one. He went back over to your little makeshift workshop and walked in on you holding a mouse toy, that was connected to the stick you were holding by a string, above his dragon.
ā» He watched in amusement as you quickly turned to look towards him, a bit embarrassed about being caught red handed, while his dragon continued to hover a few inches above the ground before slithering in the air towards the toy, successfully biting onto it this time.
ā» While you were at a moments loss Genji strode over to you with an teasing tone to his voice, "Is this why you wanted me to leave the room?"
ā» In the end he wasn't mad, of course not, and joined you in playing with his dragon. It was a great bonding experience for you three.
First off; I want to apologize for not posting anything. The requests will be done sooner or later, I can promise that, so please be patient.
The reason is a littleā¦weird if you donāt believe in this stuff but Iāve started to put effort into my Genji-kin and Iām also trying to look for other canon mates! (Mainly my Lucio.)
Iām slowly starting to develop more and more things with Genji and my main concern is figuring out what my memories are, haha-ā¦
This is a little scary to post since Iāve seen people whoāre kin with characters be told to kill themselves and I donāt want thatā¦
Anyways! Again, Iām sorry for not posting and I hope you can all forgive me.
When will requests be open again and do you do a post announcing when they are? Sorry if this has already been answered, I'm new to this blog (but I already love it!).
Donāt worry about it, love! First off; Welcome to this blog! I hope you enjoy your stay.
I do have two posts that I reblog from myself to announce that requests are open/closed! Right now theyāre closed. Iām not sure when Iām going to open them up since Iām too lazy to even finish the ones I have right now, haha-. ^-^ā
Isā¦is this supposed to insult me? Itās a very poor attempt, if it is.
Me expressing my distaste for things such as this is not me wanting attention, love, itās me /expressing my distaste/. Is this how you treat all survivors who donāt agree with you? Thatāsā¦a little sad, actually.
Although, I do love the attention so, please, continue to shower me in it. Youāll be wasting your own time more than youād be wasting mine.
Hey there! Just want to drop in and say I love your blog and your writing. I'm sorry you had to deal with disgusting people like that, but I'm really proud of you for speaking up and standing up against them. I hope you feel better, sending good vibes your way! <3
Honestly, when I saw her comment I wasnāt at all surprised. This isnāt the first time Iāve encountered Ms. Emerald and I doubt it will be the last.
She has a nack to try and defend things like this and come after anyone who calls it/her out.
I would just like her to know that me talking about my discomfort for things such as this isnāt being mean, nor is it being rude. Iām expressing my opinions and how unsafe I feel. Why is that so wrong? Why does she see it as something I should hide? If sheās allowed to share her vile content than why am I forbidden to share my discomfort? Iāll never get their logic.
Anyways, love, I appreciate your kind words and I hope you have a lovely day!
You are a literal pedophile that loves to talk about incest, abuse, and children in sexual situations. Donāt think I donāt know who you are. Everyone knows who you are.
But, yes, all of you shippers are basically saying itās okay. Donāt give me that āFiction =/= Realityā stuff because itās been proven that the statement is wrong.
Can I ask why rape doesnāt sicken you? Why something that hurts and breaks someone both emotionally and physically doesnāt make you feel bad? Can I ask why youāre telling ME to get help?
I have help. I have a therapist whoās still helping me through this, and a family thatās supporting me. Iām on my way to recovery. Itās sad to say that I canāt say the same about you.
And, by God, tell me where I was being rude? Show me specific lines where I said something mean. Iāll wait. I want this evidence.
Iām not scared of you, Scholar. You can send people after me, or you can come after me yourself, but I will not cower away. Youāre no one to me. Youāre just some pervert that I hope never interacts with kids or have any siblings.
I feelā¦gross. I interacted with this person. I thought they were alright. I expected something different - better. To think that I was willing to act buddy-buddy with them makes me feel disgusting.
Incest is not a kink. Abuse is not a kink. Rape is not a kink.
As someone whoās experienced this it sickens me to know that people get off to this. Yes, even if itās for coping. Just because you use it to cope that doesnāt mean itās okay. That doesnāt mean itās healthy.
Youāre still hurting yourself and thatās so heartbreaking.
When people call you out donāt try and act āmatureā. A mature person would listen, debate, and, when proven wrong, apologize. Theyād realize what theyāve done and would try to fix it; their mistake(s).
I know this is random - Iām an imagine blog, why am I talking about this? - but if you ship incest then please unfollow and donāt interact with me. This is for my own comfort and safety.
