warnings: smut, couch fucking, reader is in 20's, degrading, praises, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, ass spankin', dbf!bucky, au!steve'sdaughter, nicknames: honey, doll, baby, sweet girl, sweetie. use of daddy (bucky calling himself that).
a/n: just realized this old man sits on a couch alot. wrote this bc I love dbf!men and bucky is so yummy
thinking of dbf!bucky where he cant keep his hands to his best friends daughter who came back from uni, steve's daughter, when steve tells buck, "cant thank you enough, buck, for babysittin' her f'me, y'know how she gets when shes alone in the house." oh, buck is more than happy to watch over her.
"C'mon honey, do you think you can give me one more for daddy? yeah?" He would reach around your body to firmly rub your sensitive clit while pounding into you mercilessly into the couch, your hand gripping onto anything you could find for support. You've been teasing bucky since you two been alone in the house. He's been makin' sure you stay out of trouble while he babysit you, although you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, as said to your dad already. To get on buckys nerves, you've been wearing skimpy blouses and short shorts that are practically panties at this point around the house whenever bucky would be around, sitting closely to him in such attire while you both watched TV would make bucky resort to hiding his erection under a couch pillow.
Here you are, trapped under him after your little games finally broke his last straw. He manages to slip out of you, where you whine like a bitch in heat from the feeling of being so empty, hes doing this on purpose, edging you until you learn your lesson to not mess with daddy's best friend. It's unfair really, where your so exposed to him, your cunt dripping with your arousal while hes clothed, that Henley stretched agaisnt his braod chest while his pants are pulled down enough to where his cock springs against his stomach, glistening with your wetness and his own. He sits you onto him again without a warning, making you take every inch so easily with how soaking and sloppy he made your cunt to be. "such a fuckin' brat, teasin' me around this house like I wouldn't fuck your brains out, doll?" He pants, grinning as he manhandled you to straddle your knees bracketing his thighs, your ass seated on his lower stomach as he uses his hands to fuck you real nice and hard onto his cock, while leaving hard smack, smack, smack, onto your brusied ass with each thrust.
You whine onto for support, tears staining your cheeks as you try to find your voice, to almost beg for his mercy to go easy on you. "how you think y'daddy would feel seeing his sweet girl fucked out like this, huh?" He bites on your shoulder, his other hand going around to grope your breast so harshly, teasing your hardening peaks. His hand leaves your breasts, going back to your ass and spreading your cheeks, and kneading them together and smacking them, with each praise, "takin' me so well, you were made f'me, baby, yeah?" You nod mindlessly, feeling that knot in your stomach tighten with each bounce and of his thrusting up into you, where you grip his meaty thighs through his sweatpants, "b-buck, please, m'gonna—!" He grabs your hips so hard your sure they would leave bruises in the morning, but you're so put of it all you can think of is, bucky, bucky, bucky, and that knot in your lower tummy 'bout to bust. "Yeah? Gonna cum f'me, doll, c'mon, let go for me" He cooes, biting your neck and licking a long strip to your shoulder. He forces a few more thrusts up into you and you could also feel his movements faltering, becoming sloppy but harsh.
You cry out his name, the knot bursting and you swear you see stars, the whole room becoming so painful to look at for how much he keeps fucking you through it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you come down from your high, and bucky keeps fucking you through it until he comes so harshly that he moans lowly, which seems to be your name but so broken. You lean forward, your chest resting on his thighs, as he tips his head back, panting and his hands mindlessly knead the flesh of your sore ass. "Such a good girl f'me, good girl, such a sweet girl for takin' me so well." He praised, pulling you up and turning you while youre impaled on his half hardening cock, making you whine and whimper at the sensation. He caresses your fucked out face, chuckling and grinning like an idiot, "round two, baby?"
I started watching jack back in 2016. Its been just over 3 years, and i cant seem to pinpoint an exact moment where i thought, "yup. this one is different. he can stay." These moments pop up at different times. It's not just one single moment for me.
the earliest Special Something™ i can remember was when i watched him react to ppl reacting to him. he was so humble and so sweet. I remember thinking he was so freaking precious, i just wanted to hug him. I remember thinking "i just want to sit down and have a conversation with this guy."
I still have those moments. I still look at jack and think about how special he is. I have nothing but love for him.
when the first antipocalypse ended, and he posted the happy halloween video. he was just as excited as we were. he said "i fucking love you guys!!!" and he meant it, you could hear it in his voice. hes never not given a fuck about us and what he does!
I was lucky enough to meet him on august 23 last year. he wasnt lying when he said he likes eye contact. he went in for the hug. just before we left, he was talking to other people but he brushed my arm and said "it was nice to meet you." so small and trivial and mundane but FUCK thats stayed with me.
even more recently, a friend of mine got into his videos. we've literally been talking about how great jack is and its brought us closer! I haven't made any friends since joining this community, but it strengthened the bond with one of my old friends :')
the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au
WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction
read at your own risk.
previous.
Needless to say, Ethan had to pay for the damage. After Kathryn helped him clean up, he left behind whatever cash he could get ahold of and fled. He took his flight to Maine a little earlier than planned - that’s what he told the group chat, anyway.
The only thing is, he didn’t remember sending that message. He didn’t remember leaving, either.
To say that Ethan was shell shocked by his own actions was a bit of an understatement. He knew he had a knack for destruction every so often, but to break an entire couch with his bare hands? To cause damage through screams like El on Stranger Things? Hell, to fucking kill more innocent people?
Yes, over the last few months, Ethan found himself crying in some alley covered in blood because he took another life. He always called the team, and they helped him every time. Maybe that’s why he never left. He wouldn't know how to clean up his own mess and get away with it. He didn't even know how the team got away with it. To the public eye, these people were just YouTubers. Influencers. Idols. Good people.
That thought made Ethan's insides turn heavy. He was considered good people too. People online thought he was good people. Maybe some of those people were dead because of that thing, he would never know.
He was stronger than he thought, and he couldn’t control it. He was dangerous. He was bad. He should be on every kind of medication, or even locked up. He should be dead, but we all know how that ends up.
Was he going to turn himself in, though? Ethan sat in his car, parked in an abandoned lot on the outskirts of LA. He didn’t take anything with him when he left. He didn’t have any sort of getaway plan. He couldn’t even think. He didn’t remember getting into the car. This stupid thing did everything for him and landed him here. Didn't even get him very far.
Ethan just wanted to know why this was happening.
“I told you to stop this,” he spoke at last. He was sweating and shaking, breathing so hard that the windows fogged up. He couldn’t help but think of each time he saw one of his friends in this state. Did they feel as shaken up as he did in this moment?
Maybe he had to go back and talk to them. Ethan sat up in his seat and shook himself. He wiped away the tears and slapped his cheeks a few times, trying to get himself together again. He’d have to go back eventually, right?
He turned over the engine and took a deep breath. He had to face the music - the very loud, very disturbing music - eventually. Then, he adjusted the rearview mirror, only to discover a figure in the backseat. Immediately, Ethan jumped and tumbled out of the vehicle, his heart pounding.
There was a shadow. It was already dark inside the car, but Ethan could make out a shadowy figure in the back. He backed away, terrified, but then he felt something knock him over. An invisible force pushed him on his chest and made him hit the back of his head on the pavement. He landed directly under one of the lamp posts, the light nearly blinding him. Ethan squinted, disoriented. The silhouette of a person stood over him. The outline was oddly familiar, but still terrifying.
Then he felt something hit his chest, making his sternum crack. Slowly, each of his ribs broke one by one. Ethan cried and whimpered, convulsing and cringing.
“Please…” he begged through a strained voice. “I-If you want to kill me… just do it… please. I want this to be over…”
The mumbling filled his ears, sending another wave of intense panic. Ethan tried to bring his hands to his ears, but any movement caused even more pain in his ribs. He started to yell.
“Stop this! Please! I just want this to be over! I'll do anything! Please just stop!”
And then Ethan sat up with a deep gasp. There was nothing standing over him. He didn’t have any pain in his chest or ribs. The only thing that hurt was the back of his head. His car was exactly where he had parked it. He looked around the parking lot, not another person in sight. It was all in his head. Why couldn’t have someone just decided to rob him instead? Why couldn't he have been murdered once and for all?
Cautiously, Ethan got to his feet and dusted himself off. He slowly stepped towards his car, checking the surroundings. He felt weary as he sat inside again. It was more than obvious that something was very, very wrong. He still felt like he being watched. He could still feel the figure in the backseat, even if he couldn’t see it. He already knew what it looked like anyway. He knew what those eyes looked like.
“Please…” he said helplessly as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Please… just stop…”
Whatever it was probably grinned wickedly. It's black eyes creased through the mirror. It made every hair on Ethan’s arms and back of his neck stand up.
His face suddenly fell, and his head went limp, hitting the steering wheel. His eyes closed, and when he opened them again, they were pitch black.
~
“I told you guys not to have the party here!” snapped an angry Mark.
He and the team had just arrived to the trashed office on Kathryn’s call. In hindsight, it had seemed like a good idea to show Ethan the truth about what he is. But instead, they ended up with a damaged workplace and a friend who had gone off the radar.
“At this point, it would be easier just to tell him,” Tyler said as he stepped inside the place, gazing at the pile of broken furniture, ruined birthday decorations, and wasted food scooped up under the broken window. He shook his head in disbelief.
“What, and have him think we’re insane?” Mark bitterly replied.
“He thinks he’s the crazy one,” Amy spoke after some silence. For once she wasn’t smoking or shooting up. “His thoughts are so loud, even I can catch them.”
“You sure it’s his thoughts that are causing that?” Her boyfriend’s tone suddenly changed. He grew concerned. “Maybe it’s… you know.”
Amy sighed. “Then we already know what’s gonna happen.” Then she started itching at the side of her neck, noticing her peeling skin. She pulled her hand back and saw her skin getting caked under her nails. Startled, she dug her fingers into her neck again and pulled. A piece of her flesh came off like some stretchy glue. “Shit…”
It wasn’t the first time the team had seen something like this, but it was never easy. Tyler looked away, Kathryn placed her hand over her mouth, and Mark… he just had a look of heartbreak on his face. He knew what this meant, and he never liked it.
“Are you even gonna come back this time?” he asked, a hint of resentment in his tone.
“I always do,” Amy replied, not sounding reassuring at all.
“Okay, so we have to stay put for you,” Kathryn said, diffusing the tension. “Which means we can’t go out and find Ethan.”
“He said he was flying to Maine tonight,” Tyler said. “So we won’t see him for a couple of weeks, right?”
“I checked his apartment,” Mark told him. “Well, I didn’t… but he didn’t take anything with him. He’s still in the city somewhere.”
Thinking about Ethan made him angry all over again. Mark paced around the room, running his hand over his face. He looked at the floor, at the pile of rubble. How could a guy of Ethan’s size do something like this?
“Fucking coward can’t even show his face…”
“Better here than somewhere he could get in legal trouble for,” Tyler pointed out. “We can’t stray too far out these walls, remember?”
“Now we don’t have any walls to stay within!” Mark’s voice echoed. “He’s destructive and out of control!” He cracked his neck. “How long will these fucking mortals keep us waiting?”
Kathryn immediately looked around the room. Any bottle of liquor that had been coveted was now destroyed. She turned towards her boss again, watching his eyes roll into the back of skull just before he collapsed to the floor. This was bad. She slipped out of the room before they could spot her.
As soon as Dark was out, Peevils and Stoneface appeared too. The room went black, and their auras shone bright. The air was tense, angry. Dark was flickering all over the place, making the lights spark and burst.
“I don’t feel good,” Peevils said, out of breath as she slid down to the floor. “I can’t be here for very long.”
“We need you right now,” Dark told her as he appeared standing in front of her. “You’re the most… compassionate of the three of us. When the time is right, you need to be the one to speak to Blank.”
She sighed as she leaned her head back against the wall. “But my mortal… look at her!” She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling out a shocking amount of strands. She scratched at her chest, practically peeling off pieces of skin and leaving red, inflamed flesh underneath. “She’s falling apart. I need to go and fix her.”
“Perhaps, it’s time to find another mortal?” Dark suggested. “This one is… wearing thin. It would be much easier to find a new mortal.”
Peevils looked up, glaring at him. “Mine is wearing thin? Yours is all but-”
“Another time!” Stoneface cut her off. “What about Blank? What about the human? She could help us.”
“The human?” Dark repeated with disgust. “She went to get her friends’ coping items. We know whose side she’s on.”
“So why haven’t we killed her yet?” Peevils wondered. “If she’s so bad, then why haven’t we gotten rid of her?”
Dark looked at her, a hard look on his grey face. “Why would you even ask that?”
The blonde shrugged, unfazed. Then she raised her eyebrows, detecting the first sign of vulnerability, and she read him for the first time. “Oh… I see.”
“What is it?” Stoneface asked.
“Don’t you dare,” Dark growled.
Peevils scoffed and ran her hand through the image, once again reminding herself that she couldn’t touch him. “And what will you do about it? You’re nothing but a hallucination.”
Just as she was about to stand again, she was pushed against the wall. She felt an intense pressure on her neck, and then she was slowly raised up into the air. Her eyes widened in fear as she choked and sputtered, spitting up human blood.
“Dark, stop!” Stoneface yelled, trying to counter the attack with his mind. He succeeded, relieving the pressure.
As soon as Peevils was dropped to the floor, hey greyish yellow aura went away. She kept coughing and gagging, pulling at her hair and neck. Heavier tufts of hair were falling out, and blood kept dripping from her mouth.
“If the mortal goes, then Peevils goes!” Stoneface yelled at Dark, who had appeared by the broken window. “Do you want that?”
Dark merely stood on the other side of the room, his hands behind his back.
“You’re... “ Amy coughed violently. “You’re… nothing… without us…”
And that’s when Kathryn burst through the door again, ready to bring her friends back.
the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au
WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction
read at your own risk.
previous.
~January 2017
There were many, many wires. It was practically second nature for Ethan to feel the urge to strangle himself with all of them. But he was actually being watched this time. He was going to be watched the whole night, and hopefully something logical will come out of his disturbing sleep habits.
He had been putting this off for months for various reasons, one of them being that he was very busy. Another reason was that his sleep was so disturbed and spotty that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the cause of it. He also didn’t want any of his friends knowing that he was here, and it was hard to shake them off these days.
But now Ethan was here, lying in a bed, surrounded by machines, and hooked up to practically all of them. The specialist was a lady who had streaks of color in her hair. She had been very thorough with explaining everything that would go down tonight. Ethan paid attention to less than half of what she had said. The wires attached to different parts of his body would determine what exactly he does in his sleep. That was the gist of it, right?
The only problem was that Ethan had walked into the clinic feeling the least tired he had ever felt. He looked up at the white ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. Then he picked his head up and looked through the window on the opposite end of the room. The colorful haired lady was on the other side, writing something on a notepad, not paying any attention to her patient.
Ethan returned to staring at the ceiling. He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. As soon as they were shut, he felt moisture in the corners of his eyes, trickling down his face. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Was he asleep already?
He could still feel his surroundings. He was still laying down on the bed. There were wires still attached to his head, chest, and arms. He could feel goosebumps on his skin as the room got ten degrees colder. Oh no…
Suddenly, Ethan could see the room. The colorful haired specialist was still on the other side of the glass except… she was glitching? One flash was her just sitting and staring, then she was limp in the chair with her neck split open and her eyes burned out of her skull. It made Ethan actually vomit, except he couldn't open his mouth, so he choked.
He tried to move, but the wires felt like restraints. His body was stuck to the bed. Not only that, the mumbling was starting to return, just behind his ears.
No, please…
Coughs finally came out, and Ethan was sick all over himself. Dark red stained blood his skin and his white hospital gown. He still couldn't move, despite how repulsive and absolutely disgusting everything was. He just wanted to get out of his own skin.
Good idea.
No!
It started at the bottom of his feet. Searing pain was moving right underneath his skin. Ethan couldn't scream out loud or cry for help. He internally yelled at himself that none of this was real. It's all in his head.
Of course it's happening in your head, but why should that mean that it's not real?
The mumbling was getting louder. The skin was getting ripped off his legs, slowly moving up his body. It was unbearable, Ethan wanted to strangle himself with the wires. He wanted to inject something into his chest to make it all stop. He would much rather cut into his veins again.
And then it happened. Ethan was staring up at the white ceiling, and he felt a thousand white hot needles poke into his arms at once. He screamed, but no one heard him. He coughed up more blood, he choked and sputtered. He could feel someone standing over him, their face slowly coming into his line of vision. The vision flashed so quickly that Ethan couldn’t make out any facial features.
Make it stop. Please just make it stop. I'll do anything, I just want this to be over.
~
“Alright, Mr. Nestor, you're all set to go,” said a kind female voice.
Ethan's eyes opened. Of course that had all been a dream. He felt the specialist remove all of the wires from his body. He kept his eyes away from her, not wanting to be reminded of her burnt out eyes.
“How long was I out?” he asked, his voice raspy.
“The whole eight hours,” she replied as she removed the last of the wires. “You were perfectly still and undisturbed throughout the night. We'll give you a call as soon as we see the results.”
Ethan left the clinic feeling completely unrested and shaken up. He could still barely make out the mumbling in his ears and it made him even more uneasy. This wasn't a medical problem after all. There wasn't a logical explanation for this.
He got into his car and just sat there for a moment. He felt strange. Confused. Very out of place. His reflection in the rear view mirror was in his peripherals, but he didn’t dare look at his own face. His skin was crawling so much he scratched at his arms. The only thing he knew now was that he never wanted to sleep again.
The drive back home was a blur. Ethan spaced out a lot, even without whatever was going on with him lately. He was always aware of this little quality, but now it freaked him out. What if he spaced out long enough for him to not come back? What if whatever he saw in his sleep came back and took over?
“That’s ridiculous,” he breathed out as he entered his quiet apartment. Suddenly he didn’t like living alone anymore. “It’s just a dream.”
It’s not like he saw anyone anyway. It was just a bunch of bad feelings and physical pain that was a little too vivid.
~March 2017
No matter how bad things are, conventions always did some good. It was why Ethan looked forward to PAX East in Boston. Well, he always looked forward to it, even when bad things were not happening in his life. It was fun to meet people in his community and hang out with his long distance friends. Plus, he got to visit home for a while too.
Being close to home helped quiet down the things in Ethan’s head. He noticed that when he was home last Christmas. He didn’t have a single nightmare, and he didn’t hear any mumbling in his ears. He still hung himself in his room late at night, but having less weird things around him was better than what he got in LA. You could say that Ethan missed home because it kept whatever this was quiet.
Three of his YouTube friends offered to room with him for the weekend. For once, Ethan turned down all the offers. He couldn’t risk having any of his friends seeing what he does in his sleep. He felt bad about denying everyone, but it was for the best. He just had to come up with a valid excuse as to why he had to bunk alone.
The actual convention was just what he needed to boost his mood. Ethan was happily distracted by games, merch, and subscribers. He hung out with Kathryn, Brian, Sean, and Signe pretty much the entire time.
It was almost therapeutic.
Almost.
On the last night of the convention, Ethan found himself walking back to his hotel room, Sean at his side. A group of their friends met up at the bar in the lobby, and all Ethan knew was that there were many shots involved. Sean decided to bring him upstairs. Good friend, a very good friend. But if it was Kathryn, then Ethan wouldn’t feel as anxious about the things his drunk self was going to spill.
“I don’t normally do this,” Ethan mumbled. “You’re a good friend, I love you so much.”
Sean put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “Of course, man. I’m here for you. You really went at it tonight. Like you were drinking away your demons.” He chuckled.
Ethan wasn’t tipsy enough to miss his friend’s almost knowing tone. But he was tipsy enough to keep talking.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Silence dawned between the two of them as they walked down the hall. Sean looked down at the floor, putting his hands in his pocket. Ethan tried to see past the haze in his head. He spoke again when they approached his door.
“But I’m fine.” He wasn’t sober enough for this shit. “Thanks for bringing me back…”
“I know what you mean,” Sean finally spoke while Ethan fumbled for his key. “I don’t know why we’re like this. You’d think we would be happier, given all that we have.”
Now Ethan felt the need to help his friend. This was something he had never heard from Sean before.
“You would think I would be able to sleep more.” He wasn’t sure what made him say that.
Sean gave him a confused look, and then took the key from Ethan’s hand. “Okay, you definitely need to go to bed.”
At least Ethan could use the excuse of too much alcohol for his nonsense.
“You would think I wouldn’t hear things that aren’t there…”
“Okay, bouncing baby boy…”
Sean followed him inside the room. Maybe he wanted to listen in more on Ethan’s drunken rambles.
“I think I'm immortal,” Ethan whispered.
He stumbled past Sean to get to the bed, but a hand went tightly around his upper arm. Ethan wasn't drunk enough to mishear the change in Sean’s tone.
“Let's find out, shall we?” It was turned rough and grainy, like it was glitching in real life.
Ethan yelled as he was shoved into the wall. He swore he heard it crack behind him. He looked into his friend’s eyes; They were suddenly pitch black. One eye looked like it was leaking black tears going in all directions. Then he heard a clicking sound, and his body acted on its own.
He wasn't sure what made him do it, but Ethan instantly raised his arms to deflect Sean’s attempts to stab him with a pocket knife. The point of the blade came way too close multiple times, making the adrenaline spike through Ethan’s body.
His hands caught Sean's wrist before the knife could meet his heart. Ethan was breathing rapidly, his mind blank, holding his friend back with strength he didn’t know he had. His fingers dug into the black long sleeve, and he heard the slightest crackling sound coming from the bones.
Sean growled under his breath, madness in his black eyes. Then, in the blink of an eye, he pulled a second knife from his pocket and slashed across Ethan’s stomach.
Ethan gasped, feeling several things gush from his abdomen. He gurgled and groaned as he felt the knife puncture his torso multiple times. His hold on Sean's wrist loosened, he was sure to die this time around.
He felt himself slipping away, but his body still moved. Ethan’s hand snatched the first knife away. Then, as if he was being propelled forward, he pushed Sean into the opposite wall, the knife piercing him right through the throat and into the plaster. Sean choked and spit blood in Ethan’s face, and returned the favor by sticking the knife right into the boy’s chest.
The two stared at each other, still holding the handles of the knives. Ethan would have panicked, had he not felt his own blood drenching his body. Sean's eyes went back to their usual blue, except they were faint and staring without seeing, and he loosened his grip on the knife.
Ethan stumbled backwards, his vision blurring. He just killed his friend. He needed help. He needed to tell someone.
He mustered up enough strength to get out of the hotel room and limp down the hallway. What was Mark's room again? Were they even on the same floor?
His vision went blurry. He stumbled into somebody's door.
He felt himself falling… But suddenly he was walking again… He had tunnel vision, almost like he was peering through the lock on a door. He moved down the hall… Ethan was too weak to continue watching… Maybe someone found him…
~
Ethan woke with a start. He was lying on a bed, covered in blankets and cold sweat. He sat up, looking around the dark room. He almost thought he was still dreaming because he was in his bedroom in Los Angeles.
“The fuck…?” he whispered as he got out of bed. He walked around the space, searching for the light.
Well, it was definitely his room. His apartment. Wasn’t he in Boston last night? Wasn’t he supposed to be in his hotel room?
Suddenly, a deep knot formed in Ethan’s stomach. The hotel. Sean.
That had to be a dream, right? There was no way…
Next thing he knew, Ethan was running out the door to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, tore off his unusually sweaty t-shirt, and looked at his body. He could still barely feel the knife going through his chest, yet the skin there was unmarked. He remembered walking around with the handle of the knife sticking out of his body. He could feel his insides-
Ethan physically gagged. It was way too real to be a dream. He turned on the sink and splashed water on his face, trying to get back his sense of reality. Whatever was going on in his head, whatever was living in there… It was playing with him.
He jumped when he heard his phone ring in his room. Since when did he have the ringer on? Ethan felt weary as he stepped back into his room. His phone was left on the nightstand, and it was lit up with a new text message.
Sean: “Look at us being crazy bois!!”
It goes without saying that Ethan cleared that notification without looking at the attachment. So Sean was definitely alive. It was wild that Ethan had to confirm that. Did he dare ask Sean if he remembered what happened? Was it even Sean who texted him?
Aside from that, how did Ethan not remember coming back home? Did anyone else remember him coming back home? Surely not, considering that Ethan probably would have had more texts and concerning phone calls from the friends he saw. He looked through his social media and found nothing weird on his part. What the hell was going on?
Whatever this was, it didn’t want to be seen. That’s why his sleep test results were normal. That’s why PAX East went well.
This thing wanted only Ethan to know about it. It wanted Ethan to go crazy trying to figure out what it was. That was the only thing he was sure of. He was definitely losing his mind.
this is not a dream #8 | the wrong side of reality
the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au
WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction
read at your own risk.
previous.
~October 2017
“What do you mean you're going home for your birthday?”
Ethan was used to hearing shit like that. Somehow, he was easier to convince these days. It wasn’t only the people he spent the most time with who were able to sway him. Over the last few months, Ethan felt a looming presence over his shoulders. It was like someone was constantly following him and breathing down his neck. It wasn't like the team, who would constantly pester him with stupid shit. This felt more sinister, and it had more control over Ethan than anyone else.
He didn't like admitting it, but it was probably safe to say that he was possessed, or losing his mind.
“I want to spend my birthday with my family and friends back home,” Ethan finally responded without taking his eyes off the computer screen. He lost his focus on the video he was editing, but he didn't really want to look at the group.
“We're friends,” Amy said cautiously. “Practically family, and you live here now, so you're already home!”
“Yeah, why wouldn't you want to be here with us?” Kathryn added.
“You really don't want me to answer that,” Ethan told her. He didn't notice how silent it had gotten, he didn't really care at this point.
Separation from the team was probably for the best. That's what he wanted to believe, anyway. Being around this group had gotten to be suffocating over the last few months. Ethan was still getting tormented by them, usually in the form of passive aggressive comments. He wasn't sure how he made it for almost a whole year.
Actually, he did. He moved into his own apartment a few months prior, so having his own space helped his sanity… when it came to the people he worked with. That, and he was constantly reminded of how he got here in the first place, so he felt bad about any thoughts he got about quitting. Where else would he go anyway?
Then, there was the thing following him. He still wasn’t sure how it worked. It could control things outside of Ethan’s body. These days, Ethan was waking up every morning with at least one new sticky note on his pillow, desk, or keyboard. It disturbed him so much that he eventually stopped buying notepads, notebooks, or anything of the sort. It didn't really matter what these notes said (usually something eerie or borderline threatening), Ethan just knew that this thing was up and running in his sleep. He still didn’t know what was going on, or why this thing in his head was doing this.
He wasn't unconscious for days at a time anymore,like at PAX. Ethan still didn't know what happened during that weekend, but maybe it was better off that way. All he knew was that Sean had no recollection of the hotel room incident. Not to mention Sean was definitely still alive, judging by the steady stream of videos being put on his channel. Was he immortal too?
Anyway, Ethan was very close to turning 21. At this point, he just wanted to party and drink the stress and dark feelings away. He needed it to happen, and he needed it to be far away from this city and these people. It wasn't just the thing in his shadow saying that. And yet-
“We'll party here!” suggested Mark. “Before you go back to Maine. We'll throw a party for you!”
“Do we have to?” Ethan asked softly.
“I'll make some calls to get a caterer,” Tyler said as he grabbed his phone. “And a DJ, maybe?”
“Yes! Oh!” Amy exclaimed. “What if we go to that trampoline place after?”
They all made plans, disregarding Ethan's wishes. It better be a damn good party.
~
First sign of disappointment: Ethan was summoned to the office on the afternoon of this birthday party he had no say in. He did get excited over the days, though. For once, the team were actually nice about this. They had gone through all this trouble of planning it, though he wasn't sure how or why they agreed to have this party at the office.
He went into the building, noticing the empty halls and unusual silence. Were there no people here? Then he walked into the office, except it wasn't the office. The couch and armchair were still there. There were more chairs back to back each other on one side of the room, maybe to play a certain game. The small coffee table in front of the couch was spread with snacks, drinks, party hats and party favors. The desk against the wall didn’t have the computers on the surface anymore and instead had a massive sheet cake with bright blue frosting. There were also blue balloons all around the corners the room. Blue streamers lined the ceiling and the doorway. Ethan didn't even have blue hair anymore.
That was all that was here. The TV, computers, and any camera equipment were all gone. There was also nobody else in the room.
Ethan looked around, confused. “Is this a prank? Am I being filmed right now?” He checked every crevice for any hidden GoPros, but there were none. Surely there had to be one somewhere. Why else would there be no one here?
He went back out into the hall, listening for any other person. Why the hell is no one here?
“Hello?” Nothing. “Whatever, more cake for me!”
After putting on a shiny, blue party hat, Ethan plopped down on the couch. Then, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to the group chat.
“Having a rowdy time by myself!”
Not even a read receipt.
If this was a prank, what was it supposed to be? “Hey, let's ditch Ethan's birthday party! It'll be hilarious!” Real dick move. Just like the challenge videos. Was this a repeat of that, minus the cameras?
His hand twitched. He clenched it into a fist, not liking the weird tingles. It didn't take long for the daunting feeling of dread to creep up on him.
“Alright, you got me!” he called out, throwing his arms up in the air. “I'm losing my mind here! Ha, ha! Funny joke!”
He got up again, leaving the room. He scoped out the hall, looking in every room for anyone at all. Was this just a cruel joke? How did he not think of that sooner? Or did they just not like him? They went through all this trouble just to make that known. As if the rude comments weren't enough. They really did that.
Now fuming, Ethan went back to the party room, slamming the door so hard he heard something crack. He grabbed his phone again, checking the chat once more.
One read receipt. From the guy who made all of this happen.
Ethan wanted to scream. Instead, he chucked his phone across the room, making it shatter against the window. He was losing control, he was slipping away, but the sound of the device shattering into a million pieces was cathartic in a way.
He went to the coffee table, shoving the food onto the floor. He crushed the flimsy hats and plastic cups in his hands and then threw them on the floor as well. He grabbed the knife that was meant for the cake and took it to every single balloon. Then he rammed the blade into the couch cushion.
Even that wasn't enough. He couldn't stop himself from throwing the chairs around too. Some hit the walls, making several cracks and dents. One chair hit the whiteboard, making it detach from the wall and fall to the floor with a loud bang. Another chair went out the window. It felt good.
In a blind rage, Ethan went to the desk against the wall. He pushed it off its legs, making the cake splatter all over the place. Frosting speckled onto his face. It reminded him of Marsha.
He couldn't take it anymore. It was bubbling up in his throat, threatening to spill all over the floor. Ethan stormed around the room, huffing and puffing as he pulled at his hair. He punched the wall once, twice. Then his knuckles were bleeding.
The sound of the door opening caused Ethan to turn around. He wanted to speak, ask questions, cry. But instead he let out a blood curdling scream.
The windows cracked and shattered at the sound. The TV on the wall rumbled and came crashing to the floor. The metal table that had been turned over suddenly bent like it was squished together. The entire room shook, including the person who had walked in.
Kathryn stood at the doorway, holding a neatly wrapped gift. She had been rooted to the spot as she watched her friend yell his lungs out. Her eyes then scanned around the room, disturbed and startled. Then she looked back at Ethan when he finally went silent.
Blood was dripping out of his mouth and his nose. His eyes that were once alight with rage were now soft and drained. His voice was raspy as he spoke one last time.
what video/series has made you the most happy, sad, thoughtful, or relaxed?
undertale is always one i go back to. although now I notice just how energetic and over the top jack was at the time. it is a bit much, I'm not gonna lie, but that was the kind of energy I needed at the time. it rubbed off on me and I felt a little more,,, perky I guess. undertale is also the game that got me back into video games. I've been reflecting on this for a while.
I was so into gaming when I was a child. me and my brother bonded over things like sonic heroes and kirby & the amazing mirror. somewhere along the way I lost that love (blame the jonas brothers and almost any pop culture thing in the early 2010s.) it wasnt until I watched jack play undertale and I saw him have a freaking blast with it that it sparked something in me. fast forward a couple of years and I'm buying a switch and finding joy in games again. my own mother even saw me playing on it and she got emotional because it reminded her of when me and my brother would play as kids. not to mention things like mario kart and smash bros gave me and my cousins reasons to hang out more.
ANYWAY I'm going on tangents. it wasnt just because of the game undertale, it was watching someone like jack get so invested and so moved by a game. undertale makes me happy. it also relaxes me. watching jack play undertale feels like catching up with an old friend.
ps: I think it goes without saying that the deltarune series fits into this as well
