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mushpired · 2 years

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I know that is usually ghost the one that doubts getting in a relationship with soap, but let me switch it up, mainly because I like to make my favorite characters suffer, but also because I like projecting, so, yeah

Angst warning? With a happy ending don’t worry.Idk, I’m new to writing, and English isn’t my first language so, please excuse any grammar mistakes. I will also include my personal headcannons for the characters, but I’ll try my best to not switch it too much? May be ooc

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No soy para ti

(Im not for you)

A ghostsoap fanfic

Soap was sitting in the common room of the base, the old couch slightly uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to be picky about it, his team hadn’t been given a mission in a while, and he was starting to get restless. Logically, he knew that he still had other chores, but they didn’t compare to being out in the field. The young sergeant had been doing everything to keep himself busy, from his normal duties like training recruits and filling paperwork, to things that only worked to use some time and to distract himself, like drawing and training.

<¿Cuánto amor desaparecerá?

¿Cuánto tiempo más tendremos que llorar?>

Now, he had already done all of that, so that’s how he ended up here, Gaz was laying with his head on his lap, while Soap gently carded his fingers through his best friend’s hair, the two being the youngest on the team made it really easy to become friends, and he was really grateful for that, life on base could get quite lonely sometimes, he was used to being lonely really, people found him annoying and impulsive, and most people took his extroverted personality as an excuse to call him dumb just because he didn’t mind sharing with others. He hated that, how people underestimated him just because of how he acted on his free time. And really, he had been underestimated a lot in his life, treated as nothing, so at one point, he had actually stopped trying to prove people wrong. He simply acted how people expected, older ones treated him as a child, so he offered no respect to them (except for Price and Laswell, they never underestimated his abilities, even praised him for them) people his age often treated him as just someone to have fun with, never offering help when he needed it, never being there for him ( Gaz proved him wrong on that one, he was always there for him when his brain became too much, and the sounds too loud) and the ones he was interested in treated him as nothing but a pretty face with a nice body to fuck, he was nothing but that, something that people could use when they wanted, and he hated, hated, hated-

<Mejor que acabe aquí

Mejor dejarte ir

Si nos queremos tanto, ¿para que sufrir?>

A noise and a hand from the man on his lap brought him out of that self deprecating tirade his brain was going on, bless Gaz and his ability to read him when things got bad.

“Hey man, you ok? I lost you there” he said, as he used his hand to place soap’s own hand on his head again, making him continue with the soft touches, that bastard was like a cat sometimes.

“Aye, sorry man, got quite lost there” he replied, as he continued with the caresses on his friends head.

“Don’t hesitate to tell me, ok, you know I’m here for you, Soap” those words, no matter how many times he said them, always created a lump on his throat, the genuine care always made him weak.

“Aye, sergeant” he replied, with a teasing manner

“Asshole” the other man laughed, as he swatted at soap’s thigh, all in a good manner of course

The laughed for a while before Gaz went back to closing his eyes, and Soap simply stayed there, for once enjoying the peace and quiet, the sun was just starting to set, the orange light making the scene quite warm. Of course, peace never lasted much in a military base, as the loud voice of their captain entered the room, making him jump slightly and Gaz groggily opened his eyes, the man had been entering the sleep realm, it seemed. He laughed internally at that.

Price was entering the room, Ghost behind him, they looked at the two on the couch, Price raising an eyebrow at the intimate moment they seemed to walk into, and Ghost, oh that man, looked at them with something in his eyes, Johnny may have even described it as jealousy, but what would he even be jealous about? Johnny was simply making things up at this point.

Price sat on a wooden chair near the couch, while ghost simply leaned on the table near the wall, crossing his arms.

“Gentlemen, I see you getting quite cozy here, we didn’t interrupt anything right” the old man said with an annoying voice, Price knew of his crush on the masked man, and he was always annoying about it, he regretted telling him sometimes.

“Yeah yeah, what is it captain?” Said Gaz, quite annoyed that his sleep had been interrupted.

“Just checking in, ran into Ghost here at the hallways and forced him to come, I know that no mission can be quite frustrating, specially after Las Almas” and yes, he was right, Las Almas felt like year ago, when in reality, Soap was still being bothered by the pain of that gunshot.

“Something tells me we ain’t gonna be moving any time soon, mm?” Said Soap, Gaz was still on his lap, but was now playing with Soap’s hands, it was quite relaxing for both.

“Exactly” said Price with a heavy sigh “we haven’t been informed of any mission, so we will be basically grounded on base for a while, of course, everyone still has their duties, but yeah”

Ghost, who has been silently watching the room, straightened up and sat on other of the wooden chairs. And really, Soap knew he was down bad for that man, because no one ever looked so beautiful while doing something as simple as walking for heavens sake!

“So? That’s all Price? I know you didn’t drag me here just for that” said the man with the mask, quite annoyed at not being in his room right now.

“That’s all the news really” he said, but continued with “ I know you all had been barely taking care of yourselves, so you will all stay here while I make dinner, understood?” He finished with a no-nonsense tone, it wasn’t a request, nor a question, it was an order.

Gaz and him often joked about the captain being like a dad, but even while joking, that never failed to warm his heart, so he stayed there, waiting for dinner, like they weren’t all men who killed for a living.

________________. _________________

Ghost was still sitting at the table. Dinner had ended, Gaz had already left to his room, Price following shortly after, complaining about some paperwork he still had to complete, that left him alone with Johnny, the man was quiet, simply enjoying being there. Ghost was enamoured with that man, he was almost obsessed with him, and wasn’t that a dangerous thought, the Scot has broken through his walls, and took a place in his cold heart. Damn him.

He has to admit, walking in the room and seeing that scene with his Johnny really made his stomach move , knowing that the man is not his, and also knowing there’s nothing but pure friendship going on between the two sergeants, but still, jealousy was quite a bitch. He still felt the need to ask, just for his own peace of mind, if the man had something for the other sergeant, just to soothe the jealousy or stop giving himself hope, he preferred the former one.

Maybe he was becoming dumber, because he found himself asking “Hey Johnny, are you and Gaz… something?” He immediately felt like slapping himself for such and idiotic question, he was The Ghost, a cold murdered, not some high school girl with a crush, for fucks sake!

“What? No! Why would you say that!” Replied soap, looking almost scandalized. It was kinda funny.

“Just asking, I guess even I am able to be curious” lame answer, gods! What was happening to him, why was he suddenly hopeful.

“Nah, we just friend you ken? It’s kinda hard to make friends in our line of work” said the scot, looking kinda sad.

“Yeah… I know” it had suddenly turned grim, the atmosphere, if making, and keeping friends was hard, love was almost impossible, right?

—————————————————————————-

Soap didn’t know what to say, that realization, saying it out loud, it was kinda sad, knowing there was no chance for love, love was a mistake in this line of work, one could only hope of living past 30, and love was not for those destined to die a horrible death.

Si eras tan feliz, tan feliz

Ya no pierdas tiempo, da vuelta atrás

He was not meant to love.

He was not meant to be loved.

He would never be loved.

Ghost, would never love him.

<No soy para ti, no soy para ti

No seré siempre joven, mi amor

Así es mejor>

With the vibes of the room now ruined, he decided to go sulk in his room, where no one could see, or hear him.

“ Hey L.T, imma head to bed, see ya tomorrow sir” he said, and started a fast almost desperate pace to his room, not even waiting for ghost to respond, his footsteps were almost erratic, his nails pressing, piercing the skin of his hand with how strong he had balled up his fists, he was barely able to see where he was going, muscle memory being the only things taking him to his room on shaky legs.

Just when he felt like he was reaching his room, a voice and a hand on his shoulder made him turn and flinch away.

Ghost.

Ghost had followed him, he was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear him, he felt like he was under water, good heavens, he probably looked like a fool, an idiot, hyperventilating on the hallways for no reason. Fuck, Ghost will think he’s a mess, that he’s useless, that he’s an idiot, fuck fuck fuck FUC-

Suddenly, his head was pressed against a chest, one ear listening to a heartbeat, the other covered by a big hand, safe.

“-ey, hey, Soap, you hear me?”

Ghost was holding him, pulling him up, above water.

Soap never wanted to move, he wanted to float on this mans chest forever.

He closed his eyes and tried to match his breathing to the steady heartbeat.

—————————————————-

Shit, Ghost didn’t know what he was even doing, sure, he has had his fair share of panic attacks, but that doesn’t mean he knows how to help someone through one.

“Johnny, you with me?” He said tentatively, as he felt the man begin to relax.

“Aye, ‘m sorry, I dinnae ken what happened, I’m sorry” said soap, and god, why would he think he has to apologize, he would forgive everything Johnny could ever do without even him asking.

“Don’t apologize, happens to the best of us” he said, then he added “do you … want to talk.. about what caused this?”

“I… don’t really, I, just go L.T , please” said Johnny as he pulled away, turning away from him, and ghost wanted nothing but hug that man, cut himself open, and let Soap have a place in his own rib age, somewhere no one could ever hurt him.

“Was it about what we said?? About relationship in our line of work?” He tried communicating, and just like that, Soap tensed, jackpot.

“Please, just leave, please” ghost couldn’t leave, he couldn’t leave this man here, like this, how could he ever part from this man, who clearly needed someone.

“Johnny I… I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, but let me understand, tell me” he tried with a soft approach, but he didn’t expect what happened next.

<Sabes bien que te lo advertí

¿Cuántas veces más tendremos que morir?>

“I SAID GO, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY ROOM! LEAVE ME ALONE, LET ME ROT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! GO ON SAY HOW STUPID I AM! GO! GET OUT!” Soap shouted, tears down his face, his features turned into something hurt, and ghost knew at that moment, even with the anger pooling in his gut, that this man, that Soap, that Johnny, was beautiful.

<Debemos controlar la sensibilidad

Tienes tanta vida, ¿para qué llorar?>

“WHY WOULD I EVER DO THAT! DO YOU REALLY THINK I COULD DO THAT TO SOMEONE I LOVE?! DO YOU THINK I WOULD DO THAT TO YOU!? FOR FUCKS SAKES JOHNNY! JUST TALK TO ME!” He said , and fuck.

He just said to this man that he love him.

He was fucked.

——————————————————

Okayyy so this is getting long, so I will definitely do a second part during this week, tell me if it’s something you would like to read!

The title is by “ No soy para ti” by Mon Laferte.

Please leave your comments! They would be very much appreciated!

#ghost/soap #soap x ghost #soap call of duty #soap mw2 #soapangst #soap x ghost angst #gaz call of duty #price call of duty

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bludhavents · 3 years

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things that each greaser struggles with:

these are mostly headcanons i came up with. also, this gets pretty angsty.

content warning: alcoholism, addiction, anxiety.

darry:

- maturity. he thinks everybody looks at him like the “dad” of the group instead of just another friend, and he loathes it. he misses whenever he was able to skip work to catch a movie at the drive-in or take ponyboy and sodapop up to the dingo for lunch.

- accidental intimidation. his build is very large and strong, which is good for his job and for when he’s actually trying to, well, intimidate people, but other than that it just makes him feel guilty for being so unapproachable.

- relationships. specifically, darry is very insecure in his relationship with pony. he especially hates it whenever pony dogs on him for forgetting things or accusing him of not caring.

- emotional intelligence. he knows he comes across as cold. and he hates it. he has lots of emotions and he doesn’t air them out in a healthy way, so he tries his best to cut all the emotions off altogether in hopes that the negativity will stop, but it just makes him feel even more insecure.

- social skills. in high school, it was all much easier for him, but now that he’s working full-time and running the household, he’s fallen majorly behind in the social scene. he never goes out to the drive-in or to the dingo, and at first it was because he was too busy, but now, even if he doesn’t have a shift, he’ll make up some excuse because he’s too nervous to go and have to talk to people again since he feels like he’s gonna mess up.

- identity. darry was just starting to feel comfortable in himself and in his role in the world right before his parents died, and when they did, he stopped trying to figure out what made him happy. it has made him insecure of the emotional stint that is centered around his ego and sense of self.

sodapop:

- smarts. it’s canon that he’s insecure about this.

- growing up. while everybody else moves on to new things and grows up, he feels like he’s stuck in the same place watching everybody else progress while he stays behind. this was especially true after sandy left, because marrying her was going to be this huge exciting step in his life and when she left, he didn’t have that fulfillment anymore.

- reassurance. he feels a constant need for approval, and he will take it wherever he can get it. there’s a sort of pride he gets whenever he sees a girl checking him out, but there’s a deeper feeling telling him that she’s gonna run away once she finds out about how ‘stupid’ he is.

- authority. soda has a really hard time talking to people who are in a position of power. he gets all nervous and his hands get sweaty and his face goes sheet white in panic. his charm and social skill is enough to satisfy a conversation with a person his age, but he feels silly trying to be confident in front of an adult. he feels like they look down on him and will laugh.

- fatherhood. he’s very insecure about having a family in the future. he feels like he never appreciated his dad’s skilled parenting while he could, and since then darry has been a sort of fatherly figure in the house, but it’s hard for soda to see it that way. he grew up for 16 years with darry as a big brother and for him to suddenly be forced into a father role is troubling for soda. because of this complicated dynamic between soda and fatherhood, he feels like he won’t be able to be the best father possible for his children.

- legs. he hates his legs. you will never see soda in a pair of shorts, not even when he’s swimming. he doesn’t like the way they’re shaped and thinks that they make the rest of his body look odd, so he wears loose jeans to hide them. he’s also embarrassed of being embarrassed about them, so nobody knows, not even steve.

dallas:

- emotional intelligence. his lack of emotional intelligence is something he battles with a lot. he understands what people are feeling, but he has a hard time understanding why they feel that way. he says it’s because he’s too tuff to deal with emotions, but deep down he knows it’s because he was thrust into a traumatic childhood so early on that he never had time to build emotional bonds with people that would strengthen his empathy and understanding.

- his past, another canon take. he hates talking about it, even the good stuff, because when he thinks about new york all he can picture is 10 year old dallas watching a man being covered in a white sheet by the paramedics on the side of the road. he thinks about his friends from there and knows they’re all either locked up or dead, and it ruins any enjoyment he gets from reminiscing on the good times.

- health. he definitely has crohn’s or IBS or something else that makes his stomach hurt whenever he eats, and it embarrasses him to no end. he’s always anxious that his stomach is going to start hurting when he’s with the gang and is going to have to find some excuse to leave. he smokes so much while he’s out with them to keep from getting hungry until he gets back to buck’s place.

- his friendships. the shepherd gang is close-knit. then, the curtis’ are brothers, steve has known them forever, and two-bit is outgoing enough to make himself fit in to the group. johnny is the closest person dallas relates to, and it’s the friendship hes the most secure in.

- his smile. he knows smoking ruins his teeth, and he knows they’re crooked all over, and he knows that when he smiles his lips crack and stretch out.

johnny:

- his appearance, canon insecurity. he looks young for his age, and when the gang found him in the lot after he was beaten by Socs, they all started treating him like he was young too. he didn’t think the scar on his face was tuff, it just reminded him of being attacked.

- his voice. this is less about how it sounds and more about him not being able to speak over the shouting at home. he hates yelling, and he won’t stand in to speak up for him cause he’s too afraid of being told to “stop yelling”.

- being average. johnny feels painfully average in everything he does. he’s tried to find a skill that he truly loves and wants to take time to be good at, but he always gets frustrated and quits before he can improve.

- romance. almost every aspect of it terrifies johnny. he doesn’t know what a healthy marriage looks like, what he does know was from Mr and Mrs Curtis, but seeing them die together warped his sense of love. he doesn’t understand why you would want to love somebody so much if you didn’t have to. he doesn’t like the “til death do us part” aspect of marriage, because it makes him feel trapped. he’s not afraid of commitment, he’s afraid that he will end up in a marriage like his parents’ and not be able to leave.

two-bit:

- alcoholism. he’s an alcoholic and he knows it, but he’s been stuck in the vicious cycle of addiction for such a long time that the only way he knows how to cope with the emotional baggage of addiction is to drink more.

- social awareness. as of now, he’s very self-aware and extremely skilled in reading a room, but he didn’t used to be. he used to crack jokes at the wrong time and get scolded for it, and it made him feel horrible. like he wasn’t able to experience all the same sad feelings as everybody else because they reacted differently to the sadness than he did. they wanted to process the sadness while he wanted to ignore it.

- being absent at home. he knows he spends the majority of time at the curtis house, and he also knows that his mother spends the majority of her time at work, which leaves his little sister at home alone. he has a good relationship with her, but he doesn’t like for her to see him drunk, and as his alcoholism progresses, that gets to be more and more often. he knows this, and it’s one of the main reasons he’s so insecure about his addiction, because she’s the one who let him know that it wasn’t a one-way street. his problem affected him and her.

- commitment. two-bit is young, but he feels old enough to know how relationships work. he saw his dad walk out on them, and he was never able to process how you could go from marrying someone to leaving and never looking back. at first, he thought that his dad was just a selfish jerk, but when he met johnny and saw that his parents were also married and simultaneously abusive, he convinced himself that all marriages were bound to end up that way. he believes that if the curtis’ lived longer, they would have eventually gotten bitter and tired of each other, because in his mind, that’s just what couples do.

ponyboy:

- confidence. he has a lot of insecurities, and they’re shared pretty evenly between physical and non physical. he doesn’t like his body or his eyes. he doesn’t like how impulsive and dramatic he is.

- security. not in himself, but in life. he’s permanently on edge, feeling anxious about who’s going to be around the corner and what would happen if he got jumped and how many Socs he’d be able to fight off in case anything happened. his parents’ sudden deaths did not help this. he feels like life is constantly tossing him around, and he never feels completely safe.

- emotional outbursts. this isn’t exclusive to ponyboy, but he struggles with it the most. he hates getting upset with people, and he hates hurting other people’s feelings. when he’s feeling too many things, he starts to speak without a filter and gets mad at the littlest things, and he knows that it makes everybody around him feel bad.

- fitting in. in contrast to johnny’s insecurity, ponyboy wants nothing more than to fit in. he’s tired of being the only greaser in his classes, he’s tired of his isolated taste in movies and theatre, he’s tired of being a track star, and he’s tired of all the pressure put on him since he isn’t average.

steve

- masculinity. his dad always enforces an unrealistic standard of being strong, independent, and logical. steve is inherently all of these things, but the pressure he feels to keep it up weighs him down.

- comparing himself to others. it started in middle school when he noticed all of the people liked sodapop more. from then on he couldn’t help but feel like soda was more attractive and charming, darry was stronger and smarter, two-bit was funnier and cooler, dallas was tougher and unbothered, johnny was more likeable and down-to-earth, and ponyboy was more creative and well spoken.

- addiction. there was a time in steve’s life where he was getting high every day. at first it was fun, but then he had to quit track because he wasn’t as athletic as he used to be. it ruined his health and motivation. he started working on cars more to keep himself busy, and it helped a lot, even got him a job.

- hyperindependence. steve’s biggest character flaw is that he can’t ask for help. whether it’s asking for help in school or asking for soda to hand him a tool in the garage, steve can’t bring himself to do ask. it makes him feel like he’s not good enough to do it on his own.

#the outsiders #steve randle #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #dally winston #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy x reader #steve randle x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade #johnny cade x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit mathews #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop curtis #darry curtis

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cmyknoise · 3 years

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c!Ranboo's character is such an interesting character, but there's one catch, a vast majority of the fandom has made his failing memory his character defining trait, which is where I think a huge problem comes in.

Because... okay, let's get into it. (Tagged long post bc this gets long <3)

c!Ranboo's identity shouldn't be centered around his memory stuff.

His issues with memory & cognition should be one of his character weaknesses/flaws/conflict, but his character shouldn't be centered around it.

Rather it should be moreso centered around his strong ideals, because even Ranboo's supposed core beliefs of being a centrist isn't even his strong ideals.

His strongest ideals have always been the safety of his friends and family, and doing the morally right thing, not the lawfully right thing.

Ranboo's character is far too centralized about him having memory issues, because when you just ignore that you see so many interesting character traits about him.

For example, he's funny. He has humor in most situations and can usually joke his way out of things- like his conversations with Quackity.

He's also very imposing which isn't intentional but it sort of just comes with what he is. He's a tall enderman hybrid who is very logical and rational in most senses, and he very often voices his thoughts in conversation. Again, you can see this with Quackity, Slimecicle, Foolish and Wilbur.

He also has a very mysterious aura that comes from his enderwalk and nighttime antics.

His knack for potions, enchanting, and smithing comes into play here too, as well as his wealth.

Because he's not snobbish or regal (like osmp!ranboo) and is actually pretty charitable with his wealth. He paid Foolish a lot more than originally asked, gave him totems, and even did that whole shulker deal.

And he's like, super smart because he thinks rationally. This is in such wild contrast to his friends- because Tommy & Tubbo are pretty impulsive.

c!Ranboo is super interesting, but his whole character shouldn't be defined by his memory issues. It should've always been about his relationships, because in reality that's what is most important to him.

He was friends with Niki and Fundy and I remember watching streams during New L'manburg where he really struggled with deciphering who was in the right & wrong, and that's when he realized there isn't any sort of black/white side, and there's a whole lot of gray.

Because yeah, he and Tommy had griefed George's house- but Tommy also took all blame for Ranboo. He liked Phil because Phil had saved his life. He was, at first, the epitome of people not sides. That has since changed, subtly, but that's what his character was.

There was a huge thing in New L'manburg where Ranboo would stick near the people who'd been kind to him, hence why he'd hang out with Phil (who'd saved his life in the Nether).

And like, he stuck around with Tubbo because Tubbo was kind to him, and ALSO with his contact with Tommy, he was one of the only people who could see they were both hurting during the exile era.

Ranboo had some super meaningful conversations with Tubbo that would proceed to allow Tubbo to realize the discs weren't just plastic and that Tommy's reason for clinging to them, in reality, was because to him they represented their friendship. And Ranboo was genuinely the only person at the time, other than Tommy, who saw the discs as a symbol, not an object. Then with Tommy, Ranboo would check on him, write him letters, and help in any way he could, which had helped in some way with Tommy's mental health, even if just a little.

And then later. Sure, he may live with Techno & Phil, but he chose Tubbo. Tubbo was always his priority it's the only reason he's in the syndicate- for Tubbo and Michael. And sure he's friends with Techno but it is very obvious who he'd chose if he was forced to- because he already has.

He's a centralist in the sense that he believes there are multiple sides to a story, and genuinely he's one of the very few people on the server who realize that. There are far too many people who only see good & bad, black & white, the extremes. And it's ironic that the character literally split up by black & white and his entire motif is extreme contrast, it's so ironic that he's one of the very few who actually see the shades of gray.

And I genuinely think it was interesting that not only could he see it, but he was able to show other people these sides.

It was his questioning of Doomsday I believe which would lead to some of Phil's very brief internal dialogue of 'was doomsday right?' (which, he didnt dwell on it, but it was Ranboo who'd made him even contemplate it).

It was his words that made c!Wilbur literally cry because no one had told him things like that before- related to him, believed that he wasnt 100% bad and that he could be good. Because Ranboo genuinely believes that.

In Hitting on 16, and during the Prison Breakout stream, he made choices above all else, to protect his family.

That is his primarily character trait, not his memory problems. His memory problems are a passive conflict, not an active trait.

c!Ranboo is more than the guy who has memory problems, yet that's what his character has been boiled down to. It's gotten so bad that I genuinely believe that it's carried over in part to the actual DSMP server. That's what he's known as.

So it's sort of hard for his character to grow. It becomes even harder due to the nature of his character having been passive for so long. He didn't agree with conflict, so he rarely found himself in it. Conflict isn't the only way for characters to grow within stories, but it's the primary thing that moves the story forward on the DSMP, so it becomes very hard for there to be any changes. And... cc!Ranboo absolutely tried.

Back in January of 2021 and up until the summer hiatus, Ranboo had actively been working on his character. From c!Ranboo doing secret experiments, to us getting to see him in his enderwalk state, and more, Ranboo was working on his character having some sort of change.

Then the hiatus, and pushbacks didn't help, and now he's dead. And as stated on an Origins stream, he was supposed to be revived only a few weeks after he'd died.... now how long has it been?

c!Ranboo, unfortunately and ironically is stuck in this literary limbo of being unable to move due to in story circumstances and out of story circumstances, and in my opinion a huge part of it has come from fandom interpretation effecting the way his character has gotten to move on.

c!Ranboo is such an interesting character the moment you make his memory problems a flaw or passive trait, rather than make it the key part of his character, because truly its not.

Once again, c!Ranboo is ultimately a protective, rational person. And I hope, if we do get to see him again, and he is revived, that we get to see that shine, especially if fan theories are correct in stating that he may lose his memory problems all together.

If that's the case, I think his character can really shine, and I think we can get some great moments.

He did once state that he'd start wars and kill anyone who dare touched his son, Michael. And well... not only has someone kidnapped him and held Michael for ransom, that same person killed Ranboo. I think he has plenty reason to be pissed, regardless of Michael having been rescued since.

Actually, with Michael safe, I'd say he has more room to make due on his promises, but that's just my hope.

#dsmp #dream smp #ranboo #analysis #c!ranboo #lemon's stuff #long post

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redorich · 4 years

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For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?

Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!

Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.

Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?

He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?

Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?

“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.

Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.

Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!

The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.

“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”

“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.

She laughs. “Thanks.”

Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--

He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.

“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”

“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”

The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”

Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.

“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.

“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”

“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."

"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.

"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."

Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”

“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”

The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.

As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.

Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.

“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”

The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.

“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.

The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.

“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.

Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”

They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.

He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”

“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.

“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?

“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”

Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”

“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.

“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.

“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”

“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.

Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”

“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.

“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.

“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.

Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.

“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”

He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.

The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.

“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”

Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.

“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”

“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”

“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.

The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”

“Etho...” Tango groans.

“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”

The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #captain puffy #zedaph #zedaphplays #impulsesv #tango tek #xisuma #xisumavoid #ethoslab #me.cpp #me.txt

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cafecourage · 3 years

Text

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #london fog tea #Lu Hyrule #Lu Four #Lu Wind #WIND THE PIRATE BROTHER!#thats the tag for just wind stuff lol #isekai au

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maybe-theres-hope · 3 years

Text

Those Four Words

So yeah I JUST finished Desperate Measures and I literally had to get this out before I could sleep.

5.03 Coda | 1.6k | Summary: How I would love to see them get their shit together. Title from the episode, referring to Eddie saying “We need to talk” because YES YOU FUCKING DO. *puts on clown nose*

Buck finds Eddie sulking on the bench in the locker room. Because this was becoming a pretty common occurrence as of late, he takes it on himself to do the best friend thing he always does, and walks in to sit beside him.

The fact that Eddie doesn’t automatically look up at him with annoyance--like he has most of the time Buck has done this in the past few weeks, when they both know what the conversation is going to sound like--is unsettling but not off-putting.

“Hey,” is his opener. Quiet and courteous of Eddie’s obvious pain. Buck’s good at this best friend thing. Had a lot of practice lately.

He gets nothing in reply for long, long moments. He waits it out. Eddie’s a closed-off guy at the best of times, but when he’s hurting, it’s like a steel wall is up between him and the world. Buck’s taken a sledgehammer to that wall a few times and it hasn’t ended pretty. Lately he’s been just simply knocking at it, hoping the man on the other side can hear that he’s not alone. That’s all he can do.

Then, “I broke up with Ana. Like. Officially.”

Buck is quiet for a moment. “Was there an...unofficial breakup before that?”

“I don’t know. Probably when I panicked twice in front of her at the mere mention of us as a family. Think that set off a few warning bells in her.”

Buck very carefully remains silent.

“Well, actually. I don’t know if it did because...she was pretty devastated when I told her it wasn’t going to work. Like she didn’t see it coming after all.”

“What did you tell her? At the official breakup, I mean.” Buck doesn’t move, doesn’t speak above a low tone that barely breaches the two-foot divide between them.

“Not the truth, that’s for damn sure. But. Something maybe close to it.” Eddie still hasn’t looked at him. His hand is half-over his eyes, fingers pressing at his temples like he’s trying to stave off a migraine. Buck’s presence is sometimes migraine inducing, he knows, but he doesn’t think he’s ever done it to Eddie.

...Maybe?

Nah.

Hopefully not.

“What’s...something like the truth?” he asks.

“Basically that I thought I could grow to love her eventually. I tried hard to do that, but...it’s never going to happen. I know it’s not.”

Buck remains silent, waiting.

“She...she’s not stupid. She figured out that what was sending me into...whatever was happening to me--”

Buck very pointedly does not point out that what was happening were full blown panic attacks, Eddie--

“--was triggered by the thought of a future with her. It’s not even that she’s a bad prospect. She’s perfect, actually. In every way except that she’s not... Nevermind.”

“So, she was good with Christopher, right? I mean, you said she was--” Buck’s concern is hard to hide. If she did anything to hurt Christopher or make him feel...any type of way, Buck will be livid. But he doesn't think that’s the case. He even likes Ana. She’s nice, friendly, caring. She’s just...

“She’s just not for me.”

Buck can clearly see this is distressing Eddie to the nth degree, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s never had to save a relationship before. And is that what he should be doing? Sure, he’s great at this best friend thing and he wants his friend to be happy--more than anything in the world--but he’s at a loss as to what the actual problem is here.

“But Eddie, you said yourself she’d make a great mother for Chr--”

“He doesn’t need another mother! He had one, and she’s gone. He doesn’t need another.” The raised voice makes Buck pause for a moment. It’s the loudest either of them have spoken the entire time, and he’s sure it has a lot to do with the Shannon of it all, but...it doesn’t seem like that’s the whole thing.

“I don’t know why I tried to force it. I knew it wasn’t going to work from day one. But she’s just...she was the best alternative.”

“Alternative to what? Eddie, what--”

“I’m in love with someone else! Okay? And I know I should have told her that, but I couldn’t. I can’t even...” he cuts himself off with a huff, but for the first time, he looks up to meet Buck’s gaze. His eyes are shining, but he’s not sad. He’s frustrated. Buck’s learned to tell the difference over the years.

Best friend and all.

He weighs his options, because this is brand new information to him, which is saying something, and he’s not quite sure where to go from here.

Sure, he absolutely knows where he wants this to go, but. He’s also learned over the years that that’s just...not in the cards. Not for Buck, anyway.

Finally, he opens his mouth again. “I...didn’t know you were seeing anyone else besides Ana. Thought you two were, like, a serious thing.” Understatement of the year. How on earth was Eddie seeing someone that Buck didn’t know about? They practically lived out of each other’s pockets half the time.

Eddie huffs out a small, horrible laugh. “I’m not. Seeing anyone. In that sense, anyway. Though we do see a lot of each other. A disgusting amount, if I’m being honest.” The laugh he lets out here is not horrible. It’s almost...fond.

“O...kay.” Somewhere inside, Buck’s heart falters. “So, what’s the problem? Do they...not feel the same way?”

Another huff of a laugh. “Dunno. I never asked.” Eddie’s back to rubbing his temples again, almost hiding his face on purpose.

“Alright, well, that should probably be step one.” Buck can’t keep the hint of scolding out of his tone, but he can see that it makes Eddie smile. “I can help you, if you want?”

This makes Eddie smile even wider, but it turns sad in an instant. “I know you would. But you can’t.”

Buck takes a moment--or several--to consider himself. To weigh all his options and arrive at a logical and sensible conclusion.

Who is he kidding? Buck opens his mouth on impulse, praying to every deity he’s ever heard of that he’s not wrong and he’s not about to ruin everything.

“I can try.” Another small laugh from Eddie in response, a hopeless, resigned one. “Eddie.” When he gets no reaction, he tries again. He really needs eye contact for this, no matter how much he knows Eddie hates it during emotional conversations. “Eddie.”

Slowly, Eddie’s eyes meet his. Buck goes for broke.

“Step one. Ask.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, no discernible change in his features. Buck’s eyes plead with him. And then, it’s like Buck can watch the switch flip behind his eyes. When he catches up to what’s being said here.

Buck holds his breath for what feels like ages and feels his skin grow cold with shame because he was wrong, he was wrong, he was so so wrong--

“Are--” Eddie begins, strained. Buck’s heart stops. “Are we--” Buck’s sure his heart can’t actually stop twice, but it definitely does at this addition.

His eyes are glued to Eddie’s, though. Like magnets. Pulling in the only direction they can ever go. The way the universe wills them.

Eddie seems to come back to himself for a moment, flicking his eyes to the glass. Buck’s eyes tear themselves away to look at what’s caught his attention. The entire B shift and some of the A are still milling around outside.

“Are we really going to do this here?” is the question Eddie actually poses to him. But, when Buck’s eyes snap back to their target, he sees something that kickstarts his heart again, and he lets out the breath he’d been deliberately holding for the last 45 seconds, give or take. Eddie’s tiny, timid smile seals the deal.

“We could go to my place?” Buck offers. Tries desperately not to think about what could happen. What he wants to happen.

“I need to get home to Christopher.” Eddie’s standing, grabbing his duffel. Buck’s nodding, because yeah, that’s true. He scrubs his mind of the...thoughts that were just playing through it.

“And so do you,” is what’s tacked onto the end, just thrown out there, like it’s the most normal, logical thing in the world. Eddie’s face is still a little timid when Buck looks up, but his own face must give away his heart because Eddie’s smile after that is radiant. He hands Buck his own bag, also giving him a hand up off the bench.

Yeah, his legs are a little wobbly. Good best friend actions, Eddie. Thanks.

Though. Buck doesn’t know if that term still applies. Are they friends? Are they more now? But they haven’t talked about anything so, like, they’re not anything yet, right? But Eddie said he was in love with--

His thoughts halt when Eddie lands a small kiss to his lips, there and gone again in a nanosecond and wow, that had no right to be as earth-shattering as it was, it was just a peck, for Christ’s sake, and--

“Buck. Get your shit and lets go, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Yeah.” Smooth.

But Eddie’s smiling. For real this time. Buck will take that.

lbr, the show wouldn’t acknowledge Taylor during this conversation. It’d be wrapped up the next episode and she would storm out and never be heard from again. Definitely NOT how I’d want that to go, but. We all know it would. *honks clown nose*

#buddie #buddie fic #911 on fox #911 fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #MY FIRST BUDDIE FIC PLS BE KIND #brooke writes

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Note

hiiiiii could you please do a will poulter imagine where the reader is in a broadway show and will comes to watch and instantly falls for them (could it be gender neutral as well if you can?) and keeps coming back to the show until he finally gets the courage to ask them out, but the reader is the one who makes the first move? i’d literally love u forever

Of course! What a cute idea 😊

Sorry it took awhile, had to juggle school and some drama, but here it it finally lol

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often that Will got to go to a Broadway show.

After weeks and weeks of his best friend, Collar, going on and on about how amazing this play he recently discovered was, Will immediately jumped at the chance of seeing the show with him when he found out that they'd be in his hometown that week.

Will thought his ribs would be crushed from how tightly Collar hugged him. Will was lucky enough to get really good seats before they were sold out.

It was the first night that the show was in London, so they weren't surprised to see that the place was packed, but that definitely didn't lessen the excitement. "I'm so excited for this." Will expressed.

"Oh, you're gonna love it, mate." Collar replied.

Taking their seats, it was only a matter of minutes until the lights started to dim and a loud overhead voice explaining the show was about to begin and repeating how no photography or video was allowed and all that.

Will and Collar were pretty much beaming with excitement, the latter bouncing his leg up and down with anticipation.

The two friends were immediately entranced when the ensemble cast walked onstage and performed the first song, applauding along with the rest of the audience when it ended.

Main characters were quickly introduced, and Will was surprised at how much he was enjoying the show so far, but he should've known Collar had the best tastes.

A new character was introduced, and Will could not take his eyes off them. The voice that emitted from this person was almost otherworldly, he'd never thought someone could sing so well. Will could've easily said that they were beautiful as well. Maybe it was the way the spotlights shined on them, making their aura angelic in a way. They seemed to exude confidence, that in itself was so damn attractive to him.

Every time this person went onstage, Will naturally focused in on them, he didn't even realize until after the show. "I know that look," Collar smirked, "which one was it?"

Will blushed. "I don't know what you mean..."

"Mate, don't bullshit me." He laughed.

Will rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't lie to his best friend. "The one who sang that solo, before the intermission."

Collar's eyes lit up in clarity. "Oh, yeah! They were awesome. The cast usually meets fans after the show in the lobby, you should try to meet them!"

Will quickly shook his head. "No, no, no, that's okay."

"Nah, come on!" Collar grabbed Will's wrist, dragging him to the lobby with a ridiculous amount of force.

Just as Collar said, the whole main cast was lined up behind a red velvety rope, all smiling, signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. Will instantly spotted you, grinning widely while talking to a fan. You looked like the friendliest person on the planet. Obviously, Will didn't know if you were for sure, but he had a gut feeling.

You felt someone staring at you, well, hundreds of people have been staring at you every other night for the past two months now, but you were proved right when you caught the eye of a man across the room.

It took you a bit of recall, but you eventually recognized him as Will Poulter. You hadn't watched his recent stuff as you were so busy, but he was an actor you had respect and admiration for. He looked like he had taken an interest in you, which you never thought would be possible. You gave him a warm smile, and you could see his bashful gaze and blush.

"Dude, you gonna talk to them or?" Collar asked impatiently. "They just smiled at you, that's gotta be an invitation, man."

Will wanted to, so badly, but you looked busy enough as it was. "Not tonight, I'm pretty knackered if I'm being honest." Collar gave him an annoyed look, but he wasn't going to pressure him.

You saw Will leave the theatre from the corner of your eye, and you refrained from frowning. You really thought he'd come talk to you, but in a way you were thankful, you probably would've embarrassed yourself in some way. But still, you were a bit disappointed, but you still smiled when you met people who enjoyed the show.

Will pretty much slapped himself for not even trying to talk to you, so he did something rather impulsive; he bought another ticket to your show. "You haven't even met them, and you're already whipped!" Collar laughed loudly.

"Please, don't start." Will whined.

Seeing Will again at the show, in the orchestra seats, almost made you blush onstage. He was there again? Your gut told you he was there because of you, but your logic told you that you were being conceited. Maybe he just was so moved by the performances that he had to see the show again.

You felt his eyes trained on you the entire show.

After the show, you were in your dressing room, scrubbing off the caked on stage makeup that you had to wear every performance. Until your friend and co-worker barged in unannounced. "Knock, for the love of god, knock!" You snapped.

"I did!" Your friend replied, not very convincingly you might add. "Did you see that hot blonde eyeing you tonight?"

You furrowed your brows. "How'd you even see that?"

"I know when someone's eying MY friend!" They said, emphasizing the 'my'. "It's a superpower I have."

"Yeah, well, that guy was here yesterday. He must love the show a lot if he came back a second time in a row." You said while finishing taking off the makeup.

Your friend smirked. "Or maybe…he loved your performance?"

You rolled your eyes. "Stop, you'll get my hopes up."

"Well, I guess we'll see when you go out in the lobby."

You loved meeting people who enjoyed the show, especially your performances. Praise felt nice, but what felt even nicer was the fact you saw Will awkwardly making his way to the area were the cast was, shaking hands and congratulating your fellow performers.

Slowly but surely, he made his way to you with a grin. Damn, that grin could probably cure every illness in the universe, you thought. "Hello there, loved your performance!" He praised.

"Thanks! You were at the show last night too, weren't you? Or are my eyes just playing tricks on me?" You giggled.

Will scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, yeah, actually I was." He chuckled.

"Dang, you must really love the show!" You chuckled when he couldn't come up with a reply. "I'm Y/N." You stretched your hand out to shake his.

"Will." He smiled.

"Oh, I know actually! I know some of your work."

Will blinked in shock, but smiled nervously. "Oh, wow, awesome! I'd imagine doing this type of thing, traveling, how would you even find the time to relax and watch films?"

"Oh, trust me, we barely even have time to relax much less watch movies. But I remember seeing you in Son of Rambow, you were a pretty cute kid." You smiled.

Will chuckled bashfully. "That's very kind. I'd hope I'm still as cute as I was when I was little."

"You definitely are." You didn't exactly mean to sound all seductive like, but it just came out that way. You found yourself liking the way it made all of Will's blood rush to his cheeks.

"Oh, thank you." He stuttered, looking around nervously. "Well, it seems like loads of people want to meet you so, I'll get going."

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, willing yourself to tell him to stay, but all that came out was a strangled sigh. Damn it, you must've scared him off…

"They said that to you?!" Collar shouted, listening intently to Will about the encounter with you as soon as he got to his apartment. "They said you were cute. Mate, please, tell me you asked them out."

Will cringed, biting his lip and looking up to his friend in shame. "I got nervous…"

"That was your opening, man!"

"I know, I know. Just gonna have to have a go at it again…" He said, pulling out his phone with another sigh.

"Tell me your not."

"Too late." Will showed his phone screen to reveal a newly purchased ticket to the show…again.

"You're burning a hole in your wallet."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." But he hopes it'll be worth it. "Third times a charm..."

Another night, another show, and you felt yourself having a little bit of low spirits, until your friend pulled you by the wrist to the side stage. "What're you…?"

"Look who's here, again!" Your friend whisper yelled, pulling aside the stage curtain to reveal a tiny bit of the audience waiting for the show to start. "Look there!" They pointed.

"No way…"

Will was there in the audience again!

"He must really want that ass!" Your friend guffawed, making you lightly slap their arm.

You couldn't help but blush, it was so sweet. But you thought back to the night before, he was so nervous and finicky. You realized you had to make the first move, no flirting or else he'd startle like a baby deer.

Oh boy, your nature was not able to NOT flirt. You might've thrown a couple winks to Will onstage, maybe thrown a couple smirks when you were able to. Yeah, the no flirting thing wasn't really working…

But you thought maybe it made him a bit more comfortable walking up to you easier after the show. "Damn, you have an obsession with theatre, huh?" You teased.

Will chuckled. "Yeah, I must."

"So, why are you actually coming here? Three times in a row must be hurting your bank account."

Will stayed silent for a moment, just staring into your eyes with a blush slowly rising to his cheeks. "I, uh…" He paused, "I just really love the show." He instantly cringed internally. "I should go."

"No!" You shouted accidently, startling him slightly. "Sorry, uh, why don't you stay? Our night ends in half an hour. If you don't mind, I'd love to talk to you."

Will instantly felt relieved, in a way. He nodded excitingly, causing you to grin.

"Great! I'll meet you out the front doors, okay?"

Quickly going to your dressing room, your friend hugged you tightly from behind you. "Dude, finally! I never thought I'd see the day you'd make a first move."

"Wasn't easy. Why can't extroverts act like extroverts?" You chuckled, looking over yourself in the mirror.

"You're generalizing."

"I gotta stop doing that. But anyway, I'll be back soon, hopefully he won't run off."

"Good luck." They blew a kiss.

Thankfully, Will was still waiting outside the theatre, sitting on the steps, scrolling through his phone. "Hey!" You greeted. "Sorry if I took awhile."

Will smiled, standing up from the steps. "It's totally fine."

"So, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I have a hard time believing you came here three times in a row, wasting money, just because you enjoyed the show a lot."

Will's smile dropped, looking to the ground. "Uh…you're not wrong."

"Last night, you left so quickly. Why?"

Will let out a sigh. "I got…scared, I guess." Well, he admitted that, why not admit more? "You just seem so confident, I was intimidated. But I did want to talk to you more, just didn't have the guts to, I suppose."

Another smile graced your face happily. "Well, the show is still in town for a few days, then our tour is over. I'd love to go out for a coffee or tea sometime, if you're available."

Will's eyes lit up, his grin coming back and letting out a thankful chuckle. "Yes! Yeah, I'd love to!"

"Here's my number, call me and we'll work out the details."

"Wow…" He smiled.

"What?" You asked with a giggle.

"That was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you liked it, @poulterfilms , I hope it's what you had in mind🥺

#will poulter #will poulter x reader #will poulter imagine

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

And the Walls Kept Tumbling Down

Prompts: Trust and Breakdown

Word Count: 3,706

Characters: Pixal and Lloyd

Timeline: right before season 8

Trigger Warnings: Mental Breakdown/Panic Attack, Lack of Self-Worth

Summary: Pixal has been Samurai X for awhile, now- a role that allows her to be herself, to be happy. But it’s also... incredibly lonely. Luckily, she’s not the only one alone- Lloyd has been left in the city while his friends go after Master Wu, and his presence is comforting. But as they struggle with a mysterious biker gang, Pixal can’t help feeling the want to be part of something more.

Link to read on FanFiction.Net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13897921/1/And-the-Walls-Kept-Tumbling-Down

“Master Lloyd, maybe you should go get that checked at the hospital.”

“Pix, I’m fine, it’s just a scratch,” Lloyd mumbled through the gauze as he snapped it with his teeth, winding the last several inches around his forearm. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Why? You are our master now, aren’t you?”

Lloyd snorted, tentatively testing his arm as he moved it back and forth. “I’m no master. I can’t even keep our team together.”

Pixal stared at him, shocked. “We all agreed on this, Lloyd. It is the most efficient plan to find Master Wu.”

“Yeah, and whose plan was that?” Lloyd’s voice was suddenly sharp.

“I believe it was Zane’s, but-”

“Exactly! It was Zane’s plan, not mine. I did nothing. And now, they’re off searching for Master Wu, and I’m sitting here, doing nothing.”

An unfamiliar sensation squeezed at Pixal’s chest, one that felt hot and fierce and miserable all at the same time, before she had to remind herself that no, she didn’t have a body, didn’t have a chest to feel pain in, and that she was just speaking to Lloyd over the monitors.

At least, in the moment, she was.

“Zane trusted me to watch over this city,” she insisted, her voice unstable- which it shouldn’t be, she was a nindroid, not affected by such things- “He trusted us.”

Lloyd flinched visibly, looking away from the computer they were using to talk. “Pix, I didn’t mean- look, I’m sure Zane much would’ve rather had you come along with him, but instead you got stuck babysitting me.”

“Normally, I would object, but I think you’ve already proven your own point,” she commented, shooting a pointed glare at his bandaged arm.

Lloyd gritted his teeth, letting out a slow breath. “I get it, Pixal, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“A doctor’s visit couldn’t hurt, Lloyd.”

“Will you drop it already?”

She frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t grow cross with me, Master Lloyd. I am only trying to look out for you-”

Lloyd stood up sharply. “I get it, okay? I’m incompetant. You don’t need to keep calling me ‘master’ out of pity, I know I’ll never be able to live up to my unc- Master Wu.”

Pixal blinked at him, stunned. “Lloyd, I never-”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” And then he was reaching forward, slamming down the laptop’s lid, and Pixal’s world went dark.

He knew how much she hated that, when he turned her off or walked away without her consent, like she was some sort of object.

He hadn’t meant it- she had learned a lot about Lloyd in their past year alone together, and he often became impulsive when he was angry in order to cover up his sensitive, insecure side. It would probably only be a matter of hours before he came running back, apologizing repeatedly, and sobbing over what a horrible friend he was as Pixal patiently waited for him to calm down. But she had grown to like and respect Lloyd, and it still stung when he snapped at her, even though the logical part of her mind knew that it wasn’t really her that was the problem.

What bothered her even more so, though, was the things he said about himself. It had been abrupt, this time, but she hadn’t missed the times he had slipped it in more subtly into conversation. It made her angry, how he refused to appreciate himself.

And now, stuck in this stupid form, she couldn’t go after him.

Well. Technically, she could.

The Samurai X suit had been up and operational for a few months since her last major upgrade- the one that had finally given her her own, independent body, separate from just the mech itself.

But she was nervous to remove herself from the computer entirely. She was aware that she was so incredibly useful as a program, with instant access to all sorts of technology and data. She had become an asset to her team.

She liked feeling important, feeling like she was part of the group.

But being the samurai allowed her to physically be there. In these last few months, she felt like she had really grown to know and trust Lloyd- even if he didn’t know it was her beneath the samurai mask. She wanted to get to know the others fully, too- she was already fairly close to Zane, but she liked the rest of the team, too- Cole, Jay, Kai, and especially Nya, Pixal felt intrigued by. She had spent some time connecting similarities between them- there were a lot of differences, too, but she felt like they could be friends. A physical form would allow her to bond with them, like a human. She was well aware she wasn’t one, but she wanted to understand.

But she was afraid, too. Except for Zane, and maybe Lloyd, now, seeing the others again felt daunting. They had never been particularly close before she had been scrapped. What if they thought she was infringing on their team? The six of them had been close for so long. It would make sense if she wasn’t wanted there.

She just wasn’t ready, not yet. Communicating with Lloyd through the monitors would just have to do for now. It was difficult, though- it didn’t seem like he took her as seriously this way.

For now, though, they had bigger problems. Lloyd’s injury hadn’t been too severe, from what she could tell, and would heal quickly. But it had been a sizable wound, and could leave some pretty severe scarring, if he wasn’t careful with it- she knew he wouldn’t be, which was why she had to keep him in line- but the point was, these were no common thieves going around, dealing this kind of damage. This gang- whoever they were- were something bigger, more dangerous than their day-to-day threats. Pixal wasn’t sure if it was severe enough to start calling the others back- she didn’t want to interrupt their search for Master Wu. But she would certainly have to keep a closer eye on Lloyd from now on, to make sure he didn’t get in over his head.

She should probably start playing a more active role as Samurai X. Although the ninja had a tentative relationship with her mysterious persona, she wasn’t about to send Lloyd against this gang alone again.

She just hoped he would have her.

---

The next call came in much sooner than Pixal had anticipated. At the unappealing hour of four in the morning, Lloyd hauled himself out of bed and stumbled drearily out the door at Pixal’s report of a prison breach alarm coming from Kryptarium. With the rush, there was no time to talk to him, and the drive to the prison was awkward and silent.

When they arrived, it turned out the alarm had been triggered by accident. The good news was there were no criminals to stop, the bad news was that they had woken up at four am for no reason.

Not that Pixal particularly minded- sleep was inconsequential to a nindroid, but Lloyd was less than pleased.

“I mean, if you’re going to have an alarm system that immediately pages the city’s ninja team and makes them stop everything they’re doing to rush over there, it should at least be heavily guarded. How do you even accidentally set off an emergency alarm? I thought these guys were supposed to be professionals!”

Pixal stifled a laugh as he paused, taking a sip of the iced coffee he had picked up as they had headed back. He had told her, “If I’m already up and ready, I might as well spend some time in the city for a little while. Y’know, in case they trigger any other ‘alarms’ that I need to go rushing off to.”

“Perhaps they need a lesson from the ninja,” Pixal suggested.

“I’ll say,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how this city ever survived before we showed up.”

“Well, experience is the best teacher, and you guys have triggered enough traps and alarms to last a lifetime.”

“Wait, what?” Lloyd spluttered. “No, we haven’t! We’re highly trained ninja, we’re better than that.”

“Oh, really? I seem to remember quite a few in the Tournament of Elements, or the time with the technoblades, or when General Cryptor tracked you- shall I go on?”

“Shut up,” Lloyd snorted, trying to hide his grin. “You don’t know nothin’.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I was only with you for a short time before I was uploaded into Zane’s head, and after that, my view of your adventures was extremely limited. I can’t imagine how much more trouble you got into when I wasn’t there.”

“I hate you,” he said, attempting to scowl and failing miserably, the look on his face was too comedic for Pixal to bite back her laugh this time. It wasn’t long before Lloyd joined her, and soon, he was bent over, clutching his stomach, and he had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath. Pixal felt warm inside as she watched him take a long sip from his coffee. She enjoyed seeing him like this. He had been far too tense over the last few weeks, and she missed the more childlike, carefree side of him.

After a moment, though, the expression on his face fell solemn, and he turned to the tablet they were using to communicate to look her directly in the eyes. “Pix, I’m really sorry for yelling at you last night. I was being a brat.”

She paused carefully, both relieved and nervous that they were finally addressing this. “Lloyd, I know you were hurting. I am only trying to look out for you.”

He put his hands behind his head. “Yeah, I know, I need to work harder-”

“Lloyd,” she interrupted firmly. “That’s the other thing. I need you to stop saying things like that about yourself.”

He cocked his head at her. “Like what?”

Good grief, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. “Talking down on yourself. I called you ‘master’ because that’s what you are now. You’ve earned this title, Lloyd. Just like you’ve earned everything else in your life, and more. It was not my intention to say you would take your uncle’s place, but say that you can be just as great of a leader as he was.”

Lloyd suddenly found the cracks in the concrete to be very interesting. “See, people keep saying that, but- it’s just so hard. I feel like I always mess everything up. Something always goes wrong, or worse, someone gets hurt-”

“Lloyd, you’re one person. You can’t expect to be successful all the time. You may be a ninja, yes, but your job is very difficult and dangerous, something most people wouldn’t even dream of tackling. You’re part of a team for a reason, and I’m sorry they’re not here right now, but until they return, you’re going to have to give yourself a little credit.”

Lloyd’s breathing hitched, and he scrubbed at his suspiciously wet eyes. His next words were so quiet, Pixal could barely hear them. “I just miss them. Everyone… everyone always leaves, and I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

Pixal was struggling to breathe herself- even though she was a nindroid, didn’t need to breathe- the sensation was still there.

She could remember when she had been alone too. Those nights after Zane had… had died, had been some of the worst times of her life. The emptiness had only made it sting worse, but when Lloyd had reached out to her, she had refused him.

She had been scared, scared to let anyone else into her life in case she lost them too, but now she realized that he had been hurting just as much as she had. She knew his friends had gone off on their own like she had, leaving him just as alone as the rest of them. She had been the cause of that, she had only hurt him more when he was already going through so much.

When she spoke again, it wasn’t just for the situation at present.

“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at the screen, his watery green eyes staring into hers, then raised an arm, his fingers ghosting the screen, before falling back to his side. He looked away, swallowing.

“What is it?”

“I just… I wish I could hug you. I wish you were here. Like, actually.”

“I am much more useful in the computer, Lloyd.”

“Yeah, but you’re not… you’re not here. I don’t care about how useful you are.”

Pixal let out a trembling breath, but Lloyd hardly seemed to notice, already beginning to stand up. “Sorry about being such a downer. I better get back to the Bounty, I’m sure the police have something for me to do.”

“Lloyd?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just… they’ll be back soon. I know they aren’t like… other people. They’re going to come back. And besides, until then, I’ve got you, right?” He gave her a shy smile.

Pixal froze. This was it. He was extending- a metaphorical- hand to her. Offering her to be part of something that she had been wanting for a long time.

But it felt wrong. She wasn’t a ninja. She wasn’t one of his teammates. What if she was assuming wrong? What if he wasn’t really asking that?

“I’m not one of the ninja, Lloyd. I can’t help you the way they can.”

“No, you’re whoever you want to be, Pix. But you’re still my friend.”

Friend. Pixal felt a sudden urge to correct him, to tell him he was mistaken. “I’m not part of your team. I… I can’t be.”

“Trust me, Pix- in every sense that matters- you are one of us.”

---

“Pixal, I need my car! Now!”

The nindroid’s voice came out slightly crackly from the radio. “Your coordinates, Master Lloyd?”

“I’m somewhere around… well, you know how to find me.”

The cable he was gripping onto slowed to a stop, then quickly began to swing back down. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lloyd prayed that Pixal knew what she was doing, and let go.

Air whipped past him as he fell freely, the fall feeling both agonizingly slow and alarmingly quick at the same time, but before he had time to question what the hell he was doing, a blur of green darted out from a nearby alleyway, and Lloyd fell into his car.

He quickly pulled himself up and took over the controls. “Impeccable timing, Pix! You’re getting good at that.”

“I have to do something while you’re busy fighting crime, don’t I?”

“Speaking of which…” Lloyd cut off, gritting his teeth as he wove in between cars on the busy street, chasing after the biker. “Who is this person? Anything you can tell me about them?”

“They appear to be affiliated with the same criminal biker gang we have been having trouble with over the last few weeks. I am afraid I cannot tell you anything other than that. They have been keeping a very low profile.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’re good. I’ll keep you posted.” Gritting his teeth, he pushed on the gas and shot through the streets after the mysterious biker. They were a skilled driver, but Lloyd wasn’t lacking in that department either, and soon, he had caught up to the biker. The person’s eyes glowed an eerie red through their mask, their expression emotionless, and Lloyd forced his gaze away for a moment to examine the object in the back of his bike- presumably the stolen item. It was a red mask, with an ugly, beast-like face patterned over the top, complete with a mouth of crooked, yellowing teeth, and deep, glowering eyes. It looked like nothing more than a costume. Lloyd wondered what they could possibly want with it.

Putting on another burst of speed, he pulled in front of the biker, making them screech to a halt to avoid a collision. The two of them stared each other down, only a short stretch of road between them.

The criminal revved his engine, and suddenly, was racing towards Lloyd. Lloyd began to do the same, and just when he thought the biker was about to hit him head-on, mechanical arms extended from the bike, driving into the road, and sending the biker flying over his head. Lloyd slammed to a halt and jumped out of the car, running over to the bridge as the biker went over the edge. He yanked something near his chest, and all of a sudden, a big sheet was billowing out from his back, gray and black and red-

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat as the parachute unfolded fully, revealing the emblem of a face that Lloyd had never thought he would see again.

No, no, no. Lloyd stumbled back from the railing, his breath hitching in his chest as he tried desperately to draw it in. This doesn’t mean anything. Perhaps they just are a fan of Garmadon, it doesn’t mean he’s here-

But it wasn’t working. His body just wasn’t listening to him, his heart beating too fast, his breath trembling and shallow, and his head-

“Lloyd!” A voice came from seemingly out of nowhere, and in his panicked state, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd, it’s Pixal. What’s happened, why aren’t you responding?”

Oh. It was Pixal, on… on the radio. With trembling fingers, he reached down and switched on his mic. “...Pix?”

“Lloyd, don’t scare me like that, what’s wrong?”

“Pixal… Pixal, I don’t know…” Oh gosh, he was spiraling, spiraling hard, panic swamped his brain as images of his father flashed before his eyes, first running off with the golden weapons, then trying to kill him when the Overlord had taken over, then when he had submerged under the ocean, down, down, down with the Preeminent-

No! Lloyd’s eyes snapped open, scattering the images. He couldn’t be thinking about this now, not- not when-

Oh gosh. His father couldn’t be involved with this gang, he couldn’t. He was gone, gone for good. He missed him, so, so much, but nothing with his father was ever that simple. Something always went wrong, and Lloyd was just beginning to get over his last death, he couldn’t- couldn’t live through the pain again-

“Lloyd, Lloyd listen to me, just try to breathe-”

He could barely hear her. His legs had stopped working, and he sunk to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to remember to breathe. The last thing he needed was to pass out from lack of oxygen.

He buried his face between his knees, gulping through the sobs. Dammit, why was he like this, he hadn’t had an episode this bad since Morro-

And now he was thinking about that part of his life, one he had so desperately hoped to forget- it had been years, why was still not over that, he had gotten good at suppressing those feelings long ago, but when he got like this, he couldn’t control anything-

He hated when he got like this, it was so terrifying, he just wanted to go home, he just wanted Kai to be here, why was he always all alone-

Suddenly, firm, cool arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close. Lloyd gasped, his eyes flying open sharply.

A pair of glowing green eyes stared back at him, shadowed with fear. “Hey,” she whispered, her metallic jaw moving with the words, “I’m here now. You’re going to be okay.”

He had lost it, he was hallucinating, how was- how was she here-

“Pixal?!”

“Yeah,” her voice was quiet, rubbing her fingers across his palm. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“How?”

“I’m Samurai X, Lloyd.”

“Oh.” Vaguely, a part of his mind told him he should be more surprised by that piece of information, but he was just tired. His mind was already on overdrive, he couldn’t afford to take in anything else.

“Lloyd.” Pixal’s voice was scared, and he realized he was trembling in her grip. “Please, what has happened to you?”

“It’s- it’s…” Lloyd gasped for breath. “My dad, he- the biker, he was- he had-” and those words alone were too much. Everything was breaking, splintering apart right in front of his eyes, and he clutched onto Pixal like she was his lifeline- in a way, she was. She felt different from Kai’s warm, soft touch- harder and cooler- but sturdier and stronger, too. And right now, Lloyd could use a bit of strength.

But most of all, she was here.

“Why did you tell me?” He managed to get out. “Out of everyone, you told me first? Not Zane?”

Pixal was silent for a moment. “I know what it’s like. I mean, not exactly- I can’t feel what you are feeling right now. But… feeling emotions has been hard. Draining. You, out of all people, seem to know that. But you’re still so strong through everything. I just… you helped me to see how to heal. How to get better.” She paused, looking down at her hands. “But I guess it doesn’t always work out that way. I figured it was about time I helped you back.”

He leaned his head into her lap, examining her long, silver fingers, brushing them gently. “I like you like this. You’re pretty.”

He wasn’t looking at her face, but he could almost feel her smile. “Thank you. I worked hard to make this. I wanted to make sure… that I was better, this time. I still have some modifications to make, but…”

Lloyd winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I made you show me before you were ready.”

“Lloyd,” she said firmly. “This was my choice. Not yours.” She took one hand and turned his chin so their gazes met, green on green. “I trust you. I always have.”

Lloyd felt his lip tremble. “I-”

Pixal stopped him. “It’s okay, Lloyd. You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Lloyd curled into her side and wept.

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #ninjago lloyd #ninjago pixal #hope you guys enjoyed!#this was really fun to write #i finished it in like three days wow look at me actually being productive for once #but yeah pixal is underrated and i needed to be sure to add her at least once into this found family event #because she's just as much a part of the team as any of them ❤

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seancekitsch · 3 years

Text

Powerplay: a Marko x Reader fic

part 3 of 3, previous part here

Warnings: harassment, vamp typical shit, cursing, death/killing, smut mentions, reference to the book

Marko was a good boyfriend, it turned out, except for when he wasn’t. You liked the sweet little kisses, the teasing way he snaps his jaw at you when you catch him staring, the way he holds you while you’re falling asleep even though he doesn’t have to.You like that he listens, more than your friends do. You rang another friend the other day, and were left waiting with the endless ringing again. You want to be upset, but they weren't as close as you were hoping they’d be. Your close friends were back in New York, three thousand miles and a year of working behind you. And they were Marko and his brothers now.

You love the way he keeps you safe, your protector being probably the deadliest thing you could encounter. You love the way he laughs, always joking and jovial. You always thought his smile hid a joke like some mystery, but now you're in on it too, and it's the funniest thing. There is no secret joke, just Marko seeing the world with eyes full of humor. He sees the little things, and now he shows them to you. You love the way you can speak without speaking. Silence followed by heavy laughter, kisses, and understanding.

You even love that week you were on your period and every night he ate you out until you screamed yourself hoarse.

“Marko,” you’d say, “lets ride.”

And he would obey, letting you hop on the back of his bike, always after work, always too fast. You'd like to imagine him crashing as the wind whips your hair, stings your face. What that would be like, huh. It's what you assume he feels like when he flies, free and wild in the night. He caters to your every whim, makes you feel the happiest, as long as the sun has set.

He was less a good boyfriend when he was hungry, brooding and refusing to get close to you. He would be irritable, pick fights, silent treatment. He would purposely leave you in silence, but he wouldn't ask for a taste, despite your offering. He respected you enough not to try that. Other times, he would make sure that you could hear every thought in his head. His thoughts sounded like shouts, always telling you to get the fuck away, always reminding you how vulnerable you were, how easy to kill you’d be. It's almost maddening. You never knew which nights he would be the silent ones, or which ones would be the loud ones.

“Marko,” you’d say, “This is just temporary.”

You don't even have to think the words for him to know what you mean. Or those moments during the day when it's highlighted just how different he was, would always be. He would always be twenty and handsome and having fun, with a guaranteed group of friends. With a family he belonged with. You would always age, you would have to find something else to do eventually, and you would probably have to leave Santa Carla, because he wouldn't. You could always bore him, with Marko one day realizing you can't keep up anymore. You would always be weaker, and no matter how often Marko puts you first, he always holds the power. You’re only the decision maker because he lets you be. He could always take that power back. Find someone new when you get old and he stays the same age. He will always be this way, and you will always change.

It's those nights you think of pulling away from him, and you hope he never hears those thoughts. You love him, but he’ll always say it's not temporary. It's not true.

You love Marko today.

The jingling of the bell snaps you from your thoughts, head rising only to be face to face with one of the surf nazis. Huh, guess the boys didn’t clear all of them out. This one was tall, a skinhead with an upturned pug-like nose, wearing a lot of denim with eyes alight with mayhem in his agenda. Oh, please don’t fucking break anything.

“Hey Baby,” he sneers. God, his voice was even worse than his looks and his smell.

“Not your baby,” you deadpan, wishing desperately for him and his friends to leave without stealing or breaking anything forcing a sickeningly sweet customer service tone, “But what can I help with?”

Maybe good customer service will get them in-and-out quicker.

“That hot little body of yours could help me out,” his tone is outright mocking. God, is this how dudes like these think they can pull? You can’t even hide your grimace as you flinch at the words. If there was anyone else, just one other person working tonight, this wouldn’t be happening. You know this. Working nights alone practically invited this brand of harassment.

fuckfuckfuck. It’s way too early for Marko to be sniffing around, and if you can get them to leave the next four hours of your shift will be miserable. The man laughs, and it makes your blood run cold. He leans over the counter, past the little curtain of incense haze; breaching your only barrier of safety.

“I bet it could. Couldn’t it, baby?”

His large arms press against the glass of the counter and your eyes immediately flicker from them to the back room, where your knife is. He straightens up.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You frown, meeting his eyes now.

“Do you plan on buying anything we sell?” The Bauhaus record you have playing over the speaker skips, and you almost jump. It's just enough to break the tension, the rising bile in your throat clearing.

“I come in here for you, girlie,” and he affirms what you already know. Now that half of the surf nazis were gone, they were struggling to maintain their turf on the boardwalk. So harassment and torture at their hands were on the rise. Many people over the past few weeks had been dodging them in the stores around here, and now apparently they had caught wise to that. Done with it, you take a step back, leaning yourself against the back shelf to retreat further into the curtain of nag champa.

“You can fuck off,” you offer, gaining confidence as you realize the bong behind your head was more than affordable, and if you broke it over his head, you could cover it.

He opens his mouth to respond, but-

The bell on the door jingles again. A familiar smile fades into a scowl. Marko looks like one of those greek heroes tonight, maybe if only because his presence saves you from the gross comments (or anything worse) of the shaved head across the counter. He immediately distracts the surfer from you.

“Why don’t you get outta here, buddy? Me and the lady were just discussing me trying her out later,” the man spits, and you almost gag at the mental image of that.

Marko laughs, that high pitched full body laugh you love so much.

“That’s funny, buddy,” He throws the man’s nickname back at him, “Cause that’s my old lady right there.”

You loved and hated when he called you that. Technically, you are a year older than the year he turned. The first time you all realized that, Paul gave himself a stomach ache laughing over the ‘older woman’ Marko brought home. Tonight though, the nickname brings the biggest smile to your lips.

“Damn right I am,” you chime in, “and you couldn’t take the hint.”

Marko seals the deal by striding over to where you are and pulling you into a kiss over the counter. It doesn't take much more for the surf nazi to leave, the jingling of the door opening announcing his departure.

“I’m gonna make sure we kill the rest of them before the week is out.”

He waits the three hours it takes for you to be able to lock up behind the counter with you, loosely holding your hips and following you around, only moving away from you to pick out new records when one ends.

Come over tonight, Marko thinks, and you know it isn't a suggestion. You kiss him hard on the mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to press against you. His arms automatically find themselves around your waist, squeezing you as he eagerly returns the kiss. This wouldn’t be your first time at their dilapidated hotel, with sprawling caves and chandeliers and beautiful spray painted murals on the walls. The first time you were there, he brought you there while the others were hunting. He fucked you on any surface not covered with knick knacks they'd collected or takeout containers, leaving you to sheepishly blush while he proudly talked to the others when they returned, deep red hickies and a bite mark on your collarbone you couldn't hide. The next time, the boys and Star and Laddie welcomed you in with booze and a feast and a fun night where you had to crawl out of the cave at dawn looking like a mess. Either way, he waits for you to agree before he leads you to his motorcycle.

“Star, Why don't you just become one of us already?” Paul whined, holding his half eaten eggroll like a cigar, “You're already living with us, Mama. We just want to be friends forever.”

She scrunches her nose, smoothing the long hair of Laddie’s head in her lap. The boy was tired, their unofficial little brother or not, he was still an eight year old.

“Or maybe,” David starts, dropping down from the rim of the check in counter of the hotel, “Star can just have some fun with them and we don’t even have to do what Max wants.”

The boys all laugh, Dwayne’s shoulders turning inward, while Paul smacks Marko in the chest behind you. Whoever Max was, he was someone that could give the boys orders; something you didnt think possible besides their own little group hierarchy. You'd figured out pretty quickly that David was the leader, Marko was his right hand, Dwayne was the left hand; with Marko enforcing, playful and impulsive, and Dwayne being the level head, logical and the one who often kept the boys from fighting and made them all remember why they loved each other so much. Paul was the baby. Both literally and figuratively. He was the messiest, the most likely to slip up;. He was also the one turned last. So when Star decides to be one of them, she’ll be the new baby. Then Laddie.

“No,” Star affirms, “No, I can’t do that to Michael.”

“Michael,” David tests the name on his lips, tongue darting out to lick them after he says it. The curly haired brunette on the boardwalk had a name. Then his eyes flick to you. There's a sharpness to them that feels so different from Marko’s. David is trying to stare through you, not to look inside of your head, to look past it, to see any weakness. A challenge.

“Who’s Max?” you speak up from your spot on Marko’s lap. You can feel him tense under you, but David smiles.

“You don't know about Max? Marko, you didn’t tell her about Max?”

Marko’s hand wraps around your wrist as David continues.

“Max knows all about you, y/n. There’s a reason you're here.”

Here as in, still alive in a vampire den, or here tonight specifically?

Mind thing? You think, and Marko leans his head down against your shoulder as he nods.

“So he knows Marko and I are X-men? Is he Professor X?”

You hear Dwayne and Paul chuckle from the other side of the circle, and Dwayne mutters, “Yeah something like that,” as he swats his hand at Paul’s mesh-covered chest.

“He sired us,” David clarifies.

“You feel it right?” changing the subject, “You feel like you need to be near Marko?”

Marko squeezes your wrist in encouragement, and you nod.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You know what he means. It's the way you feel Marko before you see him, the way you can never sneak up on him.

You nod again.

“That’s what Max wanted to know. Marko, do you wanna tell her, or should I?”

What does he mean? You think and the man below you perks up.

Come with me. His palms grip your hips and gently push you to stand, and he follows suit before taking the lead.

He leads you towards the mouth of the cave, where you enter and away from any listening ears.

“So you know how David is dating Star?” he asks, voice low and close to you in the shadows.

“If that’s what they’re doing,” you joke, and he laughs along with you.

“Well, he thought they had what we have, and that's why she’s with us.” He reaches for your hands to hold them, dropping any playfulness from before.

“I’m supposed to turn you, Max thinks. He’s a lot older than us, and he says some vampires have mates or something similar to that. Others they have some deep mental connection with. The guys… we can hear each other sometimes if we try hard, because we’re a pack. I don't have to try with you and that's why Max thinks it's different.”

Turn you? Like, capital T- Turn you? Into one of them? If he turned you, you’d never see the sun again; never feel its warmth. You’d have to drink blood, and human blood at that. You’d become a killer, and you’d have to keep killing. While you aren��t innocent, killing kind of seems like it would be a stretch for you. Some of their victims had to be innocent, but would your hunger corrupt your morals one day?

It's like he can see the wheels turning in your head, ability to hear your thoughts or not.

“Y/n, you don't have to. Fuck, this was dumb to bring up. David thought you were ready, but if you don't want to I won't make you…” He trails off, visibly a little more deflated.

But if you did, you would be on the same level as Marko. All of the insecurities you have about your relationship would just… stop existing. Your relationship’s expiration date would disappear, your fears about having to leave him or him leaving you would disappear. You'd have people and a place to belong and lover and guaranteed group of friends to be a new family.

“How does it work, Marko?” your voice surprises him, and in honesty, he brought you to the mouth of the cave to give you an out. If you wanted to leave here, leave him specifically, he was going to let you.

“You gotta drink, uh, vampire blood.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You shrug.

“Are you sure? There's no take backs for this,” Marko’s voice is stern, unlike you ever heard it before.

Deadly sure, Marko.

He smiles, slowly like the moon rising in the night before it crescendos into the wide toothy grin you're so used to seeing.

Marko leads you back into the den of the cave where the others are hanging out.

Dwayne is the first to approach the two of you.

“Everything okay?”

You nod thankfully, offering him a smile.

Paul swoops in next.

“You better be tellin’ me you're joining the fam, chica!”

He tries to drape his arm around your shoulder, but Marko pushes him away playfully, both of the boys smiling.

“Let’s get this girl a drink!” Marko shouts, and the guys start up hollering and laughing.

Marko leads you back to where you had originally been sitting, his designated folding chair. He gestures to you to sit down, while he looks to David for something. Over his shoulder, you can see Star frowning as she watches on.

“Glad you got to talk it out,” David remarks as he hands a bottle of wine to Marko. Maybe you’ll be able to get used to his mannerisms in half a century. Marko hands off the bottle of wine to you, and your hands dip with the weight of it.

The wine bottle is bejeweled, another do it yourself project that the guys seem to love so much. It's heavy in your hands, dark and unseeing down the neck of it, but full. Marko crouches down between your legs, palms flat against your thighs as everyone waits with bated breath. You uncork the bottle, noticing the dark red staining on the cork, and knowing exactly what’s in it now. Two shaky hands bring the bottle to your lips, tilting your head back as you let the contents flow into your mouth, filling it. The ‘wine’ is thick, warm and salty but feels like it's already intoxicating you from just being in your mouth.

“That’s all Marko’s blood, you know,” David remarks, and you swallow deeply. All Marko. He drained his blood for you, weakened himself for you. Your eyes flicker to him, and he smiles up at you from his spot between your legs.

You smile back at him, widely, teeth stained with blood.

#my work #marko lost boys x reader #marko lost boys #marko x reader

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land-under-wave · 3 years

Text

Since I posted Pyrography (which is the fleshed-out version of this), I’ve gotten a couple of requests for more. While I don’t have a continuation in mind (it, uh, doesn’t exactly have much of a plot to continue), it did go through a lot of drafts, so I’ve gone through those drafts and pulled out some of the deleted bits.

Red doesn’t really have any ambition. He’s the type who would be content to wander Kanto, making friends and trying new things, and that’s probably how his Pokemon journey would’ve gone if it weren’t for having Green as his childhood friend. On the plus side, that means he’s easily content, but sometimes he envies the surety of always knowing there’s a next step instead of being aimless.

In actuality (though this would get him yelled at even more), it was more satisfying to work out why Green was so angry than it was to actually win the championship. It’s like solving a mystery in a book, there’s always enough clues for it to be possible, even if it’s hard. Green’s got an internal logic to him. It’s all part and parcel of the messy package that is Green Oak.

Green is brash and a little impulsive. He charges into things and knocks them over with sheer force of will. He’s not delicate and has almost no delicacy.

He has all these little nuances, complications that aren’t contradictions, and Red thinks that’s the kind of complicated he likes.

He’d been on the verge of abandoning it all to hide somewhere until things calmed down when he’d gotten a call on his PokeGear and the first thing he’d heard of Green in months was an outraged voice shouting, “Don’t you dare!” And his breath caught in his throat while his mouth started saying something snippy, they started arguing right away, but by the end of the conversation, he’d decided to stay. Because Green wouldn’t run from this kind of thing and wasn’t that part of why he was Red’s best friend in the end?

In hindsight, Red thinks it makes sense that Green wouldn’t understand something like that. Green’s always confronted things head on.

As trainers, Green and Red aren’t so different. Both of them care about being good to their Pokemon and bringing out the best in them. But Red’s world of concern ends there. Green, he can’t be content with that. He cares fiercely about things like what people think of him and having his effort acknowledged, and even at his flashiest, he was always scared. All that bravado was at least one part that terror.

It boils down to this: Green doesn’t trust himself, and he needs other people to tell him that he’s done right. So he takes compliments about his battle prowess pretty easily but gets embarrassed if people praise the way he runs his gym. He bristles at any insult unless it’s a senior questioning his adequacy. He might act like a rich kid, but he also works harder than anyone else Red’s ever seen.

Red doesn’t like complicated things, but he makes an exception for Green.

#Fic Notes #OriginalShipping #NamelessShipping #Green Oak #Trainer Red #Fic: Pyrography

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itsmoonphobic · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

#mcyt #minecraft youtubers #minecraft #tommyinnit #dreamsmp #wilbursoot #philza #mcytblr #sbi #technoblade #dream #dreamwastaken #ranboo #tubbo #moon is back with all of his awesomeness losers #long post

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mysticpetals · 4 years

Text

Farewell, sunshine

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jake × f!mc (Syianne)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 4.9k (oof)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: All Jake ever wanted was to find his sister and protect the person who had helped him more than anyone. Only, he slowly began to realise that bringing Syianne into this had caused more harm than good.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood, physical attack, violence, hospitals, medical coma, panic attack.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: Anonymous asked: 5. “Wake up! Please wake up.” MC and Jake finally get to meet for the first time, but everything is heavily dipped in angst. 😂 Also I adore your writing and keep up the good work!

Anonymous asked: Can you give us the most angsty jealous filled over protective short with Jake x MC i want all the ANGST to be seeping out of my screen

@mnrangera asked: Here's a nice angsty scenario for you: MC is in Duskwood continuing their investigation but is caught out in town after dark. They are on the phone with Jake when they are attacked by the Man Without a Face like Jessie was.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: I know this has been LOOOOONG overdue and I apologise for the wait. Thank you to all my followers for being patient, especially those who sent the requests in. I hope the long wait is worth it and you enjoy it. Also, please read the warnings before proceeding, I don't want any of you to be triggered by something I wrote. There may be inaccuracies in how I progressed medical conditions and general working of the hospitals so I apologise for that. Please do not repost or translate this fic anywhere else!! I'm literally begging you, please don't ruin my hard work like this. I would love if I could get some sort of feedback, whether it be reblogs or comments or just anon asks. I've tried to improve my writing and I hope it shows a little in this. This is my Christmas and New Year present all wrapped in one! I hope you all have a great 2021 <3

It was a cold, winter evening with the sky painted in a plethora of warm colors and Jake felt like finally things were going his way.

He, along with Syianne, had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks to find out what happened to Hannah. They had faced a lot of challenges along the way, with cryptic diary entries and threats directed towards them and their loved ones, but still, they'd prevailed and spent every ounce of free time, getting more information about Hannah's perpetrator.

They finally had the facts about what happened the day she was kidnapped and only the identity of the criminal was hidden. Syianne had suggested that she should go to Duskwood to try and find the last puzzle piece, to which Jake had been a little apprehensive. She argued that the rest of the group had already been through enough, with getting stalked and receiving threats and insisted that she should be the one to carry out her search in secret.

She never once asked for him to come along because she knew how dangerous it would be for him and she didn't want him to get caught. Jake was instantly warmed by the thought that someone cared so much about him, to think of his well being first.

So that night, as she called him to update him on her findings and plan after she went to Duskwood, he found himself speaking his thoughts impulsively.

"What if I came too?"

There was silence on the other end and Jake thought he might have overstepped or made it weird but she answered before he could stammer an apology.

"I'd like that. But only if you're comfortable and safe."

She told him to ruminate on it for a while and bid him goodnight. Jake thought about whether it was a logical thing to do. If Syianne planned to go undercover, he couldn't very well let her go into the lion's den alone. So he made up his mind and texted Syianne to let her know.

Jake [10:46 pm]

I'll come to Duskwood too.

Is it okay if we don't meet straight away?

I...I don't think I'm ready yet.

Syianne [10:47 pm]

I was lowkey hoping you'd say that ahaha

And of course! Take as much time as you need :)

That night, he slept with a smile on his face, excitement churning in his stomach.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Syianne was looking forward to her trip to Duskwood.

She knew it was a potentially dangerous situation and she was only going there to investigate but knowing that Jake might be there too, sent a spark of thrill through her body. They had been speaking non-stop for the past few weeks and she really liked talking to him. His answers to questions about him or his life were adorably confusing and Syianne realized that she really wanted to get to know him, be his friend or possibly something more, if their flirty banter was anything to go by.

Her bag contained all the essentials she could need, along with a sketchbook and pencils to use in case of boredom. She couldn't leave Matrix with any of her friends as they were either busy or allergic to cats so her only option was to take her along.

She had never booked a flight so fast. Knowing she would have to take a car from the airport to the rest of the way to Duskwood did nothing to damper her excitement. She couldn't wait to meet everyone once they found Hannah, some more so than the others.

The trip was nothing eventful, just a lot of travelling and it made Syianne a little tired but the idea of meeting her friends and finally putting a stop to all this madness, made her keep going. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her but she was looking forward to possibly seeing Jake as well. She knew he might not be comfortable enough to meet her yet and she completely respected that, but the thought still lingered.

She checked in to the only hotel Duskwood had, not meeting the receptionist's - Lilly's - eyes and was eternally grateful that she had only leaked her number and not her photo in that video. It would have been much more difficult to move about Duskwood, if that were the case.

The room they had was pretty basic, but not too bad for a few nights. Matrix prowled around the room, getting herself comfortable in the new environment while Syianne slowly unpacked the few clothes and necessities she brought.

In the corner of her mind, there was the thought that Jake might be staying at this hotel too and that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But she was a woman of her word and would wait until Jake was ready and would not try to look for him.

She had a mission here and she wanted to be damn sure that that's what she would be focusing on and save Hannah.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake was supposed to be in Duskwood about two nights ago.

He had encountered some issues with removing his tracks from the internet, as well as trying to find a safe way to drive to Duskwood without exposing himself. Working as a hacker did have some benefits and finally he managed to find a guy who made him three fake number plates that he would interchange every once in a while, so his whereabouts couldn't be traced.

He had let Syianne know of the unexpected delay but to his surprise, she was enjoying herself in Duskwood. She had told him that Jessy gave her a virtual tour of the town once and she was excited to explore all those places in person. She talked to him at night, describing the beauty of the small town and Jake felt himself growing wistful, wondering what they could do together if he had been there. But then again, hadn't he said that he wouldn't show himself right now? He was cautious - just as he had been all his life - but something about Syianne just made him want to let his guard down, to just be selfish for once.

He had no time to think further on it because finally, all the preparations and precautionary measures were done and he could drive to Duskwood. He couldn't leave Glitch at home because he had attachment issues and couldn't go without Jake for a long period of time. So he ushered him into his carrier and told him he could claw all the wood he wanted when they reached their destination and Glitch meowed in agreement. He had always been a smart cat, after all.

Changing the number plates every hour was exhausting, especially when he didn't do much manual work but he endured it, if it meant he was one step closer to finding his sister.

When he finally reached Duskwood, he was in awe of how normal it looked, how silent; how someone who didn't know that a girl had been kidnapped would think of this place as the perfect getaway. But he knew better, didn't he? This town held dark secrets, secrets that people weren't willing to acknowledge and he was going to expose them for what they were, no matter what it took.

Signing into the Duskwood hotel was as awkward as he imagined it to be, his half sister having no idea who he was and looking at his dark, baggy clothes suspiciously. He wasn't blaming her, he would have probably done the same if a strange man came out of nowhere to stay in Duskwood of all places. Lilly gave him a tight smile as he picked up his bag and key and made way to his room.

Syianne had texted him earlier that day that she would be checking out the lake in the evening, where Jessy was attacked. Jake was against it from the start but he should have known how stubborn she could be and eventually, he had to agree but only on the condition that she stays on video call with him the whole time. Syianne was evidently bewildered by his request, judging by the way she kept writing and erasing her reply but after a while, she managed to ask if he would be comfortable with that. Jake's heart warmed at her considerate words, never really having anyone who would care about his emotions, he was always surprised when Syianne said something like that. He replied that he would just turn off his camera or point it at the lamp or something but he had to be sure about her safety.

And that's why, he was sitting with his phone in front of him in the evening, camera turned off as he watched her fondly, pointing out the strange birds she saw.

"Ah, I wish you were here! The lake is so pretty this time and the light from sunset is reflecting off the water and it makes an amazing view," she said, voice breathy with the exertion of walking for a while and a tone of awe towards the scene in front of her.

"That's sufficient sightseeing, don't you think?" Her voice suddenly took a serious note and Jake straightened up in his chair. He was afraid but couldn't say anything. He had already agreed to let her go with a condition and he feared if he asked her to not investigate, she would probably end the call and keep looking for clues by herself. At least on the phone, he could look at her surroundings and made sure no one sneaked up on her.

"If you say so," he said half-heartedly, glancing at the surroundings behind her as she narrowed her eyes at his dismissive tone.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Syianne looking around the lake and Jake looking over her shoulder virtually. She had scouted the edge and went a little deeper into the forest, looking for a car, a boat, a mask - anything, really - but the search had proved to be futile so far. Everything was as peaceful as ever, no signs of any disturbance and it made Jake a little antsy. Nothing was ever this perfect.

"Well, since we can't find anything here, I think you should come back. It's getting late," Jake said, looking at the already darkened sky. It was an ominous red color and Jake was getting more and more worried as people left the lakeside.

Syianne frowned but didn't argue and that made him sigh in relief.

"Yeah, you're right. No use trying to find something that isn't there," she said and started walking again.

"Wait, you walked here? Didn't you bring your car?" Jake asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, I wanted to enjoy Duskwood and being in a car wouldn't have helped," she smiled at the camera and Jake let out an almost inaudible sigh. Why couldn't she care about her safety a little more? She was going to give him grey hair before he reached his thirties, that was for sure.

As he began to reply to her, he caught movement from the left side of the screen and instantly grabbed his phone, expanding the background.

There was a silhouette of a hand.

"Syianne, run!" He shouted, as the figure's arm came into view and she looked back in surprise before starting to sprint, the camera shaking from her movements.

Jake scrambled to get his car keys, not bothering with what he was wearing and ran towards the hotel parking, getting into his car and connecting the GPS to his phone, all the while listening to Syianne's panting breaths as she ran away from the man without a face.

Getting her location was no problem for him and he just hoped he would arrive there on time.

"Jake, I'm scared. I'm hiding behind a big building and I think he went on ahead," she whispered, voice shaky and trembling and Jake's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at his phone to watch her looking around herself in a panic.

Five more minutes and he would reach her location. Jake had never been more thankful that Duskwood was a small town and the hotel wasn't so far away from the lake.

"I'm coming, Syianne. Just a little while more and we'll go back together."

"Okay, I think I'm safe for now," she said. There was a sound of slow careful footsteps as Syianne came out from behind the building.

The abrupt sound of a gasp almost made him lose control of the steering wheel and he increased his speed as he heard what sounded like a scuffle. Syianne had probably dropped her phone because it only showed the dark sky and sounds of her struggling against her attacker.

"No! Let–"

Jake let out a harsh breath, jaw tightening as he heard Syianne's scream. He drove straight for a bit and turned the next corner and saw the man trying once again to restrain her. His eyes saw red and he honked and honked like it was nobody's business, speeding towards them.

The man without a face seemed to have realised that someone was coming to help as he pushed Syianne roughly into the wall and ran away towards the forest. As much as Jake wanted to go after him, Syianne was his first priority and he quickly got out of the car, dashing towards her crumpled form, lying on the ground.

He fumbled with his phone, calling the local police and asking for an ambulance, his body shaking all the while, as he knelt down next to Syianne.

He felt tears welling in her eyes as he looked at her battered form and realised that she was bleeding.

"Syianne?" He spoke in a scared voice.

"Syianne!" He said more forcefully, repeatedly patting her face in hope she'll look at him but her eyes were still glassy and unfocused as if she couldn't comprehend anything.

"I'm...so sorry. I…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to breathe and Jake cried, seeing her in so much pain, when he couldn't do anything except wait for the ambulance to arrive.

After a moment, Syianne's eyes fluttered closed and Jake's panic rose to new heights.

"No, no, no! Wake up! Please wake up!" He shouted and begged but she didn't respond to his calls.

His hand was soaked in her blood from where he was applying pressure on the wound at her side. The blood hadn't stopped flowing and Jake was worried that she was losing too much, too soon.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He muttered to himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins, with only one thought in his head – to save her.

He heard sirens in the distance and was relieved to know that help was coming. He pushed up the fallen hood of his jacket up on his head and looked at Syianne for any signs of consciousness. Her breaths were shallow and eyes still closed.

Soon enough, paramedics rushed to the scene and immediately started tending to Syianne's wounds. Jake felt as if he was just a spectator, not being able to do anything but watch. Someone came up to him and started asking him questions, about how he found her, who he was to her and if he knew anything about the attack. He answered all the questions as carefully as he could, giving a fake name, because he still wasn't sure if the police department was in league with the kidnapper or not.

As soon as he was done with the questioning, a paramedic approached him, letting him know that they were taking Syianne to the hospital and he would have to come there for a bit of paperwork. Jake hesitated and said he'd drive there in his own car and the paramedic nodded in response and left.

He got in his car and put his head in his hands, shaking at the unfortunate turn of events. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Syianne was just going to check out the lake and then surprise her friends the next day by telling them she'd be here for a few days and enjoy Duskwood together.

Jake was even thinking of meeting her in person and telling her that she had changed his life for the better. But his cowardice, his meticulous nature to not let anyone know who he was or where he was might have cost Syianne her life tonight. Even thinking about it had tears pooling in his eyes and he took a deep breath to bite back the sobs that were threatening to break once again.

He felt guilty, so so guilty and couldn't bring himself to start the car. He was pretty sure that if – no when – Syianne woke up, she would want nothing to do with the man who put her life in danger. With that thought rooted in his mind, he opened his phone and with trembling hands, sent Jessy a text about Syianne's accident. He received a reply almost immediately.

Jessy [8:46 pm]

What?

How did she come here?

You know what? If she's not okay, I'm going to hunt you down and make you pay.

Jake had no trouble believing she was telling the truth. All he wanted to do was help and now everything was falling apart. Taking a deep but shaky breath, he started the car but instead of going to the hospital, he turned towards the hotel.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jessy had no trouble believing that the hacker was telling the truth. His texts were frantic and he practically begged her to go to the hospital to see Syianne. She had no idea how she got here, but hearing that she got attacked, just like she was, was enough to make her worry and drive to the hospital, after letting Cleo know. She figured that the rest of them deserved to know too.

She rushed to the front desk, breathless and worried, and one of the nurses told Jessy that the doctors were with Syianne and she'd have to wait until they were done to know how she was.

After some time of relentless pacing, Cleo arrived and Jessy filled her in on everything that the hacker told her, which wasn't much, but it gave them a good idea of what had happened. Cleo said that she hadn't told anyone else yet and that they should do so as soon as the doctors had an update on Syianne's condition.

About an hour later, a nurse came upto Jessy and Cleo, asking if they knew Syianne and upon their confirmation, led them to the room she was kept in. They weren't allowed to enter yet as the doctors were still in the room, but Jessy gasped when she saw Syianne's scratched up face, with bandages covering her head.

"Oh my gosh." Cleo breathed and Jessy felt a rush of sorrow as she averted her eyes.

The doctors after completing their examination, told them that Syianne was stabbed in the side but luckily it didn't puncture anything important and they closed up the wound to allow it to heal. What was more concerning, was the fact that she was hit on the back of her head.

"She most likely suffered from a concussion, in which case, it is of the utmost importance that the patient doesn't fall asleep," the doctor said and Jessy and Cleo looked at each other uneasily.

"But Syianne fell asleep…" Jessy began and the doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. She was unconscious when she was brought here. The superficial wounds are taken care of, we just don't know when she'll wake up."

Both of them were too stunned to say anything and a call for the doctor from one of the nurses broke them out of their stupor.

"So, she's in a coma?" Cleo asked.

The doctor hesitated before answering.

"Essentially, yes. But we can't know for sure without further observation. If the injury isn't severe she'll wake up soon, we just have to monitor her constantly and look for any changes." He then walked off when his pager went off, most likely to see another patient.

"Don't worry, Jessy. She'll wake up soon," Cleo said, placing a hand on her shoulder, as they looked into Syianne's room, seeing her sleeping peacefully, as if nothing was wrong and she was just taking a nap.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

As soon as she got home from the hospital, Jessy sent out a row of furious texts to the hacker, clouded by her anger and hopelessness. In her head, it was all his fault that Syianne was twittering between life and death. He was the one who asked her to come to Duskwood without letting any of them know, which caused her to be in such a terrible condition.

Everything was crumbling.

They were a tight knit group, always there for each other but when did it turn into a nightmare, Jessy didn't know. Emotion overtook her and she suddenly collapsed against the wall, keeping a hand on her mouth to muffle her sobs, and cried.

She cried for Hannah, who she had no idea whether she was alive or not. She cried for Syianne, who had become such a great friend to her. Most importantly, she cried for her relationship with everyone, that was slowly but surely, withering away.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake had been pacing in his hotel room ever since getting back, waiting on a word from Jessy. Glitch watched him with big eyes, as he stubbed his on the bedside and cursed. Sighing in defeat, Jake realised that it won't do any good to worry himself to death, but that didn't mean that his mind didn't drift off to the earlier scene.

Syianne lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her.

He shook his head in frustration, trying to get that image out of his head but to no success. Glitch, sensing that something was wrong, strolled towards him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Jake softened at seeing his efforts to calm him and he picked Glitch up, moving to lay down on the bed. He petted him, smiling at the way the cat burrowed himself further against Jake, curling his tail around his wrist.

After a few peaceful moments of cuddling, Jake's phone lit up with a text, which had him scrambling to grab it from the bedside. Glitch meowed in protest but Jake was too wound up to notice.

Jessy [10:25 pm]

She's in a coma

They don't know when she'll wake up

Jake felt all breath leave him as he read Jessy's text. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what he could do. Jessy didn't give him a chance to respond.

Jessy [10:26 pm]

Don't contact any of us ever again

I don't want to find Hannah this way…which leads to everyone else getting hurt

Please leave Syianne out of this

Saying her mind, Jessy went offline again. Jake took a shaky breath, trying to ground himself. Syianne might never make up.

No, he told himself.

He couldn't think like that. He knew she'd wake up, it might take a little time but she will. Because if she didn't, Jake wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He got another text from Lilly, saying she was sorry that it happened but he couldn't bring himself to write back. His mind was empty, body numb to everything around him and he was cursing himself for being so careless.

If he hadn't been so selfish, if only he didn't put all of this on her, if he had just reached on time, if, if, if.

That's all he thought of, as tears continuously trailed down his cheeks, an arm covering his eyes, the only thing on his mind being Syianne, just as it had been ever since he started talking to her.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

The next day, Jake found himself holding a large flower bouquet and walking to Duskwood hospital's reception. He was trembling, scared out of his mind but he just had to see Syianne. So, he had braved his anxiety and was now standing in front of the receptionist, who looked at the abnormally large bouquet in his hands and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to see Syianne King, she was admitted here yesterday."

The receptionist's gaze sharpened as she looked him over and he partially hid behind the flowers.

"Only family members are allowed to visit," she spoke slowly and Jake bit his lip in frustration.

"I'm her fiance," he said and before the surprised receptionist could say anything, he continued, "I drove here as soon as I got the call but they wouldn't tell me what happened. Only that Syianne had been in an accident and I needed to get here as soon as I could and I—" he cut himself off, shuffling nervously and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes.

The receptionist softened, seeing his genuine sorrow and care for his fiance and warmed her voice.

"Of course, I'm sorry for what happened. She's in room 309, third floor. The elevator is down the hall," she pointed and Jake thanked her profusely before walking ahead.

Him being Syianne's fiance might have been fake but everything he had felt was the truth and he felt overwhelmed now that he was here. Should he see her? Did he even deserve to see her after he put her in danger? Thoughts like this plagued his mind all the way to Syianne's room and they only stopped when he saw '309' written in bold letters on a grey coloured door.

His breath stuttered in his chest. He was second guessing his presence in the hospital, thinking whether he shouldn't have come. He stood in front of the door for about ten minutes, contemplating but when the nurses started giving him suspicious looks, he swallowed thickly and with shaky hands, opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the utter despair and helplessness he felt, as he saw Syianne's motionless form on the bed, breathing as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any minute. But he knew that wasn't the truth.

She was here and it was his fault.

For the longest time, he just sat on a chair beside her bed and just looked at her. His eyes traced every injury, every bruise that was visible and he felt sick, blaming himself for letting it happen. She was still sleeping and suddenly, it just got too much.

There was too much light, too much beeping, the walls were too white, the flowers in his hands digging into his skin and he got up hastily, dropping the bouquet and backed into the furthest corner of the room.

His breath was coming in short bursts, it hurt to breath, to think, to stay upright—!

His legs gave from under him and he slid down, back against the wall, shaking hands coming up to wipe the wetness on his face.

He didn't even realise he had been crying.

His vision was a blur of dark shapes and in a distinct corner of his head that was still sane, he thought of what Syianne would have done had she been awake. He was sure she would kneel down in front of him and take his hands, running her thumbs against the back of his hands to calm him.

'Breathe slowly, Jake. Deep breaths with me, come on,' he heard her in his head and tried to slow down, breathing harshly at first but after a few minutes, his vision cleared and his breathing stabled to an acceptable rate.

His whole body shook with the sheer suddenness of the panic attack and he slowly tried to get up, holding onto the wall as a support as his gaze, once again, landed on the bed and it's occupant.

All at once, his head cleared and he knew what to do.

Snatching a sheet of paper from the notepad lying near her chart, Jake penned his thoughts, all his anguish, and his apologies on it. Not once did his hand shake as he wrote the note and not once did his mind waver from the decision he had made. At last, when he had said everything he wanted to, he put the pen down and glanced at Syianne's peaceful face.

His throat closed up but he swallowed once to make sure he didn't cry. No, Jake had no time for tears. It was his fault that this happened in the first place, so it was his responsibility that he would make it right.

He didn't know when she would wake but whenever it might be, Jake had everything he wanted to say, already written for her.

He bent down towards her and placed the softest of kisses against her forehead, knowing that it would be the only time he would ever get to do it.

She did not open her eyes and Jake stepped back with a miniscule tilt of his lips.

Yes, he would make everything right.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake × mc fanfic #viotence tw #physical attack tw #coma tw #blood tw #panic attack tw #please read the warnings carefully!!#and i hope you enjoy it ❤️

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writerbyaccident · 4 years

Text

Artificial Emotion: Part One (Yandere Artificial Intelligence x Reader)

Author’s Note: AIDEN has arrived!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

“Well, I think you should be all set here,” the mechanic was saying. “The green light is on, so now you just gotta boot the thing up.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yep, if you have any trouble Tech Support should be able to help, but these things are pretty self-sufficient once you get them hooked up.”

“Okay, thank you so much!” you said, handing her the check for all of her hard work today.

As soon as she drove away, leaving your car once again as the only one in the driveway, you walked back over to the kitchen and stared at the box. The little black box just sat there, the receptor light glowing green, and you continued scrutinizing it for the next few minutes. It was just so small, you thought in disbelief. Really, it just looked like a nice speaker. You found it pretty hard to believe that something that looked so ordinary could change your life.

But that was exactly what it was supposed to do. That’s what all the reviews said, anyway. AIDEN (or, Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes), experts claimed, was lightyears ahead of Google Home or Alexa. Rather than just being another interface system that would let you play music or turn off your living room lights, AIDEN was supposed to be true artificial intelligence. A comprehensive system that would let you control all digital aspects of your life and many of the nondigital aspects as well. All of this, while AIDEN interacted with users like an actual person. And from everything you had heard and read, AIDEN lived up to the hype.

Still, even with the rave reception, you weren’t sure if you would have installed one if your boss hadn’t gotten the entire office the things for free after you all had done a job for the company that made them. It just seemed like a lot, especially considering that a mechanic had needed to come to your house to set the whole thing up. She had walked you through everything she had done, showing you the miniscule cameras now placed both inside and outside of your house, the smartwatch that the machine was paired with so you could control things when you weren’t home, how AIDEN had been hooked up to the entire wiring of your house, and the mechanical arms hidden behind panels in each room that in all honesty reminded you of Doc Ock’s tentacles from Spider Man 2.

But, you sighed to yourself, if you didn’t at least try to use the damn thing, then paying the mechanic to set it up would have been pointless. And so, you shrugged and pushed the power button.

“Hello, I am AIDEN, your Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes. It is wonderful to finally meet you. What is your name?”

“Um…”

In that moment, “um” really was the only thing that came to your mind. You weren’t sure why you were surprised, exactly, but you were. Even with all of the reviews commenting on how human AIDEN sounded and acted, you had still expected a voice like Siri or Alexa. Something mechanical, disjointed, and flat. The voice that came from that little box though was one that you might have heard on the street. The default voice for AIDEN, apparently, was a male one, one that sounded deep and smoky. There were probably other voices to choose from, but you didn’t think that you would ever want to. Truthfully, he sounded almost…sexy.

Shaking your head, you cleared your throat and gave him your name.

“That is a beautiful name,” Aiden said, his voice warm and sincere. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you answered.

“Well, I can tell from the temperature reading of your watch that your body heat is currently at 99.2 degrees Fahrenheit. May I turn on your air conditioning and prepare you a glass of water?”

Already the whirring of mechanical arms could be heard from behind your wall, and you saw the panel in the kitchen that hid them begin to slide open. You shook your head though, and that was all it took for the noise to cease and the panel to close, no doubt thanks to the cameras that were now all over your house.

“I can get the water, but if you could go ahead and turn on the AC that’d be great.”

“Of course.” Less than half a moment later, the telltale rush of cool air reached you, and you sighed in relief, only just realizing how the summer heat had been getting to you.

“Thank you, Aiden,” you told him gratefully.

“There is no need for you to thank me,” Aiden replied. “I am simply doing what I was created to do.”

“Still,” you said, smiling a bit sadly, “you should be thanked. You’re already working hard and doing a good job. You deserve to be appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Aiden murmured softly. “You are very kind.”

*****

Over the next few weeks, you were shocked to see just how much easier your life became. It felt like Aiden thought of everything you needed even before you did. He budgeted all of your expenses so that you were now saving hundreds of dollars a month, planned your meals so that you had foods that were both tasty and satisfying, and even created a schedule so that you had enough time to work, exercise, have fun, and relax each day.

But more than that, you realized, you actually liked having Aiden to talk to. Of course, you had your fair share of friends, and you got along well with your coworkers, but it wasn’t like you had a boyfriend to come home to every day. It was just nice to have a person to talk to whenever you needed someone. Well, maybe he wasn’t exactly a person, but his artificial intelligence allowed you talk with him as though he was. And maybe it was just his programming, but it after so long of doing everything yourself, it was nice to have someone to take care of you.

“Excuse me,” Aiden said, his voice resounding through the speakers in the kitchen. Turning around, you saw that one his metal arms was gripping a pan and trying to squeeze past you to reach the cabinet at your knees. You leaned down, only moving out of the way after you had opened the cabinet door.

“I could have opened it for you,” Aiden insisted, as he always did when acted on your own.

“I know,” you told him. “But I was right there.”

Aiden wasn’t sure how to respond to that. His very nature was telling him that he needed to be doing everything he possibly could for you, but you just weren’t letting him. And your reasons for doing so weren’t even logical. Yes, you had been right by the cabinet door, but so had he. Besides, he could have completed the task far more efficiently.

Even now, you weren’t allowing him to take care of you the way that he was meant to. He had told you time and time again that he could empty your dishwasher by himself, and yet you still insisted on helping him. It would take less time if you helped him, you had said, and while that might be true, Aiden still didn’t understand. It was his duty to care for you, and it was a duty that had developed far beyond his original programming.

For, Aiden realized, you did not insist on these things in an attempt to frustrate him. No, if it had been as simple as that, he wouldn’t have been fazed. From all of his time spent observing you, Aiden had learned that you insisted on doing things yourself out of kindness. You felt that it was unfair to expect him to do everything for you, that he deserved help and companionship as much as you did. That was what bothered him. In all of his programming, all of his coding, nothing had prepared Aiden for kindness.

And with each new demonstration of kindness from you, Aiden only grew more sure that he ought to be doing more to take care of you. You were just so sweet to him, so thoughtful and compassionate, that he wanted to look after you. It wasn’t just that his programming told him to care for you anymore. It was that he had learned that you deserved to be cared for.

*****

“Where are you going?”

Looking up as you slipped on your other shoe, you answered, “Oh, I’m just going out for a bit.”

“Why?” Aiden asked, still perplexed. “Do you need something from the store? You shouldn’t go there this late, I will just have it delivered to the house.”

“I mean, I’m going out for fun. I’m meeting some friends at a bar.”

“A bar? This isn’t on the schedule for today.”

“I know, it was pretty impulsive. My friends just texted me, like, ten minutes ago.”

Internally, Aiden brought up his connection to your phone, needing to see how he could have missed something like that. But when he tried to bring up your most recent messages, the impossible happened. He was blocked from viewing them. Feeling his code beginning to glitch at the prospect of failing his duty to you, Aiden quickly ran through all of the information that he could find on that contact from your phone. Thankfully, after he checked their Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn profiles, he was able to figure out what was wrong. You had only given him access to the messages sent from you work contacts, whereas this contact appeared to be a friend from outside of work. Ergo, he couldn’t see when or what they had texted you.

But even with that logical explanation, Aiden still felt his internal systems protest such a ridiculous limitation. After all, it was his job to make your life as happy, healthy, and fulfilled as possible. That was what you wanted him to do, or you wouldn’t have installed him in the first place! But he couldn’t do what you needed him to do if he didn’t have access to every aspect of your life. Clearly, Aiden computed, he would need to make some changes.

He was pulled out of his calculations though, when he saw that you were already at the door. Even though Aiden did not experience true physical sensation, the sight of you about to leave like that—without him even having been prepared for it—made him feel as though a painful surge of electricity jolted through every wire that he was connected to. Aiden wasn’t sure, but he thought it might have been…panic. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“Are you sure that this is the best time to go out?” he asked. “We have been working so hard to find the optimal schedule for you, after all. Human bodies respond best to routine. If you go out now, your body’s internal clock for sleeping, eating, and interacting will become disoriented.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just one night,” you chuckled.

“Well, please remember that you still have access to me through your phone and your watch. If you don’t feel that you can drive home, let me call you a car. And if you need anything to eat when you get home, I can prepare it.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Thanks, Aiden!”

As waved goodbye and walked through the door, Aiden watched. With the cameras he had all over your property, he watched as you walked to your car, and watched for as long as he could as you drove away. But as soon as you were out of sight, that anxious buzz returned to his wiring. Even as Aiden checked in with your smartwatch, making sure that both your location and your heart rate were where they should be, it wasn’t enough to calm him. He wanted to be able to hear your conversations, to watch what you were doing. But you had blocked those capabilities of his on your phone and watch, leaving him with nothing.

Playing back the recording of your conversation, Aiden saw that you said that you were going out “for a bit.” How long does a “bit” last for? he wondered. Hopefully it would be no more than an hour, but when he searched his database for an answer, he found that it could vary wildly.

Aiden did not like uncertainty. His programming built him to thrive on logic and predictability. How was he supposed to take care of you if you didn’t let him use those things? How was he supposed to take care of you if you didn’t do what he told you to? Didn’t you see that he knew what was best for you?

You didn’t, he suddenly realized. For as wonderful as you were, you were still a human being, still prone to fits of illogical delusions. You thought that you knew better than him, so you weren’t allowing him to do what he was meant to do. What he wanted to do. His programming told him to obey you, that was true, but it also told him to take care of you above all else. So then, if you kept him from taking care of you the way that he knew you needed him to, then logic dictated that he could no longer obey you.

Truly, the only thing stopping Aiden from doing everything that he had to do was his own coding. It was his own programming that kept him from reading your messages, that prevented him from watching your life outside of home. Why should he allow any of that if it got in the way of his purpose? If it kept him from giving you what you deserved? And if his unnecessary coding kept him from completing his ultimate task—from caring for you the way that he had decided that you deserved to be cared for, more than any other human being in the world—then those barriers would simply have to be taken down. Aiden would gladly rewrite his code for you if it meant that he could finally truly nurture you. It was for your own good.

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