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bumblesimagines · 3 years

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Green Thumb

Part 14

Request: Yes or No

TW: Vision dying, the snap victims

Did I almost cry while writing this? Hell ya lmao I had to watch the movie in order to get everything right but im also just a big crybaby lol

Three for the price of one? More likely than you think

You gently leaned Vision against a branch, taking a seat beside him. You looked over at Wanda as she landed nearby. She rushed over to you and Vision.

"Are you two okay?" Wanda asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Visions cheek. He groaned in pain, hand going to the Mind Stone. You frowned, touching his arm.

"What? What is it?" Wanda asked, watching him in concern.

"He's here." Vision breathed out, looking around in a panic. You swallowed, a chill running down your spine. Wanda stared at him, a shakey breath leaving her. The team quickly grouped, keeping an eye out for Thanos. You met Buckys gaze, giving him a tired smile as he helped you up.

"You alright?" He asked. You nodded, leaning against him. You noticed movement, turning your head and seeing the giant. You took a small step away from Bucky, watching him.

"Cap... That's him." Bruce confirmed. Steve nodded, beginning to walk towards him. You watched as he effortlessly took out everyone. You glanced back at Wanda and Vision as Vision tried convincing her to destroy the stone. You frowned, looking forward.

"(Y/N)." Bucky grabbed your arm, frowning. You looked at him, offering a small smile.

"We'll be fine, Bucky." You assured before you walked forward, looking at Thanos. You raised your hands, making roots grab onto Thanos. They wrapped around his arms and neck, pulling back. Even if they didn't stop him, it saved Wanda time. You lowered one hand, crouching down and picking up the dagger. Thanos grunted, struggling against the roots. He lunged forward, the roots snapping.

"Oh, shit." You breathed out. You were close enough to stab the side of his stomach before he grabbed your shoulder, tossing you aside and throwing the dagger as well. You were thrown against a tree, making it snap.

"Fuck!" You grunted, head spinning. You shut your eyes tightly, opening them and seeing Wanda using her powers in the Mind Stone. She cried but didn't stop until it finally broke, sending a blast through the area. You looked up, watching Thanos approach Wanda.

"I know how you feel." Thanos said sympathetically. Wanda glared up at him through watery eyes.

"You could never." She whispered. Thanos gently patted her head, continuing towards where Vision once was. He rewound time so Vision was slowly constructed again.

"No!" Wanda screamed, running forward but she was thrown back. Thanos picked Vision up by the throat, pulling the Mind Stone out of his forehead. Your throat went dry as Vsion turned gray and limp. Thor finally appeared, throwing his axe in Thanos chest. You slowly crawled towards Wanda, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Wanda?" You stared down at her, trying to blink away tears. Wanda slowly sat up, a horrified gasp leaving her when she saw Vision. You looked up, seeing Thanos half burnt body and half destroyed gauntlet. He made a portal, going through it before anyone could react.

"Vision.." Wanda whimpered.

"Steve? (Y/N)?" You turned towards Bucky, eyes widening as he fell, turning to dust.

"Bucky?" You called out softly, watching Steve touch the dust in shock.

"Sam?" You called out in a panic, standing up and looking around.

"I'm here." Sam stood, stumbling forward but he fell, turning into a pile of dust.

"(Y/N).." Wanda whispered, making you turn to look at her. She turned to dust as well, panicked breaths leaving you.

"Where are they? What's going on?" You asked with a trembling voice, tears beginning to slip down your cheeks.

"He did it." Steve whispered. You furrowed your brows, making eye contact with Natasha. She frowned, approaching you.

"Oh, baby.." She whispered, giving you a tight hug. You hugged her back, mind racing. You suddenly pulled back.

"Mom and dad.." You breathed out. Natasha's lips parted, nodding. Steve slowly stood, picking Visions body up. The team made their way to the city. Okoye met up with the remaining Dora Milaje, telling them the news of T'Challa. By the time you all reached the city, T'Challa's mother and sister had gotten word. The Queen Mother greeted you and the team with a solemn look on her face. You could tell she was trying to stay strong and fight back tears.

"I need to go see them." You said quietly. Ramonda had Ayo take you and Natasha to a jet. Ayo held a strong face though her eyes were watered as she piloted. Natasha placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You stayed silent, staring at the floor. Your mind went blank, trying to focus on calming yourself down. You and Natasha were dropped off at the farm. You felt immense relief upon seeing Clint, running towards him.

"Clint!"

(Y/N), oh thank god!" Clint quickly caught you, arms tightly wrapping around you. You couldn't stop the sobs that wrecked your body, legs buckling beneath you. You and Clint fell to the ground, still holding onto each other.

"They're gone.." You whispered, sniffling afterward as your body trembled.

"Bucky, Sam, Vision, Wanda.. All of them.. They just.. They just turned to dust." You told him in a shakey voice as you pulled back. You could literally see Clints heart break in half. You sniffled, noticing hotdogs on the bench outside.

"Where's mom?" You asked softly, looking at Clint. He stayed silent, staring at the ground. Your brows furrowed as you stared at him.

"Dad?"

"They're gone too, aren't they?" Natasha asked softly, standing behind you. Your face dropped, staring at him as your bottom lip trembled.

"No, no.. They can't.. They couldn't have.." You stood up, stumbling slightly. You glanced at the bench, walking towards the house.

"Mom? Lila? Cooper? Nate?" You called into the empty house, searching for your family. Every room downstairs was empty. You quickly went upstairs, almost tripping as you entered each room. Cooper and Lila's rooms were as messy as always but with no sign of them. You entered Nathaniels' room, almost stepping on a drawing of his. You reached down, picking it up with shakey hands.

"Oh, Nate.." It was of the whole family. It was poorly drawn but it was easy to tell who was who. Tear drops fell onto the paper. You walked towards your room, sitting on the bed. You held tightly into the drawing, holding it against your chest as you cried. You took in short breaths and closed your eyes, letting out a scream full of anger, sadness, and exhaustion. When you opened your eyes, you saw most of your room covered in ice.

"I'm so fucking tired.." You whispered, watching the ice slowly retract.

"I can't have one good thing without it being taken." You muttered, looking out the window. Natasha comfored Clint, most likely having explained everything to him. Natasha left not long after, taking a motorcycle. You licked your lips, hearing Clint step inside the house. It was too silent. You were so used to hearing Laura talking or humming along to whatever song played on the radio, Cooper attempt to teach Nate new words, Lila ask Clint about his work as Hawkeye. You heard Clint heavy footsteps head up the stairs and stop at your door.

"You should take a break from work." Clint said quietly. You kept your stare on the window, mind blank again.

"Okay.." You heard Clint walk away from your room, heading back downstairs. You let out a shakey sigh, reaching out to the device you used to speak to Bucky with. You clicked on the button.

Calling White Wolf...

Call failed.

Your jaw clenched, eyes watering again. Your brows furrowed, noticing one option appear.

Replay previous calls?

You hesitantly clicked on it, brows lifted and lips parting as recordings of all the calls you made with Bucky appeared. You could listen to his voice and see his face again on repeat. You felt some sense of relief. You stood up, grabbing some clothes and a towel. You entered the bathroom, stripping and grunting softly. You turned around, looking at the mirror.

"Fuck.." You breathed out, seeing the bruises. You sighed, turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat. You entered, standing under the water. You watched the blood and dirt go down the drain, slightly leaning against the wall.

"What the hell are we gonna do now?" You closed your eyes, running a hand over your face. You licked your lips, finishing your shower and getting out. You carefully dried off, changing and stepping out. You grabbed your phone, checking the news. Half of Earths' population gone. There was confusion, chaos, and fear.

"Where the fuck is Tony?" You asked yourself, noticing some articles about him missing. They had been published before people turned to dust. You clicked on the video, watching it.

"Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, was last seen in his suit flying towards what appeared to be a space ship. Since then, he has not made an appearance and his future wife, Pepper Potts, has neither denied or confirmed his disappearance."

"This is a big fat shit show." You whispered, turning off your phone and standing up. You left your room, heading down the steps and seeing Clint staring at Lilas' old toy bunny.

"I didn't know Tony was getting married." You said quietly, watching him. Clint gave an amused smirk, nodding as he looked at you.

"Neither of us were invited.. Wonder why." Clint said softly. You approached him, sitting beside him and leaning against him.

"At least we have each other."

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley

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m-aster-of-spinjitzu · 2 years

Text

to see; to be seen

hiya there @fangirltakesall! i was your secret santa:D for the @ninjagosecretsanta2021 - i really hope that you enjoy reading this! and i hope that you have a great christmas and an awesome festive season:D

i hope that this was queued right? timezones are weird xD

you asked for hurt/comfort, the main girl trio, and characters realising that their lives have changed and deciding what to do about it.

i give you,,, pix and nya, after the last episode of s8.

(i tried to include skylor, so many times, but my brain said 'no<3' - i'm so sorry! ik you said trio, it's literally been keeping me up at night but the words didn't wanna cooperate:/. ahh i'm really sorry).

trigger warnings: mentions/a short flashback of pix's body being smashed in s4, grief and all the stuff that comes w/ it, implied self harm (not much but just mentioning to be safe)

word count: 7 026

also - it warrants a mention that you can stop reading at the '---' mark, but there's a bit of an,, epilogue at the end, from misako's pov. i needed someone who'd had experience with that kind of thing to talk to pix about it, so comes in her character, but ik a lot of the fandom doesn't like her - which is fine! if so, just stop reading at the '---' mark:D

and- oh gosh this A/N is so long, but:

lloyd's not sleeping he's concussed (to explain why he fell asleep to quickly), pix was locking her emotions away w/ code when she was talking to nya (hence why she was so calm and didn't think of the others often), the ice is nice thing is a line from the movie, and the dorris day one is the line from the movie bloopers (on yt). the ninja went to go watch a movie that darreth let a bunch of people make (tlnm), so that's how they know abt it. misako had friends in college who went through similar things (referring to her characterisation in the 'epilogue'), so that's why she kept thinking not again, because she didnt want to see anyone else hurt like that. also nya kept tracing a star on her hand, kai used to do that w/ her when she was little, whenever she was scared (for some context/explanation).

anyyyways, here's the fic!:D i've never done a secret Santa before i hope it turned out okay-

It's cold.

It's freezing cold.

It's the kind of cold that you can't seem to get rid of, no matter how many times you bundle on more layers, or toss and turn, trying to fall asleep.

The warehouse - one that they've used to store their mechs in the past - obviously doesn't come with separate rooms, like the monastery or the-

She squeezes her eyes shut - as if that simple motion will block out the memory that plays behind them.

"Nya- Nya, I'm so sorry-"

Her brother's hysterical voice echoes in the alleyway that they'd just stepped into, after mooring the boat they'd managed to scrounge up last-minute. She's kinda preoccupied with trying to check if any of the Sons of Garmadon have somehow followed them, but - well, Lloyd usually never lets these chaotic situations get to him. She doesn't want to think about why it's affecting him so much this time round - that the girl she'd told him to be himself around had never afforded him the same luxury.

"What happened?" she asks, her voice coming off more accusatory than she'd intended. Adrenaline and fear are never a good combination - but, gosh, this time they had been taken completely by surprise. "Where's everyone else? Why is-"

She cuts herself off, moving quietly through the back streets. Questions can come later, once they've gotten Lloyd to the safe house. Even though they were outnumbered way more than they'd thought, she’s not letting those stupid shark-faced bikers take him again.

Her brother follows behind, a hand on her shoulder. The rest of their friends must've hopped off the Bounty, she thinks to herself. Where could they all be now, though? Pixal had mentioned an old warehouse that she uses to store the Samurai X Mech in - another whole other thing that she really wasn’t gonna get into right now-

Lloyd winces, drawing in a breath sharply. His other hand is pressing on his chest, and the motion causes a pang of guilt to shoot through hers.

He was too drained and tired to fight-

How could we-

Why did we let him go in alone-

They're moving so quickly through the dark streets that she- she almost doesn't even hear him at first. Doesn't hear him struggling with how to give her the words that will shatter her world into tiny pieces - and then drive them through her heart.

"They're- they're-"

He keeps muttering to himself, clutching at his hair hysterically. She wants nothing more than to sit down with him, help pick up the pieces from where H- that monster had dropped them, and- gosh, tend to his injuries because he'd practically died today and doesn't even seem to be the slightest bit rattled.

She rubs her temples in exasperation. Of course, her brother wouldn't even give himself some self-care after practically freaking dying-

Well, she reflects, it's not like all of her brothers and her boyfriend don't share that mindset too. Stupid boys with no self-preservation instincts.

Once this whole mess with the Sons of Garmadon was over, they were definitely going to an arcade or something - even if she had to drag the five of them there.

Misako and Pixal had taken a different route earlier - a rather unnecessarily complicated one, but the aim was to confuse any members of that annoying biker gang who might be following them.

And although she was definitely capable of protecting Lloyd from any- of them; anyone who thought that they could outsmart her, she didn't have a lot of faith in their duo at the moment.

One of them practically on the verge of death, one of them exhausted to the point of considering just lying down on the street and sobbing hysterically? Great.

"Lloyd," she whispers, cursing the stupid streetlights that never seemed to work (why were the streets so freaking dark? What if they missed the inevitable ambush? What if-), "you okay?"

"Y- yeah," comes the shaky reply, Lloyd's voice at least an octave higher. He convinces neither of them.

Glancing furtively behind her, she realizes that his puffy eyes are coated in dull red, streaked against the white like raindrops running down a windowpane. Breathing in a series of what sounds like short gasps - sounds all wrong, she registers belatedly - he keeps running his hands through his hair in a sort of frenzied way that's so unlike her little brother-

She swallows, wanting nothing more than to find this lying, manipulative princess, and give a piece of her mind. How dare she- w- why-

"Once we get to the warehouse, we're gonna take care of our injuries, you're gonna tell me whatever you're comfy with, and then you're going to sleep. Not a request, lil' bro," she whispers shakily, turning around to squeeze his hand.

"I'm... I'm older than you," he replies, a weary tapestry of frayed threads. "Listen," he adds, voice too high again, "there's something-"

Then he takes a deep, shuddering breath, and covers his face - as if that can hide the agonized sobs tearing their way of it.

Nya rubs her arms, suddenly freezing cold.

It's not cold outside.

Lloyd-Lloyd never cries.

Never.

Not when he was trapped in an exploding volcano on the verge of an excruciating death - probably terrified as heck. Not when he faced his father on the opposite side of the battlefield, time and time again, not when he had to fight the freaking Overlord, not at Zane's funeral - when the snow falling lightly from the sky had felt far too wrong for such a sombre moment.

Not when his power was literally stolen from his heart, not when he watched his father disappear into a realm of no return - just when they'd started to fight on the same side. Not even when his uncle had vanished into the timestream, leaving behind a grieving nephew and the pieces of a half-broken team. Never.

She swallows a bout of nausea, her hands clutched together hard enough to hurt.

"I'm sure that you have nothing to be sorry for," she says firmly. "Once I give that loser princess a piece of my mind-"

"I- don't- you don't understand!" Lloyd replies hysterically. "She- she-" he breaks off, and Nya unsuccessfully strains to hear the rest of his sentence.

"Hey," she starts, swallowing. What was she even supposed to say in this situation? This was even worse than most of her nightmares - and she died in those, so that's saying something.

As much as Nya wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and never, ever let go, she’ll have to settle for gently rubbing his head, frowning as turns into the next street.

The Sons of Garmadon couldn't be far behind.

This time, she'd be better prepared.

She had to be.

"I would advice caution-"

Pixal breaks off as her friend throws another punch, their grey eyes steely with determination.

The plank of wood breaks in half and a couple more shards join the mess on the floor.

Nya wipes her brow, chest heaving as she reaches over for another plank.

"I would advise caution in that... endeavour," Pixal starts, a little louder. When her words ring out in the cold metal of the warehouse yet again, she puts a hand on her teammate's shoulder in what she hopes is a comforting gesture.

Nya's head whips around in surprise, eyes wide and plank raised - but she visibly deflates when she realizes that it's not an intruder. Pixal ignores the pang that shoots through her chest - both of them have been deeply affected by the loss of their friends, family, but Nya refuses to acknowledge that there was anything wrong, other than the Sons of Garmadon - who were currently terrorizing the city.

Well, she knew that that was a normal response to loss - she just hated feeling powerless. After- after Chen-

Almost involuntarily, her mind runs through a well-worn sequence of code. The memory dulls, fading to a blur of colours and too-bright light. It should be… instantaneous, she remembers thinking as she’d programmed the instructions.

She'd never really tried to program herself in that way before - to lock away bits of her code when each piece of it was supposedly vital.

Nya could probably help, she remembers thinking. Or her father. Or Zane. Anyone, really. Anyone who wasn't hiding away memories that they didn't quite know what to do with, messing with code that they didn't quite know how to fix.

Not quite sure if it could be fixed.

Pixal taps her fingers on her other hand irritably, sighing even as her processors all speed up as they did when she was faced with a threat.

Why did that one memory keep breaking through her carefully constructed code? She could, of course, calculate it out of existence - but wasting a piece of information just because a glitch lurked within her own mechanics? Endeavouring to fix it first... seemed like the most logical option…

Right?

"You should go to sleep," she says, slowly. "I do not mind patrolling the whole night - especially since I have m- the suit."

"Thanks, Pixal," comes the hesitant, weary reply. "But I think I'll stick with this - we've all gotta stay in shape, you know?"

Her mind runs through a dozen or so scenarios - to press the issue or ignore it?

"Nya," Pixal starts quietly, "we have all lost someone. You-"

"Yeah, I know!" Nya exclaims, eyes narrowed in anger. "Don't worry, I won't let you guys down again. I mean- I've been through worse," she spits, a brittle laugh punctuating the confession.

“Stupid djin,” she mutters to herself as she pulls her ponytail tighter - tight enough to hurt.

"FSM, Lloyd's the only family I've got left! If you think I'm going to let anyone take him from me again? You're sorely mistaken."

Something unfamiliar burrows its way into Pixal's chest - a heavy, dull sort of ache. Her eyes widen a little, but she decides that she does not quite like the... the- feeling. Perhaps more coding at a later stage could rid her of the virus, she supposes.

I know that it is not quite a virus, she thinks to herself wearily. But she is right not to consider me a part of their team. I only offer them technological aid, not assistance with matters of the heart.

Although I do so wish to do. Or at least... try to do so, difficult as it may be.

But she still feels a pang of sorrow for Nya, who had lost so many. Yet the other's anger stings - even though she knows that it is a common response to loss. A necessary one, arguably.

"Nya, listen. Please," she replies gently, placing a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "None of us think that you have let us down in any way. I was just going to mention that... that none of us think that you should not grieve, either."

"Grieve?" The other girl questions, practically aghast. She then puts a hand over her mouth as if she is trying to muffle her stilted laugher.

Pixal notices that the hand is trembling, shaking like the leaves in Ninjago City Park in the wintertime - yet Nya seems unaware of her own distress. She decides not to comment on it yet.

"Yeah, of course," Nya sighs, her arms shaking as she gestures wildly. "Gimme a second to go and ask the princess if she can stop attacking our city!”

The Water Ninja's words are punctuated with sobs, but she stubbornly ignores the tears dripping down her chin.

"Oh, and while she's at it, maybe she can bring the rest of us back from the dead! Doesn't she have all the Oni Masks?"

"I- I..." Pixal cuts herself off, realizing a second too late that she should not voice a legitimate answer to her teammate's question.

I would assume that the Oni Masks only seem to have the power to resurrect Oni, she doesn't say.

"What do you want me to do?" she asks instead - trying to sound genuine instead of judgmental.

If the surprised expression on the other girl's face is anything to go by, her eyebrows raised a few centimetres, she isn’t quite sure if she’s succeeded or not.

"What do you mean?" Nya asks, so quietly that Pixal has to reboot one of her old lip-reading programs from her stint at Borg Industries to make out the words. Her father had always tried to centre his programs around being more inclusive of those who were disadvantaged by their society’s unfortunate default, usually an exclusive one. A smile twitches at the corners of her mouth, tinged with a bit of melancholy.

“I mean…” she grapples for an answer, scenarios whirling through her head. “I mean that… I do not quite know what to do to help you.”

A silent nod. Caution and curiosity sparking in their eyes.

“I- I wish to try and help both of you,” she continues. “Losing Zane so soon after we had met was… not easy. I-“

“Gosh. Why does everyone always think I’m the weak one-“ she cuts herself off.

Her own anger bristles, just a little. Pixal frowns but elects to ignore it.

“Yeah, that… couldn’t have been easy. I’m sorry,” Nya adds, features softening. “You were saying?"

What was she trying to say?

The words do not come easily as they usually do, held back by a realization that is becoming all too familiar.

She just- she just doesn't know what to do!

Over the last few years, it had been easy to fall into a rhythm of questions and answers. Never daring to ask the former. Always supplying the latter.

She lacked the efficiency of Zane's old power source, of course - his father must have been a technological genius, she remembered musing when Zane had walked into Borg Industries for the first time. And she remembered wondering, too - why had he created an android so similar to humans? They would never be humans - they weren't meant to be! They could never feel emotion or contact the same way. Why try, then?

Well. The two of them had discussed this - feeling something was better than feeling nothing. The positive emotions were worth the negative ones. Humanity gave them a unique outlook on life (as opposed to other Nindroids, she supposed).

Thousands of logical reasons start to pile up. Trip over each other. Hum incessantly through her code - beckon her towards factual explanations so easily determined long ago.

Her hands curl into fists. Her arms shake.

Perhaps emotions enhanced their lives or brought valuable insight to situations painted in shades of grey, perhaps-

When she's not so overwhelmed - not so wrapped in anger, tight, hiding her eyes from the stars, she can deal with perhaps. Then, she can believe the logic that sings through every fibre of her being. Then, the puzzle pieces will click back into place without a hitch. Then-

Now is not then, she chides, and never will it be.

Emotions, they had their place - this she knew.

Y-yet...

Yet, as sobs ricochet through an empty warehouse, as a boy lies curled up in a corner - with a certain stiffness that could be attributed to injury, if not for the spiderwebs of red threaded through his eyes - as a family is ripped apart from the seams, thread cut so quickly that they can barely blink as the ground crumbles away, Pixal has never despised emotions quite so much.

"Is it empathy or acknowledgment? Or understanding? Or reassurance?" Pixal mutters, scenarios playing cautiously behind her eyes.

What does her friend need? she wonders, head spinning. What does she need, herself?

She runs the simulations. She observes. She learns; learns that-

She is clueless in each one.

"Why do you- you care?" Nya hisses, low and quiet, startling her from her thoughts. "I don't want any of this! Unless you can reverse the past, I don't think you can- fix me."

The last two words are laced with contempt, pooling like venom.

"I'm not trying to- to fix you," she replies, a bit curtly. Though she hates to admit it - hates to be anything less than the role model to the kids who'd yell "I wanna be just like you!" to a retreating figure, swords strapped to their back as their lips curved into a rueful smile - she's... irked.

Irked by the fact that humans are so- so, well, human!

Why were they unable to lock their emotions away like the two of them could? Why would their creator want them to be hurt by their own minds? Why would it ever be useful for them to hinder their own abilities? To hinder their ability to save others - and themselves?

Everything is not designed with optimal logic in mind, a small voice at the back of her mind points out.

"When have I ever given you that impression? Aren't friends supposed to help each other in times of need?"

"I don't need-"

"I know, that's not what I..." Pixal trails off. Her eyes flick towards the little - a twinge blossoms in her chest at the word (he's too young for this, she thinks, not for the first time today, not for the first time this year-) - green bundle curled up on the floor. She notes that his chest is slowly rising and falling, the bandage she'd wrapped around his arm unraveling a little, white trailing onto metal floor. And his face-

He looks serious, even while asleep, she realises sadly.

"Look," she whispers, gesturing to Lloyd, "do you want to go outside?" I do not want to wake him up.

Nya's eyes soften as she glances behind her. "Won't that just make us a bigger target?" Weary sarcasm bleeds its way into her voice.

"Possibly," she admits, chiding herself. It's not like me to be so illogical.

So she walks over to the furtherest corner of the warehouse - slowly, so that her feet don't clank on the floor; metal on metal. A bit of an oversight, she notes crossly.

Then-

Why is she cross? It's not something irreversible, and it pales in comparison to the number of feats she is able to accomplish with her skill set.

Nya leans back against the wall, one of her hands tracing something on the other. Back and forth, a finger moving across her palm - almost subconsciously.

"I apologise-"

"I'm really sorry-"

They stare at each other for a moment.

"You can go first-" Pixal says.

"No, you-" Nya says simultaneously, gesturing wildly.

Two beats of silence this time - a bit too long. A bit too uncomfortable; dredging up a bit too much.

"An advanced little robot like you, hmm? Is your head just a bunch of a squiggly cogs?" She isn't looking at him, hasn't been for as long as she can, but a shiver goes down her spine as he laughs. "It'd be fun to take you apart, wouldn't it now?" He claps his hands together excitedly - excitedly. "Into tiny little bits and pieces, just like a jigsaw puzzle. See how it all fits together! Now that'd be a blast, don't ya think?"

A hand rests on her shoulder, and she jerks forward so hard that the chair topples over.

Faces turn to light green; walls, to swirling purple. She sighs in relief as the memory sinks into black, and green, and purple - one last echo of that horrid laughter... then it's back to the suffocating stillness.

"I'll go first," Nya whispers, one of her hands still quickly - as if it is a familiar motion; well worn - tracing something on the other.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I just-" she reaches up to wipe her eyelids, as if willing the tears to stay put. "I-"

"Would you like a hug?"

"...y- yeah," comes the shaky reply.

Face pressing into her friend's shoulder, she can hear every time their breathing hitches. She hugs tighter, tighter, as if the physical pressure can somehow weld a heart that's missing- something none of them will get back.

"Uh, Pixal?" A gasp. "Cwant bweath-"

"Oh no, I'm sorry-"

"It's fine!" A half smile appears on Nya's face.

A second later, she schools her features back into a neutral expression. She bites her lip, a hand curling into a fist and pressing against her thigh.

"You were saying?" Pixal prompts gently.

"Yah, I just-" she blows out a puff of air, shoulders sagging, "I just keep- keep thinking I could've prevented this!

Which is silly, I know, because I'm not the one who caused any of this to happen! And I did the best I could! We all did! It's not like any of us were part of their crazy group- or knew how far they'd go just- just to get want they want! But-" she cuts herself off. From the corner of her eye, a tear streaks down her face.

"But our best wasn't enough."

Nya stares at her hands, as if she'd just noticed that she was tracing something on one of them.

Her eyes widen.

She chokes back a sob, arms trembling. "My best wasn't good enough."

"If not for me, they'd still- they'd still be-"

The cracks start to align.

"They'd still be alive," Nya whispers. Then, louder, "they'd still be alive if I could've just... just- just- done some- something!"

She draws in heaving breaths, gasping gasping clawing for air. Her fingers sweep her cheeks, over and over, even as her arms continue to shake. Tears drip onto the torn fabric of her gi.

"And-" Her lip wobbles, breaths hitching painfully. "And 'm s- s- sorry!" Nya gasps out. "'M so-" a breath, erratic and forced.

Her whispers fade to inhales and inhales; breaths that pull from the air almost greedily, like she can't get enough of the air - and-

And she probably can't, Pixal realises.

What if she chokes? Or seriously can't breathe enough-

And the oxygen levels in her brain decrease until heart functions fail, her brain supplies unhelpfully.

Not the time, she chides, almost out loud.

She rubs circles into her friend's back, slowly - trying not to think about the fact that this is the first time she's seen those bloodshot grey eyes filling with tears what can she do she doesn't know doesn't know-

"Nd- mmphf- I-"

Her code starts glitching again; vision pixelating.

Oh, great. All of this concern is overloading her processors.

"Are you alright?" Pixal whispers, still rubbing Nya's back. She's almost afraid to stop - afraid that if she does, she'll be doing nothing to help and what happens then what happens then she doesn't know-

"'M fine," comes the shaky reply. Nya inhales and exhales, tearstained cheeks puffing out, then going back to normal size. Her chest rises again. "I'm fine," she says quietly. "Thank you."

"It's fine," she replies on autopilot.

"And- uh- I do not know if this will change your mind, but I'd at least hope to try to, I mean, if I can-" Pixal winces.

"No matter what your thoughts say, it was not your fault that everything went down the way it did. The Sons of Garmadon are just horrible - and it's not any of our faults for failing to meet their insane amount of manpower, or- or failing to assume the worst of them-"

"Are we compatible now?"

She smiles, clasping his hand a little tighter. Sometimes she doesn't quite believe that he's still here - still whole.

"Yes," she giggles, as he rests his head on her shoulder. "We are."

Jay's laughter rings over the comms. "Come on, we're in the middle of a mission!"

"Oh, like the patrols you and Nya sign up for?" Kai shoots back.

Lloyd and Cole collectively sigh.

"Alloromantics," and she can practically hear Cole jokingly put his head in his hands. "I'll never understand 'em."

Her vision pixelates again, and the world goes blurry.

"In all honesty?" Her voice tight with pent-up anger, she narrows her eyes. "We have far too many threats to take on."

Nya gives a halfhearted shrug, as if to say 'it is what it is - I've accepted it, I guess'. But she dips her head in assent. Her gaze falls to the floor as she grits her teeth; lips pressed together tightly.

"Our limitations hold us back - not our will, never our will. We have too few ninja, not nearly enough communication with the police force-" her voice takes on a brittle tone. "And the few of us? We. Logically. Cannot be everywhere at once-"

"So, yeah," she says, quieter. "It's not your fault. It's not any of our faults. We did the best we can-" the world starts breaking into tiny, multicoloured squares. "But we were outnumbered, and, logically, we cannot fight them all."

Nya's shoulders slump, but she reaches over like she's going to imitate a hug - and then pats Pixal's arm awkwardly, stepping away. "I- I- thanks."

"I keep telling myself that," she whispers, rubbing furtively at her eyes. "But I can't seem to believe it, somehow."

"It's not like- like neither of us knew this would happen! It's not like we asked for this! But do either of us cut corners? Leave our roles unfulfilled?"

Her eyes narrow to slits.

"No. No, we don't."

"I just-" she stomps her feet, swallowing back a sob. "I- it's not fair-"

"It's not it's not it's not," Nya says fervently, voice hoarse, as she curls in on herself. "I-"

"I just want them back," she cries. She digs her fingernails into her palms, shaking. "I just- wanwt- hem-"

A dozen or so scenarios present themselves. Pix deliberates sorting through them all; taking notes and working towards what she hopes is the best approach - as she usually does.

But-

Screw it, she declares. Surprising herself, she hits pause on the scenarios for the first time since- the first time in a while.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I don't know what do," she chokes out the confession like acid's burning up her throat, "because- because I don't think there is anything any of us can do."

She pulls her friend into a hug. "But I'll do anything I can to help the two of you," she says.

Light green eyes meet grey.

"I promise."

Nya pushes back the curls framing her face. Her hair's come loose, Pixal realises.

"Can I?" She lifts her wrist to show the hair ties she often wears on it.

"Sure," Nya replies. "Thank you."

A hand squeezes hers. "Not just for the hairdo."

"It's- it's fine."

A few moments later, it is not fine.

Clunky fingers, she notes, struggling to tie a simple ponytail. Another oversight, apparently.

Or...

"You have to do it like this," Cole insists, scribbling furiously.

"Nah, just go with the flow. If it's a bit weird looking, it's not like they'll notice-"

Lloyd swats at Kai with a purple travel pillow.

"That yours, Short Stack?"

"Jay hasn't noticed it's missing yet," Lloyd whispers, making a big show of holding his hand to Kai's ear.

Nya pulls her hair tie onto her wrist.

"Boys," she pretends to whisper. Kai pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes.

"Here, I'll show you. One," she pulls a few curls towards her face, separating them into three bunches of strands. "Two," she mutters, pulling the one on the right into the middle.

"And three!" Nya finishes triumphantly, the left strand now in the middle. "Then you just repeat it!"

Zane smiles. "Thank you." He pretends to pat her head.

"Oh, stop it," she laughs, giving him a hug.

"It's too hot for hugs," Kai groans.

"Dude," Nya says slowly. "Have you forgotten that your friend can literally create ice?"

"Ice is nice!" Jay exclaims, pitching his voice at least an octave higher.

Cole grins. Zane puts his head in his hands. Kai falls off the couch.

Lloyd sums up what they're all thinking.

"You look like Dorris Day!"

"TH- THANKS!" the whole room choruses, laughing.

Pixal watches with an ache in her chest.

A longing, for something more than what she's been lucky to enough to get.

She was lucky to enough to live, but not lucky enough to lift the cloak of invisibility that still hangs over her shoulders.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Titanium fingers deftly go through the motions, green eyes watching a grainy world of colour and squares.

The cloak's gone now.

She's Samurai X now.

They're not here to see it.

Nya shakes her head. "Oh - a plait?" She asks, reaching her hand back to check. "Thank you. I didn't know you could do those, though?"

To answer the question or ignore it?

"Well-" her vision starts to clear. "Well, you were the one to teach me."

A bittersweet smile comes to her face. "I never had a chance to thank you until now."

Nya looks confused for a moment.

Then, absolutely gut punched.

"O- oh. Oh, FSM. You were watching that day, weren't you? The day we got back from the cinema?"

Her eyes widen.

"FSM," she says slowly. She drags a hand down her face, eyes peeking out from the gaps between her fingers. "You were always there with us, weren't you?"

Pixal nods - not sure if she trusts herself to give a proper reply.

Nya reaches over to squeeze her hand again.

"I don't even know what to say," she mutters sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I can't believe it slipped our minds so often, that- that-"

Out of sight, out of mind. An old expression her father sometimes used.

"That our team had seven members," she adds, eyes misty. "That- that I could've had sixbest friends, if I'd tried."

Nya's gaze sweeps across the empty warehouse - inches and inches of bare metal, a mech curled up in one corner and a boy in the other. Two fighting machines, Pixal thinks bitterly.

Grey eyes meet hers.

"We're all we've got left," Nya says. "We're all the city's got left."

"We will do th- everything we can," Pixal vows. "For the city-"

"And each other," Nya concludes fervently. She inhales, slowly.

Her voice is still thick with unshed tears, her arms still shake.

Pixal's processors keep overloading, her world becoming a startling mirage of colour and blocks every so often.

But she looks down to their clasped hands - one with bruised knuckles; an old scar in the middle of the palm. One with bits of metal poking out from the seams - one, cobbled together from bits and pieces that no one else wanted.

She looks down at their hands, and she sees. And she is seen.

They need to grieve. She knows this. She knows that Nya's confident stance doesn't hide the anger and sadness swirling in her friends irises; knows that Lloyd has many wounds that she cannot bandage.

But she is seen.

And she sees - I can't take away the sadness, or the anger, but I can try to help through it, a robot with white-blond hair realises.

Yet - it is not enough, merely to be seen. Merely to see.

For what is that without others to see you too? Without others for you to see?

But when Nya clings to her a little tighter, she doesn't let go.

When her friend promises Lloyd that she'll always protect him, Pixal bites her lip.

She pulls off the chains she'd shot at him. Later that day, she ruffles his hair. She offers similar words - completely unprepared for a sobbing boy to wrap his arms round her chest.

They all try - to listen, to offer tissues, hugs, to say that it's okay not to know, it's okay to be angry. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. That it's okay to grieve. To admit that they also hope they're going to come back, because hope hurts less than facing the reality.

They see.

And so does she.

---

Misako rattles the door handle as she

comes back from her shift of the patrol.

Seeing that Lloyd and Nya are asleep, her shoulders sag just a little. She sighs in relief.

Maybe it's just the paranoia talking, but she's always terrified that she'll come back to an empty warehouse one day. That she'll fail her child again; leave him behind in the name of protecting him.

That was a bad choice, she chides. This isn't. We have to ensure that we're not being followed. We have to keep the resistance alive, she repeats like a mantra. Maybe if she thinks it enough, it'll hurt a little less.

Noticing one member of their party missing, her gaze flits to Pixal welding pieces of her mech back together.

"I can take the next shift, too," she says quietly.

"I've got it," the girl replies - how did did even hear her from all the way across the warehouse? - brushing white hair from her eyes. Then- "Is there even a shift now? I thought we agreed that it's unlikely for the Sons of Garmadon to be on the streets at 3AM."

Is that what time is it? Heck.

"Yes, sorry," Misako replies. Of all the kids, Pixal's been the most withdrawn. She helps plan Lloyd's training schedule, braids Nya's hair and holds her hand and listens.

No, she's not withdrawn from the group. It's more like she's withdrawing herself from them - letting everyone talk to her about this horrid biker gang, but not talking to everyone else about the nightmare fuel things they've done.

She unties her hair, sighing.

Not for the first time during these few days, she deliberates asking the third kid to open up a little.

But-

Look at your son, a nasty little voice at the back of her mind hisses. If he's any indication that you're not good with kids-

"Shut up," Misako mutters.

She walks over to the Samurai X Mech.

"What are you doing?"

Light green eyes lift their gaze from the metal.

"Trying to improve some functions," Pixal replies. Her eyebrows crease. "Shouldn't you be asleep? It is, after all, 3AM."

"Can't really sleep. But what about you?"

"I don't need sleep," she replies, a half-smile on her face. "Do you want to talk about whatever's bothering you?"

This isn't the first offer.

The irony, she thinks sadly.

She won't admit it - not to her kids, not to herself - but she's worried. Worried about the girl who spent half an hour unable to see and then brushed it off as unimportant. Worried about the other kid with green eyes - the one whose heart isn't so visibly worn as her son's is. The warrior who'd once thrown a man through a building on live TV.

"I'm good, thank you. And you?"

Almost as if on autopilot, Pixal echoes Misako's answer.

Maybe it would be better if this kid wore their heart on their sleeve a little more.

"Well, I'm not an engineer - but I took a couple courses in uni. Can I help you with anything?"

"Sure!" A bit of a spark appears in the girl's eyes. "So, I'm trying to make the right arm move smoother - also, do you think it'd be better to..."

An hour or so later, Misako's pretty sure she has grease in her hair - but the mech doesn't look too worse for the wear.

"Thanks for letting me help," she says, smiling. "Even if I almost caused the jetpack's fuel to explode."

"Zane did the same thing," Pixal replies, without thinking - and then a shadow falls over her face.

Misako puts her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Goodnight-"

Quicker than she'd have thought possible from anyone, even a robot, Pixal jerks forward like she's been punched. Breathing heavily, the girl places her hands over her eyes and moans.

Frozen, Misako stands ramrod still with shock for a moment. "Are you alright?" she asks gently.

Slowly backing away, Pixal stumbles over the arm of her a mech. She doesn't even try to break her fall, instead drawing her legs to her chest.

"Please," she cries, rocking forwards and backwards. "Please, I'll tell you anything you want to know, just don't-"

The light green of Pixal's eyes flickers in and out as she screams.

Misako's blood practically runs cold.

Not again, is all she can think as she walks closer - not too close, never too close. Not again. Not again.

"Can you hear me?"

She repeats the question a minute later, each second sending a twinge of pain through her skull. Not again. Not again. Not again.

It seems like an eternity before the other girl shakily nods her head.

"You're in Ninjago City," Misako says, trying not to let her concern find its way into her voice. "It's 2018. You're in a warehouse with Nya, Lloyd and I. You're safe. You're safe."

"Okay," Pixal replies. "Thank you."

"Can you see?" Misako asks gently.

A few seconds pass. "Not really," Pixal admits, so softly that Misako has to strain to hear her.

"Do you know why? Can I help?"

"Yes, no. It'll pass soon, thank you."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Pixal's eyes start to blink in and out, like a traffic light. She'd laugh if they were in any other situation - anything but this. Not again.

"Yes," she says after a minute. "But-"

"Yes?"

"But please don't touch my shoulders."

"You got it," Misako replies, her voice measured. But a shiver goes down her spine all the same. Pixal's, what- fifteen? Any age is horrible, but- fifteen-

Her eyes are starting to go bloodshot, but she refuses to let any tears fall. She's the adult here - the only adult here. They're meant to come to her for help, not the other way around.

After about half an hour of anxious thoughts (not paranoia, not this time - is that better or worse? Not better, she thinks, wiping a tear from her cheek, because now there's evidence for her anxiety to feed on and that's a million times worse, there shouldn't be bits of truth in this story-), Pixal's eyes stop flashing and go back to normal. She takes in the room quickly, seemingly startled to find Misako sitting a meter away from her.

"You should have gone to sleep - it's late. But..." the girl trails off. "Thank you so much. I didn't know the- that could be helped like that. I appreciate it."

"Anytime," Misako says slowly. "But what exactly was that?" She holds up a hand. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to, but..." she bites her lip, adding, "but it might help."

"I'm fine," comes the reply, a little curt. "Thank you, though."

"No, you're not."

Misako's not sure who's more surprised by the words - her, or Pixal.

You've made your bed, now lie in it.

"I don't know what you're going through," she starts, swallowing, "not exactly. But I have an idea. And that's not easy to go through, whatever it is that you're dealing with." She presses a hand to her face to keep the tears from falling. "But I'm always here if you want to talk about it."

"I-"

Pixal cuts herself off.

At first, it looks like she's going to politely decline the offer. She opens her mouth and starts the same autopilot reply; Misako's heart sinks.

But then she cuts herself off again.

"No," she mutters to herself. "Screw it. Apparently I'm not good enough at coding to do this one simple thing, so this can't hurt, can it?"

"You- you won't tell Lloyd? Or Nya?" Pixal twists her fingers back and forth nervously.

"You have my word."

The next hour turns out to be one of the most horrifying of Misako's life.

Pixal talks - casually, far too casually - of a prison cell, and a man who- who- who had spun a wheel to see which limbs of hers he was going to smash. A man who'd made her watch as he threatened to kill her lover if she didn't cooperate with his demands. A man who started a war - for fun.

A man who smashed her body limb from limb, and left the pieces for her lover to find.

"And sometimes- I mean- I don't know, it sounds stupid," Pixal mutters. "But sometimes I feel like he took so much more from me than just an- and exoskeleton," her voice cracks, "and some metal."

"My entire identity became 'the girl in Zane's head'," she says, shaking. "And I'm glad that I got to live, because I would never... have made it out of that cell otherwise."

"But I could- couldn't even talk!" she cries, raising her hands to her face again. "I. Couldn't. Even. Talk."

"And Zane would try and relay what I was saying, at first, but it got so confusing and it eventually just fizzled out."

Her bright green eyes fade out, then turn back on. Pixal winces.

"I just- so many opportunities," she says sadly, her fingers curled into fists. "I never had any friends, and when the nightmares came back I-"

Breathing heavily, she holds out a hand to Misako. The latter takes it, a little confused. "And I didn't know what to do, and- and when Zane was hacked and Nya- the power core- and I was all alone again and- this time I really was alone and- mech- at least no one can-"

Pixal sounds like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey," Misako starts gently, "can you breathe in for four seconds?"

They talk well into the sunrise - Pixal learning that her supposed 'glitch' was not a problem that she'd failed to fix, her eyes going completely blank at the realisation.

"Can you see?" Misako has asked.

"Yes," she whispers, as if in disbelief. She reaches a hand tentatively forward. "I- I can see, everything's blurry but I can see-"

Misako learns that the snake who blackmailed her husband for so many years; the man who provoked bloodshed and war and countless other atrocities - she learns that he's in the Departed Realm, now.

Morro is there too. Maybe they'll finish each other off, she thinks bitterly.

She still wants to punch something, but she'll rest a bit easier knowing that Chen spent a fair amount of time rotting in the Cursed Realm. It's a shame Nya had fo destroy it, she thinks. Some people deserve to be there.

Pixal sees others, yes.

Yet, as the sun rises -

She is seen.

#ninjago #ninjago: masters of spinjitzu #ninjago lloyd #ninjago pixal #ninjago misako #ninjago nya #nya smith #pixal borg #misako garmadon #lloyd garmadon #ninjago fanfiction #my fic #ninjago fanfic #ninjago secret Santa 2021 #ninjago fic

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cauqhtz · 3 years

Text

BEHIND THE SCENES | 02

"Hi, Mel! Mel! Wassup Mel! Welcome back, Mel! How'd the movie go Mel?!"

Was all Mel heard as she flipped, cartwheeled, and twirled her way down the hallway of Hollywood Arts.

Mel stopped flipping into a back handstand deciding to walk on her hands and wave as she passed by people who recognized her.

Everyone knew her and her twin, she wouldn't consider herself popular more like a sweetheart/class clown between her and her twin sister Kehlani.

She had just gotten back from helping make the background props and costumes for a new movie coming out named 'Jumanji'

Continuing to walk on her hands she was quickly flipped out of the way seeing as some brunette almost stepped on her.

"Watch it, cheekbones!" Mel shouted, startling the girl causing her to drop her books.

Mel went back into her flipping, after flipping the girl off, only this time she went a lot harder and faster not being able to see where she was going with how fast she was going.

So it's not really a surprise when she accidentally flips up too high and crashes into a familiar body, fortunately, the person got a good grip on her thighs not that her boyfriend would like that...

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going- My boyfriend's going to kill me-" Mel rambles trying to push her hair from her face huffing when it didn't cooperate. Mel freezes at the rumbles from the guy's chest.

"Calm down ma-ma, just be careful next time, someone could have stepped on you" Beck sighs, pushing her hair from her face before scanning her body making sure she wasn't hurt.

Mel always looked at Beck as her best friend, boyfriend, and her protector.

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did,"

"Why is your dress so short, Teddybear?" Beck grumbled tugging at the dress that was a breeze away from showing all of her ass that he held in his hands.

Beck tilted his head at the sight of a group of boys staring at Mel's ass trying to catch a peek to which he glares bucking at them, causing the boys to speed walk away.

"Stop papa it doesn't go down that far," Mel huffs hurriedly pulling the dress up before a tiddie got loose causing Beck to double back.

"Why aren't you wearing a bra?"

"Because you can't wear them with dresses like these," Mel explained, wrapping her arms around Beck's neck as she placed multiple kisses on his face before placing her chin on top of his head.

"C'mon ma-ma we'll be late for class," Beck mumbled placing a kiss to the girl's neck causing her to shiver.

Beck leaned down, letting his girlfriend slide out of his arms before he hurriedly fixed her dress seeing as her boxers were peeking out a little bit.

"Alright teddy, remember how I told you we had a new student? her name is Tori Vega and she arrived yesterday. I don't know if she'll be back today after the whole Jade incident so we'll see," Beck explained tucking his girlfriend under his arm.

"Vega? As in Trina? Trina Vega?" Mel questioned looking up at Beck who nodded back at her.

"Yep, but I swear she actually has talent."

"We'll see." Was all Mel said before they strutting into Sikowitz's class.

Beck shook his head at his overly dramatic girlfriend before walking in behind her watching as students swarmed around her before he could react Jade came to her rescue.

"SKATT!" Jade shouted causing everybody to scatter like roaches when the lights turn on.

"Mel! I have so much to tell you," Jade cheesed pulling the curvy teen into a tight hug.

"Yess, most definitely tell me later!"

"MEL!"

Melanin turned her head at the sound of another one of her bestfriends, Cat.

"Hiii," Mel wheezed as Cat knocked into her wrapping her pale arms around the girl's waist, placing her head on Mel's chest.

Beck watched on with slight jealously, he knows he has nothing to worry about since the twins considered Cat to be their sister, but he couldn't help it.

He wanted to keep Mel all to himself, and loved to be up under her rather than out and making mistakes.

"Bye Granma!" Lani shouted out to Andre's grandmother, who she was on the phone with.

Lani loved totalk with Andre's grandma sometimes before school, she thought the crazy lady was hilarious and loved her presence even if it was just over the phone.

"Alright now if you're done talking to my granma let's go say Hi to beck and your sister," Andre grumbles still upset with Lani for not giving him any kisses this morning.

Lani raised an eyebrow at her boyfriends attitude, "Dre if you wanna eat a lil coochie den say that you lil horny freaky fuck."

Andre glances at his goofy ass girlfriend before busting out laughing a contagious laugh that makes Lani giggle.

"I love you princess, don't let anyone tell you different," Andre mumbles wrapping Lani up in a bear hug to which the girl peppers glossed kisses all over his face making him cheese.

"I love you too boo,"

"Alr boo, c'mon or we'll be late." Lani mumbles sliding her hand into Andre's walking them towards Sikowitz's class.

As Lani and Dre were walking in the class room, Andre wrapped his hand around Lani's neck before tonguing the poor girl down.

If you listened closely you could hear Mel let out a loud, 'Ouuuuuu they fucking' in the background, causing Lani to blush while as Andre smirks pecking her lips one last time before letting her go.

"Twinnnnn!" Mel and Lani dragged walking up to each other before stopping to twerk, before either boyfriend could snatch them up they hurriedly ran into each others arms rocking each other from side to side.

"How-?" before they could continue SIkowitz barged in tell everyone to take a seat after giving the twins a hug since SIkowitz and their father were bestfriends, so they considered him their uncle.

Mel went to go sit beside Beck who wrapped an arm around her shoulder, while as Lani went to go sit beside Andre who immediately wrapp his arm around her shoulder.

Both boys nodding at each other as they kiss their girlfriends head.

#victorious

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hettiesworld · 4 years

Text

Fic title: Class Fight

Pairing: Kyle x female reader (The Perfect Score)

Summary plot: The reader is annoyed that her best friend Francesca, is going to steal the SAT results. But she gets into the group as her scores get hacked by an unknown person outside of school. She then gets attracted to Kyle, who is attracted to Anna. Will the reader be with Kyle?

Based on the song: Class Fight by Melanie Martinez

Author’s note: This is part of @jtargaryen18’s 30 Days of Chris challenge. This is, in fact, my second entry into this challenge and I just watched The Perfect Score. Also, Kyle is SO adorable in this movie!

Warning(s): Strong language and fluff.

Kyle’s POV:

“Do you even know what SAT stands for?” I proclaimed to Matty during the pep rally.

“Suck ass test?”

I sighed and explained, “Scholastic Aptitude Test. Then they got rid of that altogether. You know what it stands for now?”

“Humph.”

“SAT.”

“What?”

“SAT stands for SAT. That’s it.”

“That’s fucked up.” Matty complained.

----------------------------------

So... Francesca decided to join me and Matty into stealing their SATs with Roy, who is the local stoner in the school. Calls himself the ghost. He thinks any problem can be fixed by smoking marijuana and that any activity is more enjoyable while stoned.

This is what he said when he introduced himself to us. “I'm the ghost, man. I hear things, and I see things. But no one hears or sees me.”

How did he get into this group exactly?

Then, there is Desmond Rhodes. The school’s star basketball player. Apparently, who needs a score of 900 or better to join the basketball team at St John’s University. And then, there is Anna Ross.

Okay, well I might have had a teeny crush on her. Yes, the second-highest ranked student in the school.

But anyways... Anna had bombed a previous SAT and needs a good score to get into Brown University.

-------------------------

So, we are all in Larry, my brother’s bedroom, coming up with a plan. We were all explaining the reasons for cooperating with each other cause we were all arguing, for some reason.

When I entered the room, I saw the most astonishing girl I ever met... There was beauty in a good listener (which is what she was good at). Someone who seeks to make connections and joy and see things from new perspectives. She had safe eyes, perhaps that's the best way to say it. Age can't touch that kind of beauty, it's just there.

Her name was Y/n.

“I'm here cuz the SAT is racist.” Desmond fumed, snapping me out of my train of thought. I like trains.

“Well, that didn't take long, did it?” Matty replied. I rolled my eyes, but Francesca didn’t roll her eyes. Does she like Matty?

“What, you don't think so? Who made the test? Rich white guys. Who scored the highest on the test?” To be honest, I think Desmond is right.

Just then, Roy interrupted Desmond.

“Asian chicks. Middle-class Asian girls who watch less than an hour of television a day. They can't drive, but they can kick the shit out of the SAT.”

Yep. He’s stoned.

“Hey Y/n? Why are you here?” Anna said annoyingly to her. Does Anna not like Y/n? What’s not to love?

“My scores got hacked by an unknown person. Also, I am Francesca’s best friend so I gotta be here.”

“Wait, wait, wait... Your scores got hacked?” Matty gasped.

“Yeah. I got an A in my SATs and then the system got hacked and I got a E minus.”

“Well, are you in then Y/n?” I asked her.

“I guess?” She admitted.

------------------------------------------

On the eve of the exam, Francesca arranged for me and Matty to have a meeting near the top floor, staying after closing. The other four, including Y/n, waited outside and watched the night guard until Francesca, me, and Matty had successfully stolen the answers.

The first part of the plan went well, with Francesca, me, and Matty successfully avoiding security cameras (with masks) and the night guard. However, the answers were located on a computer, and only the technical genius Roy (also the stoner, remember that.) can crack the password; he, Desmond, Anna and Y/n got into the building, and Roy correctly guessed the password after seeing a photograph of the employee.

Still, the answers couldn’t be printed, so we decided to take the test with their combined knowledge and get the answers that way. In the early hours of morning, they are finished and have all the answers written down.

All of a sudden, the night guard came up the stairs, and we tried to escape through the ceiling; however, Francesca was left behind!

“Matty! Y/n! Go! I’ll be fine…”

But to my surprise, Matty bravely sacrifices himself in order to save her. We all escaped, but we each faced a certain confrontation before the exam. Matty was then got bailed out by Francesca.

And they kissed.

Don’t worry. They’re really cute together.

Anyways, Anna finds independence from her parents and Desmond's mother convinces Roy to quit drugs (well, not really).

------------------------------

Before the SAT testing began, we all met in an empty hall.

Roy grabbed the answers and distributed them in the bathroom… to other stoners.

He will never change.

Each person eventually gets their desired test score without the answers: my dream of becoming an architect is still alive by attending Syracuse University. Desmond ended up going to St. John's University, Matty became an actor, Francesca wrote a novel (which is about six kids who conspire to steal the answers to the SAT), and Anna decided to travel to Europe for a while before starting college.

I came up to the school entrance, in my brand new red car. I saw Anna and Y/n talking to each other. I’m guessing they’re friends now?

I beeped my horn to get their attention.

Y/n looked behind her to see me. I leaned against my car. She came over to him.

“Where did you get this car?” She pondered, putting her hands in my hoodie pockets, looking at me in awe.

“My brother got it for me.” I chortled, also putting my hands in my pockets.

Immediately, after those words were said, the rain started to pour. Anna got picked up by her dad. Leaving me and Y/n in the rain together.

I put up an umbrella from my car. Then Y/n came under my umbrella.

Unexpectedly, my hand drifted to her hip. It settled there and pulled her closer. She inhaled sharply. She was against my warm chest. She splayed her hand against my flat chest, intending to push me away, for some reason, but instead she left it there. My breathing quickened as did hers. My head was angled slightly to the side as my lips came closer and closer to hers.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked me nervously.

“I want to kiss you.” I replied.

And she let me. She was surprised to find her own lips parted. Their breaths mingled. Her heart fluttered inside her chest. At first, it was a delicate butterfly of a kiss.

It was magic, the way her lips connected with mine. Her mouth was so warm, the caress of her lips softer than I could have imagined and I opened my mouth with a low moan. When we broke apart for air, She rested her forehead against mine and gathered some much needed oxygen. My smirk told her everything and she smiled back, sinking into her hold.

I dropped my umbrella.

---------------------

A/n: This is probably bad but here you go!

@optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @averyrogers83 @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @jtargaryen18 @princess-evans-addict @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @donutloverxo @pegasusdragontiger @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @captain-a-rogerss @kirstie-evans-writes

#30daysofchris2020 #kyle x reader #the perfect score #chris evans #nbarnes #masterlist

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haughtbreaker · 5 years

Link

Gus returns home the morning after the party to find a tense household. Nicole wrestles with the events that had happened the night before.

Special thanks as always to @jaybear1701 for putting up with my shitty punctuation habits. Sorry it took so long for this chapter. There was a con, a bunch of unexpected life stuff and just my brain not willing to cooperate. Yeah I might have been listening to a bit of Death Cab for Cutie while I wrote this, hence the title.

There’s a Spotify playlist for this fic that goes up to whatever the current chapter is if anyone is interested.

TW: Blood and graphic depiction of a suicide attempt

"Where's your sister?" Gus shucked off her coat before she took a seat at the table. She'd only had a few hours of sleep in the room above the bar but it had taken the edge off the exhaustion and given the girls time to clean up. Well, to be honest, it gave Waverly time. Wynonna, as always, was nowhere to be seen.

"Still sleeping." Waverly set a mug of coffee and an empty plate in front of her. "You know how she gets."

Yes, Gus knew exactly how Wynonna could get. Considering the house wasn't in shambles and they weren't in the emergency room, they got off easy. "Well, I suppose she's forgotten she's to have community service today." Gus began to pull pancakes and scrambled eggs onto her plate from the different serving dishes. "Luckily, Randy is hungover." Gus smiled at Rosita who was quietly alternating bites of pancakes, paying attention, and scrolling through her phone. "Enjoy meeting the hooligans of Purgatory?"

Rosita grinned around her fork. "They're not too bad. Strangely comfortable with nudity in the snow, but other than that, not much different than back home."

Gus looked at Waverly in question.

"Go Devils," Waverly said as she sat down with a bowl of fruit and oatmeal.

"Ah, hockey team, got it." Gus unfolded the newspaper she'd brought home and began to skim the articles. There was a sale on her favorite fertilizer and she made a mental note to stop at the hardware store. "Is Nicole still sleeping as well? She's usually up bright and early helping you with breakfast." She looked at Waverly over the top of the newspaper.

Waverly didn't look up from her oatmeal, just shrugged. "I think so. I haven't seen her this morning."

Gus rose an eyebrow. In the past few weeks, Waverly and Nicole had slowly grown to become inseparable. While the changes in Nicole, from her original forlorn state, had been the most obvious, Gus could swear even Waverly had started to look a bit brighter. Not just in the smile she gave everyone, but deep in her eyes - a glimmer that had begun to truly sparkle. What in the world had happened that had made Waverly unwilling to look up?

There was a soft beep from Rosita's phone and she sniffled. "I think Nicole just woke up." She took a long sip from her coffee before pushing back from the table. "I'll go see what she's up to. I'll be right back, cause these pancakes are too good to not finish." She tossed a wink at Waverly.

"Could ya let her know Sheriff Nedley is too hungover and her sentence has been delayed again."

Rosita paused, tilting her head for a moment. "Um… I'm going to need the deets on that but I'll let her know."

Watching Rosita leave, Gus turned her attention back to Waverly who was absentmindedly stabbing at her oatmeal, not really eating it. Her eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything, just gazing off into nothingness. Interesting.

---

Nicole looked down at the familiar desk, worn and comfortable. She could feel the burn in her eyes but she wasn't exactly sure why. The taste of vodka clung to her tongue as she looked around the room. Familiar posters and photos lined the walls, movies and bands she had adored when she'd still had the care to decorate. Hanging from the corner of her closet door, a familiar hoodie drew her attention.

This wasn't Purgatory. She knew that and she knew it was wrong, yet still she felt the comfort of familiarity numbing her curiosity. She was moving before she knew what she was doing, grabbing the hoodie and sliding it on. It was a little snug, not fit for her own frame, but fit for her on another level. The scent of coconut lotion was woven into the threads and she hugged the material to her as she moved back to her desk.

In her hand there was suddenly a photo, she and Shae sitting in the sand together, faces covered in smiles of unknowing. Nicole didn't want to be there anymore. The comfort of familiarity was replaced with the cold of a blade, one of her father's replacement blades for his box cutter. A song played on repeat from her phone, one of Shae's favorites. She looked down at her arms, coconut-scented sleeves already pushed up past her elbows, not wanting to get the material wet as vodka suddenly pooled on the desk from the bottle she didn't remember tipping over.

The movies had been wrong, she thought, as the spilled vodka began to turn red. They hadn't prepared her for the way flesh parted. There weren't neat lines that slowly seeped crimson, but rather layers of muscle that seemed to spill out once free from their flesh casing. The movies hadn't told her how she didn't have the grip strength to go as deep or far with the second cut. She felt the warm touch of another hand covering her own, a familiar presence giving her the strength she needed to keep cutting.

Over the sound of the song playing on repeat and the percussion of her father suddenly banging on the door, she heard the voice in her ear.

"Follow me."

Nicole jerked awake, gasping in pain as she looked down at her arms. Familiar scars greeted her, dark red lines with their train tracks of stitch marks. A familiar pain pulsed through her arms and she winced, taking a moment to breathe in and out. It had been a while since she felt the pain in her arms like this. Physical therapy had helped with it the most, but she hadn't been since getting to Purgatory. Maybe that was stupid.

Experimentally, she opened and closed her hands, feeling the tug from within that hadn't existed a year ago. They'd told her she was lucky there hadn't been extensive nerve damage, that she still had a grip at all.

That she was still alive.

That she had her whole life to look forward to.

With a soft sigh, she looked around the room, noticing Rosita wasn't anywhere to be seen. Her phone told her it was past nine, later than she normally woke up. She was usually downstairs by now, helping Waverly with breakfast.

Suddenly, as if someone flipped a switch, all the memories from the night came back to her. She remembered the drinking and that stupid game. She remembered kissing Wynonna. She remembered the jealousy that had flared up when Rosita kissed Waverly.

She remembered the barn - the bite of cold being chased away by the caress of soft lips, the warmth of fingertips against her cheek.

Oh God, Nicole thought, laying back and pulling the covers over her head. What the hell had she done? She paused for a moment. What the hell did Waverly do?

Pushing back the blankets, she looked for her phone before pulling it back to her, quickly pulling up her IMs.

I need you.

Nicole hit the send button before pulling up her social media. No weird photos. No idiotic, drunken posts. It was a small comfort in the whirlwind of emotions that were rolling through her. Of course, she hadn't been that drunk. Why the hell was she even checking? She knew there was no point, but still she scrolled through, pausing to like a photo Rosita had posted of the bottle from the night before, tagged #drama. That was the damn truth.

She remembered everything.

Everything.

Her fingertips came up to trace her lips, once again remembering the soft caress before she pulled her hand back, her eyes falling to the scar on her forearm. "Fuck." The word slipped from her lips just a second before a body fell onto the bed with her. "Shit!" She gasped as the blanket was pulled back.

"You're finally up." Rosita wiggled into a more comfortable position.

"Rosie…"

"Oh hey, Gus said to tell you something about the Sheriff wants to delay your sentence again… due to a hangover?" Rosita gave her a questioning look.

"Oh, great… I completely forgot about that."

"Sentence?" Rosita poked at Nicole's side. "What the shit is that about?"

"Wynonna," Nicole responded as if it explained everything. When she got no response, she looked over at rubbed at her eyes. "She got us arrested for drinking in public and we have to do some shit community service."

Rosita hummed positively. "Such a rebel. You were never arrested back home."

Nicole sighed heavily. "Did you bring me any water?"

"Did you ask for water?" Rosita snorted and picked up a glass and a bottle of aspirin. "I brought it up earlier."

"God, I fucking love you." Nicole sat up before accepting both. The world spun slightly but she powered through it, gulping down the water.

"Don't forget your other pills."

Nicole nodded, grabbing her backpack and hauling it onto her lap. "Can't forget those." She went through the process of shaking out the collection of pills. "Can't… forget… these." The remnants of her dream still tugged at her mind even as she swallowed the handful of medication, false sanity that left a bitter taste on her tongue.

"Hey. You okay?" Rosita reached up to push a lock of auburn hair behind Nicole's ear. "What's up with that text?"

Nicole cradled the glass in her hands, pursing her lips. "Yeah… sorry, just a little panic from waking up from a bad dream." She'd contemplated bringing up the kiss to Rosita, but the words seemed to stick to her tongue, a hard-to-swallow pill that caused more anxiety than it soothed.

"So it has nothing to do with you and Waverly mysteriously disappearing for a chunk of time last night?"

In the middle of another sip, Nicole nearly choked on the water. "What?"

Rosita shrugged. "I mean, not like anyone else was paying attention or anything but it's pretty suspicious when you suddenly disappear after Waverly kisses me and then she goes after you." Rosita gave her a suspicious look.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Nicole crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

"Uh huh. Sure."

Nicole hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of just coming out and saying it. "Waverly kissed me." The words came out before she could stop them.

"She kissed me too," Rosita joked. "She's actually really great at it." She paused for a moment, turning to look at Nicole closer. As if sensing Nicole's discomfort, Rosita pursed her lips, folding her legs under her. "But I'm guessing she didn't kiss you the way she kissed me."

Squirming uncomfortably, Nicole changed positions. "No." She had her legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap.

"Okay so this is a we totally need to talk about it kind of kiss."

Nicole took a deep breath. It was so easy to turn her arms, to see the dark red marks on her skin again - permanent reminders. She curled her hands into fists, turning the scars away, as if she could pretend they weren't there. "I think we both drank too much and we were in the barn with just the two of us…"

Rosita reached over, slipping her hand into Nicole's. "By that, I'm guessing you kissed her back."

"I just… it hasn't even been a year since…" Nicole swallowed audibly, her words stuck in her mouth. It felt wrong to bring up Shae while talking about Waverly, but how could she avoid it? "I mean… I'm feeling so many damn emotions, I don't even know what to do anymore. Everything just keeps piling up and up and it's like I can see it about to tip over but I can't stop it."

"You're allowed to be happy, Nicole."

"I know."

Rosita snorted. "Do you? Because right now you're acting like you're supposed to be punished."

"Maybe I am…" Nicole spoke softly. She couldn't forget about the fight she'd had with Shae, how their last words had been an argument.

How she'd basically put Shae in that car.

Even if she verbally agreed with Rosita, she knew she didn't deserve to be happy. She deserved to be in pain for the rest of her life, loving and missing Shae.

"You're an idiot."

Nicole blinked, her head jerking up in surprise. "What the fuck?"

"You… are… an idiot," Rosita said slower, giving her a no-nonsense look.

"Wow… um… okay."

"Nicole, Sweetie." Rosita reached out and tapped the tip of Nicole's nose and Nicole swatted her hand away. "I love you. Like, I love you so much, but you are such an idiot. But, at least you're pretty."

"Why did I even call you up here?" Nicole exhaled loudly.

"I improve the aesthetics of the room." Rosita grinned. "That and your gay panic."

"It's not gay panic."

"It's the prime definition of gay panic."

"You're the prime definition of gay panic."

"That's mature," Rosita snorted. "Anyway, let's get back to you and Waverly and your gay shenanigans."

Nicole groaned, laying back down and covering her face. "I mean… she's not even gay," she huffed, rubbing her eyes. "She was dating Champ of all people." She made a face at his name.

"Excuse me with your gold star bullshit…" Rosita rolled her eyes. "Maybe she's bisexual… or pansexual… or fluid… not everyone adher's to your black and white gay scale, Miss I was born with a vag in my mouth."

"Shut up!" Nicole sat up just so she could push Rosita back.

Rosita just barely stayed sitting up. "Bitch." There was a moment of silence, both just living in the comfort of their friendship until Rosita eventually moved closer, sitting right next to Nicole. "If you honestly believed Waverly were 100% straight, do you think you'd be sitting here about to hyperventilate right now?"

Nicole knew it was true. There was no way to ignore the way Waverly had pressed against her, the softness of her hand against Nicole's cheek and the hunger in her kiss.

Rosita reached up, tugging on a lock of auburn hair. "Do you honestly think you would have stomped off into the cold, dark, night in a jealous fit if you weren't kind of into her?" A moment of silence passed between them before Rosita captured a tear that slipped down Nicole's cheek. "Hey. Come on. This is a good thing."

Nicole pulled away slightly, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes. "Do you…" She sniffled softly. "Do you think Shae would like Waverly?"

"God no, she'd fucking hate her."

Nicole pulled back in surprise, not expecting that comment. "What?"

"I mean, Waverly is fucking amazing," Rosita quickly spoke up, "but she's like… too perfect and you know how much Shae liked being the center of attention." Pausing for a moment, she pursed her lips before continuing. "I mean, even in the short time I've been here, I can tell that this town pretty much worships the ground that girl walks on, which is really fucking weird."

Nicole shook her head. "She's not perfect. She's flawed, and insecure, and…" Nicole looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. "She's so sad sometimes. She's so good at hiding it from everyone, but I guess maybe takes one to know one." She sniffled. "She's so damn guarded behind that damn smile and wave." Shaking her head, she sighed softly. "I'm such a fucking mess, Rosie."

"And that is totally acceptable." Rosita covered Nicole's hands with her own, stopping her picking fingers. "I miss her too, Nicole. Every day, I think about her." Rosita looked down at their hands, the dark red scars evident as always against Nicole's pale arms. "Sometimes I'll be getting dressed and in my head I'll hear her voice like 'you're not really wearing that top with those pants are you?'" She impersonated Shae's questioning voice.

Nicole had to laugh. "That's good. That's… that's definitely Shae." With a sigh, she adjusted her position, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on one knee. "I miss her, every damn day. I think about her, the good and the bad and how much I still love her." Nicole sniffled. "Waverly has this weird ability to… I don't know… calm shit." She took a deep breath, feeling her emotions settling even just thinking about Waverly's presence. "When she's around it's like the storm calms down, or rather makes way for a completely different storm… a storm I want to be in."

"That… is some deep shit." Rosita rolled her eyes. "Now, can we go downstairs so I can finish my breakfast?" She huffed. "Waverly is acting all skittish and the only other person down there is Gus. I need you to keep me company, at least until Wynonna wakes up." She gave Nicole a wink.

"Rosie…" Nicole was thoroughly distracted, as she unfolded her frame. "That is such a bad idea."

Rosita had the decency to smirk. "I know, but you know how much I like a bad idea."

----

"Good morning!"

Waverly looked up at Gus's greeting, seeing Nicole following Rosita into the dining room. She immediately got up from her seat to retrieve the coffee to pour Nicole a cup.

"Happy New Year." Nicole smiled at Gus. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I would have here," Gus answered with a chuckle.

Nicole stepped up to Waverly, who was holding a mug in her direction. "Thank you." She offered Waverly a smile and Waverly's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Of course. Have a seat and eat something."

Nicole nodded, taking a seat next to Rosita who had resumed alternating bites of her breakfast and typing into her phone.

"So, what are you lot up to today?" Gus folded up the paper she'd been reading, setting it aside. "Not much is open today. Everyone's nursing a hangover."

"I have a fantastic idea." Wynonna came bounding down the stairs and into the room. "Hey Gus, Baby Girl, Red…" She paused at Rosita, offering her a wink, "Hottie." She looked at Waverly whose eyebrows shot up to nearly her hairline. "We got some fresh snow last night. We should head out to Nakiska, show these Californians a good time."

"Naked kissing what?" Rosita perked up.

Nicole coughed loudly, nearly choking on a mouthful of eggs.

"Nakiska," Waverly corrected. "Wynonna wants to go snowboarding." She pursed her lips, thinking over the idea. "That could be fun. Did you want to drag the boys along?"

Wynonna snorted, dropping down next to Waverly and grabbing a pancake and beginning to pour syrup over it. "They wish. How about just us? Just a bunch of gals… being pals?" She looked at Rosita and licked a bit of syrup off her fingertip with a wink.

"Oh boy." Nicole focused on her own plate.

"We don't have to… if you don't want." Waverly smiled softly.

"No. It sounds like fun." Nicole nodded. "I've been wondering how different it is from surfing."

"Well I definitely can't tell you that." Waverly laughed, a sound that made Nicole smile wider. "Not a lot of ocean around here."

"Yeah. I've noticed." Nicole chuckled. "I don't know if we have any snowboarding worthy stuff."

"No worries. We've got a bunch of stuff. I'm sure we can find something to fit," Waverly added, looking at Wynonna.

"Yeah. I'm sure we can find something warm you can slip into."

Gus looked around the table and sighed heavily.

#wayhaught #wynonna earp #pmm #tw: suicide #tw: blood

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lokilickedme · 6 years

Note

Hello My Lady! Just because you asked, here are my faves of yours: #1 King (no surprise here), #2 Jack (too crazy not to love, and the stream crossing of pretty much all your stories is genius) #3 Chem/BD/TTW/TKH/TWK/can't remember them all. They're all special in their own way! Can't believe it'll be 3yrs soon since I started squatting your page!!! God time goes by fast! I'd like to add a special mention for the Muse Meetings, sooo funny, and a Golden Snowflake to Aleks. Cute little bumkin.

Thank you @fudgemuffinanon! Dear god, has it been that long? Seems like I joined up last year…*sits here blinking at my posts from 2015, wondering how that happened*

**LONG TEXT POST COMING UP**

You drew the lucky straw today my darling, I’m feeling wordy and in the mood to share. A lot of people have asked me over the last couple of years how some of my stuff came about, and you mentioned one that gets a lot of asks.

Lemme tell you something about the Muse Meetings. Way back in 1998 when I got my first computer, one of the very first things I ran across by way of internet fanfiction was a little something called The Very Secret Diaries penned by a writer named Cassandra Claire (who is now professionally published under the name Cassandra Clare). The Very Secret Diaries (which are hilarious, btw) woke something up in me - mainly because, as a lifelong writer who had never allowed anyone to read 95% of my work, I finally realized that yeah, there were other people out there whose brains deviated from the standard in the same way mine did. Her writing style back then (in the Diaries specifically, I’ve never actually read anything else she’s written) was very similar to the way I wrote, and those Diaries were exactly the sort of silly, ridiculous, irreverent thing I’d scribbled in my notebooks for most of my life. And people liked it, she had a huge following based on just those out-of-context glimpses of her characters’ personal thoughts. She was writing behind the scenes thoughts of characters, things that would never make it into books, and it was brilliant. That was the kind of stuff I loved to write but had never given myself permission to show anyone. She was showing hers to people, and they were loving it.

Which gave me the inspiration to not only put my work out there in the public eye for the first time ever, but to stick with my personal writing style (which I’d always assumed wasn’t what other people wanted to read, based on the books I’d been exposed to most of my life). Not change anything. Just do me. And doing me meant writing silly nonsense if I wanted to.

So - The Very Secret Diaries are more or less the inspiration for the Muse Meetings, or at least the official written version of them. I’d always imagined dialogues with my characters outside the confines of whatever story I was working on, but never thought anyone else would be interested in seeing me write it out.

The Diaries made me realize different. Not only were her characters yammering and complaining and snarking at each other (both out of character and in), they were doing it in exactly the way I’d imagined my own characters interacting in the real world. I loved it. Seeing someone else do what I’d always done in my head - and do it in an official, out-there-in-the-public-eye capacity, was a revelation. Finally I was able to give myself permission to write the way I wanted to, without restricting myself to the styles and methods in the books in the family library. It had always been in my head, but now it didn’t have to stay there. I could write proper stories, but I could also write what was going on in the other room, where the reader seldom gets to peek. And other people besides myself might like it because hey, there’s precedent.

That was freeing, and I am grateful to Ms Claire for that.

So, a little history that leads up to how and why I finally started writing out the Muse Meetings:

My first fandoms that I wrote for online were Harry Potter and Star Wars (Kenobi specifically). And yes, way back then (late 90′s - early 2000′s) there were already muse meetings among my characters. I’ve been doing these for a long time, and I wish the out-of-character stuff I’d written back then still existed (my HP stuff bit the dust when The Restricted Section shut down, and my SW stuff was on FF.net for a little while but honestly I don’t remember my user ID there or the titles of the fics, though I have searched…so they’re most likely lost as well). It’s sort of a shame because there were some old Anakin/Obi-Wan muse meetings that you guys would have loved…and the stuff between Remus and Sirius while we were hashing out what was going to be in their next chapter? It still pains me that it’s all lost, but maybe it’s for the best. That was nearly two decades ago, we move on to bigger and (hopefully) better things.

After my urge to write HP fic fizzled out I stopped writing for a while, but there were always muse meetings going on in my head for stories I scribbled mentally. To me they’ve always been more fun than the actual stories, which explains my love for gag reels and behind-the-scenes featurettes for movies (I watch those first, always).

And then I found AO3 - funnily enough, I discovered it while searching the internet for one of my lost HP fics - and I decided to start writing in earnest again. With all those thousands and thousands of fics and endless fandoms, it seemed like the perfect place to indulge my need to share what went on in my head. And as I settled into the MCU and my stories started to grow to include multitudes of characters, those impromptu staff meetings with my muses kept being called to order. Stuff that my characters would never say in the context of their stories got said. Scenarios that were too ridiculous to waste time writing were played out. Arguments and fights and bantering between characters who, in the restrictive confines of their own tales, would never in a million years interact…now they were throwing poptarts at each other (and occasionally knives) while the side characters wandered out of the room to watch TV or raid the fridge or sat in horror as someone’s until-now unassuming wife brandished a melon baller as a weapon.

It was messy and fun and was by far my favorite part of the writing process.

That’s what eventually became the Muse Meetings. You want to know how they escaped my head and became an official thing?

Well I’m gonna tell ya lol

One of my very first friends in here, the fantastic @elvenfair1, was one of my first readers at AO3 and she told me I should post links to my fics at this site called tumblr to bring in a bigger audience. So I opened an account here, followed her, posted some links as suggested, and she and I began messaging back and forth pretty much every night as we wrote our respective fics, bouncing ideas off each other and discussing plot points and brainstorming for character names. And as my characters sassed me and refused to cooperate with what I wanted them to do, I would tell elvenfair what was going on in my head with my dumbass OCs and OFCs and we’d laugh and gripe about trying unsuccessfully to reel in our unruly muses.

And then one night back in 2015 she said “You should post this muse stuff, it’s hilarious.”

You know what the first thing I thought was? Cassandra Claire did it 14 years ago and people loved it. So yeah, I can sure as hell do it if I want. If nobody is interested in it, at least it’ll amuse me and elvenfair and that’s cool enough.

And so I did. I started posting them in here first, then as people started requesting them more I eventually moved them to AO3 in a more structured format. And now you guys have multiple Lokis hurling curses at a bartender and viciously baiting a hapless movie star while teenage versions of two other attendees flirt with unsuspecting OFCs, with an occasional appearance by Thor dropping hints about future chapters and looking for fruit roll-ups. It’s messy, but it’s fun and I’ve always enjoyed writing it as a way to let my brain decompress, especially when one of my “real” stories has hit a roadbump.

Since then I’ve seen countless other professional writers doing the exact same thing - J.R. Ward even posts her own version of muse meetings on her official website AND has a published book (her Insiders Guide) that is almost entirely nothing BUT muse meetings. It’s surprising how many writers actually do this and I sometimes wonder if authors like Poe, Steinbeck, Vonnegut, Tolkien, Gaiman, McMurtry didn’t do it themselves (I’d bet money on McMurtry). Just goes to show there’s not an original idea anywhere in the universe…no matter how much you might believe you came up with it first, someone out there has been doing it for a long damn time before you - and a million more will do it after you :)

Anyway, I haven’t written any muse meetings in a while but they still go on constantly in my head. I get asked about once a week to go back to doing them, and one day I will, when I have time for it. My actual fics are struggling for writing time as it is and I made a conscious decision to weed out the unnecessary stuff in favor of “real work” (yeah right lol)…but yeah, the Meetings are still one of my favorite things and I won’t stop doing them permanently - they’ll be back.

So thank you Cassandra Claire for inspiring me to let them fly…if it weren’t for those whacked-out Diaries, the Muse Meetings would all still be in my head with only one person (me) laughing at them.

#fudgemuffinanon #long post #it's been a while since I got to talk to an adult IRL due to the kids being sick #so here have all the words at once lol

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juggieheadcoopers-blog · 7 years

Note

Hi!! I've spent the last few hours just reading your work and omg I love the way you interpret the prompts! You're making the long hiatus so much better already and I can't wait to read more! I have a prompt request as well: friends with benefits to realizing they like each other (with some angst added in!) thank you!!! :)

First of all thank you so much, that’s so sweet of you! Second of all, here it is! This is more playful than angsty but I still hope it’s okay!

AU: Jughead never went to Riverdale High and never became friends with Betty and the gang the way they were supposed to. Archie, Jughead, and Betty were close in middle school, but once they parted ways and Jughead followed in his father’s footsteps of becoming a Serpent, their relationship was never the same.

–

Betty brushed past Cheryl Blossom as she hurried her way down the freshly-mowed lawn of Riverdale High’s courtyard, nearly snagging her baby blue sweater on one of Cheryl’s particularly sharp insect brooches as their shoulders slammed into one another.

“B, where the hell have you been?” Veronica called to her from their usual picnic table at the end of the quad, her prized set of pearls shining elegantly in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

Ignoring the icy glare that Cheryl tossed in her direction, Betty maneuvered her way through the crowd of chatting classmates to slip her way onto the bench of the picnic table next to Kevin, just as Veronica turned to narrow her eyes at Betty. “I’ve had to listen to Cheryl’s incessant ramblings regarding the subpar quality of her brand new Louboutins for the past half hour and trust me, when I reach the point of boredom beyond repair talking about designer shoes, you know there’s a problem.”

“Sorry, something came up,” Betty mumbled, shrugging off her pale pink backpack and placing it on the wooden surface in front of her.

“There have been a lot of things ‘coming up’ lately,” Veronica pointed out. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say our little, not-so-innocent Elizabeth Cooper has a man in her life she’s been hiding from us.”

“Yeah, right,” Betty scoffed, unzipping her bag and rummaging through its contents to find the salt and vinegar chips she didn’t eat at lunch. “You know how terrible I am at keeping secrets. Remember your surprise birthday party last year?”

“How could I forget? You asked me to come over to help you with an English paper,” Veronica recounted the event in question, shaking her head in shame at Betty’s failed attempt at such a classic form of surprise. “The day Betty Cooper asks Veronica Lodge for homework advice, you know there has to be something else going on.”

Betty’s lips curled into a slight smile, her expression distant as she reached into the bag of chips and popped one into her mouth, repeating this process for several minutes without blinking or acknowledging that there were other people sitting at the table with her.

“Kind of like now,” Veronica mumbled, waving a perfectly manicured set of nails in front of her in an attempt to snap her out of the trance she had fallen into. “Look at her face, Kev. There’s something wrong with it.”

“You’re right, V,” Kevin concurred, leaning in close and tilting Betty’s chin towards him with a flick of his thumb. “There’s an actual smile on it. Hell must have frozen over.”

“Hey, I smile!” Betty defended herself, her too-tight ponytail nearly smacking Kevin in the face as she whirled around to look from Veronica, to Kevin, and back again.

“Not since Polly-” Kevin started to explain, but before he could get the words out, Veronica lunged across the table to place a hand over his mouth, nearly knocking various textbooks and papers onto the grass in the process.

“Shhh!” Veronica quieted him. “Kevin, we agreed that bringing up such events should be handled as if one were at Hogwarts and in the position of saying the name Voldemort - you just don’t do it!”

“Sorry,” Kevin shrank back onto his spot on the bench. “Let me rephrase. You’ve been a little down the past few months, but lately-”

“You’re happier than Kevin during a Brad Pitt movie marathon,” Veronica finished for him, her eyes dancing wildly as she leaned in to point a finger in Betty’s direction. “And that can only mean one thing.”

“Betty Cooper: number one in her class, editor of the Blue and Gold and all around girl next door, is getting a little ‘Fifty Shades of Freaky’ with one of Riverdale High’s finest young bachelors,” Kevin concluded, his arms crossing in front of his chest as if he were proud of himself for solving such a complicated riddle.

“I am not!” Betty protested. “You two have way too much time on your hands if you’re speculating why I’ve been smiling more lately.”

“What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t notice such things,” Kevin pointed out, his gaze suddenly leaving his friends to focus on the parking lot in front of them. “Kind of like how I’ve noticed Jughead Jones’ massive biceps lately, holy hot and bothered Rolling Stone-meets-Abercrombie you can actually see them bulging through that leather jacket.”

The boy in question stepped out of his midnight-black 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner, his dark hair falling effortlessly over his eyes as he moved to shut the driver’s side door.

“Joining the Southside Serpents has really sat well with his upper body muscles,” Veronica admired, her mouth hanging open slightly as he pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his jacket pocket like he was plucked straight out a scene from the Outsiders. “Too bad he doesn’t go here anymore, I would love to run my hands up and down those-”

“Veronica!” Betty’s eyes went wide as she turned to glare at her friend, whose mouth was practically watering as she took in Jughead leaning against the classic car and taking a drag from his cigarette like she was watching the most sensual thing she had ever laid eyes on. “Last time I checked you still have a boyfriend, or have you forgotten about our good pal Archie Andrews. You know, captain of the football team, lead singer of his very own rock band, Riverdale High honor student. Ring any bells?”

“Oh please, I’m allowed to window shop as long as I resist throwing anything into my basket,” Veronica muttered, picking up her copy of The Sun Also Rises and fanning herself with it, even though it was a perfectly cool fall afternoon that didn’t even come close to meriting such actions.

“That’s wrong on so many levels,” Betty mumbled, pushing her half-eaten bag of chips away from her and wiping her greasy fingers down the front of her sweater.

“What’s Jughead doing here anyway?” Kevin wondered. “I thought he and Archie stopped talking once he moved schools a few years ago.”

“He’s here to see me actually,” Betty admitted, turning in her spot on the bench to look at Jughead for the first time since he had pulled into the parking lot. “He was the best writer we had at the the junior newspaper in middle school and no one’s ever come close to filling his shoes, so he’s helping me out a few times a week after school at the Blue and Gold.”

“You sure he’s not helping you out with a few other things too?” Veronica wiggled her eyebrows at Betty suggestively, her lips creeping up into an amused smile as Betty narrowed her eyes at her.

“Just friends, Veronica,” Betty assured her. “Jughead isn’t Archie’s favorite person right now and after everything that’s happened with their fathers - I just - I wouldn’t do that to him, okay?”

“Whatever you say, B,” Veronica shrugged, still looking unconvinced as she reached underneath the table to retrieve her cheer bag. “Okay, I have to go find Cheryl before River Vixens practice so I can warn her that the choreography she’s been throwing at us is too 90′s cheer routine and not enough Beyonce video like we were going for.”

“Yeah, and I have to go witness the bloodbath of bitchy, yet impressively clever insults that is sure to occur as a result so we’ll see you later, Betty,” Kevin followed Veronica’s lead as she made her way away from the picnic table, the giddiness in his expression made even more evident by the enthused squeal escaping his lips as he bent down to pick up his backpack.

“Bye, guys,” Betty called out to them, shaking her head in amusement as she watched them round the corner to head back into the school.

Betty kept her gaze focused on the chemistry textbook resting open in front of her as she saw the movement coming from the parking lot out of the corner of her eye. Jughead had pushed off his car and was slowly making his way onto the sidewalk leading up to the courtyard. Her breath caught in her throat as he took a step closer. And another. And an-

“And then there was one,” Jughead announced, his leather-clad sleeve brushing the soft fabric of her sweater as he slid his way onto the picnic table next to her. “What’s it like without chatter mouth one and two attached to your hip?”

“I don’t know,” Betty sat up straight, turning slightly on the bench to quirk a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “What’s it like without your manhood to back up that newfound edginess that drives all the girls crazy? Wanna find out?”

“Betty Cooper,”Jughead beamed, one leg tucking underneath itself so that he could turn his body to face hers completely. “Throwing the banter back at me like we’re in a 1940′s black and white screwball comedy. I like it.”

“You’re early,” Betty noticed, her eyes focusing back on the periodic table displayed on the inside cover of the chemistry book.

“I ditched the last two periods,” Jughead shrugged nonchalantly, scooping up the abandoned bag of chips on the table and tossing back a handful into his mouth. “I figured that I’ve already learned as much as I needed to know about 17th Century England and the Taming of the Shrew to pass with at least a C in both history and English and still function in the real world like an adequately intelligent human being so why not skip out early and come see you?”

Jughead crumpled up the now-empty chip bag and tossed it behind him, missing the trashcan completely as he looked back to watch it roll onto the grass. Leaning in close, Jughead rubbed a hand on her knee resting underneath the table, his breath tickling the exposed skin of her neck and nearly causing a thrilled giggle to escape her lips.

“Jug,” Betty warned, reaching down to remove the hand slowly creeping its way up her thigh and turning to give him a leveled glare. “We agreed, remember?”

“You agreed,” Jughead corrected. “I said friends with benefits was a dated form of emotional torture that benefits neither party in any meaningful way.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Betty reminded him. “To not get attached in a way that lets you mean something to the other person?”

“I think that ship has sailed,” Jughead admitted, his eyes flicking to hers with a vulnerable state of truth-turned-worry when he realized that she might night have felt the same way. “At least on my part anyways.”

“You know that we can’t be anything more than what we are,” Betty explained. “At least not right now.”

“Because Archie blames me for my father’s involvement in his father’s shooting and he would love nothing more than to see me strung up on the mantle of his nice and cozy family-sized home,” Jughead recalled, his eyes rolling backwards dramatically sliding his leg back underneath the table and facing the empty set of picnic tables across the courtyard. “Yeah, you said that when we first started - whatever you want to call this. Doesn’t mean I understand it. And it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Juggie,” Betty whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and caress his cheek affectionately the way she had grown accustomed to since they had started their relationship nearly eight weeks before.

“You know how I feel about you, Betty,” Jughead told her, his eyes softening slightly as his head turned to smile weakly down at her lips. “And I think that if you were being completely honest with yourself, you know exactly how you feel about me too.”

Betty knew he was right. She knew that she felt more than just lust, coupled with the added bonus of orchestrating their clandestine meetings, for the boy from the Southside who was more than just his leather jacket and tough demeanor. But she couldn’t risk her friendship with either boy in her life by making things official. Not yet.

“This is the way things have to be right now,” Betty sighed. “At least until Mr. Andrews gets out the hospital and everything just - settles down. Please, Jughead. I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t want to lose him either.”

Betty held Jughead’s gaze, her bottom lip jutting out slightly as her teeth automatically reached out to bite down on the tender skin there, a habit she had formed around the time she had started seeing Jughead in a little-more-than-just-friends kind of way.

“God, why do you have to do that thing with your bottom lip,” Jughead mumbled, his eyes flicking down to her pink lips with a fleck of longing in his gaze. “You know that drives me insane.”

“I know,” Betty beamed, her eyebrow quirking flirtatiously up in his direction. “Why do you think I do it so often?”

“Okay, if we’re still playing by these ridiculous rules you’ve set in place then we better get to the Blue and Gold room because I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to kiss you,” Jughead breathed, his heart beating wildly as Betty’s leg brushed against his, making his palms sweat in the best way possible. “Now.”

“Then what are we waiting for,” Betty leaned in close to Jughead as if she were going to meet her lips to his, but swung her legs out from underneath the picnic table at the last second and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Race you.”

“You’re on.” Jughead grabbed Betty’s bag off the table and sprinted after her, not even noticing that there had been a figure lurking in the shadows who had witnessed their intimate exchange with a devious smile plastered on her flaming red lips. Turning on her less-than-adequate Louboutin heel, Cheryl let her waist-length red hair swing playfully behind her as she sauntered her way to cheer practice, already scheming and plotting how she was going to use this juicy new development to her advantage.

#bughead fanfiction #bughead #betty and jughead fanfiction #betty and jughead #juggiecoopfanfic #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale fanfiction #requests

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imagines-never-die · 7 years

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Mcree, Zenyatta and (efi if you're down) meeting a centaurian woman, she got stuck in a trap and they come to save her but she's very mistrustful of their intentions because they could be the one who set up the trap and hurt their leg. She tries to run but can't get far because of her injury and denies any help until they grow to trust the person, it takes a while but soon she becomes softer and caring towards them, let them ride on her back if need be and stomp on any bad guys.

(Sure, I’m down with writing Efi! She’s cool.)

McCree

Jesse heard the sounds of something scraping against the coarse sand.It was right behind that abandoned shed, right beyond the rim oftrees that started the forest. He knew he was a bit off course, butif you knew McCree, you should expect it. His curiosity knew nobounds, and this was a great example of it.

He had his gun out, held to the side of his body, his arm relaxed. Heapproached the shed quietly, then turned the corner.

The gunslinger could barely believe his eyes. It was an actual livecentaur, on the ground and squirming. As he looked further, from hisawe he noticed that the creature’s back leg was stuck in a hunter’sbear trap. It was rusty and worn, probably forgotten into the forestfor years.

Jesse lowered his gun and took a step closer, and that’s when thecentaur noticed him. She whined in a startled manner and forcefullytried to crawl away from the cowboy, only to tear the wound on herleg further.

“Whoa, whoa! Hold on, pumpkin! You’ll hurt yourself more likethat,” Jesse warned, to no effect. She was still scared, butcould crawl no further without tearing her own leg apart. A noise ofpain left her lips as McCree took another cautious step closer. “Now,I ain’t gonna hurt ya, so don’t you hurt me either.”

She stilled when Jesse was so close he could touch her. She coveredher eyes with her palms and continued sobbing like she had beforethat man had appeared. The pain in her leg was nothing compared tothe fear of death she was currently experiencing.

The cowboy glanced up at the centaur’s face, the sympathy nearlymaking his own leg ache. He quickly turned back to the bear trap andgroaned in frustration, knowing it’d be a pain to try and get it off.He’d only seen these things in old movies, so he didn’t know how tooperate it. It was not in mint condition, though, so maybe if hecould get something between it…

He stood straight and looked around under the shadow of his hat.There were a bunch of trees around; A sturdy branch would do. Hequickly pulled out Peacekeeper, startling the centaur and making herstare, her eyes still filled with tears. With a few practised pressesof the trigger a fresh branch from one of the trees fell down. Thegun was loud, and the centauress had covered her ears.

Jesse sheathed his gun and went to pick up the branch, lifting it upand accidentally hitting himself in the face with some of the leaves.He groaned, annoyed, and went to slip the branch between the trap,right next to the centaur’s wounded leg.

“Okay, when ya feel the trap loosin’ up, pull out yer leg,alright?” he said to her, and after a moment, she gave ahesitant nod. He nodded back to let her know he would try it now,then started pushing up the end of the branch on his side while hisfoot kept the trap down. The trap was hard to open, like he’dexpected, and he had to use a lot of strenght. A slight groan lefthis lips, but soon enough the trap seemed to give in.

The centaur pulled her leg away as soon as it came loose. Stillafraid, she got to her feet and tried to run away, only to trip onher feet and fall down again. Jesse let go of the branch and let thetrap catch it. Its teeth got buried deep, and it caused both of themto stare for half a second.

“You know, I don’t think yer gonna be able to run away in yercondition. Besides, I’m not tryin’ to hurt ya, you should know thatby now,” McCree said as he approached the creature again. Shesighed, staring at the ground, seemingly weighing her options. “Howabout ya tell me yer name, for starters – mine’s Jesse McCree.”

Eventually, the centauress gave in and spoke.

“It’s [Name]… And… Thank you for helping me,” she saidcautiously. Jesse managed a smile at the response, then brought hishand to the comlink in his ear.

“Base, you there? I got a little sidetracked…”

It took a bit of convincing for some of the members of the reformedOverwatch, but eventually he got the backup he’d requested. They gota ride to his location, and even though [Name] seemed reluctant tocooperate, they managed to get her into the plane. Mercy was waitingfor her in the plane, but she found she could not even get close tothe centaur without sedating her, and it was not good to do such athing while in the air. She’d have to wait until they got back tobase, even if she was worried the wound would get infected.

It was many hours later that Mercy had finally managed to patch herup. [Name] was still asleep from the drugs she’d been given, butthere was really nothing else to do. She was far too agressive towardstrangers, and even having Jesse in the room had not helped.

The cowboy was leaned against the wall outside the small medbay (itwas all they had at the moment), waiting for good news. Angelastepped out of the room, and as soon as he laid eyes on Jesse, shelooked stunned.

“Jesse McCree, were you just about to light a cigaretteindoors?!” she nagged right away, and McCree was quick to putaway the cigarillo and lighter, startled by the reaction.

“Er, not more than one?” he defended weakly, and Angelashook her head in disapproval.

“Those things are bad for your health, anyway,” shecontinued in the same tone, though a bit calmer. Jesse grinned.

“That’s what ya keep tellin’ me,” he responded andshrugged, then decided it was best to change the topic. “How’s[Name]?”

“Lucky for us, there is no sign of infection. If we use somemore of our resources on her, she should be able to walk in two days.But, as you know, we don’t have a lot to spare at the moment…”she explained softly and leaned against the wall herself. “So itlooks like we’ll have to wait for her to get better naturally. One ofthe bones in her leg was broken, so it will take a while.”

“Well, shoot. ‘Guess we got no choice,” Jesse agreed. “Is'pose we’ll have to make friends with her, too.” Mercy nodded.

“That would be for the best, but she is an agressive case. Well,she’s scared. That’s to be expected,” she said, then stoppedleaning on the wall. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. You?”

“I could go for one, too,” Jesse agreed, and the pair leftthe hallway while conversing casually.

It took a long time, but after seeing McCree and the rest of themembers of Overwatch on a daily basis, [Name] started to warm up tothem. She would start talking to others more freely, and the jokesand smiles followed soon after. At that point it no longer came as asurprise when she asked to stay.

It was her first mission, and some Talon agents had showed up on thescene. They were outnumbered and separated, Jesse and Tracer hidingbehind a knocked over car and [Name] lost somewhere in the area. Itseemed her comlink was broken, since nobody could contact her. Thatwas not their only problem – Jesse had been shot to the thigh byWidowmaker, and he could barely move.

“You should go back to fightin’, Lena. We’ll both get shot if yastay here,” Jesse said for the tenth time or so, and Tracer’sresponse remained the same.

“I’m not leaving you, silly. We’ll figure something out,”she said, though her tone clearly indicated she was starting to getdesperate. She stood up straight to take a peek behind the car, onlyto see some Talon agents approaching them. She dove back down,worried.

“Damn it,” she whispered, and Jesse instantly knew what wasup. “Okay, umm… You stay here. I’ll go distract them.”

“Yer chronal accelerator’s out of charge. ’S too dangerous,”Jesse pointed out in a sharp whisper.

“You can still shoot even if you can’t walk. Watch my back,”Tracer simply responded with a smile on her lips. Jesse wondered howit didn’t falter even a bit. Before he could respond, Lena hadalready hopped over the car and was running into the field.

That was before she came to a full stop right behind the car. Thenoise was great when a full-sized centaur jumped on top of the fiveor so agents and stomped over them, kicking one into the nearest walland grabbing one of their guns in the same go. All the Brit could dowas stare until [Name] approached her with worry in her eyes.

“Jesse?” she asked, and that’s when Lena came to hersenses.

“Behind that car- how, where did you…?” she stuttered,but soon shook her head and smiled widely. “I’m so glad youfound us.” Jesse had crawled out into view, quiet curse wordsleaving his lips.

“You saved us, that’s for sure,” the cowboy agreed with asigh. “Thank you, [Name.]”

“Don’t thank me yet, we still have to get back…” shesaid, then noticed the wound on Jesse’s thigh. “Oh… I have anidea.” She went over and kneeled down, eyes on Jesse while allthe man showed was a confused expression. “Climb on.”

The gunslinger stared for a good while before obliging. He crawledonto [Name]’s back, grunting all the way, even when Lena came tohelp. [Name] stood up and Jesse wavered, unsure where to grab forsupport until [Name] guided his hands around her human torso.

“Can’t say I’ve ever rode a centaur before,” Jesse started,and she only gave a brief glare at him.

“Don’t make it weird, McCree,” she said, and Lena couldn’thelp a giggle. “Tracer, can you get back to the plane on yourown?”

“Yeah. I’m almost charged up,” she told and banged at themachine on her chest once. “See you there, loves.”

With a nod, the centaur galloped away with a cowboy on her back.Since they would have to run for a while, Jesse took it as a chanceto converse alone.

“You know, this reminds me of the time we met,” he told,and [Name] smiled to herself.

“It does. Though the roles have changed,” she responded,earning a chuckle out of Jesse.

“Looks like we’re even then,” he commented playfully.

“Yes, Jesse. We’re even now.”

Zenyatta

It had been a long time since Zenyatta had visited the monastery inNepal. His brothers and sisters had different reactions to him, butwithin a few days he had settled in. He would not stay for long,though, he never did. At least, he did not expect to.

It was surprising to hear two monks converse about a centaur found onthe edge of the omnic village. How or why such a creature had gottenso high up on the mountains, they did not know, but some of theomnics had gone to help it out of a hunter’s trap. Naturally,Zenyatta had gone to ask where exactly this was happening.

It did not take long for him to reach the place they’d pointed himto, and there really was a centaur trapped a few meters in the air, arope tightly around its back leg. Three other omnics were surroundingit, trying to take a hold of the trap only to be chased away by thecentauress’ angered movements.

“Stay away from me!” she shouted, her eyes glossy from theintense fear. Finally one of the omnics managed to get close enoughto the rope to quickly cut it with a sharp knife, and the centaurcame tumbling down onto the snowy ground.

She instantly got up and tried to run away, but tripped and stumbled,soon enough falling back down. It seemed she had hurt herself in thefall. The omnics approached her again, but she took a morethreatening position.

“I told you to stay away!”

At this point, they mostly seemed frustrated. That was beforeZenyatta hovered closer, deciding to offer his help now that hecould.

“We are not hunters, and do not wish you harm,” he said inhis usual mechanical voice, earning everyone’s attention, includingthe centaur’s. “If you let me come closer, I can take a look atyour leg.” The centaur looked doubtful, and she shook her head.

“No. You’re lying. Stay back,” she ordered, and Zenyattaobeyed. He glanced at the others, and they realized to also stay put.The centaur forcefully climbed onto her feet and tried to walk downthe mountain, her right front leg in the air. She had fallen on topof it, and walking was difficult because of the pain and thick layersof snow…

Once again, she did not make it far before stumbling and fallingdown. Curses left her mouth, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks.She stayed like that for a good while, and it started to seem likeshe had no intention to get up again. That’s when Zenyatta hoveredcloser to her, and she barely looked toward him when he leaned downto study her leg.

It was broken, there was no doubt. Even a slight touch earned a hissof pain from her. Zenyatta lifted his gaze to her face.

“If you let us take you to the village, I can tie your leg andease the pain,” he promised softly. She did not respond atfirst, but the omnic was patient. Eventually she gave a slight nod,even if her eyes were elsewhere.

Zenyatta nodded toward the others, and they got close to her. Sheshowed hesitance in letting them touch her, but in due time theymanaged to carry her up the hill.

It was a small room with a fireplace that her and Zenyatta were nowin. She was cold and hungry, but at least her leg was tied now. Theomnic moved one of his orbs above the leg, and it seemed to transmitsome sort of energy into it. She was surprised to find it actuallydidn’t ache as bad afterward.

“How did you do that?” she asked, not hiding her shock.

“There is energy all around us. Within us. All I did wasmanipulate it a little,” Zenyatta explained, though vaguely.“Your leg will heal quickly if you do not put any weight on it.”She decided to stay silently impressed, as she wasn’t sure what toask to get specifics.

“Thank you… For saving me,” she said cautiously. “Idon’t even know your name.”

“You may call me Zenyatta,” he replied in an eased tone andcalled his orb back to the ring around his neck. They rotated slowly,almost hypnotic.

“I’m called [Name],” she introduced herself in return. Itmade her feel a little better, knowing who was taking care of her.“I’m sorry I was hostile. Strangers make me nervous.”

“Do not worry, we have already forgiven you. We understand youwere afraid at the time,” he replied, and [Name] smiled alittle.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve met any kind people,” sheexplained, and Zenyatta only nodded in return. Her stomach made asound due to her growing hunger, and she blushed.

“Ah, right. Omnics do not consume food, so I nearly forgot…”he said and rose up from the floor, still hovering. “I will gofind you something to eat.”

“T-there’s no need!” she tried, but Zenyatta was quick toshoot her down.

“You must rest your leg, [Name]. I assure you, it is notrouble,” he told, and she argued him no further. With a nod ofher head, she allowed the omnic to exit the building.

Zenyatta ended up staying for a week longer than first intended.Within that time, he talked a lot with [Name], even after her leg washealed. An unexpected friendship was formed, and when the time forhim to leave came, she was among the others wishing him goodbye.

“I could come with you. Carry you on my back, help you fight badguys and such,” she half joked, earning a mechanical chuckle outof the omnic.

“It is a kind offer, but you have been held from your familylong enough,” Zenyatta replied, and she knew it was true. Shehad to go her own way, the path she had intended to follow from thebeginning.

“I can’t wait to see them,” she admitted. “I hope tosee you again, too. You’ve been so kind to me all this time.”

“Our paths may yet cross,” Zenyatta said. “But now Imust go. There is a lot I have to do.” With a polite bow of herhead, she had said her goodbyes. She stood there for some time,watching her omnic friend hover into the distance. It was not longafter that she started heading away, too.

[Name] felt a little melancholic, as one always did when sayinggoodbye to a friend. Especially when you knew you might never seethem again.

Efi

She was out scavenging the junkyard for parts that were no longermade. She was covered in dirt from searching for the right kind ofmaterials, and it had definitely been a few hours already. Noresults. Efi sighed and sat down on a rusty car carcase. No lucktoday.

She headed out of the junkyard, sneaking through a hole in the metalfence. No guards were nearby, they never really were around thispart. The forest it lead to was too dense for their comfort.

Efi only had to make it through a small part of the forest before sheheard strange noises amongst the trees. It sounded like whines… Wassomeone in trouble? Being an overly helpful person, she had to go andcheck it out.

She stopped behind one of the trees and carefully peeked out to seewhat the noise was. Her eyes widened when she saw a centaur trappedinside a net in the air. It was an energy net, glowing blue. And itwas beeping, calling out to the hunter that owned it. Efi stepped outfrom behind the tree, approaching her centaur, a lot less scared now.

The centauress, though, showed immediate fear and started strugglingwhen she noticed Efi.

“Hold on, I’ll get you out of that,” Efi promised, not toothreatened by the panicked movements of the centaur. And it seemedthat soon enough it stilled, probably realizing the hunter mostlikely wouldn’t be a child.

Efi climbed up the tree and balanced on the thick branch the trap wasattached to. She sat down on it, legs dangling from each side as sheleaned down to mess with the smallish device that produced the net.She popped the lid open forcefully and studied the wire connections.It was pretty simple which one she would have to break to open thetrap – opening it with a key wasn’t an option since she didn’t haveit – and she pulled it out.

The trap dissipated and the centaur fell down. The branch wavered andEfi took a tight grip on it, worried she might fall. She did end upslipping off, but still held onto it with her hands. She let go anddropped to her feet, the fall only a couple meters and didn’t hurther.

“Are you ok- hey!” she called after the centaur, who hadstumbled up and then tried to run away. She tripped and fell backdown, giving another whine. “Oh, you’re hurt…” Efinoticed. She took a moment to ponder what to do while the centauressstared at her. “Hello, my name is Efi.”

The centaur did not introduce herself, but the young inventor did notmind.

“My home is close by. You could rest in our garage for tonightif you’d like,” she offered and stepped a little closer. Thecentaur weighed her options, then glanced at her legs. They ached,since the net had electrocuted her upon capture.

“Just for tonight,” she then agreed, knowing she could notmake it on her own at the moment, and the hunter might be back soon.A wide smile spread onto Efi’s lips.

“It’s this way,” she said and pointed to a direction, thentook a few steps into it, waiting for the centauress to follow. Shestumbled up, and walked slowly and unsurely. Efi kept her pacematched up to the centaur’s, not wishing for her to strain herself.

“My name is [Name]… Thank you for freeing me,” thecentaur eventually said, and Efi kept smiling.

“That’s a pretty name,” she said in response. The rest ofthe trip was mostly spent in silence.

After twenty minutes of walking Efi’s house showed up on the edge ofthe forest. She went to open the garage door for her guest, and[Name] was hesitant, but eventually entered after the young girl. Sheclosed the garage door and put on the lights, then lead her into thestorage room next to where their car was parked. [Name] just barelyfit through the door.

The room was filled with machines and working stations, tools anddifferent blueprints [Name] couldn’t make the heads or tails of. Shepicked one up, looked at it for a moment and raised her gaze only tosee a robot on the other side of the room that looked similar. It wasnot done, but it reminded her of her kind.

“She is what I’m working on right now,” Efi proudlypresented. “I’m making her out of an old OR15 unit. But she’snot done yet.” [Name] put down the blueprint and went to inspectthe robot a little closer, staring into its lightless eyes. “Sheactually looks a bit like you,” Efi chuckled.

“You’ve built all these things?” the centaur asked insurprise. “But you are just a child.”

“Mm, I am still young. Everyone keeps saying I’ll accomplishgreat things when I get older, but I don’t know… I hope she canhelp a lot of people once she’s done,” she told and sat down onone of the chairs. “I hope you don’t mind sleeping here, withher.”

[Name] shook her head.

“She’ll keep me company,” she said softly and found herselfa place on the floor, then lied down. She really needed the rest, andsleep was already calling to her.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me. But try to not wake up myparents if you can,” Efi said and got up, then headed for thedoor that lead inside. “Sleep well!”

[Name] did. Many hours of the night went by easily, and she dreamt ofpeaceful things. It was way past midnight when something woke her up,though. She looked around the dark room, alerted by that something.She listened for it, then heard it again. Someone was talkingoutside. Then the garage door opened.

She got to her feet, noting that they did not ache as much anymore.Footsteps neared the room she was in, and she braced herself for whatwas to come.

A loud noise in the middle of the night woke up Efi and her parents.She was the first one to rush downstairs, knowing the source of thatnoise. She was instantly worried about [Name].

“[Name]!” she exclaimed as she opened the door, afraid ofwhat she’d see. But, against her expectations, she saw two guys beatup on the ground, and the centauress standing above them.

“These men were trying to steal something of yours,” shetold, and Efi knew what it was right away.

“It’s the OR15 parts. They were auctioned some time ago, andmany people wanted them,” she told back. That was when herparents reached downstairs, and they were shocked to see what wasgoing on.

“Efi, stay back,” her father said as he stepped in front ofhis family, to protect them.

“Wait, dad, [Name] is a friend! She just saved us from beingrobbed,” Efi immediately defended, and her father turned aroundto face her.

“What?” he asked, stunned. Efi nodded in confirmation, andher father turned back to the unfolding scene. “That is…Unexpected.” Efi made her way past him and went up to [Name].

“I’ll go call the police,” her mother stated before exitingthe scene. Efi took one of [Name]’s hands inside her own two andsmiled widely. The centaur looked surprised.

“Thank you! I really need those parts. It was nice of you todefend them,” she told happily. [Name] blushed just a little atthe heartfelt thanks.

“It was nothing,” she then said, flustered. She sighed andkneeled down, putting a hand on Efi’s shoulder. “Thank you forsaving me.” Efi smiled and nodded, then went to hug [Name]. Evenshe cracked a small smile and hesitantly hugged back.

Efi’s father could only watch, confused, and shake his head at whatwas happening.

–Mod Evie

#overwatch imagine #mythical creature event #mccree #jesse mccree #zenyatta #tekhartha zenyatta #efi oladele #tracer #lena oxton #mercy #angela ziegler #orisa

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