#Death kept just reappearing in front of him it was funny. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dumbbitchenergy17 · 4 years ago

Text

Bringer of Chaos

With the reveal of you as the UA traitor, 1-A and the Pro Heroes now have to face the war coming to them. By the Bringer of Chaos.

Words- 6.6K

UA!Traitor x MHA, Tomura Shigaraki x Reader (Sibling Relationship)

Warnings: MAJOR Character death, violence, death, Stockholm syndrome, angst, and lots of sadness

A/N: For the readers quirk it’s chaos magic just like Scarlet Witch as well as hero costume. This isn’t a crossover making the reader Scarlet Witch, just that that quirk works for the story and I couldn’t think of any other villain costume. Anyways hope you all enjoy.

Was it fear that she felt.

All their eyes on her.

Heroes think they were in the right but how many people died by their hands. Why say you're a hero if you can’t save them all right?

You had always had a dangerous quirk when you were younger, both your parents were quirkless but when they had you, you had one. Chaos Magic is what they called it the ability to tap into and utilizes the chaotic forces of the universe, capable of warping, manipulating and/or reconstructing reality and probability as well as the very fabric of existence. They had no clue where it came from and from which side of the family passed it down. Two quirkless parents raising a child with a strong quirk, they had no clue what to do.

You were pulled out of school after your quirk had manifested and you made a stuffed animal bear come to life, scaring the class and teacher and forcing you to transform it back to a regular toy. With such a strong quirk your parents were afraid that you could hurt someone when your quirk grew stronger and you were homeschooled for the safety of you but mostly the safety of others.

Society deemed people without quirks useless and not successful, if you had one you better hope it was powerful and flashy or you wouldn’t be going anywhere with your life. When you were younger you looked up to heroes, they saved the day and kept everyone safe from the bad guys. You remembered sitting on the couch with your parents watching the news and seeing the heroes save the day and you would stand up and turn to your parents saying you would become a hero and save everyone. They would smile and tell you if you worked hard enough you would be the next number one hero. With your childhood you were happy everyone was safe, until they weren’t.

The police and heroes said there was nothing they could have done to save them, it was a break-in. They had shown up and slaughtered your parents leaving you there sitting in between their bleeding bodies alone. That was when you knew heroes couldn’t save everyone, the society they live among is corrupt. Heroes looking after popularity votes and looks instead of actually saving lives. Ironically there were others they had similar ideals as you did. You were passed around from foster home to foster home but, no one wanted to deal with a child whose quirk was too dangerous; they didn’t want a villain-like kid.

You were six when you ran away after another foster family sent you back after you had made the dog they had got as a welcoming gift disappear never to return. You kept running until your legs wouldn’t let you move anymore and that’s when he found you.

A portal had opened in the alleyway you had collapsed in and out came a man followed by a boy. The man wore a some sort of ventilator mask that covered the entire of his face and neck, next to him was a boy who had a disembodied hand covering his face. The man never told you his name just holding his hand telling you that you would be able to get revenge on the heroes. You grew to see him as your new father and the boy who told you his name was Tomura as a brother. He was a few years older than you but the time you spent together was when you were meeting father or him watching you train your quirk. Another person in your life when you joined what was now the League of Villains was Kurogiri, father was rarely around so he watched after you and Tomura, he taught you everything you would need to know.

When you joined UA you main goal was to bring down the hero society following after Tomura’s lead, him always reminding you that you would get your revenge. You played your part well not holding back when in fights against villains during the USJ, Kamino Ward, everything fell into place. With talk about the UA traitor within the teachers no one suspected the girl who seemed to have little hold on her quirk, but how wrong they were. All this led to now your former friends looking at you in fear and horror, when it was revealed you were the traitor.

You were completely surrounded by her former teachers standing around you ready to take you down and you kept your gaze on your class.

“Y/n don’t make this harder than it is, please just surrender.” Mr. Aizawa held his scarf in both hands ready to attack if you made any sudden moves.

“And if I don’t? Can you really stop me?” You glance at your teacher and he faltered slightly in his stance.

“You’re completely surrounded by pro heroes, so we can take you down.” Present Mic said making you smirk they have only seen what you showed at progression with your quirk. UA only knows the most you could do is change the integrity of a few objects, nothing on a large scale. They barely gave you time to react with Mr. Aizawa sends his capture weapon towards you to wrap it around you, activating his quirk making his hair rise up and float. The weapon goes straight to you half of it landing on the ground behind you.

You look at him with a bored expression, finding humor in him and the others' shocked expression. “Did you think it would be that easy?” You knelt grabbing the end of his capture weapon and he tries to use it but it doesn’t affect you. “What would a simple cloth feel like if it weighed more than that.” A red haze covers the cloth leading up to his neck and slams into the ground, the weight of the scarf alone slowly starts to suffocate him. Present Mic and Midnight rush to him trying to pry the scarf off him.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Class 1-A yells seeing their teacher struggle. Dropping the scarf from your end you look around at your teachers who know they can’t stop you and your classmates.

“Don’t think this is over,” You hear an explosion and someone running towards you, “You bastard get back here!” Bakugo yells, holding his hand out sending a huge explosion. The smoke clears and there is Bakugo panting out of breath looking around for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. The red haze surrounding Aizawa’s scarf disappears, sending him shooting upwards, throwing it off him as he coughs and wheezes. The 1-A and the Pros look to where you once stood, if that was just some of your power, they had no clue what was in store for them if you came back.

In an abandoned warehouse the league hears footsteps heading towards the room they were in. Each of them ready to fight and kill the intruder, the footsteps getting louder until it was right in front of the room.

“That’s funny thinking your quirks could stop me.” A familiar voice calls out through the door as they open it. You stand in front of them and they relax welcoming you in. Standing away from them was Tomura Shigaraki, he was scratching his neck frantically but stopped when he heard your voice. You walked closer to the man you saw as a mentor, as a brother. You stood next to him as he looked out the warehouse window showing the vast city that was part of Japan.

“Tomura...it’s time.”

With your reveal as the UA traitor the school was put on lockdown immediately once you left in fear you would return but not alone. Your face was plaster across the news worldwide ranking you as national alert. News articles found everything about you with your parent’s death, your disappearance from the orphanage to your life at UA. They speculated that you could be in correlation to the league which made you more of a threat, if you had connections to All for One or Tomura Shigaraki.

“Funny how one moment you were just a UA student, now you’re public enemy number one.” Spinner smirks, tossing you the latest newspaper that talked about you. You smirked as you made the newspaper disappear before it could hit you and reappear behind Spinner hitting him in the back of the head.

“They say the same crap as always, not my fault heroes don’t know how to do their jobs.” You go back to laying on the couch closing your eyes, blocking out the noise of the villains around you. You hear the door open and footsteps bounding towards you jumping on the couch crushing you under their weight.

“Y/nnnnnn I missed you so much when you were gone. It’s boring being the only girl here with Mange gone and you always at UA.” Toga wraps her arms around you squeezing the living life out of you.

“Toga if you don’t let me go, I swear I will turn you into a bug.” You open one eye glaring at her and she sighs getting off you mumbling under her breath.

“How much longer do we have to keep waiting we’ve been in this stupid warehouse for the past week.” Dabi said, kicking a can away from where he was standing.

“Yeah I wanna fight, no let’s relax.” Twice responses, god they were annoying as hell.

You huff sitting up look at them, “When Tomura says he’s ready we’ll go until then shut up and let me rest.”

“And why should we listen to what you have to say, you’re younger than any of us.” Dabi gets up in your face and you clench your jaw waiting for him to do something.

“You should watch what you say next, we know who could win in this fight.” You stand both of you up in each other's face.

“Yeah what are you gonna do about it, huh” He smirks and he goes to speak again but his breath hitches as he grabs his throat.

“What’s the problem Dabi? Have something to say?” He falls to his knees as he tries to breath but is unable to. “You feel that right your lungs are failing on you, do you know how easy it is to kill you right now.” You squat in front of him grabbing his face, your hand covered in a red haze when you use your quirk.

“You made your point Y/n stop it.” Toga grabs your shoulder.

“No, he seems like he has something to say right, Dabi.” Tears fill his eyes as he is practically blue in the face.

“That’s enough Y/n.” Tomura calls out and you stop using your quirk as him and Mr. Compress enter the room. Dabi sucks in air coughing profusely Twice, Toga, and Spinner goes to his aid as he regulates his breath lightheaded from the rush of new oxygen. “You all act like children.” Tomura says walking past you all going to the window looking out to the city.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes sitting back on the couch. “The Nomus are ready, my army is ready.” He turns to look at you all. “You all know what you have to do, so get to it.” He says and they all leave, Dabi walking past you glaring at you with you glaring back. Leaving only the two of you left in the room, you stand next to him as you both look at the calm city that will be thrown into chaos.

“Father would be proud of you Tomura.” You place your hand on his shoulder and he nods.

“You know what to do, you are the biggest piece in the puzzle. You know UA in and out, give them hell.” You nod looking at the man you see as family, the calm before the storm.

“I’ll see you on the other side Tomura.”

The van you were in stopped a few blocks away and you climbed out of it looking back at the villains sitting in it. “Don’t fuck it up Y/n.” Dabi says and you smirk. “You just do your job.” The clothes you were wearing transform into your old school uniform. The league drives away leaving you to walk the rest to UA, they would have no clue what hit them.

With your disappearance UA had been hesitant but continued school as normal, with the dorms they had up campus security and included a strict curfew for the safety of the students. Many students were surprised when they heard that you were the traitor while others found it ironic that someone from 1-A the hero course was actually a villain. 1-A atmosphere had definitely change since the reveal, some were easier at coming to peace that who they thought was their friend was actually a traitor while others still couldn’t believe it. The class seemed dull with you gone. You had put on a convincing performance, actually forming friendships with your classmates some seeing you as family which broke them even more. Midoriya lost some sort of sparkle since you had left, he saw you as one of his closest friends and felt like this seemed like his fault why didn’t he see the signs. Your curiosity for everyone’s quirk specifically his, you seemed to have a love for heroes and he had shown you his notebook with list upon list of everyone with their quirks and their strength and weakness. He let her get exactly what she needed that would affect heroes and the students because he saw her as a friend.

Mr. Aizawa went on about the lesson but Izuku drowned out most of his talking his gaze to the window showing the walkway to the front of the school. Every few minutes he could see cars driving past the entrance, but what caught his eye was someone walking down the path that led to the building. From this distance he couldn’t make out a face but they were a student from the uniform, but why were they there? It was already the middle of the school day and they should be in class. As if his questions were answered an alarm went off shocking the students

“Intruder alert! Please evacuate the building. Intruder alert!” The intercoms repeat as the alarm continues.

Everyone is grabbing their bags, “It’s probably just the press like last time.” Kirishima says as they get ready to leave, but Midoriya is still locked onto the figure walking to the building, they had no school bag and didn’t seem like they were in a hurry as they got closer. Whoever was walking looked up towards the building and Midoriya felt ice enter his veins seeing their face.

“Hey Deku come on we have to go.” Uraraka grabs his arm to pull him away from the window but he is frozen in shock and fear. His classmates look at him confused at his unnaturally pale face.

“Deku you idiot we have to leave.” Bakugo yells at him standing at the door where Mr. Aizawa was waiting impatiently as they needed to evacuate as a group.

“She’s here.” Midoriya said, and the class had a pretty good idea who “she” was.

“None of you leave this classroom, you got it.” Mr. Aizawa pushed them back in, closing the door, locking it and rushing to go to the other teachers leaving 1-A locked in the class unable to do anything but watch out the window.

“This is crazy, why is she back?” Kaminari said as they all tried to look out the window to see you.

“Whatever reason the Pros will stop her.” Ida said having faith in the heroes.

“You saw what she did last time she was here she almost killed Mr. Aizawa!” Mineta cried out.

“If it’s a fight that’s coming I’m not gonna sit around and wait for her to get here. Where’s the button to open our lockers” Bakugo yelled, going to Mr. Aizawa's desk looking for the button so they could get their hero costumes.

“That isn’t smart Kacchan we thought she wasn’t that advanced with her quirk but if she is that strong and involved with the league of villains we are ants compared to her.” Midoriya tried to reason with him.

“I think Bakugo is right,” Momo said which shocked most of the class, “We need to be logical with this, she’s back here for a reason, she wouldn't be coming back if she didn’t have a plan or someone specific she’s after. She is not our friend anymore right now she’s the enemy and if we want any chance of surviving this we can’t be on a lower level than her.” With Momo’s speech their thoughts were decided, they would have to prepare to fight if they wanted to come out of this alive.

You knew the Pros would be here any minute after you heard the alarm go off. You stood in front of the fountain waiting for them to arrive, you knew that this fight some people wouldn’t make it out but the heroes need to get the punishment they deserve. The loud screech from Present Mic when using his quirk could bring anyone down caused you to press your hands against your ears. You could endure this if it meant saving up energy for your quirk. You felt the capture weapon surround your body and the screaming stop and you collapsed to the ground.

“Ms. Y/n we weren’t expecting you to show up but it seems that we were still able to take you down.” You knew you couldn’t use your quirk unlike last time when that had been an illusion you just needed to wait.

“Funny Nezu you always think you're one step ahead.” You smirk looking up at the principal, “I know I’m always one step ahead.” You could smell the fire and there it was the blue flames growing from the forest.

“It’s the League of Villains!” Midnight gasped coming out of the forest were hordes of Nomus each with different quirks.

“You're sure you’re one step ahead?” You smirk and they knew you were just a decoy. The teachers outside had no choice but to deal with the Nomus heading towards the school and to where you were.

Leaving just Aizawa and Nezu to deal with you, “You are much smarter than I expected.” You shrugged and Aizawa tightened his weapon making you laugh

“I was told to give them hell.” With that you swept your foot out from under Nezu and Aizawa causing them both to jump back, with the split second it that Aizawa eyes closed you vanished from his binds. “Truly wonderful time seeing you again, but the fight has barely begun.” Aizawa doesn’t have time to fight you as he is attacked by a Nomu.

Nezu studies you and you stare back at him, “I don’t understand why you’ve done this but we will stop you.”

You grin “You heroes say that but we both know how this ends.” You disappeared from the battle leaving the teachers fighting the Nomus and the students inside defenseless against you.

“Where did she go?!” Sero said seeing you disappear from their view. With the doors locked they couldn’t leave so they stood in the classroom in their hero costumes waiting for the fight to come to them.

“We know that she’s with the league for all we know they could be in the building already and with the teachers outside we would open for an attack.” Midoriya said seeing you easily get captured only for you to be a decoy for the league to appear, it was genius.

“Midoriya, always thinking about the correct things, that was something I liked about you.” You said making the class turn from the window to where you were sitting on top of your desk in the back. “Great to see you all again.” You smiled and your classmates grimaced at you.

“You're a bitch you know that.” Bakugo hissed, making you frown.

“That hurts my feeling, Kacchan.” You hopped off your desk walking towards them, none of them moving when you stood in front of your classmates.

“You guys are smart putting on your costumes, cause out there seems like the final battle, but this is the beginning of the war.” You said and conveniently when you finished rumbling when through the building and loud explosions went off.

Out the window the view showed buildings away from UA erupting into flames explosions happening every few blocks. 1-A watched in horror that this is what she meant by war not just UA and the league, the entirety of villains and heroes battling it out; utter chaos. “With that we sadly won’t be needing you all. I say this as your former classmate and friend, stay the hell out of my way I don’t wanna hurt you.” The class doesn’t have time to fight back or anything when it feels like the ground is taking out from under them and they are warped away.

The teachers outside are struggling with Nomus keep showing up, suddenly they all freeze and walk away from the heroes heading to the building stopping in front of it as if they were guarding it. Aizawa wipes away the blood from his face “What the hell is this.” He sighs.

“Mr. Aizawa!” He hears his students yell out to him and sees them running towards him.

“What are you all doing here I told you to stay inside.” He scolds them

Ida steps up from the group, “It was Y/n she appeared in the class and then warped us all away, there were other students as well. I believe everyone in the building is now outside.” Aizawa looked back to the building that was guarded by Nomus.

“We don’t know why they would take the building but remove the students but we need to take headcount to see if everyone is actually outside. With what is happening in the city and here heroes are spread thin. This is exactly what they had planned but why go after UA and how is Y/n involved in all this.” The teachers didn’t deal with any problems with the league or Nomu they all just seemed to stop after the students were outside. Part of the forest that was destroyed by the flames was used as a base for heroes and students, everyone was outside not a single student was missing. Which put out the question of what they were after.

“Not a single student is missing, heroes from outside of Musutafu are coming in, but even then we don’t know how many villains or Nomus they might have.” Midnight told Nezu. Some of the teachers were together discussing their next plan while others were watching the students.

“We can assume that the League is in the building, we need to figure out a plan to fight them but also keep the students safe.” Aizawa said, looking over to where his class was.

“The only two people that have a decent amount of info on the league would be Aizawa and All Might.” Nezu said, “You had Y/n as a student though she never showed us the full potential of her quirk, you know her as a student. Whether her personality she showed to everyone was a lie, lies are built on truth. We need to remember she is still a child she could be manipulated to believe what she’s doing is right.” The teachers nodded, you were just a child that could be forced in the middle of this war, “Does anyone know where All Might we need some more information on the League.” The teachers looked at each other, no one had seen All Might at all. With him becoming quirkless because of Kamino he wasn’t outside when the heroes fought the Nomus. Then it hit the heroes, that’s what they were after.

“You think they figured out you are gone yet? All Might.” You asked, turning away from the window to where All Might sat tied up. “Think the new Symbol of Peace is going to be able to stop this.” You walked over to where he was and sat down in front of him.

“Y/n I don’t know why you’ve done this, but being with the League of Villains will not help you get what you want.” He tries to reason with you.

“What I want you can’t give, the next best thing is getting revenge on those who failed to save them.” You looked at the frail man sitting in front of you. “Do you know what it’s like losing everyone in your life? My parents died because you heroes failed to protect them. You call yourself a hero but you still fail to help those in need. I wanted to become a hero but my quirk was too dangerous for the public. I had no one when they died, no one wanted the girl whose quirk was literally chaos. They found me, took me in and raised me, they were the only ones who actually cared for me.” You said, tears forming in your eyes recalling your horrible childhood.

“They took you in because they saw your quirk. All for One only saw you as a pawn in his game, Shigaraki “raised” you so you would fight alongside him instead of against him.” All Might explained and you stood up, the chair behind you slamming against the floor.

“You’re wrong..they care for me.” You point your finger at him proving to him but he could see that you were doubting yourself.

“They’re using you Y/n what you are doing is leading you down a path that you can’t turn back from.” You turned away from him looking out the window seeing the Pros standing on the pathway, waiting for the fight to begin.

You could see heroes all around Japan here ready to fight, you could also see UA students ready to fight including 1-A. “Those idiots.” You mumbled. “This is the end for heroes All Might, I will get my revenge.” You exit the room walking down the hallway to the main conference room where the League was waiting as well as villains from all over Japan.

Tomura looks at you and you nod telling him you're ready, “Our time for hiding in the shadows is over, the reign of heroes will end today.” The villains cheer rushing out going to fight the heroes. You don’t move as villains pass by you including members of the League leaving as well. You feel a hand on your shoulder making you look up, “Are you alright?” Tomura asks and you nod, the sick feeling still in your stomach from what All Might said to you.

“Tomura...I’m not a pawn in all this.” You knew that you were needed in getting your revenge that’s what father told you, but were you expendable if need be.

“You are the one that is going to change the future, a bringer of chaos, Master will be proud of us both.” Tomura said and you felt the tension in you loosen a bit, “You be safe okay Tomura.” He doesn’t say anything just nodded and left you alone. What you were doing was right, the path you were following was dark but was the right one.

The showdown between villains and heroes as they stood on opposite sides neither moving yet. “We have visuals on Shigaraki and other members of the League, no visual of Y/l/n.” Aizawa heard through the comm links everyone was given, there were four squads made, squad 1 deals with underground villains, squad 2 deals with the Nomus surrounding the building, squad 3 will deal with the League and Y/n if she shows up on the field, and squad 4 will being helping in the rescue of All Might. Most of the top Pros were involved in squad 2 and 3 while lesser heroes dealt with the lesser villains and the All Might rescue.

“How long are they going to keep standing here, either fight or surrender.” Endeavor said looking at the villains standing there waiting.

“Everyone behind us!” The heroes turned and there was Y/n with villains behind her as well as a few Nomus.

“It’s an ambush!” Aizawa yells and the villains on both sides rush to attack the heroes in the middle. The thundering footsteps rush past you as they attack heroes in front of you, with your entrance on the field you disappear appearing back in the room where All Might was in.

From the window you could see Villains and heroes fought for their lives, many getting injured, some fatally wounded. “You see this All Might, heroes and villains together fighting for their lives, where’s the peace now. There is only chaos.” You glanced behind you looking at the former Pro before turning back to watch the fight.

“I’m sorry.” You hear All Might say, “I’m sorry we couldn’t save your parents, you don’t deserve to have all this hate and sadness in your life.”

You froze staring down watching your comrades and allies being hurt and your former friends and mentors dying due to your goals. “I wanted to help people. I wanted to be the kind of hero that saves everyone so no one is alone in their life. You can’t save me All Might you said so yourself I’m too far down this path to be saved.” You turn to him and he sees glimpses of the person you were in school, a curious girl with a strong quirk ready to help anyone in her class. You were just a child but you have had more problems than anyone has dealt with in a lifetime.

“We can help you, just help us stop this, we can get you the life you always wanted.” All Might pulled against the restraints pleading to you.

“We both know how this fight ends, I’m never going to get that happy ending.” You turned around to look back at the fight when you saw the door entering the room was slightly open. “Smart All Might, distract me with some sappy excuse so the heroes could get in and save you. Who’s here, someone who could be invisible, Hagakure or Asui I know you were working on camouflage with your quirk.” You call out a red haze surrounding your hands ready to fight the intruder. You have no time to react when the window you were standing in front of shatters due to an explosion, another being sent to you sending you flying across the room. You hit the wall, denting it slightly, looking up to see Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki, as well some heroes and other students from other classes. “You’re all so good, coming to save him it’s pathetic.” You spit out blood that pooled in your mouth.

“Fight then, though a school uniform wouldn’t be the best suited for this.” Bakugo smirks looking at the uniform you were still in. You smirk getting up groaning slightly from how hard you hit the wall.

“Let’s change into something more suitable.” You slowly walk to them your outfit changing as a red haze starts from your feet changing your clothes. You now wore a red chestplate with angular faulds extending into an ankle-length skirt, elbow-length red fingerless gloves, black trousers and thigh-high boots, and an intricate red crown.

“You had to ask.” Todoroki looks over to Bakugo. Bakugo rushes towards you sending an explosion at your face but it fazes right through you.

“Gonna have to try harder then that.” You laugh now on the other side of the room holding All Might in your grasp blasting the people by him away. A blast of ice is sent to you but you dodge out of the way, with the ice distracting you. Midoriya punches you in the gut sending you flying out of the building down to where the fight was. Bakugo jumps out of the building grabbing onto you using his other hand to send an explosion sending you both shooting straight into the ground making a small crater.

Bakugo hears a groan and smirks, “Not that quick are you..” The dust clears out and Bakugo is shocked to see Midoriya underneath him instead of you. “How the hell did she.” He gets up pulling up Midoriya who holds his ribs in pain. “Where the hell did she go.” He looks around at the fighting around him not given much time to think as villains attack him.

You smirk running through the fight trying to find Tomura even if they were able to rescue All Might the heroes had just as many casualties then you did. You see Tomura disintegrate someone's arm pushing them away, but you could see he was getting overwhelmed with many Pros after him. You rush towards him but a wall of orange flames blocks you from reaching him. You turn to see who sent the flames and there was the number one hero Endeavor.

“You killed innocent people.” He says making his way towards you.

“I’m reshaping the future” You get ready to fight and Endeavor sends a blast of fire towards you and you could feel the heat from the blast. Before it could hit you blue flames appear blocking the attack.

“Go we both have our jobs.” You see Dabi standing in front of you, the flames growing in both men’s hands, both him and Endeavor ready to fight. You nodded running off to Tomura, Dabi can handle himself, like he said we each had our own jobs. You see Snipe aiming his gun towards Tomura and you stand in front of him. The bullets float in midair and you send them flying back in different directions. Some hitting heroes, others hitting villains you couldn’t care as long as Tomura was safe.

“They got All Might, what now.” You stand back to back with him using your quirk to break heroes bones, sending people flying across the field.

“Get the league here we leave now.” He answers, pressing his hand on a hero's face instantly disintegrating them. You spread your hands out closing your eyes, getting a picture of each member on the field and warping them to your location.

“That was a weird feeling.” Toga giggles, throwing a knife into someone’s leg.

“Time to go now.” Tomura says.

You hold your hands out and a portal opens up in front of you. Villains that are close to the portal rush to it as they don’t want to be left behind, and the heroes see this and rush to stop you all.

“You guys go, I can handle them.” You sent a wave of energy towards the heroes nearby, sending them back. “See I got thi-”

You heard it before you felt it. In all the noise and chaos happening around you it’s funny how this small noise from far away you heard. Maybe your quirk knew what was going to happen and in some sick way warned you knowing you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop it. Two sharp pains went through your body and you jolted a bit when they hit you. Why did it suddenly feel like everything was in slow motion, why was it hard to breath, god why is everything so quiet.

You look over at the League and you see Toga screaming but being held back by Mr. Compress, Spinner was standing there shocked looking at you, and Twice and Dabi were holding Tomura back as he struggled in their grasp screaming your name. All this was happening but it was quiet. You look down at your costume and you see two bullet holes blood staining it, one in your chest where your heart is the other in your stomach. Time sped up and the noise returned as you fell to your knees coughing out blood.

“Y/N! NO LET ME GO!” You hear Tomura scream, you hold out your hand.

“Go!” You wheeze, grabbing your chest as you cough up more blood. You look at each of them taking in an image of them as Mr. Compress pulls Toga through the portal, Spinner following after him, you see Tomura still struggling trying to get to you. You make eye contact with Dabi and just nod and he gives you a solemn one back using all his and Twice’s strength to pull Tomura through. You look at Tomura and smile, you would see each other some day.

“Tomura you look after me just like a big brother does! That’s what Kurogiri told me when I asked him.” A younger version of you smiles up to Tomura and he looks at you kneeling down to your height.

“I’ll always be with you and protect you.” He placed his hand on your head making sure to keep one finger up. You smile and giggle hugging him tightly burying your face in your chest.

“Thanks Tomura.”

With the last amount of strength left in you, you wave your hand closing the portal once Tomura has completely disappeared. You feel your weight shift unable to keep yourself up on your knees and fall to the ground. You saw green lightning and they caught you before you hit the ground. You see Midoriya’s face above you yelling out to someone but you're focused on the sky and how you could see the colors change as it almost reaches sunset.

“Hey come on stay awake help is on the way just stay awake.” You see his tear filled eyes stare down at you.

“Why..I’m a bad guy.” You wheeze and he laughs, tears filling his eyes.

“No one is ever truly bad.” You smile looking back towards the sky, “Hey come on don’t give up on me.”

You hear footsteps run up and it’s Aizawa and All Might. “Come on Midoriya.” Aizawa goes to pull him away but you grab Izuku’s arm.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whimper, tears filling your eyes. Izuku nods with tears in his eyes falling. “You heroes...always see the good.. in others...it’s nice.” You smile looking up at the sky and a tear slides down your face, and you wince feeling the sharpness in your chest. “I don’t wanna die.” You cry and that breaks the heroes standing in front of you.

“Your not going to help is going to be here any minute.” Aizawa reassures you and nods.

“The sky it’s pretty…tell them I’m sorry.” You cough your breathing getting more shallow and faint and you could swear you saw two figures standing above you. “momma... papa.”

She felt fear at first but it was inner peace as you saw a bright light.

Midoriya looks down ready to comfort you to tell you that help is coming, but stops when he sees you. Your gaze is on the sky, your eyes blank, a small smile on your face finally at peace.

Izuku lets out an anguish cry when he sees your chest not rising anymore. He cries for many reasons, the pain you went through to make you a villain, the hate you must have felt fighting your former friends, and him and all the heroes failing you.

The battlefield was silent as they looked at the young boy holding her body, many heroes felt guilt ebb at them for letting a misguided child die due to this life. Students from UA are lost at words from the loss of a former friend and student, they never expected this to come this far. Students from 1-A cry, seeing their classmate hold the body of their former classmate. Teachers and heroes that knew her look away not wanting to see her body in fear they would fall apart or cry in front of others.

This day would be remembered for years to come as the day the heroes failed at saving one girl that needed the most saving.

371 notes · View notes

dp-marvel94 · 3 years ago

Text

I am you (and you are me)

For Invisobang 2021. Art by @bibliophilea

On AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Summary: Set post Kindred Spirits. Something has been different since Danny came back from Vlad's and it started when the older half ghost had the tiny clone overshadow him. The half ghost remembers: His own screams. A pain in his inmost being, in his core. A tug back and forth. Being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... the blackness of death.

Danny comes back from the experience changed, with the memories of two lives stuffed in his head and new powers. The fire powers are pretty cool but shrinking, often involuntarily, makes him feel weak and vulnerable. All of it, the powers and memories, terrify him as he learns what they mean. And the thought of telling his loved ones...How can the half ghost hope that Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will understand and accept him now when he himself cannot?

Warnings and Tags: Self harm, Identity confusion, Self-Hatred, Ectoplasm and melting clones related gore, Clone Angst, Nightmares, Memory Issues, Involuntary Shrinking. Panic Attacks, Frostbite is Danny’s Icedad. Evil Vlad Masters, Bad Parent Vlad Masters, Split Danny, Ghost Catcher, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual acceptance (by Danny and by his loved ones). Sibling Bonding, Friendship, Danny finally gets a hug.

Note: Welcome to my Invisobang fic! This is a semi-sequel to my story "Nothing and Everything." It's set directly after that story, though assuming an alternative ending. It is not necessary to read the older story to understand this one. All you need to know is, it deals with the aftermath of Danny being overshadowed by one of the clone's in Kindred Spirits and the emotional impact of the experience.

All that being said, big thanks to my amazing artist @bibliophilea for the amazing comic, and for beta reading! Thanks to @welcome-tothe-mystery-shack for your comments and feedback on this story. And finally, a huge thanks to my dearest sister @nervousdragonrebelpie for looking over chapters and listening to me ramble about this story for the past few months. I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without you.

Preview Below:

Chapter 1:

“No! I’m a person. People have names! I have to have a name. I’m not….” A sob tried to break free from his throat.

A knock suddenly rattled the door. “Danny!” Mom called.

Both boy’s heads popped up, focusing on the door. They turned to face each other. “Don’t do this.” The real Danny begged.

“What?” The being asked.

“Every time you get close to the truth, you dream up a distraction.” His eyes widened in desperate panic. “Please don’t-”

Danny’s eyes popped open, a dream swirling in his mind. His heart raced, the sheets sticking to his sweaty body. His brow wrinkled, one shaking hand moving up to rub his aching head. Aching…. He still had that damn headache.

The boy closed his eyes, trying to push the pain away, to coax his heart rate down. He breathed. In and out. In and out. Slowly, so slowly, the throb in his head dimmed, his heart calming. But still, anxiety ate up his insides.

Blearily, the boy opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Dissatisfied, he groaned and rolled onto his side. He clenched and unclenched his fists, balling up the fabric on his bed. His bed. Yes, this was his bed…. Sleeping in a bed was so nice and comfortable but at the same time... something about it felt…. off.

The boy pinched his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the feeling. His stomach flopped. Something was off. Something was different. After today, after he’d come back from Vlad’s, after the man kidnapped him, after the man clo-

Danny cut off the cursed word, his mind refusing. He buried his face in his pillow. Vlad’s. Something had happened, something had.. had changed at Vlad’s but he couldn’t... quite... remember.

It flashed in images. Being locked in a pod. Electrocution. His own screams. Pain. A pain in his inmost being, in his core…. On the bed, Danny’s core throbbed at the thought… A tug back and forth. Then being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... blackness.

He’d passed out. Danny knew that much. And he’d woken up at some point later but everything between that and when he had arrived home was a blur.

Confusion. His head swimming. Danielle.. sister… frowning in worry. The hiss of the pod being released. A sigh of relief. An ectoblast. Twisted metal and glass. Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm on his hands, on the floor. Oh god, oh god. He hadn’t meant to do that. He wasn’t... the others weren’t supposed to…. weren't supposed to...

Vlad... Master... Vlad... glaring in pure hatred. “Get behind me.” His ears ringing with a scream. The older halfa being knocked into his shelves. His knees wobbling. He fell and turned human. (Human... why did the fact that he could do that make him so happy?) But then horror. Vlad was still up and moving.

Then Sam and Tucker crashed through, hitting the older man. Locking Vlad (Master) in a pod. He needs... he needs to find Danielle. He needs to find his baby sister. But she’s gone. She’s gone.

His friends’ worried faces. “Danny, you’re not making any sense.” “Hey! Hey! Stay with us!” He wobbled…. where was Danielle?..... falling forward….. Sam and Tucker caught him.

At some point later, he’d woken up on his bed with worried friends and sister who he couldn’t adequately comfort. His head had been pounding and he couldn’t remember what happened to him… and what he did remember made little sense. Sam had checked his eyes; he didn’t have a concussion or any other injuries. With his head throbbing, he’d dismissed the confusion as being from the stress of the kidnapping and electrocution. His friends believed him, though anxiety was plain on their faces. But after a few minutes, his friends had said their goodbyes, leaving him to get some much needed sleep.

But now, the night after, Danny laid on his bed. His headache was gone, his mind clearer. He should feel better yet... his heart was sinking like a stone in his chest. That dream. That dream. That was familiar. So familiar. Like it had really happened. Like... it meant something. And yet…. Danny yawned, sudden tiredness overtaking him. He closed his eyes.

Maybe this was the ramblings of a sleep deprived brain. Yeah, maybe he was just tired. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and everything would be okay. The boy pulled his covers more tightly around himself and fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, after quickly getting ready for school and rushing off, found Danny at his locker. The boy frowned, wracking his brain. What was his locker combination again? He spun the lock, landing on 25. That was the first number, right? Then….56. And finally….12? The lock clicked and he pulled the door open.

Danny sighed. Why was that so hard to remember? He’d had to open his locker just yesterday. He should remember… but why did that feel like a lifetime ago?

“Hey! Danny!” Tucker’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Danny gasped in surprise. In his chest, his core swelled and his body reflexively flickered invisible. A second later, he reappeared, rubbing his chest.

The next thing he knew, Sam was at his side. “What was that?”

“Yeah.” His technogeek friend took a step forward, voice quieting. “Your powers haven’t slipped up like that in months.”

Danny frowned, shaking his head. “I guess... I guess I’m still kinda shook up after….” He wrapped his arms around himself.

Sam’s face softened, seeming to understand. “Do you feel any better?” She asked kindly.

The halfa’s brow wrinkled. “Well, my headache’s gone.”

“You do look better.” The goth commented, her brow furrowing with worry. “You looked rough last night.”

“Yeah, you were really out of it too.” Tucker frowned. “You kept asking where someone called Danielle was? And for your sister?” Clear confusion rang out in his voice and just a hint of teasing…. “We kept telling you Jazz was at home, covering for us.” as if the idea that he was worried about his older sister, when she wasn’t even involved, was funny.

But something in the recollection made Danny shiver. He remembered worrying about Danielle. But…. sister... he hadn’t been talking about Jazz. He’d been asking about another girl, with blue eyes and-

“Then you passed out.” Sam continued. “And we took you home.”

For a too long moment, his friends looked at him questioningly. Finally, Danny bit his lip. “I think I remember that.”

The confirmation seemed to encourage his friends. “That’s good.” Said Tucker.

Danny wasn’t sure it was. But he had no more time to think on it before the bell rang and they were walking to their first class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During lunch period, Danny sat down at their familiar table, the same one as yesterday and every day since the start of freshman year. He placed down his tray and looked over the tables, waiting for Sam and Tucker to join him.

The boy’s brow furrowed. The cafeteria looked the same as every day. The same as yesterday when…. Danielle phasing through the table, a tiny green speck racing passed him…. At the lunch table, Danny’s core pulsed anxiously. Yes, that had happened but at the same time…. Looking back at the two chasing him. Laughing without sound at their fun game.

Danny shivered, feeling cold. He rubbed his chest, nervously.

“Danny?” Someone was waving a hand in front of his face. “Danny? You with us man?”

The halfa blinked and turned, meeting Tucker’s eyes. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“What’s with the spaciness?” Sam said bluntly. She stabbed at her salad. “You were like that all during English too.”

“Was I?” The boy questioned. He shook his head. “Sorry. Just... thinking about stuff.”

His friends gave him worried looks but didn’t question him. Frankly, it was to Danny’s relief. He couldn’t seem to put his thoughts in order. He couldn’t explain this... weird feeling.

The friends chatted for most of the lunch period, Sam and Tucker dominating the conversation with a debate about the newest Doomed update.

All the while Danny idly rubbed at his chest with one hand. He picked at his cheese fries. Normally they were pretty good, but he wasn’t feeling it today. He shivered again, flinching as his fork fell through his intangible hand.

“Again?” Tucker questioned with a raised brow.

Danny didn’t respond, instead picking up his fork only for his core to flare and the utensil to fall through his fingers again. With an annoyed grumble, the boy rubbed his chest again.

“Do you think something’s up with your powers?” Sam quietly asked.

The halfa looked up, frowning. “No... I mean…”

The goth pointed. “Danny, you keep rubbing your chest.”

Danny looked down, brow furrowing. Below his palm, his core pulsed. There was something… strange about the rhythm and…. he adjusted the position, pressing just the smallest bit harder. Normally, it fit comfortably under his palm but now... “It’s... bigger?” He muttered.

“What?” Tucker asked.

Danny lowered his hand. “My core?” He shook his head. “No... I’m imagining it.” His core pulsed unhappily, even as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

Sam and Tucker again looked like they wanted to argue, but the bell rang and they split up, each hurrying to their next class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the school day was surprisingly normal. Just his typical classes, without even a ghost fight to interrupt his day. Danny should have felt relieved for such a chill day after what happened last night but yet…. The boy tapped his pencil on his desk. He felt anxious. He must still be shook up, like he told his friends this morning.

Danny bit his lip, shaking the writing instrument in his hand again. It went flying out of his grip and clattered onto the floor. The boy huffed as he bent down to grab it. His hand hadn’t even turned intangible this time.

With that, the boy straightened in his seat. He glanced at the clock. 20 more minutes left in class. Just 20 minutes. Then he could go home and take a nap. He rubbed his eyes. He was still tired after getting back so late. Maybe some sleep would help him feel better.

Soon enough, the bell rang. Danny stood and walked to his locker. This time, he remembered the combination without wracking his brain. He pulled out his books and turned to his friends, who were collecting their own belongings.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Danny said.

“Yeah, see you later.” Tucker replied.

“Call us if something comes up with the ghosts.” Sam frowned. “I’m grounded but…. I’ll sneak out if you need me.”

The technogeek groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m grounded too.”

The halfa looked down guiltily. “Sorry.” He bit his lip. “You guys shouldn’t be grounded because you had to save my sorry butt.”

“It’s fine.” Sam comforted. “We weren’t not going to save you. We’re your friends.”

“Yeah.” Tucker agreed. “It’s just the price to pay for being superheroes.”

Danny half-smiled, though he didn’t much feel like it. He wasn’t much of a hero. Guilt still choked his heart. He hated getting his friends in trouble. But still…. “Thanks for having my back.”

“No problem.” Tucker confirmed.

Then down the hall, someone called his name. “Danny?”

The boy turned. It was his sister, Jazz. He frowned. Oh right, he hadn’t talked to her since he’d been half out of it last night.

The girl quickly approached. “There you are. Come on. I’m driving you home.”

Jazz didn’t give him a choice as she started leading him towards the entrance. Danny waved at his friends, watching their worried faces until he turned the corner.

Less than two minutes later, the pair were seated in Jazz’s car. The girl didn’t start the vehicle, instead turning to face her brother. “Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”

“I... Uh…” Danny stuttered, trying to collect his thoughts.

“You disappeared during the middle of school. Sam and Tucker said some weird ghost girl showed up. You went off to fight some ghost and the next thing they knew, Vlad was carrying you away.”

The boy crossed his arms. “It sounds like you already know what happened.” He muttered.

Jazz pinned a serious look. “I know Vlad kidnapped you but…. what did he do to you?”

Danny paled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Something happened. You were unconscious when Sam and Tucker got back. And you were super out of it when you woke up. But you weren’t physically hurt. What did Vlad do to you?” His sister pushed.

Danny swallowed, his stomach flopping. “I... I don’t…. It’s fuzzy….”

Jazz rose a brow, her tone suggesting she knew there was more to it. “Danny.”

The boy flinched. “I... he... Vlad electrocuted me?” He remembered. Being locked in a pod, electricity running through him. The creepy hologram of his mom. But... but... there was more.

His sister paled. “Oh... I’m so sorry.” Her voice softened and she didn’t say anything for a while, then… “Do you know why he did that?”

Danny stiffened, looking up. The reason sparked in his mind, with the image. Vlad hissing in front of him, boasting his plan. The man had explained but…. the words stayed just out of reach. Danny's face set in a pointed frown. He shook his head.

Jazz’s own frown deepened. “That little girl…. Sam and Tucker said she looked just like you in ghost form. What does she have to do with all this?”

The boy avoided her eyes, heart fluttering nervously. The little girl.... her face snapped into focus in his mind. Danielle, that was her name. But... there was another word. Started with an S or…. a C. She was like him; she was a clo-

Danny shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. Well…. part of it was right. Danielle had been there. She’d been helping Vlad. She helped the man hurt him; painful betrayal stabbed at him from the thought. But at the same time…

“She helped me. She helped me fight Vlad.” The half ghost said quietly, awed realization sparking as he remembered.

“But… who was she?” Jazz asked, equally quietly.

Just like that, the boy paled again. The word, the cursed word, formed in his mind without his permission. Clone. She was a clone of…. him?... No... that didn’t sound right... he was the same as her but... it had to be true. His frown deepened.

“Who was she?” His older sister asked again.

The boy shivered. “I... I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Danny.” Her voice softened. “You can tell me. It’s-”

“I... I can’t... I don’t wanna talk about it.” He focused on his hands in his lap, trying to keep them from shaking.

“Clearly, whatever happened is bothering you. You can tell me.”

“No. I-” Danny bit his lip, reaching for the door. He couldn’t stay in here with her, couldn’t deal with the questions he had no answers for or rather... questions he couldn’t bear to answer. The… the c word... he couldn’t say it, could barely think it. How could he explain how everything felt wrong, like he wasn’t actually-

“Wait.” Jazz cut off his thoughts. “You don’t have to talk until you’re ready. Just... let me drive you home.”

The boy lowered his hand and slumped back in his seat. “You... you promise? You won’t press?”

His sister’s brow furrowed. Her face was tight, like she didn’t want to agree; but after a long moment, she sighed. “Alright. I promise.”

Danny nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Jazz turned the car on, put it into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove home in silence. Once they arrived, the boy went straight up to his room. He rubbed his head, flopping down onto his bed. He needed... he needed a nap. Yeah…. That was it. He was still tired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sister smiled down at him. “Look at this!” The black haired girl held up her crayon drawing. “This is me.” She pointed. “And Muscles. And Bones. And Daniel.” Her smile widened as she tapped at the last figure. “And this is you.”

The being tilted his head. He floated up, placing small hands on the green figure on the paper. He blinked owlishly up at the girl.

The corner of the girl's mouth turned down. She placed down the paper and offered him a crayon. “Come on. You try.”

The tiny being hovered forward, reaching out to touch the crayon. It was so big, almost half as tall as he was. He frowned, trying to understand.

“Make yourself a little bigger and you’ll be able to hold it.” She encouraged. “Come on. You can do it.”

The being scrunched his brow and he stretched. He was about the size of a toddler, maybe two and a half feet tall. He reached out, grabbing the crayon with his slightly larger hands.

“Great.” Sister said. She pushed a fresh piece of paper in front of him. “Now you draw. Like this.” She demonstrated, rubbing the crayon against the paper so color transferred onto it.

The being flopped down, sitting on the floor. Slowly, so slowly, he copied the girl. He traced his drawing instrument over the paper. He scribbled, creating a mess of lines and shapes without meaning or purpose.

Sister smiled proudly anyway. “You’re doing it. Good job, Tiny.”

He beamed, something in him sparking at the praise. He continued scribbling but the image changed into something more purposeful. A house took shape, stick figures. A large man and slimmer woman. A little girl and a little boy.

The little boy giggled at his drawing. His hands were chubbier than before. A toddler’s, instead of the miniaturized version of a teen’s.

“Jazzy!” He looked up, showing off his drawing to the little redhead girl.

His older sister looked up. “That looks great, Danny!” She put her own crayons down, rubbing her sweaty forehead. “It’s so hot.”

The boy suddenly dropped his crayons and drawing. “Outside! Let’s go outside!”

“But it’s hot.” The girl repeated.

The boy was already running off. “Mommy! Mommy! Can we play in the sprinklers?! Please! Please!”

Mommy turned around from where she was making lunch. “After we eat, okay?”

“Okay!” The four year old beamed, already running up the stairs to get his swim trunks.

The next thing he knew, he was outside. Mommy set up the sprinkler. He and Jazzy ran around it, giggling. Daddy came outside with water balloons and Danny let out a happy scream. “Water balloons!”

The little boy grabbed one and threw it at his sister.

Danny blinked awake to bright light on his face. His nose wrinkled. It was still light out? Oh wait, he had been taking a nap. He sat up, yawning and rubbing his forehead. He’d been dreaming again, this time about…. He shivered, remembering. He’d been playing in the back yard with Jazz when he was four. And... he’d been with Danielle. She’d been showing him how to draw.

The boy’s stomach flopped. That didn’t make sense. That hadn’t happened. Maybe... maybe he was thinking about her because Jazz had asked, earlier, when they’d been in the car but... that had felt like a memory.

Dread balled in his gut. He’d been small, smaller than her hand. And then he’d stretched and he was bigger, about the size of a toddler. Danny looked down at his hands, his human, properly sized hands. That, changing his size, wasn’t something he could do but…. In the dream, Danielle had called him Tiny. It didn’t make sense and yet….

He remembered. One of the other clones. The small green one. Danny shivered. That one, that one could shrink. That clone had overshadowed him.

The knowledge hit Danny like a ton of bricks. The tiny clone had overshadowed him. How... how didn’t he remember that until just now? How hadn’t he realized? Danny grimaced, a sickening feeling squeezing his insides. He’d been possessed. Someone else had been in his body, controlling his actions, messing with his mind. The boy wrapped his arms around himself. He felt violated at the thought. That was so wrong. Vlad had ordered one of his clones to overshadow him. And…. more memories of the experience pressed into his mind.

Danny had been semi-aware of the other presence. There had been a fight for control, another core so close to his and…. Memories, thoughts that weren’t his. Flashes of the tiny clone’s memories. And the feeling of tiny hands rifling through his own mind.

Danny pulled his knees to his chest. That must be why he’s felt so off. It was the aftereffects of being possessed. And that dream, the flashes of memory…. he must be remembering what he’d seen and felt from the tiny clone while it had been possessing him.

The boy sighed. But... the feeling would go away eventually, right? It would. He’d felt off after Sidney had overshadowed him as well. It had taken a bit to get used to being in his own body again. And Sidney was more experienced with overshadowing than his clone had been. The ghostly nerd knew how to push Danny’s spirit out of his body, instead of forcing both ghosts to cohabitate. That was why there were strange memories now, unlike last time.

But it didn’t matter. He’d get back to normal soon enough and his friends and sister would have nothing to worry about. Everything would be okay, right?

Danny stood up, rolling his shoulders to stretch. He had homework to do. He sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the way his stomach still flopped.

#Danny Phantom #invisobang #Invisobang 2021 #Big Bang 2021 #my fic #clone angst #Danny clone #tw selfhate #tw selfharm

78 notes · View notes

carelesscreativity · 4 years ago

Text

UnCorrupted!Dreammare Trading Places for Spazz: Commission for Ko-Fi

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(SFW, Angst, Blood, Fluff)

Nightmare was pulled out of the ringing darkness by Dream's voice. He almost sat up immediately, but a gentle hand on his sternum kept him against the cool grass. He opened his eyes, but his vision was fuzzy. He was less concerned about that and more concerned about how Dream sounded. Dream sounded upset. He sounded upset to the point where he would cry at any moment and his voice was laced with anger. "-annot believe you. You should all be ashamed." His voice was shaky. "This is not what Mother would’ve wanted."

They were under the apple tree and Nightmare stared blankly up into its branches as he heard someone else begin to speak. Dream cut them off immediately, his voice becoming a little shrill. "NIGHT WOULDN'T DO THAT!!" He inhaled shakily before apologizing. He spoke again, a little quieter, but not any less emotional. "Night wouldn't do that. He wouldn't steal." Dream sounded appalled and outraged that it had even been suggested. Nightmare felt something cool and wet pressed against his throbbing forehead. A rag. He didn't even remember what had happened. Dream was sitting next to him.

Nightmare's eyelights drifted over and Dream blinked, turning to look down at him. His eyes were teary and he quickly focused on him. "Brother! Brother, you're awake!" His golden tears spilled over. "Good stars..." He leaned down and pressed their foreheads together for a moment before pulling back. Nightmare could barely move. Dream stared at him for a moment. More tears spilled over and he seemed to become angry again, looking to the side with blazing eyes. "And even if Night HAD stolen, there would be NO REASON-" He had to take a moment to compose himself, hiccuping weakly as he lowered his voice.

"There would be NO REASON... to break his bones like this..." He began to cry, hiding his face with one hand. There was a wave of concerned murmurs. Dream hiccuped and wiped his eyes. He got up and left Nightmare's sight for a moment. He could still hear him. "Give me his crown. You are sick to hold it when his blood is on your boots." There was a moment of silence before Dream reappeared with his stained crown. He set it to the side and settled back down next to Nightmare. "I expect an apology to my brother tomorrow while I'm away. Is that understood?" There were murmurs of agreement and Dream nodded before sighing shakily. "All of you please leave. No one gets any apples today."

There were the beginnings of protests and begging. Dream's eyes lit up in unbridled fury as he whipped around on them. "You nearly beat my BROTHER to DEATH!! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!" He screamed at them. He continued to glare for several minutes before he turned back to look at Nightmare. "Brother..." He sounded broken. Nightmare managed to move one of his arms and shakily reached up to try to wipe away some of Dream's tears. "No, no, it's okay... please save your strength." He nuzzled Nightmare's hand before taking his arm and laying it back next to his side. "Brother, they will apologize tomorrow. I will not give them anything until they do." His voice was shaking.

Nightmare shook his head, murmuring in a tired voice that they weren't going to stop. Dream blinked and Nightmare realized he'd let that slip without thinking. His eyes widened and he began to speak, but within moments, there was a hand covering his mouth. "Night?" Dream's voice was small and it made Nightmare's breath catch. "Night, how many times have they done this?" Nightmare paused as he stared at him, making the mistake of looking Dream in the eyes. His brother was always able to read him like a book. Dream seemed to pale and he covered his mouth. The silence that followed was one of the most painful as Dream shut his jaws and moved down to roll up Nightmare's pant legs, starting to fuse his shattered legs back together.

Nightmare kept his face covered. He hadn't wanted Dream to ever find out about that. He was shaking quietly. They continued to sit in silence, the sky slowly changing into hues of red and pink and purple as the sun began its descent under the horizon. Dream's magic faltered a little as Nightmare quietly asked why he was leaving again. "I am going to bring an apple to each of the surrounding villages. Spread positivity and prevent any more fighting." He said in a hushed voice. Nightmare nodded after a moment. There was another stretch of silence before Dream opened his mouth. Nightmare cut him off immediately.

"You're not canceling. You're not postponing. Not for me." He said firmly. Dream finished healing and crawled up next to Nightmare's side. He began to protest and Nightmare shook his head. "No. Absolutely not." Dream's shoulders were slumped for a moment before he got an idea. He reached out and gently cupped Nightmare's face, forcing his brother to look at him. Their eyes met and they both blinked at the same time, a tingle going through both their bodies. Nightmare sighed. "Dream, you KNOW what that does. I don't look good with your eyes." He rolled his starry golden eyelights. Dream gave a weak giggle as he stared back with Nightmare's own purple circles. He knew how to cheer his brother up. Nightmare glanced at him before snorting softly as Dream stared at him. "Alright, fine. It's a little funny."

Dream gave a tiny laugh and leaned down, nuzzling Nightmare. He picked up Nightmare's crown and slipped it onto the other's head. "Can I have my eyelights back, brother?" Nightmare asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Dream pouted and both princes couldn't help but break out into weak laughter. "Really, Dream. Give them back." Nightmare said warmly. He reached up and stroked his brother's cheek, Dream tipping his head into it. They both met eyes and blinked again, the tingle returning through both them for a moment.

Dream smiled at Nightmare with his golden, starry eyelights once more. He sighed, fiddling with his fingers. "Night..." Uh oh. Nightmare knew that voice. Dream was going to suggest something, but based on the way he said his name, it wasn't something that Nightmare was going to like. In fact, Dream didn't even have to say anything else. They stared at each other. Just like Dream with him, Nightmare was also able to read his brother. He furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"No. Absolutely not." He said. Dream's shoulders sank. "Dream, I will not allow it. It wouldn't even work. How would I even-"

"I'll wrap them. Night, please." Dream leaned down and gently clinked their crowns together. "Please, Night. Just this once. For your safety." He inhaled shakily. "My trust in them has been... SHATTERED." His voice shook hard on the last word. He seemed to need a moment. "I cannot trust that they won't hurt you again while I'm gone. I..." He hunched over him. He kept his eyes closed and Nightmare stared at him in quiet dismay. It was getting dim now, both of them glowing quietly in their respective colors. Nightmare stared at Dream. He couldn't say no, especially when Dream looked at him like that. "PLEASE."

Nightmare gave a weak nod and Dream nodded back. He laid on his side next to Nightmare, reaching out and hugging him. Nightmare grunted and turned on his side, hugging him back. He stared at his brother before gently clinking their crowns together again. "You're going to get hurt." He said, his voice breaking a little. Dream stared back at him before nodding and whispering that he knew. "They're relentless, Dream." Nightmare reached out and snagged the golden blanket that usually hung up on the tree. He pulled it over the both of them. The second it was covering their faces, Dream cupped Nightmare's cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, only lasting a moment. Nightmare sighed quietly as Dream pulled back, both of their faces lightly tinted in their respective glow. Nightmare finished pulling the blanket over both of them. He held his brother close as he stared at the moon.

Their little plan went smoothly the next morning, both of them trading clothes and eyelights. As the carriage arrived to take away "Dream", Nightmare was handed the basket of three wrapped, golden apples. He took it and hugged his brother for a moment, Dream hugging back tightly. He bid goodbye to his brother for the day, dread already building in his soul from what he knew he was going to come back to. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too bad.

Nightmare's carriage returned earlier than expected. He hadn’t stuck around with the village leaders for idle chitchat like Dream would’ve. The second the door was open, Nightmare was off, having already sensed that something was wrong. Sure enough, he could see the tree and there was a large crowd of people around it. A couple of them heard his footsteps as he ran and shocked whispers quickly spread, a couple monsters fleeing. Murmurs that he wasn’t supposed to be back this early. He shoved his way through the mass and stopped, his body turning cold.

Dream was hunched in front of the tree, clutching the golden fabric of the blanket. He had his eyes screwed shut, one of them broken in. Nightmare could tell he had a couple broken ribs already and he slowly moved forward. It was dead silent from the villagers around them. One began to speak that they’d found him like this, but Nightmare turned and fixed them with such a magnificent glare from Dream’s starry eyes, that it sent a shockwave through the crowd and shut that villager up. He moved forward and knelt down next to Dream on his knees, the other struggling to look up at him. Dream was forcibly keeping his mouth shut. The second he met Nightmare’s eyes, they both blinked. There was an exclamation from multiple people as their eyelights switched back.

Dream struggled to his elbows. He opened his mouth and there was another wave of shocked and horrified whispers as golden blood spilled from his jaws. Golden tears trickled down from his eyesockets as he began to cry weakly. He continued to gurgle and cough, choking a little. Nightmare reached out and pulled his brother’s head into his lap, Dream whimpering for him shakily. Nightmare spoke in a cold, authoritative voice. Normally when he spoke, the villagers would jeer and tell him to shut up. Maybe throw things at him. But not this time. “All of you leave. No one shall receive any apples today.”

There was no arguments this time as the villagers quickly began to flee the scene. Dream began to sputter that he was sorry. That he was sorry and he should’ve known what they were doing. “I-I knew th-they didn’t like you, b-but to be this cruel...” He was shaking and struggling to breathe. Nightmare murmured that he knew. “Night... Night, I’m so sorry, I should’ve known... I should’ve-” Dream stared at him tearfully before beginning to sob again. He whispered that he was sorry over and over. Nightmare watched him for a few moments before leaning down and gently clinking their crowns together.

“I know.” He whispered softly. He ached a little as he spoke, gently cupping Dream’s damaged cheek. “I know and I forgive you.” The words rang through the air and it was silent before more sobs finally escaped Dream and he buried himself against the other. Nightmare sighed, beginning to heal him. “I forgive you...”

171 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death [other warning to be added throughout series]

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So i just worked my ass off and retail is always crummy this time of year so I’m gonna escape with some sweet Arvin Russell writing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The spring air was warm as the breeze swept over the low fence and fluttered the tails of shirts hung across the line. You grabbed two pegs and a swathe of damp fabric and stretched it over the cord, pinning it in place before moving along. Your old machine had taken much of the day to wrangle and had even received a kick. It was decades old, an heirloom inherited with the old country house and much more clunky than the modern machines. Not many in the county had anything more than the old wringing machines.

Roy would be home soon. Your husband hated to hear about how the wringer jammed so easily and the fear that your fingers might again be bruised by the mechanism. Even so, you were certain it wouldn't last for much longer. It's rattles foretold its imminent fate. You'd be back to a bucket and board soon enough.

As you hung the last piece, Roy's oil stained overalls, you heard the putter of the truck. You picked up the woven basket and headed for the gate along the front of the house. You waved as he pulled up, tires loudly mulching the dirt, and you stopped short as he came to a jagged halt. He wasn't alone and you were stillwearing your grimy and wet apron.

Roy pushed his door open so roughly it creaked. He stepped out and gave an exaggerated stretch as he glanced across the roof of the truck and slammed the door.

"Don't forget your bag, boy," he growled at the other man as he felt around the chest pocket of his overall for his smokes. "Looks like you're too late for laundry day."

"Roy?" You unclasped the gate and opened it as Roy stomped across the gravel and lit up a smoke, "How was your day?"

You peeked over at the other man who climbed out of the truck. He wore similar overall, though they were unbuttoned over a greasy white shirt, and he was shorter and thinner than your husband. He reached back into the truck and grabbed a long military style duffel before he swung the door shut.

Your husband grumbled and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

"We have a guest?" You asked as you stayed by the gate.

"Arvin Russell," Roy flicked the ash away, "You remember I was talkin' 'bout renting out the attic."

"Um, yes," you blinked as the other man, Arvin, neared meekly. Roy had mentioned the idea once when he noticed the way his truck had started rumbling. "It'll need a good dusting."

"So you better get on that." Roy coughed. "What's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf," you answered and turned back to smile at the other man as he bowed his head and passed through the gate.

"Hello, missus," he said kindly, "Nice to meet ya. I work with your husband, says you're a fine cook."

"The one thing she can do," Roy muttered as he ambled up the steps of the porch and dropped onto the bench sat by the window. "You go grab us some bottles."

You closed the gate behind Arvin but he waited for you to precede him before going any further. He was surprisingly polite for any man who worked at the shop.

"Yes, Roy," you hid your disappointment. Those nights when Roy started drinking before dinner rarely ended well.

"Can I just have some water?" Arvin asked as he followed you onto the porch, "Please. I didn't get to my lunch today so I'm not really feeling like drinking."

"Of course," you said, "If you're hungry, I got a box of crackers and some cheese I can bring out."

"Thank you but I'd hate to spoil dinner." Arvin sat on the end of the bench and kept his bag between his feet as Roy threw away his cigarette. "Thank you both for having me."

You nodded and quickly skirted inside. You were a bit confounded by Roy's sudden burst of generosity. He rarely did anything for anyone else. To think he'd offer a room to a coworker was unlike him.

You went to the old fridge, marked with dings and dents, and wiggled the handle until it opened. You remember the day you Pa had broken the handle, he'd always promised to fix it but had only managed to make it worse. You missed him. It was easy to miss him in this old place. His wedding present to you and Roy. It was too tragic he hadn't lived long enough to see you enjoy it.

You grabbed a brown bottle then filled a tall glass from the tap. You went back to the door and opened it with your elbow. You handed Roy his beer as Arvin stood to accept his glass of water.

"Thank you," he chimed but your husband only popped the cap of his beer with his teeth and glared out at the yard.

"Well dinner is in the oven still. I'll just be finishing that before I get started in the attic." You told Roy but he only shrugged and gulped down the beer. "Let me know if you boys need anything."

"Peace and quiet," Roy snarled. "S'all I need right now."

Arvin gave a sympathetic look and traced his thumb along the side of the glass. You hid your discomfort and retreated inside. That was just Roy. He was always in a mood after work. An hour or two and he would mellow out. The beer would surely help.

🚬

When you finished supper, you called the men in to eat. Roy started his second beer as Arvin remained quiet and awkward at the table. You didn’t say much as you pondered the work still left to be done. You had to tidy the attic before the night ended and collect the laundry from the line. You would also have to clear the table and clean up the mess of your cooking.

You stood before the men finished. You scraped your untouched scraps into the dish of leftovers and placed the glass lid on it. You scoured the loaf pan as you listened to the clink of cutlery on plates and set the pots on the drying rack. You returned to the men to gather their empty dishes and Arvin thank you as Roy belched and stood with a satisfied but gruff rumble.

Arvin watched you as you tried to ignore the pity in his face. You knew your husband wasn’t the most loving or vocal, but he was yours and he worked hard. You turned away and went back to the kitchen. You finished washing the last of the glassware and dried it before stacking it in the cupboards.

As you passed through the dining room, Arvin was gone and you could hear the buzz of the radio from the front room. Roy always liked to listen to the game after he ate. Sometimes you sat with him and crocheted or read but not often.

You tiptoed upstairs and found the footstool hidden in the bottom of the linen closet. You climbed onto the step and reached up to unhook the cord of the attic door. It dangled down and you pulled it carefully as you backed off the stool and kicked it away. The steps unfolded and you barely stepped out of the way of their descent as the heavy wood thumped against the carpet.

It had been a while since you ventured up to the third floor. There was only dust and forgotten memories up there. You slowly made your way up and sneezed as you reached the top. A wall of boxes blocked the window along the front of the house and shrouded furniture sat beneath grimy sheets.

You started with the boxes. You took one and peeked under the flaps. Some old oil lamps hoarded by your father from his own parents. You awkwardly made your way back down to the second floor and placed the box at the bottom. When you had them all down, you’d take them into your father’s old room to store. Perhaps you should sort through them at last and get rid of the unneeded artifacts.

You were six boxes deep when you were startled by a shadow in the open hatch. You exclaimed and nearly dropped your armful as Arvin poked his head through and peered over at you.

“Arvin,” you gasped. “My apologies, this place is a mess.”

“Not so bad,” he climbed up and stood, “You need some help?”

“Don’t be silly, I can manage--”

“You’re right. It’s a mess,” he insisted, “A lot for just one person.”

You stared at him and gave a small smile. He was funny. He neared you and reached out for the box in your arms.

“How about this, I’ll stay on the ladder and you bring the boxes to me and I’ll take ‘em down.” He took the box gently from you, “It’ll be much quicker.”

You looked into his soft brown eyes and let him. He backed away and cautiously made his way down the ladder. You turned and grabbed another box and he reappeared through the hatch. You handed him the box of figurines and he retreated once more. You carried on and soon, the boxes were stacked high on the lower floor.

“Alright,” Arvin climbed up and dusted off his hands, “Already lookin’ better.”

He neared the old sofa against the wall and pulled off the sheet. He coughed as the dust was kicked up and it soon turned into a chuck as he waved away the cloud.

“We can keep this here,” he draped the sheet over his arm and pulled the next from the tall lamp with the glass shade, “Move this into the corner,” he continued on and peeked under a sheet before unveiling the tall shelf, “If you don’t mind, of course?”

“Not at all. We should’ve sold all this years ago.” You teetered on your heels anxiously. Every piece reminded you of your father. “There’s a cot folded up over there,” you pointed behind a hidden end table, “But that wouldn’t be much better than the floor.”

“It’ll do,” he assured you and turned to sit on the sofa. He bounced as he hugged the sheets. “This isn’t too bad.”

“Well, there’s a bed down in my pa’s room. We could try to bring it up tomorrow. If you don’t mind offerin’ a little more help.” You wrung your hands. You were never very good with strangers and Roy’s friends often weren’t much nicer than him. You were tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I think I could do that,” he stood and wiggled his nose as a sneeze threatened. “You got a broom? Maybe a duster?”

“You’ve done enough, I can finish it--”

“Ma’am, I’m a guest in your home. I might be paying for the room but it doesn’t make you my maid,” he intoned, “You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t think I’ve eaten so well since before my momma died.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry,” you uttered. “I--”

“Now, don’t be sorry,” he cooed, “Nothing to be sorry for. I assume you lost your daddy if his bed is free.”

You nodded dumbly and blinked.

“Well, at least let me take these,” you reached for the sheets and he hesitated before he let you take them. You struggled to keep them balled up and hugged them against your hip as you turned back to the hatch. “I’ll bring you the broom.”

“Thank you,” he said behind you and you looked back at him as you took your first step down the ladder, “You let me know when you bring that washin’ in and I’ll help you fold.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I want to. Makes me feel a little better about stealin’ your attic,” he assured you.

You looked down and slowly descended. As your feet met the carpet, you sighed and looked around at the boxes. You couldn’t remember a time Roy had ever offered to help with anything. If it wasn’t to do with his truck, he couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.

🚬

You were completely drained by the time you retired to your bedroom. You were still on edge, your exhaustion laced with anxiety as you unbuttoned your blouse. You sat on the side of the bed as you slowly undressed. It was still absurd to you that another person, barely more than a stranger, was living in your home. In your father’s house.

It changed your whole routine. You couldn’t help but go over it in your mind. That meant three plates, not two, for every meal, that meant the laundry basket would fill up quicker, than meant the shoes tracks in the front entrance would need to be mopped up more often. That mean you had to act like your marriage was truly happy.

You pulled on your night gown, the short sleeves tickled your upper arms as you dropped your clothes in the wicker basket on your chest of drawers. A framed photo of your parents’ wedding day sat beside it and on the shelf beside the door, was your own wedding portrait.

Three years wasn’t so long but it felt an eternity. You couldn’t quite recall when Roy had changed. When the beer had started to taint his kisses and his words. When all pretense fell away and only the man remained. The brutish country boy with the churlish demeanour.

Maybe the first day of your marriage. Maybe. You were so nervous on your wedding night that it angered him. You’d mend your dress one day, hopefully when you had a daughter of your own so you had something to promise her.

Or maybe a week after the wedding, when you broke the vase gifted to you upon your nuptials and it shattered across the floor. Roy’s booming voice and his boulder-like fists.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, a month in when the world went black with his hand on your throat and you awoke alone on the kitchen floor.

Maybe a year when your finger was dislocated by a slammed door. Maybe the next year when you couldn’t sit for the pain in your hips. Maybe the one after when he’d grown impatient for a child only to find your sheets soaked in blood.

Maybe it had always been there, from the first date, but you’d simply refused to accept it. Not you. Not Roy. You loved him and he loved you, didn’t he?

The door slammed and shook you from your sombre recollections. You looked up as Roy stumbled in. He snickered darkly as your eyes met his and his legs wobbled beneath him drunkenly.

You slid off the bed and turned to plant your elbows on the mattress. A prayer before bed, as your grandmother had taught you. Another sarcastic chuckle aimed in your direction as Roy’s stained white tee missed the basket.

“On your knees for me already,” he sat beside your elbow as he unbuckled his belt.

You couldn’t focus on your inner recitation. You could smell the alcohol on him, the stench of oil and his sweat. You clutched your hands together and cleared your throat.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked calmly.

He frowned and stood to shove his pants past his knees. He kicked the jeans away and fell heavily back to the bed.

“Call you?” He sneered.

“To let me know about our guest?” You wondered innocently. “I could’ve readied for him better.”

“Workin’,” he growled. “I don’t got time to be callin’ you with my head under an engine. Fuckin’ Christ.”

“There isn’t a bed in the attic.” You said.

“So. Arv’s small enough. I’ve seen him sleep on a stool.” Roy spat.

You hid your chagrin behind your hands as you pressed them to your lips.

“Why’d you bring him?”

Roy’s nostrils flared and a fist formed atop his hairy thigh. “I gotta explain to you?” He snapped. “He paid me outright and he been sleepin’ at the motel since he started.”

“Mr. Dace has a room--”

“Mr. Dace lives twice as far as we do. I did the kid a favour. He saved my ass his first day.” Roy stomped his foot. “Woulda burned down the whole garage if he hadn’t caught that leak.”

“Kid? He that young?”

“Couple years younger than you, I s’pose, maybe less,” Roy rubbed his cheeks and shook his head, “What’s it matter to you?”

“Curious,” you said quietly and closed your eyes as you rested your chin on your knuckles.

Roy was quiet. He let out a long, thick breath and the bed jolted beneath your arms.

“You finished bleeding?” He asked gruffly.

“I’m praying, Roy,” you insisted.

“How long’s it take you? I’m sure God’s heard it all before.”

“Don’t talk like that, R--”

You squeaked as he grabbed your wrist and wrenched your arms away. He rose and lifted you with him. Always a strong man, he moved you like a puppet to his will. He took your other wrist and pulled you against him.

“You know, I don’t even care if you’re bleeding.” He turned you and shoved you onto the bed. You cried out as you bounced so hard you bit your tongue.

“Roy, please, I’m tired,” you stared up at him fearfully as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. You could taste blood.

“You’re my wife. You do your duty.” He pushed his underwear down as his cock twitched. “You got energy to wash all them clothes, you can lay on your back for your husband.”

“Roy--”

“Shut up!” He shouted. “We got company. I don’t need ya keepin’ him up with your whining.”

You closed your eyes as he fell onto you. He crushed you beneath him as he tugged your skirt up harshly. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and you braced yourself for his painful intrusion. Even so long into the marriage, you had never grown used to his touch.

He retracted his hand and began to touch himself. He stroked his cock as he swore under his breath.

“Fuck. Come on.” He moved his hand quicker and rubbed his soft tip against your folds. “Open up.”

He forced his dick against your entrance and tried to push inside. He was still half-flaccid and struggled to get further than an inch. You balled your hands and sank your head into the mattress as he thrust. He fell out of you, softer than before.

You opened your eyes sat up on his knees and looked down at his limp dick. He gritted his teeth as you watched him.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he punched your stomach as hard as he could and you wheezed as you folded in on yourself. “Can’t even keep me hard.”

“Roy--” You hissed. “I’m s--”

“One more word and you’ll be real sorry.” He pushed himself from between your legs, making certain to pinch you as he did.

He stood and turned. You barely moved out of the way before he sprawled over his side of the mattress. You held your stomach, a painful pressure lodge there, and rolled to the edge of the bed. You reached over and pulled the chain on the lamp.

As you laid back, Roy caught the back of your neck and kept you in a painful limbo.

“On the floor,” he jarred your neck as he tried to throw you off the bed. “Like the dog you are.”

You slid off the side and landed sharply on your knees. You stifled a shameful sob and lowered yourself down onto your side. You bent your knees and cushioned your head on one arm. You stared into the void beneath the bed as the frame groaned beneath Roy’s heavy body.

“Goddamn bitch,” he uttered groggily. “Fuckin’--”

His words turned to snores as he finally drowned in his bellyful of beer. You listened to his jagged, drunken breaths as you shivered on the cold wood. You closed your eyes and recalled the first night you’d slept on the floor. You’d been in much poorer shape and it had been the dead of winter.

At least, you didn’t have to sleep next to him.

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #the devil all the time #of something beautiful but annihilating

480 notes · View notes

oven-thermometer · 3 years ago

Text

Unwelcome Guest Pt. 2

Author's notes: it should be canon that Strife has lightning powers and that's on my love for electric type characters. Also yes I know this is very short but don't come for me I want to leave it on a cliff-hanger

Warnings: blood, injury, home invasion, angst, violence, near-death experience.

Slow.

Groggy.

Dark.

Pain.

Wet. Wet?

Blood.

Your bones felt like they were made of lead, everytime you even thought of moving from your position on the floor; it would be denied. If you could just get to the door, or a phone. Then you could call the others.

Others.

Looking over, you noticed how Strife's hand kept twitching. The dark blood spewing uncontrollably from the gash on his shoulder dripped onto your carpet, staining both it and your mind. Strife's labored breathing also reached you. His eyes were narrowed and weak - threatening to drop at any moment. The yellow hue of his eyes had darkened to a golden brown, you'd never seen him like this. He always got back up. He always had a funny remark to make, that's how you knew he was OK.

But now, as Strife leaned against wall and you stayed on all fours on the floor, you knew it wasn't OK.

The moment when Strife reminded you that it couldn't have been Death you started panicking. Strife had gone out to check if he was still there, as he returned he stood in the doorway and gave you a heartfelt smile before suddenly getting pierced through the stomach by a sharp flow of air. The figure reappeared a few meters behind Strife, his hood still up.

Strife had managed to evade most of his attacks, but he was distracted by making sure you weren't hit. Just before you were hit with a massive spike of wind, he had dived in front of you and taken the brunt of it on his arm. That's how you ended up knocked onto the floor with Strife bleeding out from the force.

"Strife...?" it was all you could manage. He wasn't moving anymore. He wasn't even twitching. His breath became extremely shallow and slow, making you worry even more. These were simple, wind-centered attacks, why were they bringing him down so hard? You've seen Strife take cleavers to the chest and spears through the stomach. This can't be the end.

With the last of your energy, you brought your hand up to your face to wipe the threatening tears away, "Strife. Get u-up."

His eyes shifted to you, narrowing to slits.

Before your vision blacked out, you saw how Strife gathered his strength and lunged forwards towards the being, what you didn't see were the small bolts of electricity dancing around Strife's form.

Warm.

Soft.

Dry?

Calm.

Safe.

The piercing rays of sun blocked your vision even as you kept your eyes closed. Bringing your hand up to your face, you felt a tingling sensation run up your body. It didn't hurt but it felt, odd. Like someone was running hundreds feather over your entire body at once. The feathers were warm too.

One feather felt, odd though. Like it wasn't a feather at all but, like it was a hand. It was on yours, brushing over your fingers gently as if to quietly alert you to a presence.

As you lowered your hand, you peeled your eyes open; what met you puzzled you. You recognized on of the demons working for Vulgrim that you had met, they usually did small errands for him in harmless places. He was small, short and a trickster. The word 'gremlin' fit him perfectly. His clawed fingers had been grasping at yours, you just realized.

Recoiling quickly, you shuffled back. The demon gave you a sinister grin and giggled to himself, "Oh don't worry, human, I won't hurt you. I'm not paid enough for that." his tone reminded you of small and weird inconveniences. Wet socks, dropping teaspoons into drinks, placing the USB in the wrong way - it was all so... mildly-infuriating. It was enough to dislike him but not enough to hate him. Which made you like him less.

They chuckled again, and scuttered away. This let your eyes adjust to the rest of the environment. You were in a small tent made of fine silks and fabrics, filled with blankets and pillows of the same luxury. Bright purples and yellows made the fabrics seem even more expensive. The front was open though, letting the overwhelming sun flow through onto you. As your eyes adjusted again, you could see a field of fresh grass. Tiny sounds of locusts and birds made their way into the tent as well, pushing your attention away from the way the demon scuttled it's way across the field.

#darksiders #darksiders strife #darksiders genesis #darksiders vulgrim #vulgrim #strife #darksiders fanfiction #x reader #strife x reader #Unwelcome Guest

33 notes · View notes

partywithgyu · 4 years ago

Text

Kill for you //Choi Soobin//

��yandere!soobin x reader.💌

💌Warning: Mentions of death and murder. Descriptions of a dead body.💌

It had been months since it first came to your attention that your co worker, who you had no interest in, was interested in you. His name was Dan. Dan was bad at taking hints but very good at making the environment uncomfortable for you. You had told your other friends about it. The people with desks near yours, too sympathized with you. So, when he came over to you ask you to be his Valentine, all it took was a look for the one of them to come to your rescue. Choi Soobin, walked over to the desk, blocking you from Dan.

"Y/N, we're having lunch on the balcony today. Do you want to join us?," he asked you. You immediately nodded. "Sure." You grabbed your lunch box and followed the tall male to the balcony. Choi Soobin was handsome. It was no secret. The one man who gained the attention of every new intern, was him. You, yourself, at times found yourself swooning over his cuteness. His mannerisms would make you want to ask him out. But you never did. Was that fortunate or not?; you didn't know.

"Was Dan on his bullshit again?," asked the woman who used to work on the desk next to your desk. You took a seat, on the bench, next to her. A sigh left your mouth. "Pretty sure he wanted me to be his Valentine." Your other co workers chuckled. "I've never seen someone so bad at taking hints," said another one before he took a bite of his sandwich. You opened your tiffin box, and started eating the sandwich in your box. "By the way, do you have a Valentine?," asked your co worker. You shook your head.

"That's suspicious," said another one. You swallowed the food in your mouth. "What's suspicious about it?," you asked. "Why don't you have a Valentine?," asked the woman next to you. "Because no man who met the criteria asked me if I wanted to be his Valentine," you replied. You wondered if Soobin got the subtle hint you were trying to give him. He quietly munched on his food, while listening to the conversation. "And what's the criteria?," asked the man next to Soobin. You shrugged. "Let's see," you said as pretended to dose off in thoughts.

"Will he have to die for you?," mocked the guy, making everyone chuckle. "Now, she'll say that he should rather live for her instead," added another co worker. You raised a finger and shook it side by side. "To be my Valentine, he'd have to kill for me," you added to the joke making everyone laugh. A smirk drew on Soobin's face as he looked over at you. Had you managed to gain his interest with the joke?, you wondered.

You had indeed. And so when you headed home, close to midnight for you had spent time with a friend of your's discussing how much Valentine's Day sucks, you found in your letter box, an envelope. The heart shaped sticker on top made you hope, it wasn't from Dan.

Once you were inside the house, you took a seat on the couch. The letter, you couldn't attend later, because you were curious. So, you opened it. It had pictures. You held the pictures in your hands. After a few seconds of analyzing them, a shiver ran down your spine. Your eyes opened wide when you saw the pictures of a dead body. The body belonged to Dan. His throat was slashed. Dark, clogged, blood covered the wound. The familiar face, now had no life. You immediately kept them aside and reached for the letter inside the envelope. You opened it to see a name under it. Choi Soobin.

There was no way he could have done it, you thought. A gasp got caught in your throat. You read what the letter had to say. 'For you, I shall kill whoever dares to annoy you. Y/N you're lovely. You're so pretty, funny and intimidating. Everything about you makes you perfect. The way you talk, laugh, smell and your humour. That's what get all the guys to like you. But you don't belong to them. I can tell, you were made for me. For that, I'll be your Valentine.'

It had to be a joke. There was no way Choi Soobin, the most kind hearted, sweetheart of the office could ever do something so horrendous, you thought. Not knowing what to do, you found yourself sitting on the couch, all confused. That's when your phone started ringing. The caller ID read the name of the potential killer. You answered it, hoping none of this was true. That it was all an elaborate prank by your co workers.

"Hello?," you said. "Hi. Did you get my letter?," asked Soobin. Still not wanting to believe it, you asked him, "I did receive one. What kind of a letter was your letter?" "The kind that proved that I met the criteria to be your Valentine." You gulped. There was silence. The fact that it wasn't a prank was now setting in. "Why are you so quiet, my Valentine?," asked Soobin on the other end. You opened your mouth to say something but you couldn't. You didn't know what to say to him at a time like this. "Anyway, I am outside your door. Open it for me, beautiful."

He was right outside your door. There was no way you could do anything about it. Even now, you couldn't believe that this was real. As you wished to open the door and find out it was a prank, you stood up and headed to it. You counted to three and then opened the door. In front of you stood the most angelic looking man. His pink lips curved into a small smile. He handed to a bouquet of red roses and then a box of chocolates. You just took them, waiting for him to tell you that it was a prank. "Surprised to see a man who can meet your criteria?," he asked you before smiling. You couldn't say anything. "Smile for me beautiful," he commanded, the smile on his face vanished. His dark eyes looked into your eyes, causing tears to brim them. You forced your lips into a smile only to see his smile reappear. "Happy Valentine's Day."

‹•.•›

Here's my masterlist.

180 notes · View notes

pretendfan · 3 years ago

Text

STORY (idea 2) Vigilante x OFC

Zoey by day works at a coffee shop but late at night she is a kick ass, if not illegal crime fighter (Lady Lightning) (the LL’s look like lighting on her suit) she does this because Evergreen is full of weirdos.

Adrian by day, works at Fennel Fields ignoring everyone because they hated him but by night he was Vigilante a crusader not with a death wish but a goal to rid the streets of assholes.

Zoey has lived in Evergreen for over eight months and it was only two months ago she decided to get out there and try to make a change, namely clean up the messes that the idiot Vigilante left behind.

Adrian couldn’t stand the fact that another person was out there fucking up his streets when it should just be him, he was a top tier crime fighter well around these parts of DC he was.

In real life Zoey thinks that Adrian is pretty cute, if not a bit weird but it wasn’t like she had time to date let alone hook up with the guy who kept coming into the coffee shop usually when she was there.

In real life Adrian thinks that Zoey is way out of his league, so instead of trying to flirt with her he has just put her at arms length instead it’s cool hanging out with her but it isn’t like they do that a lot he was so busy with his Vigilante work to focus on anything else.

Behind the mask Zoey is annoyed every time she sees Vigilante out on the streets as he seems to ruin her missions much to his amusement, as they argue and fight one another.

Behind the mask Adrian is intrigued by (LL)she is funny, very easy to wind up and to say he doesn’t like to fight with her was an understatement but she could be anyone under the mask yet again another women off limits.

When Vigilante and (LL)have to grudgingly team up to take down a drug ring who has made a reappearance the pair disagree on everything causing (LL) to be captured and held hostage until Vigilante flys in and saves her much to her annoyance.

In a moment of madness (LL) takes off her mask only for Vigilante to recognise her right away and try not to freak out in front of her. She tells him her name is Zoey and he shouts at her then for admitting her real identity but he lets slip he already knows her which makes her back away from him until Vigilante takes off his mask and Zoey ends up fainting.

Will Zoey see Adrian differently now she knows he is Vigilante?

Will Adrian finally make a move or is this yet another set back in his very slow paced quest of winning over Zoey?

Should I even write this?!

#freddie stroma #love vigilante #fan fic #ideas ideas ideas #vigilante x oc #angst with a happy ending #will they won't they #mutual pining #friends to more #hbo peacemaker #vigilante #story idea #crushing all over

3 notes · View notes

tuffduff · 4 years ago

Text

‘Til Death and Beyond (Slash x Reader)

Pairing: Slash x Reader

Words: 1,965

Request: anon! “Hi luv ! I was wondering if I could request an imagine with slash and the reader at their wedding reception. Just them being all cute and married together.”

A/N: Imagine all the boys giving speeches at your wedding...amazing. A sickly sweet and gushy wedding fic for you on this Sunday. Enjoy, my loves!

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers @dustnbones

“Oh, shit, Y/N.” Slash said under his breath to you as he reached out to lock your hand securely in his. “I don’t know how to dance.” He placed his other hand on your waist and you placed your free hand on his shoulder.

“Babe, it’s just a slow dance. We don’t have to break out a waltz or anything.” You reassured him affectionately as you swayed for your first dance, your long ball gown grazing against the floor.

“Can you imagine?” He chuckled. You took in the sight of him, still in leather pants, except they were nice leather pants. He had long ditched his tuxedo jacket and had his white button up unbuttoned—always unorthodox and free-spirited was your husband. Husband, you thought again, mulling over the word in your mind and feeling a wave of love. Suddenly, he grinned at you and brushed his fingers against your cheek.

“What, is there something wrong?” You asked anxiously; there were a lot of people watching. The last thing you wanted was something on your face or something amiss.

“No! You just look so fucking beautiful.”

Lenny Kravitz, Slash’s longtime friend, was singing “May This Be Love” by Jimi Hendrix and strumming guitar softly. You rested your head on Slash’s shoulder, getting teleported back to all the times you had listened to this song together. One of your first dates, curled together on his bed half-dressed, his lips lazily leaving kisses on your head. Whenever he was playing guitar and noticed you were listening, it was the song he would transition to. He would even sing for you, but only you.

There were moments often where you felt like you needed to pinch yourself. When you went out together and Slash was recognized and got swarmed by adoring fans. When you listened to Guns N’ Roses songs and the guitar solos hit and you were reminded the man playing them loved you. And then the private moments, your most cherished, when he would make sure you were fully covered by the blankets, those moments of love that reminded you just how lucky you really were.

You and Slash were soon seated right in the center of your reception area—a ritzy LA hotel reception area with shiny oak, warm candelabra lighting, grand stone columns and marble floors. Almost immediately, you jumped at the sound of Duff hitting his glass with a knife too loudly.

“Oops,” he muttered in amusement, before loudly continuing. “Hello, everybody, can I have a moment?” He was Slash’s best man; therefore, he would be starting off the speeches. You felt yourself grow apprehensive and almost nervous; it appeared Duff had indulged in cocktail hour. You just prayed he wasn’t too far gone yet as he turned his gaze to you and Slash fondly.

“I just wanna say, to the bride and groom, I’m so fucking happy for you two.” You pressed a smile, hoping your older relatives didn’t mind his language. Slash laughed good-naturedly. “No, seriously. I’ve been rooting for you guys...since the very beginning—Slash, man, don’t you remember? I see you nodding—don’t get embarrassed! Okay,” Duff turned to his audience excitedly, now armed with a story. “So, I remember—way back when—it was at one of our gigs at the Troubadour, or maybe it was the Whiskey. Anyways, we were about to start ‘Sweet Child’ and I had already noticed Slash was almost avoiding one side of the stage. He’s almost been playing the whole gig with his back turned to the crowd or kinda like, sideways. It was weird. Anyways, we’re about to start ‘Sweet Child’ and Slash keeps messing up.” You giggled and the rest of your audience laughed; you remembered this story very well.

Slash was now ducking his head in embarrassment, holding your hand in his tighter. “We had to restart like three times. Axl was furious, Izzy and I were just like ‘what is going on?’ It wasn’t until later I found out Slash had seen Y/N for the first time standing in crowd up front at this show.” You heard a wave of aww rise up from the crowd, and warm smiles in your direction. “He was so intimidated and nervous by her that he wouldn’t even go to that side of the stage, and he psyched himself out and everything. Anyways, I guess it all worked out, didn’t it?” Duff grinned, raising his glass. “I love you both, congrats!”

Steven stood up next enthusiastically, practically bouncing. “Slash, Y/N, you did it! Finally hitched, finally. It’s like Duff was saying, I was rooting for you both since the beginning. Have any of you guys ever noticed the difference between Slash when he’s with Y/N and when he’s not?” Some of the crowd chuckled, some were even nodding. “I’m serious! There’s a difference! And I’ve known this guy for a while. When he’s not, I mean he’s still Slash, but when she’s around it’s like the sun is shining, the angels are singing—he’s happier! And I like it when you’re around too, Y/N. I love you two! Good job!” Steven grinned, blowing you kisses. Your heart melted at his loving praise.

Axl stood next, calm and cool, one hand in his pocket. “I knew this was serious back...I guess it was a few years ago, I don’t remember when. Slash hates conflict. There was a fight, not a fight just a disagreement, between you two. Slash came storming into the studio and he was pretty upset, just withdrawn and occupied. I brushed it off as like a typical girl problem, I even told myself what does it matter anyways, it’s not a serious thing. You came then, busting into the studio with all five of us staring. Slash just lit up and you, Y/N—I’ll never forget this. You glared at Slash and said ‘I want this to work and I love you. Nothing is ever going to be greater than that and I don’t want to ever run away and not talk things through. You can keep the snakes.’” The crowd laughed, you and Slash laughed too—you had forgotten about this. “I was like ‘really? All of this over snakes?’ But that’s important to Slash, which therefore was important to you, Y/N. And I knew it was serious and right, because you’d never have an issue compromising for each other. And that’s something special.”

Izzy kept it short, smiling lightly and keeping his head down as he talked. “I can honestly just say I’ve never seen Slash happier than when he’s on the road reading a letter Y/N wrote him. I’ve even seen him drawing pictures of her, like a high school kid drawing pictures in his notebook, in his own little world. And Y/N, we’ve all come to love her too. This whole band owes a lot to her, and I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

All of those words were enough to make you feel complete, until you felt Slash stand up. You watched him, stunned; you both had agreed you weren’t going to make speeches since the thought of it made you both nervous. He glanced down at you and laughed as if knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Um, I know we both said we wouldn’t make a speech or anything, but...I had to.” He said. You knew he was nervous from the sheepish smile on his face and the way he kept running his hands through his hair and shifting his weight. Even his voice, which was slightly shaky. “I never had the slightest clue about what love was, until you. I wouldn’t be me now if it weren’t for the way you’ve loved me all this time. Not to get too sappy or anything, but there are times when it gets hard on the road and the thought of you is what keeps me going, you know? And it bugs me sometimes when people ask you what it’s like to be with a rock star. I’m just me, and that’s all you’ve ever needed. You’ve always treated me like that, like I’m just me. And really, it’s you that rocks my world.” He couldn’t keep from laughing through his words. You were crying and laughing and jumped to your feet as the crowd clapped and cheered and whistled.

“I love you!” You cried, throwing your arms around his neck. He held you tight, picking you up off your feet for a moment.

“I love you more, Mrs. Hudson.” He pulled back, a lopsided grin on his face. “That sounds kinda funny, doesn’t it?”

“No! Funny?” You asked, laughing and hitting his arm as he laughed too. “I love the way it sounds.”

The night went on with the dinner being served and guests coming over to congratulate you both. You got a dance with each of the guys and Slash danced a number of times with your mom and his own mother.

When it was time to throw your bouquet, your best friend caught it. The guys were much more excited to watch Slash retrieve your garter—if only for the chance to try and embarrass Slash.

He had a wobbly smile on his face as he got down to knees to a loud yell from Duff and a whistle from Axl. “Alright, here I go,” he laughed to you before he lifted your large skirt and stuck his head underneath.

“Hey, where’s the fun in that?” Axl booed. You felt Slash kiss up your leg from the privacy of underneath your dress and couldn’t help but blush as you tried to not make eye contact with his parents. His breath on your leg going higher and higher had you struggling not to squirm in your seat and you knew from the smirks of your friends they must have known too. Finally, Slash reappeared, holding your garter in between his teeth to raucous cheering. He tossed it into the crowd, where it landed on top of Izzy’s hat. He immediately began blushing with embarrassment at the attention the garter was garnering. You were just glad the attention was away from you.

Soon, it was time to cut the cake. It was a large tiered cake adorned in beautiful ruby red roses and intricate icing designs almost made to imitate a lace material. Slash didn’t trust himself to be the one to cut into the cake, so you did it with his hand holding yours. Obediently, you cut two pieces for yourselves and ate the first bite, giggling at each other and feeling silly. Slash’s eyes flashed at you and darted next to him to where Duff stood at his side. You glanced next to you, where Steven was smiling. Reading each other’s minds, you both slammed your pieces of cake respectively into his band mates’ faces. Slash couldn’t reach Duff’s face, so most of the cake ended up on his collar and tie. Steven’s shocked face staring back at you made you laugh, but he merely wiped the cake off his face with his finger and licked the icing, laughing too.

Duff took the pieces of fallen cake and tried to get Izzy, who smartly ducked to the back of the crowd. Slash had somehow ended up with cake on his face and you laughed to yourself, pulling him by the collar of his shirt towards you to kiss. You could taste the sweet icing on his lips and smiled into the kiss; he had his hands out in the air to avoid getting cake on your dress.

“I love you,” he told you as he pulled away, still laughing at Duff and Steven trying to rid themselves of cake. You smiled, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“And I love you.”

#slash gnr #slash imagine #guns n roses #gnr #gnr imagine #saul hudson #saul hudson imagine #classic rock #classic rock imagine #80s

257 notes · View notes

moonlit-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being Dr. Strange’s Apprentice

Stephen Strange x apprentice!reader

warnings:

a/n: for some reason i never retain any information from dr. strange stuff? so if this sucks its because i cant process it. i dont like how this one turned out i literally have no ideas

prompt: anonymous: “Hcs for being Dr. Strange’s apprentice?”

you were led to become strange’s apprentice after a tragedy and a brush with death

you woke in the hospital with bad news, there were no other survivors in the accident you had just experienced

while you were recovering, a doctor came in to visit you

“hi, y/n. im doctor christine palmer, and im so sorry for your loss. but i think i know a guy that could help you through this”

she gave you an address that you sort of recognized

“177A bleecker street? isnt that the funky looking house in greenwich?”

“something like that, just trust me on this one”

“thank you, doctor”

at first, you were a bit skeptical, but you tried your odds and hobbled to the place on your crutches

when you knocked, a man in blue robes and a red cape answered

“can i help you, y/n?”

“oh, hi? sorry, a doctor at metro-general sent me here”

“doctor palmer, im aware”

“ah, she called ahead?”

“no. come in”

you were very weirded out

“so, what is this place? and who are you?”

“you ask too many questions”

“oh, okay”

from the moment this wizard met you, he saw himself in you

lost, hopeless, upset with the way the world had treated you

“to answer your earlier question, i am doctor strange, the sorcerer supreme”

“oh...i dont know what that means”

he found you somewhat funny

“in time, you will”

he looked back on the teachings of his former master to show you what it meant to start your training

you honestly didn’t know what to think of the kaleidoscope of the world projected in front of you

“are you ready to commit to your training?”

“sure...i mean, i dont have anything else to do”

a valid reason, truly

“your leg will heal naturally, your mind, on the other hand...”

“i know, i gotta do some spiritual shit to help myself”

“thats one what to put it”

it took some time for you to understand what it was that dr. strange was teaching

but once you grasped the puzzling concepts, you excelled

there was a fine contrast between you and your master

he was much more sophisticated than you, but he had a sense of humor

you were on the bubbly side, always goofing around with your magic

“y/n, how many times must i remind you that opening portals into the freezer for the ice cream is misuse of your magic”

“oh, come on! i just cant resist the hunka-hulka burnin’ fudge!”

“just...just walk to the kitche—did you seriously just grab it while i was telling you not to?”

*through a mouthful* “sohwry”

wong watches the two of your sorcerers converse often, it’s one of the only things that really makes him laugh

calling the cloak of levitation “cloakie”

it drives strange crazy dbshahhsh

but cloakie answers to it just fine

during battles, it sometimes flies away from your master to give you a quick assist

“thanks cloakie!”

being assigned “homework”

so much reading it could’ve driven you mad

strange explaining the eye of agamotto and the time stone to you

“now listen, this comes before everything else, you must learn to protect yourself because i’ll let you die before i lose this”

“what a comforting thought”

stephen was pretty up front with you

he didn’t like the way that the ancient one kept so many secrets, so he informed you and as much as you should know

“those yellow gloves look like you’re getting ready to wash the dishes” (no hate i actually liked them lmao)

meeting thor and loki!

“i think i’ll just send loki through the looping portal while i take care of business with his brother, would you mind keeping him some company?”

“i’d love to!”

and then you gracefully fell with him, he didn’t enjoy your presence very much

stephen would tell you about his life before he became a sorcerer

all was well for a while after that but then lmaooo a famous scientist just happened to crash through the roof

“woah, you’re bruce banner! love your ice cream”

“not now, y/n”

“my bad”

meeting tony stark and just kind of...not vibing with him

but something about him seemed familiar

“no shit, sherlock” (seriously im mad i this wasn’t in a3 or a4)

epic battle on the streets of new york that led to your master being captured by aliens

you and wong went back to protect the sanctum, but you pitched in to help fight the real battle

much to the dismay of wong

and then wong dusted, so you were left to protect the sanctum

you missed your master very much

in the next five years, you did all you could to learn about your magic

and your skills proved spectacular

you suspected that you might need to take dr. strange’s place for good

until wong reappeared right in front of you

“hello again, y/n. did you miss me?”

“miss you? wong, i’ve been dying over here!”

“that seems like an exaggeration”

helping to open portals around the world (and galaxy) to get everyone to the big battle

and finding your master, all had become right once again

“doctor strange!”

“y/n! i have to say, im impressed at how you handled yourself after thanos”

“you mean youre happy i didn’t destroy the sanctum or become interested in. the dark dimension?”

“more or less”

a teamup to remember between master and apprentice

returning to the sanctum with strange

“did you move the relics around??”

“...i wanted to remodel”

i cant think of anything else???? im sorry shhshshshsh

#doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

430 notes · View notes

lanzhans · 4 years ago

Text

Zoya fidgets with the necklace at her collar, a thin gold chain that is all she has left of her mother. It is less of a nervous gesture, more anticipation, and it has been years since she has set foot in this old town. It has changed a bit but not to the point of unrecognition. The cobblestoned path remains the same however, and Zoya is pulled into a reminiscence from her high school days, walking down this same path to the coffee shop on Main Street. Her caffeine addiction still remains but she doubts the coffee from the city is nearly as good as the one from here.

Her breath puffs out into a cloud of moisture and Zoya watches it dissipate. She cannot say she has missed the biting cold of this town but she has grown accustomed to it, something she hasn’t lost even though she hasn’t set foot here in years. It is nostalgic, and it brings a soft smile to her face.

It’s been close to ten years but the high school is still the same. A massive red brick building, covered in spray paint from what the school board had deemed “vandalists''. Zoya thinks the paint is nice, however, unlike the board, who believe it has marred the school’s exterior, when really it is really quite beautiful. There is a mural of a piano and notes flowing from its keys, and one of a locked heart seeped in darkness. It keeps the school alive, in her very respectable opinion.

She hears a crackling of leaves behind her and turns to meet a very smug grin, one that she has not expected to meet, one she hasn’t seen in years. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Nazyalensky.”

Nikolai Lantsov.

She does not reply, instead glares at him, mustering all of her get-the-hell-out-of-here energy she has. Zoya has not seen her former next-door neighbor since she went to college and she would have very much liked to keep it that way. But Lantsov shows no notion of leaving, instead he leans against the giant oak tree in the courtyard. “I’m hurt, Nazyalensky,” he continues, mock-wounded. The hurt in his voice is so exaggerated it is comical, fitting to his personality. “You come all the way out here and don’t even visit?”

“And why on Earth would I do that, Lantsov?” She lifts an eyebrow. She hates that she has to look up to him, given that he was very, very tall and Zoya was, well, not short per se, but tiny by comparison.

His hand very dramatically flies to his heart, and she remembers their high school production of Hamlet, starring none other than the blonde-headed idiot in front of her. It is a pity that the death scene had only been an act. “I’m wounded, tsaritsa.”

And there it is- his childhood nickname for her, a name that she has been called over swing sets and over family dinners pretending to be civil. Zoya suppresses the urge to laugh, but Nikolai picks up on it anyway and gives her a grin that would have melted the heart of any other person. It does not melt hers (she has to deny that there was a corner of her heart that twinges in something akin to endearment seeing the look upon his face). She rolls her eyes, and he picks himself off the ground, brushing dirt that has gotten on his trousers. “Why are you so dressed up?” she asks wryly, finally taking note of his gray suit.

His all-too-familiar smirk reappears. “Why, only for you, Nazyalensky.”

·☾·

Zoya rummages through her suitcase, silently cursing Genya for telling her to wear something “pretty”. The redhead herself is lounging on Zoya’s bed, red-varnished nails glinting in the afternoon sunlight and her large wire-rimmed glasses sitting atop her playfully messy curls. To anyone who didn’t know her, the look would be casual but Zoya knows that every aspect has been carefully done, though the glasses were likely going to go before they met Genya’s fiance David.

“Why don’t you pick something yourself?” she asks drily. Genya lifts her head to look at her with appraised eyebrows.

She adjusts her glasses so they are now framing her deep amber eyes perfectly and joins Zoya to look at her suitcase in distaste. “Well, clearly it seems you are unable to function without my help. How ever do you live without me?” Genya huffs playfully. Zoya resists the urge to make a face at her.

“Luckily, that is a circumstance I will never meet,” she says primly instead.

“You should be grateful for it, my darling Zoya.” Zoya will never admit it, hell, she’ll deny it a thousand times, but she silently agrees.

·☾·

Zoya has nearly forgotten the taste of good food, food that is not merely edible but food that is enjoying to eat. It is one of the (now that she thinks about it, many) downsides of living in a large city. Perhaps it is the homesickness she has always denied herself, mixed with a little bit of nostalgia, but it feels like the best dinner she has ever eaten.

They are sitting in the dining room of Lantsov’s house (though it really can’t be called a house, it is so large that Zoya, despite having visited it countless times, still gets lost. She, Genya, and David have dubbed it “The Little Palace”), and the affair is a mix of casual and formal. It serves as an early high school reunion of sorts, although most of the people present have kept in touch. They mingle regardless, and Zoya can hear laughter and the voices blend all into each other until they are nothing but white noise, fading away...away…

And then they are back again, blaring at full volume and it is too loud, too, too loud and her pulse is racing even though she hasn’t exerted herself. The transition is jarring. Her head suddenly feels like it is splitting apart, cracked down the middle and she is having one of the worst headaches of her life. She fumbles for her purse before realizing that she has borrowed one of Genyas’ for tonight, and none of her medication is in it.

She curses vehemently.

A part of her manages to pull together, however, and she is able to make it to the porch and sit on the swing hanging from it. A dry part of her notices that even the swing is fancy. Quite expectant of the Lantsovs, having everything in top quality. It was what they were known for, after all, being the richest people in the town. Though perhaps money didn’t buy everything, considering their relationship with Lantsov.

Her headache, which had previously dulled a bit, is back in full force and distracts her from her thoughts of the Lantsovs. The pain is splitting, and once again the world feels like too much to handle. Voices from the front yard are rattling in her head like pennies in a glass jar, and quite unfortunately, Zoya’s head is the glass jar. She buries her head in her hands to try and dim the sheer volume of it all but it only helps so much.

Then there is a gentle tapping on her shoulder, and she believes the person is also attempting to speak to her but her head is such a mess she does not register the words. Zoya lifts her head and she is met with a pair of wide hazel eyes reflecting a lit chandelier. “Lantsov,” she attempts to grumble but the words are lost in the noise. He seems to understand what she is attempting to say, however, as he grins at her, that same grin she has seen a thousand times before, but it is somewhat charming in the moonlight. She blames it on her state of mind and not in any part on Lantsov himself.

He sits what is an awkward distance away from her, clearly attempting to give her space while still being able to be there to check up on her. Zoya grudgingly gives him points for the matter. She looks at him, too tired to speak. Lantsov must be feeling exceptionally perceptive today because he understands her once more and gestures towards the Mercedes parked in the exceptionally large driveway. She nods, and he helps her up, albeit a little awkwardly.

Her head is still fairly hazy but she seems to have recovered most of her senses. Lantsov lets her choose the music (which wins him more points though Zoya refuses to admit it) and his lips quirk up into an amused smile when he hears the heavy metal. “I didn’t think you’d be into this kind of stuff, tsaritsa.” It is the first thing he has said to her tonight and it is lighthearted, teasing.

She studies him quizzically. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugs, and Zoya arches her eyebrows.

Lantsov very suddenly starts laughing. His hazel eyes are alight with mirth, and his laughter turns into very high-pitched wheezing. Zoya mutters a very colorful curse.

“Lantsov for saints’ sake stop laughing, you're going to get us killed! What on Earth is so funny-”

“I just realized….I don’t…..know…..where to….drop you off……” is what he manages to get out in between bursts of laughter. At this, her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, and she is holding back inane laughter of her own.

“Why didn’t you just ask, idiot?” Zoya’s voice is shaky, amusement and a hint of endearment evident in her tone. Lantsov gives her no answer, but a sheepish grin spreads across his face. She shakes her head mock-exasperatedly. “I’m staying at Genya’s.” It is an address familiar to both of them, so many high school days have been spent there.

With the heavy metal blaring in the background, she lets her mind wander to other things, but her thoughts seem to always circle back to the idiot driving next to her. It is strange, she has not seen him in years yet he remains unchanged, the same irritating person she has grown up with. Though perhaps he has lost a little bit of what made him so irritating because looking at him now, she is feeling a little fond. Zoya can remember when they were children, he could always be found at her aunt’s house because he hated staying at home. She’d barely given him the time of day back then, but most of her childhood had been spent with him nonetheless.

Reminiscing sends a pang of homesickness through heart even though she is here. Zoya is reminded of how much she loves this town. She wishes she had visited more often, and promises herself that she will visit whenever she can.

The car stops in the driveway of Genya’s house. The headlights illuminate the door in stark contrast to the pitch-black darkness of the night. Zoya steps out of the car, and before she has the time to really think the invitation to come inside tumbles from her mouth in a breathless rush. “Would you like to come inside for coffee?”

He grins. “Why, of course I’ll join you, Nazyalensky.”

Genya, of course, is still at the Lantsov manor so it is just the two of them in the house. The first thing Zoya reaches for after slipping off her jacket is the coffee machine, which she shouldn’t considering that it is so late but it has become habit for her. “I see your caffeine addiction hasn’t left you,” Lantsov remarks, a smile in his voice though she doesn’t look up to check.

She doesn’t reply, being too busy with her coffee so he continues. “You know, I think you single-handedly kept the coffee shop running for two years. Half of what I was paid came from your orders.” To this, Zoya huffs, mock-offended, but she is smiling.

She brings a cup for him too. It is red, with a small fox painted in gold. He takes it from her gingerly and winces slightly when his fingers come in contact with the surface of the hot mug. Lantsov takes a whiff and his nose wrinkles in distaste. “How on Earth do you drink this stuff?”

Zoya gives him a scathing look, and he recoils in mock fear. “Don’t you dare disrespect the coffee.”

Lantsov sighs dramatically. “Only for you, tsaritsa, only for you.” He takes a deep breath, plugs his nose (a gesture which Zoya does not appreciate and she glares daggers at him but he only winks in response) and drains it all in one gulp. Which is a mistake since the coffee is burning hot.

“Idiot,” Zoya mutters but makes no move to help him. He has dragged himself into this situation after all, and she does not clean up the messes of irritating blonde imbeciles.

His face does, eventually, return to a color that is not as red as the plastic cherries that the bakeries in the city place on their cakes. She has since then finished her own cup, but unlike him, through careful sips that she somehow does not choke on despite the overwhelming urge to burst out laughing.

He stays longer than he should but neither he nor Zoya entertain the fact that it is very, very late. Hours have slipped away, spent reminiscing. It is nice to just sit here and talk and listen. There are an endless number of things that they talk about, ranging from old memories to their respective jobs.

Zoya will deny it to her grave but she realizes she has missed him.

She eventually tires, and when she wakes up, she is met with a Genya’s appraised eyebrows. She realizes that she has been sleeping on Lantsov’s shoulder. He has fallen asleep as well but she makes no motion to wake him.

Genya’s eyes gleam in triumph. “David owes me so much money.”

27 notes · View notes

myblueeyedbuggers · 4 years ago

Text

My Boys

Chapter 9

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: Slow Start, Language, Tiny bit of Fluff

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change

So, hi again…I’m gonna be completely honest I’ve practically had no time to sit down and write for the past couple of weeks, college rained down tons of assignments and work kept asking me to do extra shifts. Hopefully you all understand the delay in updates, I’m determined to finish this book for you all, anyways I’ll shut up Enjoy 😊

Whoever decided to wake me up and drag me away from the glorious land of sleep will suffer my early morning wrath, slowly I opened my eyes and the outline of two very stupid and annoying boys filled my vision. “Have you two never heard the saying don’t tickle a sleeping dragon? I quite clearly need my beauty sleep!” why is it every time I threaten to murder these two they just start laughin’? what the hell is wrong with em?!, “ Well good mornin’ to you too doll face, as much as I’d like to stay here and trade threats mama wants you outta bed for breakfast so get ya butt moving” My eyes narrowed at Bucky as he started to follow Steve outta the room, the smirk on his face widening as I reluctantly moved out of bed.

I’ve only been here a week and I’ve nearly killed him at least 50 times, wait that’s not something I should be proud of is it? in my defence Barnes can be a right little shit when he wants to be! Two days ago, he thought it’d be funny to drench me with water in the middle of the day, it’s safe to say he didn’t climb down the tree for a fair few hours. The smell of bacon and pancakes made me completely forget whatever the hell I was talking about, I shouldn’t have rushed pulling my pants on cause my dumbass failed to see that the left leg got caught on the draw knob and I was once again hugging the floor with my bloody face. Great that didn’t hurt at all!

Right let’s check for damage, bruises? Nope scratches? Nope pride and dignity? That went a long time ago who am I kidding? “Y/N You comin down or what?!” Jesus Christ that boy has a voice like a flipping fog horn, I wouldn’t be surprised if they heard Steve in queens! “Yeah give me a minute will ya! No need to get your panties in a twist Stevie” I’m pretty sure I can hear Becca and Bucky laughin’ from up here. Okay enough time’s been spent getting dressed, at this rate the boys will have inhaled all the food…the thought alone is enough to terrifying!

“Right you lads better of left me at least one pancake and 3 strips of bacon or they’ll be hell to pay later” as a rule most people say good morning but I like to start the day with a decent dashing of threats and insults, cause I’m a friendly person…okay nope that’s a big pile of bullc**p and I know it. “Well mornin to you too y/n, the pancakes are on the table and the bacons on Bucks plate feel free to take some” a muffled sound of protest could be heard over my laughter as Bucky shot Steve a look of utter disbelief. “I think I’ll skip on the bacon then Stevie, by the looks of it Bucks already drooled all over it” Steve and I shared a look before we burst out laughing, Buck was glaring at the both of us with syrup dribbling down his chin and I gotta be honest it looked hilarious. “You guys done laughin’ at me yet or would you like to gang up on me some more?” is this boy dumb or somethin’? “Buck, I’d be on my deathbed and my final words would be some form of insult towards you”.

And there I go signing my death sentence again, at this point Steve wasn’t even on his chair anymore, instead he was lying on the floor completely pissin’ himself laughing while Bucky slowly stood up and started walking round the table. “Oh would you look at the time! Gotta go guys my appointment with the grim reaper’s in a minute!” hey y/n maybe it’s time you start running?! With a small shriek I turned and bolted out the backdoor with a pretty pissed off Barnes boy on my tail. The sunlight blinded me for a couple of seconds, so I was kinda running without knowing what was around me…and as per usual life decided to firmly kick my ass using the form of a bloody tree. A sharp stinging sensation spread across my entire face, huh reminds me of when I ran into that door…only that didn’t hurt half as much and there wasn’t an annoying brunette prick absolutely creasing with laughter behind me. I’m pretty sure that in the process of the tree b**tch slappin’ me I cut the left side of my cheek…oh would you look at that there’s the blood that should have stayed inside me, I couldn’t stop the small groan of pain that slipped outta my mouth, the lower half of my back was more than likely battered to all hell and the stinging in my cheek wasn’t helping either.

Apparently, the sound of my suffering seemed to break the idiot outta his little laughin’ session, I raised my eyebrows at him when it finally dawned on him that I hurt myself and that was pretty funny, all the colour drained from Bucky’s face, his eye’s widened when he noticed the lovely new edition to my face and pretty soon he reached a hand out to help me up. Such a gentleman… that’s if you replace the gentle bit with idiotic. The second I was on my feet, he pulled me into a hug and began checking my face and head, I’m hoping to god he can’t see my flamin’ cheeks cause I know for a fact he would never let me live that down. To be completely honest all I could concentrate on was the gentle touch on his hands on my cheek and the look on Bucky’s face, his eyes were completely focused on my cut. How have I never noticed that his eyes have the smallest flecks of green in them? Or how his dimples show when he frowns?… more importantly why do I feel both excited and terrified but somehow warm at the same time?

My little daze was broken when I realised that his lips were movin’ and I had no idea what the hell he just said, but he must of asked me a question cause he was lookin’ at me waitin’ for his answer. Bollocks. “What’d you say Buck?” Jesus Christ could I have been anymore obvious?! Maybe I should make a giant banner and smack him in the face with it, oh for godsake am I blushin’ again?!, the small smirk on his face grew into a sh*t eating grin as he threw his arm around my shoulders and dragged me back to the house. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you y/n were completely blow away by the masterpiece that is my face” oh great I’ve managed to inflate his ego even more, “Actually I wasn’t gonna say anythin’ but you’ve got a little somethin’ stuck in your front teeth” and just like that all the cockiness drained outta his body.

The arm around my shoulder disappeared rather quickly, to my amusement the boy next to me did as well, I could feel the little smirk on my face as I carried on walkin’ forward as he stayed behind more than likely doin’ that cute stupid thing with his eyes. Wait what did I just say?! What the heck is wrong with me these days? Its like a flippin’ alien’s taken over me and made me into a normal girl! .It feels all kinds of wrong. A sudden cough disrupts my inner monologue, my eyes roll to the sky as the smirk reappears on my face, I can’t help the laugh that escapes me when my gaze meets Bucky’s. He was stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed as I continued to laugh and slowly his face formed a pout as he waited for me to finish completely wetting myself with laughter. “You done yet?” his brow was pulled in as he tried to fight off the smile, “Do I actually have somethin’ in my teeth or were you just being a bully?”.

“Nah, just needed to keep your ego in check before it inflated and carried you away into the wind” Buck looked like I’d just shot him in the chest, I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughin’ at him as I turned and started walkin’ back to the house. “Ya know you can be a real piece of work when ya wanna be don’t ya?” thank you captain obvious! “I know I am, you know I do it out of love don’t ya?” I shot him a small smile as I wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him in for a side hug, Bucky shook his head with a small smile, but accepted the hug anyway. After that we stayed in a comfortable silence as we walked back towards the house, his arm never pulled away from me till we got inside, that was until Mrs Barnes walked into the kitchen and saw the cut on my cheek, to simply put it she completely freaked out.

I watched her quickly shoo everyone outta the kitchen, she somehow managed to pull a chair out and sit me down while grabbing a towel and bandages, question after question was fired at me while she gently started cleaning to cut. After a while the conversation died out, Mama B was completely fixated on cleaning the cut and if I’m honest the silence was peaceful, well it was for the 5 seconds it lasted.

Bucky burst through the door lookin’ like someone was trying to murder him, not that I could blame them, 2 seconds later Steve and Becca burst through the door armed with…wait is that eyeshadow and lipstick? I watched as Bucky backed into the corner, his eyes wide as he begged them both of them for mercy, whatever he did to piss the pair off clearly warranted this man hunt and there is no way in hell I wanted to stop it just before it got good. Soon enough Becca and Steve some how managed to pin down Buck, and despite the many protests, the pair managed to smear the lipstick all over his face and dump most of the eyeshadow in his hair.

I tried my hardest not to laugh I swear, but he looked like a very disturbed and demented fairy princess and I couldn’t hold it in anymore, soon enough we were all having a little laugh at the poor bloke, eventually Buck saw the funny side of it and he too joined in with the mess that was the Barnes family.

So, I’m gonna be honest here this is more of a filler chapter/character development hopefully it didn’t suck as much as I think it did XD Okay I’ll stop rambling, Thanks for reading!

Rose Xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

13 notes · View notes

pyrotrolls · 3 years ago

Text

Ever so casually writes a few hundred words about former matesprites Badaui and Vednir, who watched each other be killed, and then remet 400 sweeps later, and how they coped with what they thought the other woulda wanted them to do with their lives and spoiler it’s not what they thought the other would want. Growth and shit. idk.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/14kpYy8CN0b43MON47TneMHAMVTE1iFEUJSb0cUL_pgg/edit?usp=sharing google link for easier reading

“Vednir?”

He wasn’t sure who he was seeing, his name hadn’t been said like that in over four hundred sweeps. He whipped around, eyes locking with the source of the voice.

First thing he noticed was the missing horn, a hat so delicately covering what was there. Then the scar along her throat, and how it went down, disappearing into her dress. It lined up with the memory of watching her get gutted in front of him.

“Badaui,” he whispered. It’s funny- he dreamed of a moment like this. Where the love of your life reappears from the dead to hold you, to whisper your name and tell you it’s all okay- but this was different. This was like two lovers made so distant by time. As the years go on, the lover coming back would be coming back to an entirely different man.

He gulped as he crossed the crowded streets to her. She scooped him into a hug- but she smelled different now, felt different. Still, Vednir buried his face against the crook of her neck and sighed. “I saw you die,” his voice was steady.

“And I saw your body floating.” She countered, pulling back to look at him, tilting his chin up to study his aged face, aged from stress more so than actually aging since being undead took care of the eternal youth dream. Vednir pulled away, and they stood there, unsure how to move. Once perfectly in sync, now strangers to each other.

“What have you been doing all this time?” He sounded accusing, and flinched when she pursed her lips. Their conversations once came so easily, now they both seemed to be grasping at straws to think of the words to say to the ghost of their loved one.

“Getting revenge, and yourself?”

Vednir squinted, his heart torn to hear the blood thirst in her words, the equal accusation from her voice. He kept her gaze steady before he answered “healing.”

“Healing? And have you healed then?” Badaui asked, but the venom laced in her words wasn’t missed. She pulled back, eyes narrowed. Healing? Oh good for him!

Vednir scoffed, but feeling shamed to look away. Her aura was so different now, tainted by trauma, and a new way she carried herself like even now, with him, she stood behind a carefully built wall with an even more carefully constructed mask. But even with that mask, he could taste the anger bubbling from her.

“I hunted for every pirate who was on that ship with us, to avenge Esplin, to avenge you, and you did what? Meditate a little? Do you feel at peace, Vednir? Have you moved on?”

“Badaui, I saw you die.”

“Well I’m alive now.” She gestured to herself. But she couldn’t have been further from the truth. A woman scorned and fueled only by making someone else pay for ghosts that no longer existed.

“No you aren’t, my love,” Vednir grabbed her hand and put it against his lips. “I don’t know how you survived, but this isn’t the Badaui I knew.” His Badaui was bright, with long hair and sharp eyes, but a smile that gave her away every poker game, his Badaui laughed often, and had wrinkles by her eyes from it-

“Did you mourn me, like I mourned you?” She whispered, pulling her hand away.

“Yes,” Vednir answered, voice wavering. Of course he mourned her. He was eaten alive with grief, traveling to find purpose. Isolated and lost without her- but he learned to move on. To find a purpose and reason to travel, not just to run. It seems like Badaui hadn’t done that yet. Or wouldn’t even consider it a possibility.

“I dreamed of finding you in the streets, of embracing you, of finishing our lives again-“

“You gotten soft, where’s the man who killed for pennies, who took what he wanted and wasn’t so careful and timid like the man standing before me?” Badaui interrupted, shaking her head. Maybe this was still his Badaui, but it was him who was different? Had he changed so much he couldn’t recognize the reality of his love’s cruelness? They say in death you idolize the characteristics you liked in them, and the longer and longer it’s been, the more and more you’ve shaped them into something else entirely in your mind.

“Time changes us,”

“Not me.”

“Not you…”

“I loved you, I fought for your honor, your memory,” she petted his hair back, looking at him with remorse. “I continued to avenge you, how could you have been at peace knowing I was killed? Did you do anything? Did you even humor the idea I was alive? Did you just see me thrown over the ship and think that was it? Start some new life as a nomad?”

“I don’t know if we ever really knew each other,” Vednir chimed, not answering any of her questions as the dawning realization of who he had been in love with kicked in. He once would have done anything for her, would and did die for her. Yet looking at her now, they couldn’t have been more opposite from each other. How could she want him to stay stuck on an event he couldn’t change? Why didn’t she want to see him be at peace? He would have wanted that for her- and it was clear now she never felt it. Might not ever feel it.

“That’s your answer? You’re breaking up with me?” Badaui asked with a barking laugh. “Do you know the lengths I went to overcome our horror? The captains I’ve killed for you.”

“You didn’t do it for me, you did it to feel better for yourself. I’m sorry Badaui, we’re different- I’m different. I will always love the memory of you, cherish it. But I can’t love you as you are.”

“This is how you want to finish us?”

“We were finished on that boat. It just took us four hundred sweeps to know it.”

#pyro writes #vednir #badaui #they both find out esplin is alive too and just go 'eh alright'#get fucked esplin

3 notes · View notes

minuteminx · 4 years ago

Text

Revolutionary

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

Chapter Two: When Freedom Calls

Chapter Summary: The Museum of Freedom feels like the end of the line until another one of Mama Murphy's visions comes true.

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[AO3 Link]

“The first lesson a revolutionary must learn is that he is a doomed man.”

- Huey P. Newton

Concord, October 2287

A loud barrage of knocks thundered against the uncomfortably flimsy wooden door, the millionth barrage of knocks in the past two days. Preston was actually impressed that the barricade continued to hold out as long as it had considering the number of raiders who’d thrown themselves against the door, attempting to ram it open. A few of them stomped away with—most likely— dislocated shoulders and the more forceful negotiation tactics simmered down into hilarious attempts to persuade him and the four remaining Quincy settlers out of their makeshift museum bunker.

The Museum of Freedom turned out to be a pretty decent spot to hole up, with its remotely controlled security gates and maze-like remnants of hallways. It had managed to keep the raiders busy for most of the night as they attempted to navigate their way in the dark, spending ammo on mannequins conveniently dressed in colonial attire. Under different circumstances, Preston might have found it funny, but he could hardly bring himself to even be relieved, let alone amused. After nearly a month of traveling, and losing far too many people under his care, it was all he could do to not surrender.

“Come on,” whined one raider with a deep, gravely voice, “We just want to talk to the old broad. Let us in!”

“Not by the hair on our chinny chin chins,” Sturges mumbled absently and under his breath as he fiddled with a locked terminal he’d been trying to hack. Unsuccessfully, so far.

“ Are you fucking kidding me? Jokes?” Marcy scolded. “There are raiders outside trying to kill us.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we built our house out of sticks this time,” Preston remarked dryly, walking over to the door that led out to the balcony and cracking it open to take a peek. More raiders littered the streets, hiding behind stacks of crates and rusted old cars and shooting at the museum’s exterior. A laser musket glowed in one of their hands and he closed the door. His last comrade had been shot just as the last of the settlers entered into the museum and now the damned raiders were using the man’s weapon, a gut-wrenching disgrace.

When he turned back around, he found Marcy glowering at him, arms crossed. She wasn’t crying, but he could tell she wanted to, and he could hardly blame her. Despite all their efforts, Kyle hadn’t made it. His leg wound had become infected, and his parents had to bury him in a shallow grave just on the outskirts of Jamaica Plain. Nothing about the situation fair, but the loss of a child in the middle of it all—he couldn’t imagine— but it wasn’t his fault that they were currently without sanctuary. He’d done the best he could to protect everyone, and while he prided himself on patience, Marcy was wearing him thin. He shook his head and turned back to Sturges.

“Goddammit,” shouted the mechanic at the terminal screen that suddenly went blank.

“No luck,” Preston asked, watching green text reappear in a crawl across the screen.

“It locked me out again.” Sturges sighed. “I don’t know if I can crack it.”

Preston clapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been at it all night.”

“Thanks, boss,” he answered and collapsed back into a chair by the desk, rubbing at his eyes.

Preston would’ve rubbed his own eyes, too, if he thought it would help, but his exhaustion was more than even a decent night’s sleep and hot meal could fix.

More pounding rang out against the door, this time accompanied by a threat of violence if those inside did not open up. It was not exactly a convincing offer, considering that the raiders would be violent whether he opened the door or not. He pinched the bridge of his nose and attempted to ignore both the obnoxious men at the door and Marcy’s audible complaints about his “pathetic attempts at playing a hero.” It startled him when a gentle pressure fell on his arm and he jumped, opening his eyes to see the old woman smiling up at him.

“Hey Mama,” he said, still blinking, “Everything okay?”

“We’re going to get out of this,” she remarked emphatically at the wall just behind his head. Her eyes never focused when she was like that. “I saw it. We’re going to find our Sanctuary.”

“Where’d you even find chems in a place like this?”

“Hush, Preston. Just listen,” she said, holding a crooked finger to her mouth. “I saw… an angel in golden ones and a sea of bright, bright blue. Right place, wrong time, to save us! To save you.”

Those last words were the twist of a knife already lodged deep in his chest, one he’d been pretending wasn’t there, one he’d assumed no one else could see. How had Mama heard his constant, nagging wonder if death would be better than continuing his exhausting, hopeless battle to survive. Had he worn his hopelessness on his back the entire time, or did the old woman really have psychic powers? Skeptical as he was, he couldn’t count her vision out. He didn’t really want to. If some “angel” wanted to conveniently fall from the sky and save their asses, he might actually get religious.

“Well,” he said, “Let’s hope our help shows up soon. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold these raiders off.”

The old woman’s mouth twisted into a wry grin and she squeezed his arm. “Thank you for helping us, kid. The others can’t see what I’ve seen yet, but they will.”

Preston watched as Mama shuffled back to her seat on the couch and eased down, leaving her words to ring in his head. He wanted to believe in her visions, to have something to put his faith in, but he’d already lost so much. The Commonwealth had robbed him of his family, his role models, his friends, and now his last shred of hope. Even if they managed to escape the museum and make it to safety, what then? He was the last of the Minutemen, and he couldn’t do it all on his own. He wouldn’t.

Gunshots outside interrupted his thoughts, followed by the low growl and furious bark of a dog. Dogmeat. He had forgotten that he sent the hound out to find help, hoping that the raiders wouldn’t notice a stray mutt wandering around Concord, and they hadn’t, at least not when he’d gone out just an hour or so before. That they shot at him now must mean he had someone with him. Preston glanced over at Mama who smirked, then to the rest of the settlers who wore stunned expressions. Heart pounding, he rushed back to the balcony door, swung it open and stepped outside to investigate.

Some commotion it was, the small cluster of raiders he’d seen before all with their backs toward the museum, and instead aiming their weapons at Dogmeat, who stood protectively in front of a crouching figure dressed in a bright blue vault suit. He could tell little else about this person, other than the coppery red hair that peeked out behind Dogmeat’s fur and that they were armed with nothing but a security baton. He tried not to get ahead of himself and believe that this was the same person Mama had seen in her vision, but his pulse jumped anyway. Personal savior or not, this mysterious stranger was a goner if he didn’t do something and fast.

His hands tightened around his musket as he lifted it, aimed, and turned the crank. If there were ever a time when he wished he had an automatic weapon, this was it. He shot the raiders closest to the figure first, each with a slow, precise blast to deadly areas. Head, chest, ribs, each shot filling his nose with the scent of burning ozone, each coming with a flashbulb memory of Quincy, of Lexington. He kept his breath steady and scanned the area. Once he was reasonably confident it was clear enough for the woman— he could see she was a woman now— to make it inside, he called out to her.

“Ma’am!” Dogmeat barked in response but the woman looked around from side to side, clearly disoriented and unable to tell where his voice came from, so he shouted again and waved. “Up here.”

Dogmeat nudged at the woman’s thigh and barked in Preston’s direction until her gaze lifted up to the balcony. He could see the frightened suspicion in her eyes, the doubt that he was anymore trustworthy than those who had their guns pointed at her. Lowering his weapon and raising his hand, he continued. “Listen, I know you’re scared, and you’ve got no reason to trust me, but more of those guys are coming and you need to get inside.”

The woman looked around her, then to the dog who nudged her again and wagged his tail. Worry churned in his stomach as he noticed more raiders approaching from the outskirts of town. Agitated and desperate, he yelled again. “Come on! I’m trying to help you out. Grab a weapon off of one of those raiders and hurry.” He didn’t like being forceful, or barking orders at anyone, especially not a frightened and confused woman who probably hadn’t factored fighting raiders into her schedule for the day; however, he had no choice. She was going to get herself killed if she stood there any longer.

To his relief, his demand seemed to snap her out of whatever shock she was in and back to reality where she looked up at him and nodded frantically before grabbing a pistol and some ammo off one of the bodies near her feet, and headed inside. He knew he should have warned her about the raiders that were in the museum, but he wasn’t thinking clearly, and it would be easier for her to take out a couple of the goons at a time in the narrow hallways than to survive being surrounded outside. He returned to the room where the others waited expectantly for him to give them a recap.

“It’s a woman,” he explained, “Looks like she’s from a vault.”

“Oh thank God,” Marcy spat, “Exactly what we needed! An out-of-touch Vault Dweller who doesn’t know shit about surviving out here.”

Preston clenched his fists, biting his tongue so hard he thought it might bleed. Losing his temper with Marcy wouldn’t do anyone any good, no matter how much he wanted to just explode. Jun sunk down against a desk on the far side of the room, hands in his hair, rocking back and forth, and Sturges hung his head. The only person who seemed to be pleased with the latest turn of events was Mama Murphy, who winked at Preston and leaned back comfortably against the couch cushions.

The wait was excruciating, each uproar and explosion of gunfire tightening the knots in his abdomen. If he were honest with himself, Marcy was right. The odds of some lady from a vault, of all places, surviving the hostile maze of raiders with nothing but a pistol and a dog were slim. The odds that she might be able to get them safely out of the museum were non-existent. If she made it up to the third floor, it would be pure luck. If she managed to rescue him and the settlers, well, he might have to reconsider his opinion about miracles. Still, the gunshots crept closer and closer, slowly but surely, as he paced around the room. He stopped when the men who’d been terrorizing them just outside the room stirred.

“Well, well, what do we got here,” asked one of the men, “Are you lost, little g—”

Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by a gunshot, and the thud of his body collapsing to the floor rang out past the door. Alarmed, the other guy who’d been outside shouted, “You killed ‘im! You bitch.”

Another shot rang out, followed by a gargled yelp, and then nothing. There was silence for what felt like an eternity, broken only by the sound of Dogmeat pawing at the door. Preston hurried and moved the barricade of desks and chairs out of the way, unlocked the door, and pulled it open.

His breath caught at the sight of the young woman standing in the doorway. She looked to be close to his age, with short-cropped, red hair that was in disarray and caked with splattered blood at various stages of drying, along with the rest of her. She was wet with sweat, and stood tall despite the exhaustion in her dark brown eyes. Her gaze locked with his and she scowled.

“I am not a bitch,” she grumbled, placing a hand on her hip.

Preston flinched, not expecting those to be the first words out of her. Cautiously, and with a grin tugging at a corner of his mouth, he ventured a reply. “I, uh, didn’t say you were, ma’am.”

“No, but I just wanted it on the record because those…” she trailed off looking back out into the hallway as if the word she was searching for would be there.

“Raiders?”

“Yeah. Those assholes.” She shook her head and turned to face him again. “They kept calling me a bitch, and that’s just… hurtful.”

“Well,” Preston began, not exactly sure how to bridge the conversation from name-calling to the need to get the hell out of the museum, “I don’t know who you are, but your timing’s impeccable. I’m Preston Garvey. Commonwealth Minutemen.”

A confused expression crossed the woman’s face, and when he offered her his hand, she glanced between his eyes and his hand tentatively, before shaking it. At the touch, she trembled, and when he moved to pull his hand away her grip tightened, eyes filling with tears.

“Whoa. Hey,” he said gently, keeping a hold of her hand as he led her over to the chair where Sturges still sat, and motioned for him to get up. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, releasing his hand as she sat down and took a few deep breaths. Then, she smiled up at him. “It’s a long story.”

“I’d love to hear it.” Preston knelt down so that he wasn’t looming over her and offered her the most reassuring smile he could. “But first, we have to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

She nodded. “Right.”

“What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Charlotte. Charlotte Smart,” she answered and then cleared her throat and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “But, um, I go by Charlie. You can call me Charlie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie, and thanks for the help with those raiders.”

“I’m not actually sure how I… I mean I’ve never.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard enough that Preston could hear.

“What did I tell you? She’s useless.” Marcy laughed derisively in the background, and he snapped his head to glare at her. She rolled her eyes and sat down beside Jun.

“That’s Marcy,” he explained as he turned back to Charlie, “She’s lost a lot and she’s just angry. That guy by the desk is her husband, Jun. Old Mama Murphy’s over there on the couch, and this is Sturges.”

“Yo.” Sturges looked up from the terminal where he was hard at work again, and waved, before looking back at the terminal which had gone blank. “Damn it all.”

“What’s he trying to do,” Charlie asked, eyebrow quirked.

“He’s trying to hack that terminal to open a security gate downstairs. See, we’ve found a crashed vertibird and a suit of old pre-war power armor on the roof but—”

“It’s out of juice,'' Sturges interrupted, much to Preston’s relief. Technology had never been his strong suit, “But, there’s a fusion core downstairs behind that gate. If we could just get the damn thing open, we could use the power armor to rip the minigun off that ‘bird, and the raiders are toast.”

To Preston’s surprise, Charlie rose out over her seat slowly, and he stood with her, stepping out of her way as she walked over to the terminal. “Can I try?”

“It’s all yours, miss,” Sturges replied, scooting over and leaning against the desk, and Charlie went to work, long fingers clicking rapidly on the keyboard. A gold band glistened on her left hand, and Preston wondered why she was alone.

“Let’s see,” she mumbled to herself, “I’m not sure if these are the same as the ones my husband used to work on back before— well, just a while back. He taught me a little about how to break into a locked system because I had a bad habit of forgetting my own passwords.”

A smile flashed across her face, but it wasn’t happy. There was something beneath it, something she seemed to be trying to muscle her way through, as she continued working until finally she blurted, “Ha! There we go. I’m in.”

Sturges jumped up from his lean and turned to peer over Charlie’s shoulder, amazement washing over his face. “Well, I’ll be damned. When we get out of here, you’ve got to teach me how you did that.”

“I can try.” She stepped away from the terminal and collected her pistol from the desk, reloading and cocking it, then she turned to Preston. “I’ll get that fusion… thing… and head to the roof.”

Caught off guard by her complete shift in confidence from the shaking woman who’d been sitting in the chair just moments before, refusing to let go of his hand, he stammered out, “I… but… okay. Thanks.”

She ran out of the room, Dogmeat trailing behind her, and Preston had to focus much harder than usual to keep his mouth from hanging open. Just as she was out of earshot, Sturges cackled beside him. “That little lady is something else.”

“No shit,” Preston agreed, shaking his head, and then looking around the room to everyone else, stopping at Mama Murphy, whose eyes glittered knowingly, “She might get us out of this after all.”

After just a few minutes of waiting, Charlie burst back through the door, fusion core in her free hand, waving it in the air as she rushed past the settlers to the door that led up to the roof. There was some loud clanking, the whirring sound of power armor starting up and then a clatter as she seemingly tore the minigun from the vertibird. Preston stepped outside on the balcony, and peered over and up at her on the roof. She waved cheerfully, before jumping down into the street and absolutely laying waste to the raiders that flooded toward her. It was messy fighting, and she clearly wasn’t so much aiming as she was, closing her eyes, spinning, and holding down the trigger, but it was effective. He only had to take care of a handful of enemies who managed to climb up to the tops of buildings.

When Charlie finished clearing up the area, she turned around and waved up to Preston. He laughed and waved back in disbelief, at least for a second until a cold rush of dread fell over him as he noticed the beast surging toward her, claws out, drool leaking past it’s gigantic, sharp teeth. He didn’t have time to say more than, “Charlie. Behind you,” before the deathclaw picked her up, power armor and all, as easily as if she were a rag doll. He watched in horror, gripping at the railing, too far away to get a good shot at the thing.

She struggled with the minigun, pulling the trigger a few times, only for it to shoot a couple of rounds and fizzle out of ammo. She yelped, and tossed the gun at the deathclaw’s nose, which stunned it just enough for her to reach into one of the leather pockets on her belt and pull out what looked to be a frag grenade. Preston panicked. If she threw it at such a close range, she’d be caught up in the blast too. He opened his mouth to shout at her not to do it, but she’d already ripped out the pin with her teeth. Then she leaned back, and tossed the explosive just as the deathclaw opened its mouth. Startled and choking, it threw her to the ground, the armor the only thing protecting her from several broken bones.

Ten long seconds passed as the giant lizard wheezed and clawed at it’s own throat, long enough for Charlie to rise to her feet, exit the damaged suit, and run for cover behind a nearby barricade the raiders had built. Then there was a sickening explosion, a muffled boom followed by the splattering of deathclaw limbs and flesh all over the street and nearby buildings. Flecks of blood even reached as far as to splatter on Preston’s duster and he frowned— He’d just found the damn thing, and it was already going to have stains on it. Looking up and out at the gory mess, he sighed and muttered to himself. “ I guess that’s one way to do it.”

By the time he made it back inside, everyone had left the upper floors and congregated downstairs, waiting for their hero to return. Mama wobbled on her feet, and Preston hurried over beside her so that she could grab onto him for stability. “Take it easy, Mama,” he urged, patting her hand she’d looped through his arm, “You okay?”

She squeezed his arm and hissed playfully. “I’m fine, Preston. Quit fussin’.’”

“Someone has to fuss over you,” he teased, guiding her to a cushioned chair that sat against a wall and helping her sit down, “Might as well be me.”

“Sugar, I’m about fifty years too old for you to be doing all that flirting.”

“It’s not—”

The old woman chuckled and patted his cheek. “I’m just yankin’ your chain.”

Preston let out an embarrassed laugh, and rose just in time to see the doors to the museum creak open, a thin band of light peeking through, and Charlie’s silhouetted figure walking in way too gingerly for someone who’d just gone toe-to-toe with a giant irradiated lizard and won. When she closed the door behind her, the shadows cast over her vanished, revealing her harrowed face. To see her fight, one would have thought her fearless and indestructible, but it must have been terrifying.

“Well,” she exclaimed as she walked toward the area where the group had congregated, “That sucked.”

Preston hurried forward without thinking, compelled to greet her, to thank her, to apologize. “That…” he trailed off not knowing what to start with, “That was impressive. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

“I’m glad I have someone’s side to be on,” she stated kind of ominously. He couldn’t figure out what she meant. “You’re the first people who haven’t tried to kill me since… I got here.”

“New to these parts then?”

“You could say that.” She laughed, scratching the back of her head and looking down at the floor.

“ Well, it’s good you got here when you did. I think I mentioned that I’m with the Minutemen earlier?”

“You did. I’ve no idea what that means anymore, but…” She shrugged.

“It means we protect the people... at a minute’s notice, and—” He dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a pouch of caps, all he had left, and extended it to Charlie— “We pay our debts.”

Charlie reached out with both hands, placing one atop his and the other beneath the pouch, squeezed and then lowered his arm, smiling and glancing briefly toward the others in the room before bringing her eyes back to Preston. “You don’t have to pay me,” she said.

Alarmed, Preston pulled his arm away from her grasp and returned the caps to his pocket, eyeing her suspiciously. “Why did you help then?”

“Because I could.” She smirked and put a hand on her hip in what was turning out to be a characteristic movement for her. “Or at least I thought I could. The dinosaur was a surprise.”

He laughed, truly laughed for the first time since before Quincy. “Yeah, it’s not everyday a deathclaw strolls into town.”

“Deathclaws? That’s what you call those? Huh.”

“Man, you really aren’t from around here are you?”

“No,” she stated more seriously, glancing back down again and twisting the ring on her left hand. “Definitely not.”

A heavy silence passed between them, and Preston found himself fidgeting uncomfortably, not exactly certain how to react to genuine kindness and generosity from a stranger. It’d been so long. “You know, you remind me a lot of some of my friends in the Minutemen. They died doing what was right, and now I’m all that’s left.”

“I’m sorry,” she interjected before he could finish his thought, “I kind of know how that feels.”

“Umm, thanks.” It was the first time anyone had apologized to him since everything started, and she didn’t even know what happened. He straightened his hat. “What I was going to say is that you should come with us. We could really use your help.”

“Where are you going?”

Preston tilted his head toward Mama. “Mama Murphy’s been seeing visions of us going to this place called Sanctuary. It’s a rundown old town right now, but she thinks we could build it up again.”

“Visions,” she asked, looking back at the old woman.

“She just thinks she has visions,” Marcy chimed in from across the room, “And Preston and Sturges are too nice to tell her she’s just high off her damn gourd. So we end up wandering around based on the ramblings of an old chem addict.”

“ Hey,” Preston snapped, “If you think you could do better, then by all means—”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Sturges scolded, clearly sick of the hostility, “We’re all on the same side here, so let's settle down. Marcy, do you have a better idea?”

There was a long silence in which Marcy did nothing but cross, uncross her arms, and huff. “Nothing? Okay, then we’re going to this Sanctuary place.” Sturges said after some time and then winked at Preston, a signal that he had the situation under control. Preston nodded his thanks and returned his attention to Charlie once again, who was still deep in conversation.

“Diamond City,” she asked, that pain he’d noticed before surging to the front of her face, “Is he there?”

“I… it’s not clear, kid, and I’m tired,” Mama answered in that way she always did when she was about to attempt to bum some chems off of someone, “Maybe you bring me some jet later? Maybe I’ll have you some more answers.”

“Jet? What’s—”

“Mama,” he interjected, not wanting the old woman to abuse the good graces of a potential ally, or even a friend. “I told you to stop messing with that stuff. It’s gonna kill you.”

“Oh shush, Preston,” Mama grumbled, “We all die someday, might as well help this young lady out.”

Charlie flashed a grin at him, and then patted Mama on the shoulder, “I wouldn’t want you to do anything dangerous on my account.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t let Preston charm you into good behavior with that pout of his. Handsome or not, he’s just a worry wart.”

To his surprise, Charlie actually looked back at him and tilted her head. He darted his eyes away under the scrutiny of her examination. “He’s not pouting,” Charlie remarked matter of factly, “And I’m perfectly capable of good behavior on my own.”

Mama shook her head as Charlie gave her another gentle pat on the shoulder and walked to stand next to Preston and whisper, “I’m assuming Jet’s a drug?”

He blinked a few times, “Do they not have chems where you’re from?”

“I don’t know enough to answer that question.” She laughed and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, before bumping his shoulder, “I’ll explain later… when we get to Sanctuary Hills.”

“So, does that mean you’re coming with us?” He tried not to let his excitement show too much.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

#fallout 4 #preston garvey #preston garvey x sole survivor #preston garvey x f!sole survivor #charlie smart #my writing

19 notes · View notes

mr-humphries · 3 years ago

Text

Might as well share this here. It's just a roleplay I did with myself over on BB Amino to cure my boredom, so dont expect it to be good fJFJEK

Peak my oc too 😩✨

_________

To be sent on a late soul collection was one thing, but the task of elimination was just baffling. Charlie would much rather be at home with that chonky little cat of his instead of being released on a life or death mission that could leave him extremely injured. But he knows better to disobey the higher-ups. Adjusting his glasses, Charlie remained cloaked in the shadow of a building, keeping his eye out for the target he was sent to rid of, one Alan Humphries, the fallen grim reaper who miraculously reappeared after the events of Crystal Palace, despite his partner having taken his life and 1000 souls were accounted for.

Whatever that blasted Undertaker has done with him, its messed up the entirety of Dispatch, dealing with taunts and attacks from the very same "reaper". And he was a good one at that. He was someone Charlie felt no reason to fight with.

He didn't have a say in this anyway.

Charlie flipped through his collection book, still awaiting the appointed time. Even at the slightest sound, he was on alert, a hand on his (cloaked) scythe, prepared to strike when he gets the chance. If only he was smarter than that, then he wouldve seen what was coming. A scythe. Right to face.

"Fancy seeing your face around here reaper," he taunted, while Charlie staggered and readied his own scythe, looking around in every direction "a fresh face like yours would make you someone fun to toy with" A grip on Charlie's shoulder startled him, making him spin around and attempt to attack whoever's behind him, which failed, and sent him flying into a corner. "Honestly mate, surely they would teach you better than that at the academy," a scythe blade pressed up to his throat "it's a little pathetic."

Charlie dropped whatever was in his hands and held them up, almost surrendering "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Humphries"

"Come on, what's with the formalities? I may be out hunting the Dispatch for my enjoyment and the sake of being rewarded quite generously, but you dont have to be formal about it, its weird-" Alan rolled his eyes, which had no real discernable colour, mainly faded or Grey, before peering back down at the reaper "so. What do you want?"

Charlie simply glared at the reaper standing above him, despite his short height, he was quite intimidating. "I want nothing from you-"

Alan scowled, pressing his scythe harder on Charlie's neck "come on now, you dont have to lie to me. I'm not a parrot. I wont be repeating anything to anyone else, but I will take something personally. So tread lightly regardless." Alan flashed him a soft smirk, just loving the defeat in Charlie's eyes. "I was sent to rid of you"

"Did Spears send you?"

"The Higher-ups sent me-" Charlie stopped glaring to stare into the wall beside him "I didnt want to be here, I had to go against my own will." Alan snickered at Charlie's remark "what's so funny about that?"

"The fact that Dispatch would rather save their own skins sending someone so under qualified for the job," Alan pulled the scythe away from Charlie, crouching in front of him with a smirk "Its kind of sad really... that they dont actually care for you and send you for a sacrifice~"

"You say that as if it's a terrible thing"

"Terrible? No no, better for me, but quite selfish indeed..." he chuckled.

"so, what I'm getting from this is Higher-ups are afraid of me?"

Charlie hesitated, "I wouldnt say afraid-" Alan groaned in response "you dont have to e going and defending them. They sent you out here to rid of me, and look at where it's getting you. Not very far."

"Regardless of what theyve done, I'm still alive like this because of them. I still have a bit of faith if getting redeemed, is that so wrong?"

"Oh you poor thing... thinking theres life after death... a redemption waiting for you just beyond the horizon," Alan got up, giggling, before a deadpan look came across his face when Charlie didnt laugh too "heaven doesn't exist, lad. All that waits, is hell, no matter how hard you work. Lower your expectations a little, 'kay?" Alan's smiled reappeared "now, if it's up to schedule I suppose we'll be meeting again. I'm free at 6 on wednesdays if your rather settle this over dinner," Alan turned and began to leave, waving him off "ta ta I guess."

Charlie quickly got up, stumbling as he ran after him "now hold on just a second!"

"Eh?"

"You work for undertaker- you mention he'd give you a generous reward for slaying the Reapers, right-?"

Alan raised an eyebrow, prompting Charlie to huff "you know, for a dangerous person you're not very considerate-"

"Why do you wanna know?"

Charlie remained silent for a moment, fiddling with his jacket sleeves before answering "just wanted to know."

Alan kept an brow raised, thinking for a moment "what do I get in return for this information, Junior?"

"anything. I'll let you have me. You can kill me, bring me back, whatever. I'll do anything. Justblet me know what Undertaker has."

Alan held a sceptical look on his face "... you know what, because you've been such a good sport. No. I'm not telling you a thing, itll be more torturous to live out that sad little life of yours- none of your business really."

Charlie glared "oh come on! I offered you whatever I can think of!!"

The "reaper" laughed "AH, BUT YOU THOUGHT I WOULD TELL YOU!"

"what's wrong with you?!"

"tell you what, right, I'll compromise with you. I'll tell you what you want, but you have to tell me everything about Dispatch, dates, times of everything. With your shocking combat skills, you're most likely in general affairs..."

Charlie looked down, huffing "deal."

Alan smirked and chuckled, "good." He maneuvered in front of Charlie, knocking the scythe from his hand, taking a real tough grip on his tie and waist to pull him in close, whispering into his ear "when our deal is through... and Dispatch is completely out of commission... I can finally take back what was mine. My Eric~ and, oh, I haven't seen him in years. I'm sure it would be nice to catch up... wouldn't you think?" Charlie's eyes widened "and when hes finally returned, I can finally knock sense into that Michaelis, for making such a big deal of 1000 souls... it's what got My beloved killed after all." Alan let out a dark chuckle, making Charlie shiver, suddenly gasping for air when his tie was tightened around his neck, watching as Alan backed away "and you wont be getting in the way, correct?"

Charlie shook his head vigorously, choking for air when alan let go and the tie loosened slightly "Good. You're a great listener. Let me know when we shall meet again. Doesnt matter where, I'll always find you."

Charlie kept choking for a moment, tearing up slightly as he glared up at the other, "I-I'll find out what I can- we'll meet tomorrow..."

"Glad you're cooperating. Til we meet again." He waved to Charlie, before walking off and leaving him to loosen his tie completely and try to breathe once more.

Oh how screwed he was.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #1000 souls and the fallen shinigami #the most beautiful death in the world #alan humphries #oc #charlie nightingale

4 notes · View notes

paddie-ut · 4 years ago

Photo

Soriel Week 2020 Day 1: Dance More of a subtle reference to the prompt in this one. Yes i’m back at it with the angst on day 1. The pic is just a bonus for the real entry, which is the oneshot I wrote below the cut. You can also read it here on AO3: X (TW for implied blood, death and violence. The usual stuff that comes with references to the no mercy run)

It was cold.

It was cold when he hit the tiled floor, body rapidly going to pieces. And it was cold now. Wherever he was.

Everything still ached. Like acid eating through his bones. The pain was always strangely familiar, expected. But that never stopped it from hurting.

He curled his crimson stained mitten tighter over his ribcage, not even sure if he was facing up or down. He didn’t dare open his sockets, wanting more than anything to slip away from all this into sleep. He was so unbelievably tired.

The sounds of a small child’s body repeatedly slamming into the floor and against the walls kept swimming through his skull, ruining any chance of that. Paired with the hazy visions of a gold hallway littered with bones and awash in great stains of red, it was like a cruel joke. So much for this process being peaceful.

How long had it gone on this time? How many times had he killed them?

It didn’t matter anymore. So he wished his mind would stop asking.

With every moment that passed though, he did start to notice the cold all around was losing its grip on him. Something warm had come to combat it. Something physical… soft. Something… that smelled like cinnamon… and butterscotch?

The oddity of that alone was enough to calm the chaos of his thoughts some, and convinced him to attempt to open his weary sockets. It was more effort than expected, but he managed it.

What met his eyelights then when they were able to focus was… unexpected to say the least.

Soft scarlet eyes stared down at him, set in what seemed to be a sea of white fur. Long creamy white ears framed their face and two horns crowned their head. Strangely, there were also what appeared to be shining specks in their fur, glittering like tiny stars. Those same specks were also lazily floating in the air around them, bright and twinkling against what seemed to be all encompassing blackness in every direction.

Judging from the angle he was seeing them from, he realized they were holding him in their large arms. making him feel utterly tiny… but safe. The monster shouldn’t have been familiar, yet somehow he knew exactly who she was.

“Oh thank goodness…” She sighed with relief before smiling down at him. “I was starting to worry you may not wake up!”

He just stared up at her for a few moments, mind awhirl with questions he was too tired to focus on. But he eventually managed a weak smile.

“heh… well this is new.” Was all he could think to say, thinking aloud more than anything.

He had been expecting his brother. Surely that was who must have greeted him all the other times he’d ended up here. It only made sense. But thinking about it too much would only add a skullache to all the other aches consuming him. So he didn’t bother to question it. Worrying about the logistics of what happened in this place didn’t have much of a point.

Besides… he’d be lying if he denied seeing her didn’t stir the first positive feelings he’d felt in… gosh… how long had it been since he’d saw Papyrus’ scarf half buried in the snow at the outskirts of Snowdin? Whatever… if she was here, he must be here too.

“Greetings, my friend.” She said warmly, though her eyes were still noticeably sad. “It is I, Toriel. I know you may not recognize me, but my voice may sound familiar to you, does it not?”

“yah. nice to see you tori.” He said, finding the words oddly natural.

She blinked in surprise at that, tilting her head a bit in a way he couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Did... did you already-?” She began to question, but he interrupted her with a few shaky coughs.

“heh, don’t worry about it.” He rasped once he could speak again. “i just started connecting the dots over time, i guess.”

It was not a full lie, but not a full truth. He knew that. Though in that moment, he couldn’t have put into words just why that was. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. Not here.

She frowned, as though upset with her past self for potentially giving away her true identity unbidden. But her attention was drawn back to him as he stiffened up and winced from another wave of pain.

As much as he wanted to keep focused on her, the wound he carried that nearly split him from shoulder to pelvis was pretty darn good at demanding his attention. He squeezed the front of his shirt tighter, feeling that it was still soaked. When he shakily lifted his free hand in front of his face, he could see the splashes of dark red staining his mitten.

For some reason it made him want to laugh, but he didn’t know why.

“Do not worry, it stops hurting after a little while.” She assured him softly, giving his arm a consoling rub.

She turned her head a bit then so he could more easily see the scar on her face. A faded, but still noticeable remnant of a gash that stretched from her cheek up to under her right eye.

His breathing went funny for a moment, as something akin to a mix of nausea and anger briefly bubbled up inside him. But it wasn’t long before he forced his weary grin back into place with practiced ease.

“good to know.” He rasped, wheezing out a chuckle. “was worried i might end up as half the skeleton i used to be.”

As if on cue, she laughed that brilliant laugh of hers. The kind that all but left her breathless. And though it was strained with the heavier emotions no doubt pressing down on her, it caused his grin to grow so much it made his cheekbones hurt.

He’d missed this. He did the best to avoid chuckling in turn though, as the action would no doubt further aggravate the gaping slash through his ribs.

Once she had calmed down and returned her ruby red gaze back to him, he shook off his ruined mitten, lifted his trembling free hand to her, and gave the best smile he could manage.

“the names… sans.” He croaked out. “sans the skeleton.”

As usual, he slipped the whoopee cushion he always kept in his hoodie sleeve up into his hand. Maybe the red stains all over it kind of ruined the effect, but he saw no sense in spoiling his routine if he could manage it.

The sound of artificial flatulence sounded somehow more hilarious when echoing through an ethereal void, he found.

She burst into laughter again, and his soul felt light.

...

Shortly after, he found himself being carried by Toriel down some winding, faintly glowing path through the darkness. Everywhere her paws stepped, the “ground” glowed for a few moments in the shape of her footprint before fading away. It reminded him faintly of waterfall, if waterfall also had a bunch of sparkling stardust floating around.

At the end of the path, in what could maybe be called “the distance”, he could see a place that was glowing far brighter, like a city floating in the middle of a pitch black sea. He tried not to look at it, it only made a new pain lash out at his soul.

Instead he looked back up at Toriel, and found that she had been looking down at him too. She played it off and returned her gaze to their destination, but Sans could see the conflicted emotions in her eyes. He debated staying silent, maybe just closing his eyes until whatever came next, but the words seemed to tumble out of him without his permission.

“so... i figure you must of seen what happened, huh?” He asked quietly, feeling the dulling pain of his wound thrumming beneath his phalanges.

Her breathing stalled and she momentarily struggled to look at him. The soft scarlet of her eyes was awash with what he was worried he may see there, guilt.

“Yes… we all did.” She admitted, holding him a little closer and swallowing hard. “Y-you… you fought bravely, my friend. Please just rest now.”

In a move that was all too familiar to him, she worked a smile back onto her face and quickly changed the subject.

“Everyone is waiting for you. Your brother included. Not too far from here.” She said, motioning towards the bright place in the distance. “He is a wonderful monster, so cheery and kind hearted despite all that has happened. I can see why you spoke so highly of him.”

His eyelights must have given away the inner surge of emotions he felt at the mention of his brother, as she added to her statement quickly.

“Oh, he wanted to be the one to come get you of course…” She assured him. “But it seems that since I am among those who have been here the longest, it is easier for me to traverse this place. I… I do not fully understand it myself yet.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, seeing the logic in what she was saying and not bothering to question it further. He was in no shape to imagine how such things worked here, though there was some small part of him that still held that interest regardless. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn't help but think for a moment about how the other monsters must of reacted to Toriel, their long lost queen, suddenly reappearing to them in this place. Given the circumstances... if they knew all that had led to this... it was easy to imagine the majority of them would be less then pleased to see her.

Perhaps there was more to the fact she'd come to meet him alone than it seemed. If that was the case, and even if it wasn't, he figured the best thing he could do for her was try to keep her smiling.

“what, you weren’t just eager to see me?” He teased, wheezing out a chuckle despite his best efforts when she gave him a playful glare for it. It left his ribs freshly aching, but it was worth it.

“Well, I am very happy to finally meet you in person, my friend.” She said upon regaining her smile. “Just as I was happy to meet your brother and the others… We all have so much to talk about… and all the time in the world now to get to know one another.”

Just as quickly as it had come, her smile faltered again, and he could feel the conflicted emotions from her powerful soul radiate off her. She swallowed hard and let out a shaky sigh.

“I know… it is difficult to feel anything truly positive after all that has happened.” She said, voice noticeably trembling. “But at least… it is over now, and we will all be together. Just try to remember that.”

Sans couldn't be sure if she was really talking to him, or herself with that last bit. In any case, she kept walking, a bit faster than before. She kept her eyes on the path ahead, but he just kept his gaze fixed on her.

“right…” He responded quietly, trepidation beginning to wind tighter around his soul.

He couldn’t just keep ignoring it. No matter how much he tried to avoid the thought, it was growing like a weed and inevitably kept choking out any opposing ones.

He should keep his mouth shut. He shouldn’t say anything. He should just go to sleep and let it happen. He should spare her from this. But...

His gaze met hers again, and he felt like his soul was being squeezed.

“tori… listen…”

The words had barely left him before they both were hit by a powerful wave of... something. Strong enough to make Toriel stop in her tracks and look around in alarm. Sans didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew what it meant. It felt like all the vitality he had left drained from him in that moment.

“What on earth was that?” Toriel asked quietly, more to herself it seemed.

“nothing good.” Sans replied, internally wincing a bit as she looked down at him in surprise.

Her gaze silently demanded to know what he meant, fear creeping bit by bit into her expression. He sighed in defeat, knowing there was no backing out of it now. He could already feel the tips of his phalanges going numb, and hear a dull whine in the far distance.

“tori, we… we aren’t gonna make it back to the others.” He said, shutting his sockets briefly.

Toriel stiffened, and he could feel the faint prick of her claws against him as they slid out of their own accord.

“Wh-what?” She stammered, clearly hoping he was setting up a joke somehow. “What do you mean?”

The hollow expression on his face no doubt banished any hope she had that this was some poor excuse for humor on his part. Even though her eyes were painful to look at then, he did his best to keep his wits long enough to explain what he could.

“tori... the stuff with the human… it goes beyond just what they did to us.” He said, ignoring the now creeping numbness in his phalanges. “they... they are causing something a lot worse to happen… i dunno what it is. but i’m pretty sure it’s happened before. i’ve uh… seen the data.”

There was no time to explain that last part, and it reminded him too much of his encounter with the kid anyway. He had to get to the point.

“for some reason… everything disappears at the end of this. and i do mean… everything.”

Toriel just stared at him in silence, mouth opening and closing but not finding any words. He could tell she wanted to argue, but surely she was feeling what was coming just as much as he did. And just as it seemed she may finally reply, another wave, stronger than the last nearly knocked her off her feet.

She staggered, clutching him tightly in an effort not to drop him. Once the initial shock had passed, her gaze quickly snapped to the lights in the distance. Sans didn’t have to look to know they’d be flickering, feeling the effects of what was coming as well. The sparkling bits of stardust around them were also winking out one by one, leaving them in further darkness every moment. It wouldn’t be long now.

It was then that it became clear Toriel wasn’t going to question things further. She didn’t fully understand, but she really didn’t need to. The idea had sunk in, as he could sense the weight of it slowly taking hold of her. Despite all her fur keeping her warm from the chill of this place, she began shivering lightly.

“i’m sorry.” He murmured without thinking, resisting a far harsher shudder of his own. “this is what happens when people like me take it easy.”

He didn’t expect a reply to that. If anything he expected anger from her, as she realized just what his failure to stop the human had truly meant. But instead it was that guilt he’d seen from her before that made itself known.

“Please, you must not blame yourself.” She implored in a dazed tone. “You... you fought so hard to stop them in the end… If anything… I am to blame for asking you to protect them…”

He closed his sockets with a soft sigh at that, all while feeling the numbness had consumed his hands and feet entirely. He considered arguing with her further, insisting his lack of earlier action against the kid far outweighed her wanting to give them a chance. But there was just no time. There were better things to focus on in what little they had.

“well... for what it’s worth… i think your heart was in the right place, y’know?” He assured her, resting the side of his skull against her slightly. “you couldn’t have known. and i doubt the other humans were anywhere near as bad as this one, otherwise you wouldn’t have given this one a chance in the first place.”

He knew he couldn’t free her of her own guilt no more than she could free him of his. But he didn’t want her last thoughts to be those of self hatred. Not if he could help it anyway.

He tried to think of some last knock knock joke, knowing it was the only real sort of comfort he could reliably offer her. Pathetic as that was. But the increasing signs of their certain doom’s rapid approach all around them kind of made it hard to come up with any decent material.

It was her who ended up speaking again first, in a surprisingly calm tone all things considered.

“Then... this is it?” She asked, her eyes growing hazy. “Why then… why were we brought here? I..."

She turned her head away, stifling what sounded like a sob.

"I never was even able... to find my children..." She croaked out, the words heavy with despair. "Wh-what was the point of any of this..?"

It was a question he could never answer. It was unlikely anyone really could. But she knew that. The question was rhetorical, but he played along anyway. If only to keep from giving into the icy fear that wanted so badly to ensnare him.

“i wish i knew...” He replied weakly, breath hitching a bit. “guess it’s just... one last dance before the curtain call.”

He meant it to be that last twinge of humor he wanted to get out. But the strain in his voice robbed it of any joviality, making it humorous in a different way perhaps, but not how he intended. Maybe if his funny bone hadn’t just gone numb as well, it would have been better.

Toriel didn’t reply for a long moment, staring at where the bright lights in the distance had once been. Now they were so dull, they were barely visible amongst the sea of black. He struggled not to think of his brother and the others, frightened and having no idea of the secondary and final fate that was bearing down on them. Or perhaps that had already claimed them.

Instead Toriel’s voice brought his wavering focus back to her, as she subtly tightened her grip on him. Her face remained impressively stoic as she spoke, even as a few tears silently spilled from her eyes.

“Will I… ever see you again, my friend?” She asked softly, looking down at him as though trying to memorize every element of his face.

The question was so raw, he wondered if she’d even meant to speak it aloud. His soul got all tight in his ribcage, and he felt what may have been long withheld tears of his own wanting to well up in his sockets. But he kept his usual smile in place all the same. If only for her sake.

Part of him wanted to lie again, to give her some last comfort before the end, but for some reason… he found he just couldn’t. Not with her looking at him like that.

“can’t know that for sure.” He admitted, giving a small shake of his skull. “we don’t have any say in what comes next. but... there’s a possibility that after everything’s gone, things might... start anew... reset, y’know?”

All of his limbs had gone numb now, and his vision blurred to the point he could no longer make out her features. Whether that was from tears or from the world’s imminent destruction, he didn’t know.

“you can be sure if we end up back at the start of all this...” He gave her a wink. “i’ll come knocking again as always.”

Those statements surely must have confused her, but the sentiment seemed to be enough that he could feel that she’d stopped trembling, and a flicker of warmer emotion emanated from her soul. Like a spark in the ever growing darkness.

“Perhaps then… there is at least a chance things will be better next time.” She said quietly, and he felt her chin rest upon the top of his skull as she held him close.

He closed his sockets and pressed a little closer to her in return, feeling his awareness starting to steadily slip away.

As much as he would have liked to, he couldn’t share her optimism. Not after this. But she spoke with that same integrity that had made him soften enough that day at the Ruin’s door to break his personal rule against making promises. And just like back then, despite everything, she was getting to him again.

As foolish as it was, he allowed himself to hold on to that possibility as the last wave hit, eradicating everything in their world along with it.

“yah… maybe next time.”

#soriel #sorielweek #sorielweek2020 #sans #toriel #undertale #my art #my fic #blood tw #angst #no mercy run

47 notes · View notes