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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

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I put a Spell on you - Harry Hook x Sanderson! Reader - Halloween special one-shot

Halloween Harry Hook x reader

basic version of outfit for reader, can be changed as wished

VVVV

Halloween night, 2007, on the isle of the lost.

Young 6-year-old Harry Hook sat in the hull of the jolly roger, pouting to himself as he picked at his scarce stolen candy.

The isle never got much in the way of candy, the most they got was during the month of Halloween that the parents of Auradon threw away early for some odd reason.

Though what candy the isle got was little, and the “good stuff” was still on Auradon.

And Harry had unfortunately gotten a bad pick of candy this year, nasty fruit ropes that tasted like death, molding “coconut” chocolate candy that was too mushy to really enjoy, and watermelon looking hard candy.

The best he got was little wrapped hard pieces of candy that looked like brown barrels that had a slight spice to them.

Harry dropped the piece of candy he was holding and sighed, starting to stand and getting ready to turn in for the night after the disappointing Halloween. “jus’ like last year” Harry mumbled, brushing off his horrifically made copy of his father's jacket, he paused, something rang across his ears. “wha’ was-“

Come little children, I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children, the time's come to play

Here in my garden of magic.

“singing?” Harry quietly asked himself, turning towards where the voice was coming from. It seemed hypnotic or at least was supposed to be, but It had no grab to it as if it had lost its power.

But Harry's curious nature pushed him to seek the voice out. He snuck off his father's ship and followed the voice into the dark forest near pirates bay.

He ducked as he spotted an old slim woman, the one who was singing, waving her hands about and twirling.

“Winnie~” the woman stopped singing, spinning around and crossing her arms, and whining at a hidden figure “It's not working!”

“of course it's not you twit, the stupid barrier blocks our powers, we won't be getting any children tonight!” “wait!” a plump woman stepped into the mood light, her eyes glinting “I smell a child~”

“that’s just (y/n) you idiot!” the hidden figure scoffed, stepping next to the slim woman, and smacking her torso “keep your child inside sister, they will ruin our plans” “But we can use them to lure children! Maybe they can even lure a boy~”

“silence Sarah” the oldest woman scoffed, turning and walking back towards the rackety shack near a pond. “sistars!”

“coming Winnie!” the slim one called back, hiking up her dress and running after the oldest.

“But Winnie! The child!” the plump one moaned, turning her eyes right at Harry.

Harry held his breath and ducked behind a tree, freezing as he heard the woman sniff the air and continue to walk closer to his hiding spot. Wait…shit! he walked right into the Sander-

“Auntie! It's just me!” Harry's jaw dropped as a child, who seemed just around his age, popped up from behind the tree in front of him, a small smile on their face “sorry, but there's no other kids around”

The plump woman groaned and shook her head, stomping back into the shack. “little brat, fooling me”

The child watched until the door closed, slumping against the tree in relief as they looked at him “you shouldn't be here, you don’t wanna know what happens when my mom and aunts get their hands on kids” they walked over to him and pulled at the lapels of his jacket, the hood of their cloak falling as they did so.

They beamed at him “but im not gonna let anything happen to ya don’t worry……sorry I don’t know your name?” they tilted their head at him, their bright (e/c) eyes staring into his.

“H-Harry” Harry stuttered out, gasping as the child grabbed his hand and started pulling him the opposite way of the old shack the old woman were in.

“Nice ta meet ya Harry im (y/n)!” (y/n) chirped, flipping their hood back over their head and continuing to lead Harry out of the forest.

Moments later they reached the edge and (y/n) turned, grabbing Harry's arms, spinning around, and pushing him over the edge “now you have ta promise that you won't come back no matter what, and to never follow random singing” (y/n) pouted at harry, wiggling their finger in his face “it's too dangerous”

“I-um” Harry stuttered again, wringing his hands together before he stomped his foot “they aren’t even tha’ scary! I can take ‘em”

(y/n) just shook their head “doesn’t matter, they’ll eat you if they get the chance”

“e-eat me?!” Harry squeaked, taking a step back from (y/n) “wait aren’t yeh one of their kids- won't yeh eat me too?”

“no!” (y/n) shook their head defiantly, scowling at Harry “that’s just gross, eating kids, Id rather eat rotten candy” (y/n) crossed their arms and tilted their head at Harry “what you think all witches eat kids?”

“well, they-” Harry swallowed harshly “ur mums a Sanderson ain't she? She's known for tha’ “

(y/n)s shoulders dropped “well I’m not my mother” Harry felt slightly bad as (y/n) curled in on themselves, looking off.

“hey-i….thank yeh fer savin’ meh” (y/n) perked up, smiling at him.

“you’re welcome Harry, now DON’T got back into the forest on Halloween night ever again” (y/n) once more shook their finger in his face, pouting at him.

Harry nodded slowly, placing his hand on theirs and pushing their hand down “why Halloween night only?”

“because that’s when they think they are most powerful, and the only time they are brave enough to wander outside the shack….aunt Winnie makes me go out to get food and all that every other time” (y/n) explained, eyes turning to the sky and gasping.

“you have to get home! It won't be long before my aunt gets another idea to get kids, go go!” (y/n) pushed at Harry's shoulders, back towards pirate bay.

“Alright alright im goin’!” Harry yelled, shaking his head at the odd witch, he turned to start walking back towards his dad's ship when he stopped. He spun back around, watching (y/n) walk back into the forest. “wait!” (y/n) groaned and stopped, spinning around to look at him with raised brows.

“what” they snapped, glaring at him.

“will I ever see yeh again?” Harry asked, blinking in surprise as (y/n)s cheeks turned dark and they looked down at the forest floor.

“um-i-maybe…I have to go!” (y/n) turned and ran back into the forest to her home, leaving Harry at the forest edge.

12 years later, on Halloween night, Harry sat in his temporary room at Evie's castle, sitting on his bed while Gil and Uma sorted through their first real batch of Halloween candy.

Most of it had been leftovers from Evie's trick or treaters, but Evie had made them chaperone Dizzy, Celia, and the twins for their first Halloween.

And the younger VKs had somehow roped them into Trick or treating with them, which luckily the people of Auradon were nice enough to ignore that they were technically too old to trick or treat.

Harry could recount Evie scoffing at the “Age limit”, saying that no one is too old to trick or treat.

“Gil hand me that orange one” Uma muttered, chewing on a Butterfinger.

“The Reese's?” Gil asked, holding up the flat packaging and handing it to Uma.

“yep, thanks…Harry you good?” Uma asked, noticing Harry staring out the window.

“hm?” Harry turned back to her, his eyes drooping “ah, sorry Uma, zoned out”

“well, it has been a tiring night….I'mma head in for tonight, night boys”

“night Uma” Harry and Gil called back in chorus, Gil leaving after Uma a moment later, leaving Harry alone in his room.

Come little children, I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children, the time's come to play

Here in my garden of magic.

Harry perked up, he knew that song…..he definitely knew that song.

Though this time, the hypnotic power it had was present, taking hold of his mind and dragging him out of his room and out the door of Evie's castle.

Harry walked deeper into the forest surrounding Evie's castle, the voice becoming louder as he walked.

Suddenly he was grabbed, the cackling of three women echoing in his ears.

“oh, it’s a boy! Hes Handsome too~I want to play with him~!”

“later Sarah, first we must take him along with the others back to the cottage, he’ll be the first for your child, let them experience the dark art of Magic!”

“ohhh! Yes! Let em’ learn, let ‘em learn, let ‘em learn!”

Harry's vision went black, and he woke later in a chair, something invisible tying him down to it.

“wha’?” Harry muttered, pulling at his arm “where…shit” Harry tried to wriggle his wrist to draw the small switchblade in his jacket sleeve when the three Sanderson sisters walked in, holding two small children in their arms.

“ohhh hes awake!” the thin one, Sarah he guessed, gasped, clapping her hands together.

Harry let out a snarl and thrashed in his chair, the sisters gasped and reeled back. “nasty one isn’t he” the one with the odd lips, Winnie, muttered “perfect for our little imp isn’t he Mary”

“perfect Winnie” the plump one snickered, licking her lips as she separated from her sisters and dragged one of the children over a chair next to Harry, forcing the young girl down into it and snapping her fingers, silver rope wrapping around the girl's arms and legs and binding her to the chair “there we go!”

Sarah giggled and grabbed the boy she had by the scruff of his zombie costume and dragged him over to the chair on Harry's left, pushing him into the chair and binding him with the silver rope that turned invisible like Harrys.

“ohhhh (y/n)~” Harry perked up….he knew that name?

From the door on Harry's right, someone stepped out from the shadows, wearing a long dark pink jacket that tapered off at their waist, a corset type top with fishnet under top underneath it, ripped black jeans with scuffed brown boots, a belt with a pouch resting on their left hip that held two beakers resting on their left thigh.

“yes, aunt Winnie” the teen witch sighed, their hood hiding their face from Harry. Winnie grabbed an odd brown colored spell book with an eye on it and handed it to the hooded teen.

“here, finish the life potion while we go get more children, the…pirate boy is yours to do what you wish with” Winnie patted the teens head and turned “Sistars!” she stormed out of the cottage, the two witches running after their sister.

“coming Winnie!!”

The door slammed shut, the teen watching the door for a good minute before they sighed and dropped the book on the table to their right “thank hades” they tipped their head back, ruffling their (h/c) hair and blowing a raspberry “thought they’d never leave” they rushed over to a cabinet and ripped the doors open, rummaging through spices and herbs. “wormswart wormswart, where are you wormswart-ah-ha!”

They spun around, holding a jar of some sort of liquid and opening it, a hiss of silver mist rising from the bottle, they held the bottle delicately over the cauldron holding the boiling potion of life and poured a single drop of wormswart into the potion.

The potion turned a sickly brown, sputtering into the teen witches face. “ugh” they groaned, leaning back and wiping their face.

They grabbed a large spoon and mixed the potion, stirring until it turned back into a dark green. “there we go, now they can't use it” the teen muttered, looking up and locking eyes with Harry. “now to get you all out of here before they come back!”

With a wave of their hand, a silver pocket knife appeared, and they speed-walked over to Harry, cutting the invisible ropes at his hands. “im sorry about this, I tried to spell them to sleep until tomorrow at dawn but im not very good at potions other than ruining them”

“(y/n)?” Harry asked aloud, the teen stopped, slowly looking up at Harry, their still bright (e/c) eyes widening.

“Harry! What-“ they stood, leaning over Harry and shaking their finger in his face, “I told you not to follow the singing!”

Harry smirked at them and mocked bite their finger, (y/n) gasped and reeled back, pouting at him and smacking his chest. “jerk, im saving you from being eaten and yet you repay me like this?”

Harry chuckled and grabbed the knife from (y/n)s hand, cutting the rope from his legs “sorry love, couldn’t resist”

“l-love?” (y/n) stuttered, backing away from Harry and staring at him oddly.

Harry just looked at them, making their cheeks turn dark “you….you grew up” they muttered, looking away from Harry.

“heh” Harry chuckled, standing from the chair and looking to his right “we should probably get them outta here huh?”

“y-yeah” (y/n) stuttered, waving their hand and another silver knife appeared, walking over to the boy while Harry kneeled next to the girl and started to cut them free. “I’ll need to break the spell my mom put on them before we take them back, otherwise they’ll get their hands on them again.”

Harry nodded, picking up the girl dressed like a princess and setting her on his hip, her head resting in his neck.

(y/n) picked up the boy and walked over to harry, muttering a counterspell under their breath, and with a snap of their fingers, the two kids snapped out of their trance. The Girl leaning away from Harry and looking from him to (y/n), her eyes wide.

“where-whats” her lip wobbled, starting to cry a bit. the boy stared at Harry with wide eyes.

“you’re Harry Hook” the boy whispered in awe, squeaking a bit as (y/n) rearranged their grip on him.

“that's all dandy but we have to get you both back to your homes, the witches will be back soon and I need to be here when they are”

Harry nodded, pressing the girl's face back into his neck and following (y/n) out to the back door.

“come on, the main town is this way!”

Harry and (y/n) dropped the girl off, who told them her name of Sofia, and hurried her inside. “now don’t go after random singing on Halloween okay, it only leads to bad things” (y/n) warned them, handing the young girl a slip of paper with markings on it “as long as you have this, you will be protected from my mother's song” Sofia nodded, unsure but ran into her house, slamming the door behind her.

“alrigh’” Harry sighed, shifting Elijah in his arms and looked at the young boy “where do yeh live?”

Elijah pointed across the street and down a few houses “tha’ close huh?” Harry muttered, letting the boy down and watching him as he ran toward his home.

The boy stopped as (y/n) called his name, turning as they jogged over to him and handed him another piece of paper “thanks” Elijah squeaked, bolting into his house and slamming the door closed.

(y/n) sighed, rubbing their face in exhaustion “two down….however many kids to go” (y/n) rolled their neck and looked over at harry “now lets get you home too”

Harry stared at (y/n) as they walked up to him and held out their hands “I didn’t do this with the kids because I know they would freak but I can teleport us to where you live”

“yeh can teleport?” Harry asked, tilting his head as he stared at (y/n)s hands.

“yep, me, my mother, and my aunts each have a special power, my mom has a hypnotic singing voice, my aunt Mary can sniff out any kid from miles away, and my aunt Winnie can shoot lightning from her hands” Harry nodded slowly, grabbing onto (y/n)s hands.

“so what now?” Harry asked, watching as (f/c) smoke started to rise around him and (y/n)

“where do you live?” (y/n) chuckled, smiling at him.

“uh, im staying at Evie's castle right now”

“oh, I know where that is!” (y/n) cheered, the smoke swirling around them for a moment before it dissipated, revealing them now to be in front of Evie’s castle.

“cool” Harry muttered, not noticing (y/n) look down at their still intertwined hands and hurriedly ripped their hands away from him, Harry turned to (y/n), furrowing his brows as (y/n) looked around with wandering eyes “don’t go back” (y/n) whipped around to look at him with surprise.

“i-what?”

“don’t go back, stay here” Harry pleaded, grabbing onto (y/n)s shoulders “yer not happy there, and yer gonna waste away being their slave”

(y/n) just stared at him, sighing as they grabbed his hands and slowly took them off their shoulders “I…..I have to, to protect the kids”

Harry sighed, biting his lip in thought “okay….but!” (y/n) looked at harry, confusion swimming in their eyes “after tonight, come back here, im sure Evie would be happy to accommodate yeh, i’ll even ask for extra measure” (y/n) shook their head, looking over their shoulder back towards the witches cottage.

“…okay” (y/n) sighed, giggling as harry beamed at them and grabbed their shoulders in his excitement.

“Okay!?”

“okkayy! I'll come back tomorrow after my mom and aunts are asleep” Harry grinned at (y/n), chuckling as (y/n) smiled back.

“but….why do you want me to come back after tonight?” (y/n) asked, tilting their head at harry.

“because you saved meh from them 12 years ago…might as well return tha’ favor?” Harry smirked, snickering as (y/n)s cheeks darkened.

“well…I should get back now….see ya later?” (y/n) stepped away from Harry, (f/c) smoke rising around them. “see ya later” Harry confirmed, waving (y/n) goodbye as the smoke complexly enveloped them and they disappeared.

Harry sighed, cracking his neck and walking back inside Evie's castle, sneaking back up to his room and flopping on his bed, closing his eyes and falling asleep instantly from the crazy night.

Harry sighed in relief as the next morning, when Evie turned on the tv and the Auradon news came up, some breaking news came up about how the Sanderson sisters had been caught attempting their old antics with stealing the life force of children and had been arrested.

And the child of Sarah Sanderson had been confirmed secretly helping the children escaped, as claimed by the many children saved by the teen witch.

“aint (y/n) Sanderson that kid you met on the isle when you were like, 6? Harry?” Uma asked aloud, looking over her shoulder at Harry as he stuck another piece of pancakes in his mouth.

He swallowed and nodded, picking at his scrambled eggs “aye, and I….shoot, Evie I saw ‘em again last night, and might have told them if they wanted to they could come here?”

“that’s perfectly fine” Evie gushed, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron “I have plenty of room for them here, and-wait you saw them? How?”

“uhhh” Harry stalled, watching as Uma set her fork down and stared at him with raised brows.

“you did a stupid didn’t you?” Uma droned, leaning on her intertwined hands.

“uhhh, yes?” Harry winched, yelping as Uma sent a torrent of water at him “hey! I was bewitched! It wasn’t meh fault!” Harry pouted, crossing his arms.

Everyone went silent as Evie's front door got knocked on, Evie glanced at Harry and took off her apron, tossing it onto the counter and walking over to her door, slowly opening it and peeking around the door.

“oh! You must be (y/n)! Harry told us about you!”

“r-really? He did?” the teen muttered, gasping as Evie grabbed their wrist and dragged them in.

“yep! Now! Are you hungry?” Evie pushed them into the living room that doubled as a dining room that connected to the kitchen, (y/n) stared at all the vks, locking eyes with Harry.

“i-yes?”

“Great! I'll make you up a plate and you get acquainted with everyone!”

Evie clapped her hands and skipped back into the kitchen, giggling with Mal as (y/n) just stood awkwardly where Evie left her.

“yeh kept yer promise” Harry smiled, standing up and walking over to (y/n), putting his hands on his hips and leaning towards (y/n)

“uhh yep” (y/n) chuckled, rubbing their arm nervously “Im here?”

Harry chuckled at their awkwardness and grabbed their shoulder, shoving them into the middle of the room, in view of everyone “(y/n) this is everyone, everyone this is (y/n), they have saved my ass twice now”

“hi” (y/n) waved awkwardly, a small grin on their face. Uma stood from her seat at the island and walked over to (y/n), slowly circling her like a vulture. “ummm hi?”

Uma hummed, standing in front of (y/n), her eyes dark and revealing nothing….then she smiled, reaching out and patting (y/n)s shoulder “nice to meet you (y/n)”

(y/n) gave a small smile, “nice to meet you too….Uma? right?”

Uma nodded and nodded her head back at the island near the kitchen, where Evie was setting (y/n)s plate full of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. “yep that’s me, and your foods ready”

(y/n) slowly walked over to their food, taking off their bag that was slung over their shoulder and setting it on the floor, hesitantly starting to eat the food Evie had given them.

Almost comically, their eyes widened and they started to scarf down the breakfast. Evie giggled and tapped on the counter, grabbing (y/n)s attention “apple or orange juice?”

“apple please” (y/n) spoke with a mouth full of food, blushing as Evie giggled once more and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle.

She poured the drink and set it in front of (y/n) who gently took the cup and started to drink, turning towards the tv as it went back to the Sanderson sister's arrest.

*they will be stripped of their magic and be sent to the new high-security prison implemented on the isle of the doomed.*

“how many kids did yeh save (y/n)?” Harry asked, turning to look at the teen witch. (y/n) swallowed her mouthful of bacon and shrugged.

“around 20, including you and those two kids, my aunts and mom didn’t get far before the Auradon guard was called on ‘em”

“hm” Uma nodded in approval, smirking at harry “good job”

Harry smirked back, standing and sitting next to (y/n), watching as Dizzy changed the channel to Sunday cartoons

“so do yeh think you’ll stick around?” Harry whispered, (y/n) turned to him, and smiled.

“yeah I think I will” they whispered back, leaning back in their chair and watching the show “Powerpuff girls” as it played.

Harry smiled, happy to have finally repaid his debt to the witch who had saved him all those years ago.

And it was going to be fun to tease them since they went all dark whenever he simply looked at them.

-end-

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@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @remembered-license

@rintheemolion @verboetoperee

@random-thoughts-003 @imtryingthisout

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #halloween #hocus pocus #sanderson sisters #sarah sanderson

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ziracona · 3 years

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The second of my ready updates:

The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 ?) [Fate Grand Order AU]

We don’t find Ritsuka where we left her. It’s easy to follow the trail of carnage back, but there’s nothing there when we arrive, and Robin curses and hits one of the walls, muttering something I can’t make out. I want to say something to help him, but I’m feeling too much the same way myself. At least she’s alive, but if they’ve caught her…

“I told her to call us! And if she used that much mana, she knew she was in trouble, and she tried to fight instead!” snaps Robin.

“It’s possible something else happened,” interjects King David, “Couldn’t she have found someone else?”

That’s true. That’s true, and that would explain a lot! God, I hope so. I really, really hope so. I try to sense for another connection to a new spirit, but again, I find nothing, just like I can’t find my master.

“Come on,” says Emiya, “We need her back either way, and there’s nothing to do but search. If she left, she’d have started from here and had to head r—”

He stops.

I turn and follow his gaze. A little ways down the hall in that direction, there’s a door whose entire lock panel is melted. Bingo.

“Come on!” I call, rushing towards it.

As soon as I get there, I start to push open the door, but Robin catches me by my shoulder, and when I look, he’s pointing down the hall. “That way.”

“You can sense her?” I ask, amazed.

“No, but there’s faint mana traces in the air, and I’m extremely attuned to my own signature,” he replies, “She was wearing my cloak when we left her, and I can sense it picking up here—the trail goes that way. This way!” he calls to the others, “I’ll trace it!”

We tear off after Robin, turning down halls and up an elevator shaft. Alarms are blaring, and I still hear shouts in the distance. We only hit one patch of guards though, on the floor we get off on. They’re kneeling beside the downed bodies of other guards, whose blood has begun to dry already on the floor, and we catch them by surprise, knocking them out easily. She wasn’t alone, then, I think as I hesitate once the guards are down before moving on, And whoever she was with, they’re violent. And she wasn’t in control of them.

Not Ur-shanabi is good. Violent and not in control is really, really bad.

We go faster. A blur of tense, desperate movement down halls and past empty rooms and faint traces.

“I sense her!” shouts Robin, skidding to a stop halfway down a hall and changing course, “This way!”

He’s right! I check and I can sense her again too—one floor above us now, and a few halls over. King David breaks a hole through the ceiling with his sling and we move up as fast as we can, following her signature. We’re getting close, and overcome with a surge of intent, I pull ahead as we’re right on top of her and round the last corner first, and she’s there! She's there! She’s alive! She’s alive, and then the relief is immediately replaced with fear, because there’s a tall man I’ve never seen before, a heroic spirit like us, with some very intimidating energy coming off him, and two unmoving bodies slung over his shoulder, one a second heroic spirit, and the other Ritsuka, both unconscious and limp.

I draw and let a flurry of bullets slam into the wall all around his head. “Drop her!” I shout, “Or I won’t miss the next one!”

The man spins on his heel to face me and takes a step back, and I see on his face he’s thinking fast as the rest of the group slides into the hall behind me.

Seeing so many of us, the man grits his teeth and summons a long, thin sword made out of something I’m having a hard time looking directly at for some reason, simultaneously tightening his grip on Ritsuka and the other body and turning to angle himself between us and them. “What do you want!” he shouts desperately, “Aren’t all of you spirits too? Why are you attacking! What, are you dogs for this place?”

“We’re attacking because that’s our master’s unconscious body you’ve got highly god damn suspiciously slung over your shoulder!” snaps back Robin, bow aimed and leveled.

Eerily calm, beside me, King David readies his slingshot with a kind of poise and concentration that is genuinely unnerving. I do not think he will miss.

“Your master?” says the man in disbelief, “Do you think I’m an idiot? Outside of a ritual, a human being can barely sustain one spirit alone, let alone a human child—and this girl is my master. –‘Our master’? You expect me to believe this young girl is sustaining not just two, but six heroic spirits at the same time, alone?”

Wait.

Ahhhhh shit. Shit! That makes so much sense. Whooo second time today I’m real glad my instinct is to threaten and not to shoot strangers that only might be a huge threat!

“I don’t know what you want her for, but you’re not getting her!” continues the man with a ferocious intensity that makes him feel daunting, even heavily burdened and so clearly outnumbered. There’s a surge of mana around him, and in one burst of energy the grey suit is gone, replaced by a black and red uniform with a cloak and a full face mask, and the pressure in the room itself has changed and I’m suddenly hearing unsettling whispers in the air, and ah shit shit he’s flinging both bodies he was carrying out behind him and going to move which can only mean heee—crap crap crap; he’s about to use a bigass area of effect noble phantasm, and everyone knows it, and it hits me I’ve got about a third of a second before somebody shoots somebody in here’n—

“Wait, wait, wait!” I call, spinning my gun into my holster and stepping into the line of fire for the first few people beside me, hands up and out, because I like to think we’ve all hit the conclusion I just did, but everyone in the group is exhausted and tense and I’m not takin’ chances, “This was a mistake! Nobody shoot!”

To my surprise, no one does—not even the new guy. He stands, so tense he’s almost shaking, sword still leveled, but whatever he was about to do, he doesn’t—the mana level in the hall holds, and he listens.

Behind him in the sudden silence, I hear Ritsuka and the other guy hit the floor and roll with little thuds, and wince internally. I keep my focus on the guy in front of me and my hands up. “Sorry—We jumped the gun on you there-outah concern for our master,” I say apologetically, “I know this is gonna be real hard for you to believe, but she really is our master too. –If you find that hard to believe, you can check for yourself!—'parrently if you’re co-contracted, you can sense the connection to each other a little—you should be able to sense it from every one of us. Sorry I didn’t notice yours sooner; with our Master right on top of you, I wasn’t picking up the weaker signal under such a strong one. I can find it now, though.”

Taken aback and mistrustful, the man hesitates, then very slowly lowers his sword just a few inches, and beside me I sense the others do the same with their weapons in response. Taking that as a good enough show of faith, the man turns his head towards each of us in turn to sense for connections, then cranes his masked head to look at Ritsuka’s limp form where she landed, and says, “But. That’s impossible.” The earlier viciousness is gone now, and the air pressure in the room returns to normal. Wheeew, thank God! I let myself relax.

“She’s an unusual person,” replies Emiya, “Usually, you’d be right.”

“No wonder she passed out after forming a contract with me, the poor girl,” says the man softly like he means it. I decide I really like this guy. Got less than no idea who he is, but he was gonna get himself killed just now trying to keep Ritsuka and whoever else he’s got there from gettin’ hurt, instead of droppin’ ‘em and savin’ himself, and he clearly already likes her, so what else do I gotta know?

Shit—speakin’ of—

“I’m uh—just gonna go pick her up off the floor then? If we’re all cool?” I declare just in case the guy hasn’t decided he’s on board completely yet.

“… Oh. Yes,” he says with a note of chagrin, turning himself to look at where they’ve landed.

I go to her as fast as I can, unsurprised to hear everyone else coming too. The new guy comes as well, but he goes to the other body.

When I reach Ritsuka, I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look injured anywhere, just a little bit pale. I take a knee and scoop her up gently, trying to make sure there’s no damage I don’t see.

“Well, you look like you’re in one piece at least.” Robin, speaking softly. I glance up and watch as he takes a knee too and looks her over too. She’s still wearing his cloak, and he touches the hood, which is hanging loose, then sighs and pats her on the head. “And you took it off, I see. But I guess your judgement was okay, since things turned out like this. I won’t give you the worst time when you wake up again. You damn fool.”

The others are above us too now, and I glance up at King David and Emiya. I stand up so they can see too without trouble. “She’s fine, right?” I ask, since they both do healing to some extent. She seems like it, but bein’ unconscious always means somethin’ ain’t quite right.

King David reaches over and places a hand on her face for a second, then smiles. “She’s alright—just exhausted. –Good throw!” he adds cheerily to the other heroic spirit, who glances over in surprise from where he’s just stood up again himself with the other body he threw in his arms, “I don’t think that even really bruised her!”

The man seems to consider responding, but have no idea what to say, and shuts his mouth and just kind of gives an awkward nod. He hesitates, then moves closer to get a look at how she’s doing himself.

I haven’t had a chance to get a good look at the second heroic spirit—the one he’s holding—before this, but I do now. And…it is grim.

Shit. Whatever they did to him, it was bad. Weird that after what most have been two months of absolute hell I ain’t comfortable enough with to look at, I still feel like I got comparatively lucky. Least I knew what was going on…

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is a teenager like her doing here, and with six heroic spirits contracted to her?” asks the new man, glancing over at us.

“Uh, rescue mission,” says Robin, gesturing vaguely, “Happened to see that one in trouble,” he indicates me, “broke him out, summoned him for backup,” he indicates Emiya, “and they came back here to clean house. The rest of us were all in about the same position I expect you two were.”

“Ah, then is that why he’s…?” says the man, gesturing to our unconscious lancer.

Emiya gives a nod.

“What about yours?” I ask.

The unconscious spirit in his arms is in way worse condition than our lancer is—at least, he looks a lot worse. The guy’s body is covered in deep purple runes and markings I don’t recognize that glow and pulse faintly, carved into his skin, and his body is swollen horribly all over and covered in tiny red bumps. The bags under his eyes are deep and his face gaunt and hollow looking, even swollen, which is somehow worse than either would be on its own. His long blonde hair is lifeless, damp with sweat and caked to his body, and he’s breathing raggedly and weak. I have seen spirits in conditions as bad as this from wounds, in the heat of battle, but never…sick? I can’t think of any other way to describe this, but he looks sick, which we don’t get any more—and he looks terminal, at that.

“Yes. This is what they did to him. …I…haven’t been able to fix it all. I thought my master might be able to help me when she woke,” answers the man. He’s stayed in his armor and mask, so I can’t see expressions at all, but he’s got a trustworthy voice—real sad, though.

“Can I take a look?” asks King David, “I may be able to help.”

The man hesitates, then says, “Yes. Uhm. —alright. –Might I ask who the rest of you are?” like he knows it was stupid to still be untrusting at this point, but he can’t help it. I think he and the other spirit must be friends, because I can’t imagine him being this level of protective over a complete stranger, and it’s about how I expect I’d be with Robin or Geronimo.

“You first,” says Robin at the same time Emiya says, “After you,” and they both look incredibly pissed that the other had the exact same impulse.

“Right. My apologies,” says the man formally, and I buy that—he seems frazzled and stressed. “My true name is Antonio Salieri.”

God damn it. I try to smile and not let my absolute lack of knowledge show on my face. Now there’s two spirits in the party whose names I have never even heard—this sucks. It always feels low-key rude not to know. It looks like King David’s in the same boat as me, so I feel a little bit better, but Robin and Emiya I think recognize it.

“And him?” asks Robin. Emiya was definitely about to say almost the same thing, but he stops himself from overlapping this time and gets some kind of an expression on his face.

“—I’m Billy the Kid,” I interject as friendly as I can, because I feel like we’re pilin’ it on a little harsh here.

“Thank you,” he tells me, then turning to the others, “This is Mozart—Wolfgang Amadeus.”

Oooooh, the composer! That’s pretty cool. Robin and Emiya both get incredibly strange looks on their faces, though, and I know Robin well enough to tell he’s suddenly trying really hard not to laugh nervously. The heck’s that about?

“King David,” chimes in King David, oblivious to this and holding up a finger in greeting. Salieri turns to stare at him. Then he begins softly to laugh hysterically, and everyone gets real quiet.

He doesn’t seem to realize how weird that is, and just looks down at the body in his arms and says, “It appears once again God looks out for you only, and particularly.”

“Guys?” I prompt in the hopes of turning this conversation back to semi-normal, and because it’s kinda bad form not to exchange names once an ally tells you theirs.

“Robin Hood,” says Robin, punching his timecard back into the present.

“…Emiya,” says Emiya like he doesn’t want to answer.

Salieri glances back up, serious and normal again, and nods slowly.

“May I?” says King David again, and Salieri obliges. King David starts looking over Mozart thoughtfully, muttering to himself in what I’m pretty sure has gotta be Hebrew, and he flicks his wrist without looking and his kinnor appears by him. As I watch, he shuts his eyes and begins to play. It’s the longest and most intricate melody I’ve heard from him, and it’s fascinating to listen to. Beautiful. Nothing I’ve ever heard before either, and he sings softly with it in his own tongue. It’s…really incredible. I’ve heard some pretty good piano players and guitarists in my own day, but seeing somebody like this, you understand for the first time the concept of a genius on an instrument—it’s so unlike anything I’ve heard before, it’s like it’s a totally different thing than what I thought of as music. While he plays, the glowing purple markings start to twist and dissolve on Mozart’s skin, a piece and a few at a time from foot-to-head, and as they go, his body begins to repair itself. It’s a strange thing to watch, curses leaving a body, but it's pretty amazing too.

“Damn,” I whisper under my breath.

“You said it,” agrees Robin softly with a smile.

“So, uh?” I ask, focusing my attention back on Ritsuka and glancing over at Emiya, “Any way to wake her up?”

“You could smack her,” says Emiya offhand, and then there’s a half-second delay and he gets a look on his face that says very clearly he did not think before speaking and wishes greatly he had. He grimaces, and gives Ritsuka a glance, then reaches out with his free hand.

“—You ain’t gonna smack her, right?” I make sure—to bother him, not because I’m really worried he would.

Emiya sighs at me and I grin. He places a hand on her chest and I watch geometric patterns runs along her skin for a moment.

“She used too many circuits she wasn’t used to using,” he tells me, eyes still on Ritsuka, “Flooded them and burned herself out a little. –She’ll be fine, though—I’ve seen a lot worse of the same. I think it just tired her out, the same way an intense amount of physical exertion someone isn’t used to might after an adrenaline rush would. This should help her wake up.”

He removes his hand, and the patterns vanish. Ritsuka stays still for a few seconds, then groans and turns a little in my arms to snuggle against my shoulder, muttering incoherently, and I smile.

“Thanks,” I say to Emiya. He gives a nod. “How’s the lancer doing?” I add with a little concern. I really expected him to wake up again already. Emiya’s expression darkens and closes off.

“It’s complicated,” he answers after a moment, “But not well. …I can’t really fix what’s wrong with him; neither can David, and the problem’s not his mana supply from the kid. It’s what they did before, and don’t think any of us can fix it.”

“Not even with a command spell?” I ask, taken aback and feeling a chill settle on me. Thinking about him vanishing and getting dragged back here to…that shit again. We got to raze this place to a pile of ash. A part of me wonders if that’ll really be enough, though. We’re lucky in that mages tend to guard any breakthrough like hoard of gold, but at the same time, these mages are selling, and if they’re selling, god knows how much they were willing to part with for money.

Emiya shrugs. “A spell could forestall death a little, but they’re not really meant for repairing a spirit origin with a gaping hole in it. This is something that’d take time and experience to figure out, if it can be fixed. The good news is that he’s not going to die in the next few hours or anything, unless he takes a lot more damage—if there’s one thing he excels at, it’s being damn near impossible to put in the dirt quickly—so, we don’t have to rush for a solution while we’re here. If we stay focused and on task, we should have a chance after we deal with this place. And if not, so long as we bring this place down, he should at least be able to avoid being brought back here.”

He's really thought this through. I know he’s a tactical fighter anyway, even not having known him long, but something about the amount of detail makes me think despite the weird interaction they must be some kind of friends. I’m distracted from considering that any further though, because Ritsuka shifts a little again and opens her eyes about halfway. “Mnnn…” She blinks unevenly at my vest, then turns her head up and squints at me. “…Billy?”

“Heya,” I say with a smile, feeling immense relief seein’ her up, “Feelin’ better?”

“Oh?” says Emiya, moving in too, “You’re up faster than I expected.” I feel pretty sure that’s his version of saying he’s relieved to see her okay.

“I am?” asks Ritsuka, still a little foggy.

“Hey kid,” says Robin, leaning over from the other side, “I see you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to.”

“No I didn’t,” she mumbles, blinking and trying to focus, “I was gonna call. I almost did—when I thought I was in trouble. But it was okay. I met a new…Oh!” Her eyes get clearer, and she tries to sit up before realizing she is being held and can’t very much like this. “Antonio! I met this other spirit—did you find—“

“—Don’t worry,” says Emiya, “He’s safe and sound; we already met.” I move to accommodate her view. “He’s right over there with David and Mozart.”

Salieri and King David are both looking over already, and King David gives a grin in greeting but keeps playing. Salieri starts to say something, but Ritsuka does before he gets a chance.

“With—‘Mozart’?” she asks, face scrunched up, looking from him to the other three and staring with absolute blankness at them “—The…composer?? Where did he come from?”

Wait.

“Wait, you weren’t—you didn’t contract with that one?” asks Robin before I can.

“No—I never saw him before,” says Ritsuka, just as confused, “Do I need to?”

Ohhhhh—of course. Salieri didn’t think she could contract with more than one person, and he said she passed out soon as the two of them made a pact—we’re all idiots. I can’t believe I didn’t even think to check.

“Hey,” says Robin to Salieri, almost accusingly, “How’s your friend still solid?”

“I’m maintaining him,” answers Salieri, almost taken aback, “I can’t for long, but I can slow down his consumption. It’s a…” He glances back at Ritsuka and sees the same confused look on her face and his tone changes immediately, warmer. “class ability. Mana replenishment.”

“What class?” says Robin, in a tone that tracks, because I have never heard that one before either.

“…Avenger,” answers Salieri after a moment. ‘Avenger’? “You’re awake again,” he adds to Ritsuka in the most friendly tone I’ve heard from him, “Are you alright?”

“…Antonio?” asks Ritsuka, staring at him.

It takes him a second to realize why she looks that way, then he gives an, “Oh,” and flicks his wrist, and the helmet vanishes to reveal his face again.

“Oh—hi,” says Ritsuka, a little stunned still, “I’m sorry—I didn’t recognize you for a second—that’s really cool armor you have.”

He doesn’t look like he knows how to process or respond to that.

“I think I’m okay now. A little tired and sore, but pretty good actually—How about you? How are you feeling?” she adds. “Better? -I hope?”

Again, he seems taken off guard by the question, but he glances down at himself, then up at her. “I’m…alright. Certainly better than I was, at the least. Thank you.”

She smiles. “Good. Sorry I passed out before explaining anything.”

“Well, it’s no wonder,” he says, looking at the assembled people she’s keeping up, “And I think I’m fairly up to speed now.”

“Did you rescue him on your own?” asks Ritsuka, indicating Mozart. He nods. “And that’s Mozart? The composer?”

“Yes,” says Salieri with a very specific tone that I weirdly can’t place.

“Wow,” says Ritsuka. She hesitates and looks over the whole group before looking up and settling on me, “How long was I out?”

“I don’t think too long—maybe ten, fifteen minutes?” I suggest.

“You work fast,” she says to Salieri with a grin, “Thanks for saving him!”

Salieri, king of not knowing how to respond, looks back blankly for a moment then gives a hesitant nod.

“Uhm,” she continues, glancing up at me, “I think I can stand up now, if you put me down.”

“Oh! Sure thing,” I say, setting her down but keeping my hands up in case she isn’t as steady as she thinks. She’s not, but she catches herself just fine, then gives herself a second to get her sea legs back before trying to walk again.

“Sure you’re okay?” asks Robin.

She nods. “I’m just a little dizzy. I really do feel a lot better—I think I should be able to anchor another one of you just fine once he wakes up.”

“Are you sure though?” I ask, “You got six contracts runnin’ now, and the last one took you out for a little bit. –Don’t you think another one might knock you out even longer?”

“I don’t think so,” says Ritsuka, who in fairness is bouncing back wildly fast, “I know I passed out after making a contract, but I don’t really think that was why; I was already really faint before that—it happened during the fight with the gashadokuros—when that one popped out of the floor, and grabbed us? I think maybe it just hurt me a little or something, and I hadn’t recovered yet.”

“Oh,” I say, heart sinking a little.

“My ribs feel fine now though!” she assures me.

Yeah, I don’t really think it was the gashadokuro that did it. I feel kinda guilty, too, because I knew when I did it I was putting all of us at risk of vanishin’, but what else could I have done? …I mean, we were about to get smashed, and she’s supposed to be my top priority as a servant. Even though she said that ain’t what she wants, if I’m just pickin’ my own priorities for me, that’s still up top. Plus, we all made it, so it turned out okay.

“That was me, I think,” I admit.

She blinks at me and tilts her head.

“I used a noble phantasm,” I explain, “I’m sorry—I knew you were tapped out already, and we’d agreed we’d all have to not, because of about what happened when I did, but I didn’t see another sure way out of you and me gettin’ smashed—and it did work! And turned out fine—so.”

“But. I thought yours doesn’t take much mana?” she asks, confused.

“Well, Thunderer don’t,” I explain, “But I got more than one. Whole lot of us do. And they ain’t the same.”

Beside me, Robin gives a nod.

“Oh.” She thinks about that, then beams at me. “Well wait, that’s great then! If that’s all it was, I don’t have to worry about making contracts!”

I smile back.

“Oh—how’s the lancer doing?” asks Ritsuka, turning to Emiya, seeing for herself how he’s doing, and face falling a little, “He’s still not awake?”

“He was for a little, but he passed out again—probably when you did,” answers Emiya, “He’s weak, but he’s holding on. In his condition, it’s just going to take more of a mana flow to keep him awake than the rest of us.”

“Okay,” says Ritsuka thoughtfully, “Well. Since I’m awake, that means he’ll probably be feeling better again pretty soon too, right?”

Emiya gives a nod.

I wonder why he doesn’t tell her. I guess he doesn’t want her to worry about something she can’t fix, but I think she should know. I would tell her now, if Emiya and the lancer didn’t seem to be some kind of weird friends, because that means he might know and be doing what the lancer would want if he was up to pick for himself.

“Okay—can you let me know as soon as he wakes up?” she ask. He nods. “Did the plan go okay?”

I give a nod, and Robin says, “Sure thing—we left them on an upper level, made sure to give personnel a chance to flee, but scare them enough to motivate them. It’s gotten quiet too, so I expect they’ve un-summoned the things.”

“That’s amazing!,” she says, “Wow, everybody did a really good job on their own. Thank you—OH! Wait—Mozart—this means we’ve got all seven—six, I mean, right? –One for each catalyst?”

“Think so,” I agree.

“I haven’t sensed any more of us,” adds Emiya slowly, “Which should mean all that’s left is bringing the building down, and destroying research. Taking care of staff.”

Ritsuka looks worried by the last note there, but she nods seriously.

“So we go looking for heads of staff next?” I ask.

Emiya gives a nod.

“We should find the security office then—checking the tech will probably be the quickest way to find them,” says Robin, then with a sigh, “Damn shame we didn’t pick up an assassin. They’d have come in real handy right about now.”

Ritsuka turns to Salieri and David, I think because I’m gettin’ more used to her problem-solving style, to ask about Mozart’s class in case it’s Assassin, but when she gets a real look at Mozart with her full sense intact, what she was gonna say goes right out of her head and she freezes and just looks horrified instead. Then takes a little step closer and asks, “…What happened to him?”

“Some intricate curses,” answers King David, still playing his kinnor, “It’s a nasty bit of spell work, but I can undo it—I’m almost done. It’ll take a little for his vessel to repair itself after the curses are gone, especially with such a weak supply of magic, but it should work just fine.”

“We should get moving,” circles back Robin quietly to just Emiya and me, watching them, “The yokai scattered them pretty well for us, but that won’t last us forever. Don’t want to tempt fate here.”

“Which one was the kunai?” asks Emiya in the same tone.

“Huh?” I say, taking about five seconds to mentally shift subjects back to catalysts, “Oh. Uh.”

…Who was the kunai? I try to mentally figure this through. “Picture,” I say pointing to myself, then gesturing to Robin, “Coin.”

“Earring,” says Emiya, indicating the ones the lancer is wearing.

“Earring,” I echo in confirmation, then glance at King David and the other two. “…I…King David’s gotta be the pitcher, right? And one of them must be the letter, the other the knife—could Salieri be the kunai?”

“If it was a common dagger, maybe,” says Emiya, “But a kunai? For a classical Italian composer?”

He’s got a point.

“Let’s find out,” says Robin, then louder, to Salieri, King David, and Ritsuka, “—Hey—sorry, quick question. These people had six catalysts for sure, and we have found six of us now. But we’re not sure they match up. –Don’t want to leave someone behind, you know. So, aside from us, there was a pitcher, a kunai knife, and a letter. We’re assuming you weren’t the letter or the knife,” he adds to King David, who gives a nod.

“From that list, I would have to be the pitcher—it was probably an oil pitcher,” confirms King David.

“That leaves two, and two of you, but neither of you make sense for the kunai,” says Robin.

“No, we don’t,” agrees Salieri, glancing up from the body in his arms, “We were both the letter.”

“You were both the letter?” I ask.

“Yes. It was from him, about me,” says Salieri tiredly, “And it called us both.”

That’s the worst possible timing to get dual-summoned anywhere. Almost any other situation it would at least be nice to be in a foxhole with an old friend. Talk about grim luck, I think. “So we’re still one short?”

“…I guess,” says Emiya slowly, “Or they simply haven’t used it yet. It seems like most of you haven’t been here long yet, Lancer only a few days; we don’t really know what schedule they’re on. The research stations aren’t far from us or the security huh, though—If we go there first, we can probably find the answer.”

“That sounds smart,” says Ritsuka hopefully, “Let’s do that—we can’t leave somebody.”

“So was that a success?” Robin asks King David, glancing over at Mozart. The composer looks a lot better now. The glowing curses are gone, and while his body still looks kind of messed up, it looks a lot less on the verge of death. I guess that’s in line with what King David said. Still, poor guy is still pale and breathing shallow and weak. Whatever the spells were, they must have been hell on him.

“Yes, his vessel is resetting itself,” says King David proudly. He lets go of his kinnor and it vanishes. “It was some intensely specific spell work, they have a gifted and dangerous mage on staff. The mental effects should be already gone as they were more curse alone than inflicted physical damage, but it’ll just take however long it takes for his mana supply to replenish him enough to heal the rest.” He absently pats Mozart’s head once which almost startles Salieri. “Poor man. They really did a number.”

“Will it be enough?” Ritsuka asks, glancing up at Salieri, “To heal him okay, if it’s just from you? –I’d form a contract with him if he was awake, but, I can’t—I could give you a command spell though, for the energy, if you need it!”

“That’s kind,” says Salieri, “but you should keep them for true emergencies.” He looks at the man in his arms fondly and a little sadly. “I can tell he’s bouncing back remarkably fast as well, for all the damage done, so I expect he’ll be alright in a short time if things continue the way they are. He won’t be in danger of vanishing before that happens.”

“That’s good,” says Ritsuka, clearly relieved.

“We should get moving, then,” Robin almost interrupts, “We’ve already been in one place too long, and we can’t afford to lose momentum—especially if they’ve got tricks like earlier at their disposal. They seem to have temporarily lost us, and I’d love to keep it that way.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka, straightening up, “Okay—if David’s done, then let’s go.”

David gives a nod.

“Could one of you carry him?” asks Salieri hurriedly, like he’s afraid we’ll take off first.

It takes me a second to get that he means Mozart despite how obvious that should be, just because it’s so totally out of left field as a thing I’d expect him to say.

“I can continue to sustain his mana if I’m fairly close, and I can trade—I’ll take that one,” he adds quickly, indicating the lancer Emiya has, which visibly throws Emiya more than anything I’ve seen since Ritsuka calling him ‘Dad’, “—I have no trouble fighting while holding someone, but if I keep Mozart with me much longer, I may kill him.”

…

“You’ll what?” says Ritsuka.

“I. May kill him,” Salieri echoes himself quietly, glancing down at the unconscious body in his arms.

“…But.” says Ritsuka helplessly. Yeah.

“I thought you were friends?” I ask, lost myself.

“We are,” agrees Salieri, “Or—I am. I. Was—it’s complicated. I, Salieri, was his friend—am, his friend, but, I, as I am now—as the thing that has been carved onto the throne, am also his sworn enemy.” He’s struggling a little. It’s strange. Aside from the one time he went into hysterics he’s seemed as normal as the rest of us, but it’s suddenly like he’s trying really hard not to completely fall apart—not in a crying way—like he’s frazzled and shaky mentally all of a sudden, and struggling to ground himself. It…makes me sad. Almost agonized, he turns to Emiya and Robin like some last-ditch hope. “Tell me—you recognized my name. What do you know it from?”

Robin doesn’t answer, but Emiya says, “Stories. About you killing Mozart.” There’s something about his tone. Low, and something else too. Between pity and understanding. I think he gets what’s going on, even though I don’t yet. Though. …I think I might be afraid I’m starting to…

“Yes,” says Salieri bitterly, “That’s what everyone remembers, true or not, and so it is what the Throne wanted, and what the throne got.”

Oh.

Oh God. … I—s-shit. That’s…I’ve heard of that happening before, sort of. I’ve met people, just a few, that were a little like this—people from stories so many folks believed were true, the throne grabbed someone as like them as possible, and twisted them—fucked with their personalities and memory and abilities, and threw them on the throne as only a little who they were before, and a lot who it wanted to force them to be, to try and make someone who never was. I hadn’t thought about that happening with personal rumor—public opinion versus the truth, but of course it must. Which is…awful. …

“But you didn’t,” says Ritsuka, a question, but not at all a ‘did you?’—it’s very much a ‘so it doesn’t make sense?’.

Salieri glances at her and smiles a little sadly, exhales slow. “No. I didn’t. But that doesn’t get to matter for me now. I’m an Avenger.”

“I.” Ritsuka looks at him, then us, settles on Emiya, “I don’t know what that means.”

“They’re…embodiments of resentment,” says Emiya in a level tone, “Unlike us, associated with a legacy of skills or feats, they’re tied to an injury or hatred from their life, and manifested as an embodiment of that rage and the desire to chase it—to avenge.”

“So…You’re. …trapped?” she asks slowly, eyes big with worry as she turns back to face Salieri. He watches her solemnly with a kind of resigned, quiet sadness I recognize very well. “As…the desire to. ...”

“Kill him,” finishes Salieri for her simply, “And a personification of hatred of him as well. Always.”

“That’s awful,” says Ritsuka.

He tries to smile at her. “Yes. But there’s no escaping it. I ask only that you take precautions, with both of us here. It will be difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to do so on my own.”

She looks at him, then down at the floor, fist clenched, thinking hard. “But,” she says desperately as she looks up at him again, “But you didn’t do it—you’re still you. From before. You remember everything, right? You said—And you think like you, and—and when I was unconscious, you went and rescued him all on your own; you didn’t kill him!”

“Yes, you could say that,” says Salieri quietly, looking at something far past all of us, and I think maybe long ago, before returning to the present, “But it would be as fair to say that I am only a small part of him—of who I was. And that I am also very much the fabricated Man in Grey whose purpose and desire is to kill him. As well as a manifestation of people’s lies, and their hatred, and my hatred of them for it. I am more than one thing; I am enough things now that I could not say with certainty which one I am even the most, or if I am one the most at all, or if I am truly any of them, but I can say with absolute certainty that I cannot be trusted to stay the one I or you would wish for an entire summons.” He looks at her sadly. “I told you when you offered me a contract that I am dangerous. Not to you, not if you’re careful. But I am afraid I will not be as useful as you would wish. Despite my best efforts…”

“But,” says Ritsuka again, “No—it’s not about that. It’s—"

“—Think of it as like a command spell,” offers Emiya gently, taking a step up to be beside her, “But woven into him on summon, instead of lasting a short time. Even if he’s still who he was, none of us can resist compulsion forever. That’s not his fault or something you can fix for him. It wasn’t added to his manifestation here—it’s an integral part of it. Let him be careful.”

There’s something he doesn’t say, but I hear it just the same, from his tone and his expression, and the one on Salieri’s face. That this is Salieri’s way of trying to be himself, by achieving the goal he’d have wanted, even if it can only be attained by keeping himself at arm’s length and gunpoint.

And I think he’s right.

Ritsuka I think gets it too, at least mostly. She looks from him to Salieri in distress, then lets out a breath and nods. “Okay. …I’m sorry,” she adds, looking up at Salieri with so much sorrow on her face.

He smiles weakly. “Thank you, Master.”

“Oh,” she says worriedly, “please don’t call me that—you can just call me Ritsuka.”

He cocks his head at her.

“Like I said before,” she continues hopefully, “I don’t want a servant—I just want to help.”

“Oh?” says King David, who I’m realizing didn’t get the pitch when we snagged him. He seems both amused and happy about this development.

“Very well, then,” says Salieri, with a little half-bow.

“Oh—and you—” she adds, “Do you prefer Antonio? Or Salieri? Or Mr. Salieri?-“

“Salieri is fine,” he responds.

“Salieri,” she echoes in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get moving—Like Robin said, we’ve already lingered here too long,” says Emiya, moving forward and offering an arm, “I can carry him.”

“Alright, I’ll take yours then,” says Salieri.

“I can take both,” replies Emiya.

“But then how will you fight?” asks Ritsuka.

“Oh for crying out loud,” exclaims Robin, cutting off whatever reply Emiya was about to give and shooting him a look, then turning to Salieri and holding out his own arms, “Here—I’ll take him.”

Salieri passes the body carefully to Robin, though he looks unhappy about doing it.

“Oh—your cloak,” says Ritsuka, taking it off and handing it to Robin.

He glances back and takes it with a wink, casually slinging it over his shoulder, “Next time I lend this, you might want to actually use the invisibility.”

“Well, I did as long as I could,” she tries, but he’s already grinning at her, and she gets she’s being teased and smiles back.

“Let’s move,” calls out Emiya, a little annoyed now, and he takes off. Robin follows, but Salieri and King David both hesitate and glance at Ritsuka.

“I got ‘er!” I call, snagging her with an arm and bolting off after the others. She makes a surprised sound between a laugh and a yelp and then grins at me. I think it must be fun, going this fast when you’re still a human. I woulda enjoyed it for sure. Really should bring her goggles though—what if we have to go really fast at some point? I file that away.

Behind me, Salieri follows close, King David taking up the rear. I’m very glad we got Emiya on the team, because he’s got a good sense of direction and an ability to channel his mana into physical objects to read layouts and mechanical workings. I mean, we’re all not bad at figuring the layout of anywhere as heroic spirits, but the level he’s on is truly impressive. Guess Ritsuka got the summon answer she really needed after all.

As one, we dart down halls and through an empty gallery. Instead of hitting the elevator shaft again, now that they know we’re here, Emiya snaps a hole through the floor above with his bow and just takes the fast route from point A to point B. I can sense people nearby and a lot of mana not far above us myself now. I take a corner right after Robin and by the time I’m in the next hall Emiya has already downed six of eight guards, and Robin is taking shots at the next two. They are quite a tag-team, but I have a strong feeling they would both hate being told that.

“They were surprised,” Emiya informs us mentally, “It appears the distraction with the gashadokuro worked better than expected—they seem scattered.”

We race through this floor, passing offices and closed doors. I sense a large amount of mana behind one, and Emiya must too because he stops to kick it down. There’s no one inside, but there’s an automated familiar defense system, and a bunch of little magecraft wasps fill the air in a swarm. My gut tells me they got some kind of poison, and I slide to the side to take Ritsuka out of the line of fire before taking some shots at the swarm from the cover of the doorway. I’m thinkin’ Emiya, Robin, and I can all easily deal with this, but it’s gonna be hard not to damage everything in the room doing so, when I suddenly hear the sound of a grand piano behind me and turn in I think the only emotion one can have hearing a grand piano where it shouldn’t be, to see Salieri with the faint glowing outline of a phantasmal instrument at his fingertips. His fingers flash across the keys with precision and incredible force, and myriad of little grey figures appear between us and the swarm and destroy them in a flash of light.

“Thanks,” I say, kinda stunned. He gives a nod.

Emiya has wasted no time and is already inside, searching.

“What? Why did we stop here?” Ritsuka asks me.

“Something with a lot of mana was inside—we couldn’t tell what,” I reply, then to Emiya, “What was it?”

“Yours,” says Emiya by way of answer, stepping back out and chucking Robin his coin, which he catches in surprise and then turns over in his fingers with a very hard to read expression on his face. “Yours,” he adds to King David, tossing a clay pitcher, “And yours,” he adds, handing Salieri a very old letter in a sealed package.

“Where’s mine?” I ask at the same time King David says, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I can carry it!” volunteers Ritsuka, “I brought a backpack!”

He can’t seem to think of a reason not to, and gives it to her.

“Yours wasn’t in there,” says Emiya, “Neither was the kunai, or the earring.”

Huh. I…guess maybe it means they were already setting up a circle somewhere, to try and drag me back. That’s a great feeling…

Nothing to do about it though, so I give a nod and let myself puzzle through that while we move towards our target. There are a lot of alarms going off throughout the building now, which isn’t good, but I am starting to notice as we go that the security cameras aren’t tracking our movement. Emiya was taking care of them earlier, but I haven’t seen him do that in a bit—I think we’re past caring. But…

We hit the end of this floor and move up again, right through the floor like before. I hear Emiya’s voice in my head say, “Focus up. We’re nearing the research stations.”

He’s right. The layout of this building has been fairly similar before now, long halls, large rooms, similar numbers of rooms per floor. Interspersed with open areas like walking intersections. This floor is different. We come up in an abandoned office room, but the second we exit it, I see a huge metal door blocking us. I can feel the enchantments on it too—and it’s not just blocking a room, it’s making the entire rest of this floor inaccessible. On top of that, the thing fuckin’ looks like the entrance to a bank vault.

“Talk about extra,” Robin says, thinkin’ the same thing I’m feelin’. He glances at Emiya. “Can you tell if there’s any weakest point to the bounded field?”

Emiya touches the field, and it seems to shock him. He snaps back his hand and shakes it, then reaches his hand up like he’s going to call one of his swords, stops, and grimaces. “…It’s strong, but it’s far from the best one of theirs I’ve seen. I could break it right here, but it might put too much strain on our master.”

“-Ritsuka,” corrects Ritsuka.

“Ritsuka,” he echoes in our heads. He studies the door, then places his hand on the wall beside it, just before where I can sense the bounded field begin, and I feel a surge of mana from him. “I can point you to the weakest spots in the walls, but you’ll have to break the outer seal with your phantasm,” he informs me, “The rest of us don’t have the firepower right now.”

“Let’s go,” I agree, setting Ritsuka down and drawing my gun.

Emiya summons his bow and blows through a wall on our left easily, then indicates a spot to me on the forward wall, about eleven feet beside the door, and 3/4th the way up the wall. “There’s humans past this. Be ready to fight,” he warns us mentally.

I step up. “Let’s do this here and now.” I feel mana from Ritsuka flood me and level my gun with a surge of energy, “Fire!” The bullets tear into the wall and there’s one moment where they’re there in the wall, stuck on the bounded field, still pushing forward but not moving, like watching a fish try and break free from a net, then the bullets win and the wall shatters in a mass of metal and magic shrapnel. Emiya throws up a shield that looks like flower petals to me between us and the debris, and the second the initial burst is over, he dives in through the haze of dust. We all go with him, weapons ready. And he was right—there are people. About six mages sit at workstations, two of them already on their feet, shouting warnings and sending spells our way. There are four guard on our right side, and I can hear more people in the next room too. The first mage up summons a line of long needles, and is tactical enough to send them flying not at Emiya, but at Ritsuka past all of us. I move to deflect them, but Robin does the same ahead of me, furious, knocking them out of the way with his bracer and drawing on the mage who sent them, sending a bolt from his crossbow into their shoulder. The next one is smarter, summoning two golems from the ground to buy time. Robin takes a shot at one just before Emiya physically collides with it, ripping it to shreds with his shortswords, then spinning on his heel and taking the head off the second one. Panicked, the mage starts to cast another spell, but I hit him in the side before he can, and he goes down. It is real hard hitting someone deep enough with a gun that they go down for good, but don’t die, but I am tryin’ my best here. For the little boss.

The other four mages are all up now, and the guards have drawn their guns. King David’s gone in a flash, reappears by the heavily armored group, and starts taking them down with a shepherd’s staff which has to be one of the most cool things I’ve ever witnessed. He’s so floaty. Keeps springboarding off their machine guns when they try to take a shot and kicking them in the head, spinning around in the air and bringing his staff down right on top of another’s helmet. Springboards off that one’s chest as they fall back, then off the first one he hit too to project himself towards the last two, ramming his staff into both their necks at once.

Pretty sure he’s got that covered, I turn my attention back to the remaining four mages. One of them has summoned an arc shield around herself and the woman next to her, while the other is firing bolts of energy at Emiya and Robin from inside, and the other two have split up, one using mana to accelerate their own movement and try to move to flank us, the other getting some distance and trying to coordinate with the others by firing off stuns at range. He actually gets a hit on Emiya’s sword when the guy goes to deflect it in the middle of bringing down a golem and dodging another bolt, not catching it’s a stun in time, but he shakes it off somehow almost instantaneously—That’s right. The bounded field didn’t do much to him before, did it? Or not for long. Maybe he did know what that was. He’s good at that kind of thing. I call behind me to Salieri to take care of the flanker, and take a shot at the guy firing stuns. He manages to summon a shield fast enough to deflect my first shot, but the second one shatters it, and the third slams him in the shoulder and knocks him hard against the far wall hard enough he goes down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Salieri pull what looks like violin strings made of blood from out of his own neck, and use his sword like a bow. Bursts of magic slam into the floor in front of the mage trying to flank us, and they fall partway through the floor and are left unable to dodge the last shot, which slams them squarely in the head and leaves them unconscious. I hope. Haha shit. We forgot to tell him Ritsuka pleaded with us to go non-lethal, huh? Whoops…

Ahead of me, the mage in the shield realizes that hitting Emiya isn’t going to work, and takes a shot at the unconscious lancer on his shoulder instead to throw him off. This has the opposite effect. Emiya barely rotates to keep the guy on his shoulder from being shot, then flings his shortswords at the barrier with so much force it shatters, and he’s in there almost as fast, catching the mage by the throat and flinging her into the far wall. Robin slides in and sweeps the feet out from the other, then knocks her unconscious with an elbow.

“Next room!” calls Emiya, indicating the same door I heard noise behind myself. The faster we go, the less chance they have to set up defenses. It occurs to me all of a sudden we have not assigned someone to bodyguard Ritsuka—a potentially fatal oversight—and slide back to stay with her as ahead of me, Emiya takes down the next door.

“Stay close, okay?” I ask her, trying to reassure her because she looks incredibly overwhelmed. Guess for your average teenager this is a whole lot of intense violence.

“Y-Yeah,” she manages, a little pale.

Shit.

“Hey, Salieri,” I call to him mentally, “Forgot to mention—Ritsuka bein’ a soft-hearted teenager, really wants us to kill as few folks as possible.”

“I’ve been informed,” he responds the same way, “She begged me to be merciful when I went to attack.”

I check with the senses I have as a servant to see if I can pick up the sound of the guy breathing from here. I can. Damn, I think, watching Salieri follow the others, And you held back. Guess you really like her too.

“Don’t worry—we’re doing what we promised,” I tell Ritsuka, “I can hear the heartbeats. –We’re holdin’ back.”

That seems to reassure her, and she gives me a nod. I pick her up and run after the others. They’re already breaking into a fight when I make the door. Less people here—just a couple security officers guarding the room, two people working tech diagnostics of some kind at terminals connected to a very large databank, plus one mage who seems to be overseeing things. The tech workers have taken one look at us and gone for the smartest human solution—an attempt to surrender—and curled up under one of the desks with their hands over their heads. The mage is shouting at them, and us, and security. One of the security members tries to shoot us, but King David lands a shot from his slingshot down the barrel faster than he can pull the trigger, and the weapon explodes on the guy. Emiya launches a couple swords at the other and pins him to a wall. The mage throws up a hand and starts to summon something, but I cap him in the knee and he falls to the ground cursing, then gets a kick to the head from Robin that lays him flat.

Beside us, Emiya flips the desk the tech workers are under and sends it skittering across the room and they both scream and try to crawl back. He’s way too fast to avoid, though, and darts past them, hitting them both behind the neck in passing, and they collapse, unconscious.

Emiya informs us mentally we’re almost to the core research station. That means probably a lot of people.

“When we get there, we’ll be able to find out if they summoned the last one?” checks Ritsuka.

“Probably,” comes Emiya’s reply, “Unless they’ve predicted us and flushed the system, we should be able to, so the faster we go in, the better.”

“Do you think they know where we are right now? The defenses have been surprisingly uncoordinated,” says Robin, flexing his fingers absently to keep them limber.

“There’s something wrong with security,” agrees Emiya, “Like we guessed before. Whatever is happening, it’s clearly deliberate, and I think it’s likely at this point we can agree it’s not a trap—it’s someone working towards their own goal.”

“Oh yeah! There definitely is! Someone was helping me earlier,” cuts in Ritsuka, “—I forgot-“

“-You forgot?” asks Robin.

“So much happened!” says Ritsuka, “But yeah, you were right,” she adds, turning to Emiya, “Someone is either helping us, or trying to hurt Ur-shanabi—or both—because they opened the door to Salieri’s cell for me, and sent me a message to go in.”

“Oh my god and she went,” says Robin so quiet only I can hear him. I feel him. You’re so nice but that sounds like such an obvious trap, I think, feeling the same distressed emotion I hear in Robin’s voice.

She reads the look on our faces. “Well, it worked! And they didn’t try and hurt me at all,” she pleads, “So my intuition was right!”

“I understand trusting your gut, and I respect that,” says Emiya very tiredly, “But please. Don’t do that in every suicidal situation that presents itself to you?”

“—Either way, that’s good, right?” says Ritsuka, “It helps us.”

“It does,” concedes Emiya in an exhausted done, “Probably, anyway. I wish you’d given us the full version earlier, because we really can’t postpone hitting the hub any longer without giving them way too much time to flush information or prepare. Once we’re out, please tell us everything.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka with a nod, serious now, “Sorry.”

He returns the nod. Then gets an annoyed look on his face. “…Shit, if whoever is attacking Ur-shanabi is tapped in enough they’re communicating openly and controlling security feeds and doors for extended periods of time, we might run into trouble trying to hit the security station to find organization heads. We might not be able to access their information there at all.”

Oh. Shit… “What then?” I ask, “We still try and figure it out if that fails?”

“It’ll be dangerous to try and comb the whole building, if it comes that,” offers Salieri thoughtfully, “We should move preemptively if we can.”

“He has a point,” agrees Emiya. He considers. “Robin, you’re by far the best scout here. You should split off and try and find any head offices or command centers they have, or any leads on where leadership might be that you can find. If security is totally down, that’s the best shot we’ve got.”

Robin gives a nod and flips up his hood.

“Will you be okay alone?” Ritsuka asks worriedly.

“Sure he will,” I answer for him, “I never knew anybody better at keeping a low profile in a tight situation.”

Robin snorts and gives me a smile. “Something like that. –Who’s taking the composer?”

“I can,” says King David, happily taking Mozart from Robin and slinging him over both shoulders like he’s carrying a sheep. I feel like maybe I oughtta volunteer, since I ain’t at all so far, but I’m even shorter than King David…

“Alright. Best of luck,” says Robin with a two-fingered solute. He activates May King and vanishes.

“Okay!” Ritsuka calls after him, “But if you get into trouble, call to me, and I’ll use a spell!”

I hear him laugh quietly. “Well if that ain’t familiar,” he says, the sound of a smile in his voice, and he’s gone then.

“Okay—let’s be quick,” says Emiya, to the rest of us, “Last time they figured out where we were, they sent yokai after us.”

#fate go fic #the kid (fic)#the kid #fate grand order #fate go au #fate go au fic #fate fic #billy the kid #emiya archer #fate salieri #fate billy the kid #ritsuka fujimaru #fate robin hood #fate king david #writing

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spooky-luvur · 4 years

Note

So I feel like these characters have never been in a fic before- Can you do something with Arthur and his male partner during the scene at the Aberdeen pig farm (the weird asf incest couple) and Arthur getting really over protective

Sorry if this is super late anon I didn’t get the notification :(

I only just recently played that mission and the whole time I was just as stiff and uncomfortable as Arthur was I genuinely thought they were cannibals and we’re gonna eat me. Well, eat Arthur.

Glad I got to blow their heads off with a shotgun

Also fun fact! I’m writing this on a plane

“Arthur, you sure this tip is good?”

“Well, I did get it from a feller who just got out of jail.”

You shoot him a look.

“I ain’t sayin nothing, but relax. Farmers usually got lots o’ money anyway. If they ain’t good, shoot ‘em and run.”

“If you say so..”

Probably the last thing you expected to see from the house you were gonna rob was a very fat man in nothing but overalls reclining on the front porch. You and Arthur stop in your tracks, glancing at each other. Should you go back? And leave all the money behind?

Before you can decide what to do, the fat man notices the both of you awkwardly standing there.

“Well hey there friends!”

You swallow, moving your hand slightly to brush your wrist against the handle of your gun.

“Don’t be shy, partners! No such thing as strangers here!” His eyes trail over both of you, staying on you for a little longer than necessary. He grins.

“Yeah, you two look like you need to take a load off...”

The door suddenly opens, drawing yours and Arthur’s attention. A thin yet busty woman steps into the porch, a light smile on her pale face.

“Well...” she drawls, “ain’t this a rare treat?” She goes to stand beside the man, placing a hand on his chest. So it was a couple. “Why did you tell me we had guests comin’? I’da fixed myself up nice...”

Couple of lunatics.

“Aw, now, you know you look perfect princess...” fatty laughs.

“Erm, we ain’t no guests, Miss,” Arthur glances at you. “Just passin’ through.”

The man waves his hand. “Oh, nonsense, come on in, rest a while. We got food on the stove, and a bottle of the good stuff we been savin.”

“It’s decided then,” the woman steps back into the house. “I’m gonna go freshen up...” her voice is light, seductive as she winks at you.

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “We appreciate the offer but we best be on our way.”

“Oh, come on now!” Spreading his arms wide, he grins at Arthur. “Are you gonna turn down a hot meal and good company? Ha! I’ll go open that bottle!”

Arthur sighs heavily. “I don’t like this.”

You place a hand on his arm, frowning. “Me neither. But think about the money, Arthur. We could really use it. And like you said, thing go south, we hightail outta there.”

He shakes his head, thinking it over. Eventually, he nods.

“Okay.”

“Hey there they are!”

Fat Man (sorry if that’s offensive idk what else to call him other than man and besides- outlaws were mean) is already sitting at the rickety-looking table. “Come on in! Come on!” He gestures for you to sit.

Arthur makes you sit in the seat further away, giving you a look once you open your mouth to question him.

“I hope she ain’t preppin’ for hours up there or we’ll never eat!” He turns his attention to you, a weird smile on his face.

“Hey, tiny, go check on her, will ya?”

You begin to stand, but Arthur’s firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“No...I’ll do it. He can stay here.”

Fat Man shrugs. “Fine by me! I just wanna eat!”

Yeah, you could tell.

After a few moments Arthur and the woman come back down, an odd look on Arthur’s face. You try questioning him, but he quickly shakes his head, taking a seat while she goes to the stove.

“Well ain’t this just about perfect!” Fatty says in a weird voice. “Just one of them moments you wish could last forever.”

“Like we said, we can’t stay long,” you give him a fake smile.

“Just look at us,” the man waves a hand at you and Arthur. “Like a couple of old friends.” He laughs as the woman sets plates down on the table. “It’s a short life, but a merry one.”

You look up from the food to see the woman looking at you with dark eyes. She’s bent over in such a way you could tell she’s purposely trying to show you as much cleavage as possible. Her husband doesn’t even seem to notice, or if he did, he doesn’t care. She giggles as you quickly avert your eyes. Right after, there’s a strong hand on your thigh, gripping tightly just above your knee. You glance over at Arthur, but he’s looking at the man.

“All the fixens. I hope you boys left some room in your trousers.” She looks between you and Arthur, a smirk on her face. “I can tell there ain’t much.”

Fatty inhales deeply and moans, opening his eyes to look at his wife. “That smells delicious.” He takes her hand. “Food don’t smell too bad neither.” They both laugh as he pulls her to sit on his lap.

“Oh, stop it, you!”

The continue to laugh, turning their attention to Arthur and you who’d been trying the food.

“How do you like it?” The woman asks.

Arthur nods. “Mm, it’s good. Different.”

The woman goes to get another chair from the side of the room as Fatty eats the food, moaning.

“That meat is so tender...” he glances at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

You pause from eating another piece. “Yes, it’s uhm, good...”

“And you know what? This place it used to be a pig farm- when we was-“ he picks at his teeth. “when we was kids?”

Wha- oh...oh dear...oh dear...

It hits you before it hits Arthur. You place down your fork slowly, loosing your appetite.

He continues. “Before we lost our Ma and Pa...horrible business.”

The woman’s mouth tightens into a thin line as she shakes her head. “Horrible.”

“But we still got each other ain’t that right honey pie?”

That’s when it hits Arthur.

“And we still know how to have a hog killin’ time.” (someone told me what she said ty)

You meet his eyes. He glances at the door before glancing back at you. You shrug, shoulders stiff.

“Here, here, that’s for you...”

They both feed each other food with their forks, eyes locked in a intimate moment, both moaning once they taste the others food. They don’t seem to remember you and Arthur were there until they slowly turned their heads. An awkward moment of silence passes before the woman puts down her forks abruptly.

“Where are my manners? Drinks!”

“Yeah, I could defiantly use a drink.” Arthur shakes just head, making you quietly snort.

“And you, sugar?” The woman smiles at you, holding a bottle.

“Yeah.” You really needed to forget all this in the morning.

She laughs, pouring you and Arthur each a small glass.

Arthur downs his in one gulp, and he immediately recoils at the taste. He clears his throat, looking at you.

‘Fucking strong’ are what his eyes tell you.

You down yours too, coughing. It burns your trait and stings your eyes. It’s strong that’s for damn sure. Stronger than any whiskey you’ve ever had. Doesn’t taste like anything you’ve ever had neither. It leaves an unpleasant feeling in your mouth and your gut.

“Ha! That stuff’ll put hair on your chest!”

“Oh, I doubt the big one needs that,” the woman rounds the table with the bottle, passing Arthur as she says that. But she stops at you, putting a hand on your shoulder and slowly sliding it down your partly open shirt and across your chest. You tense, holding your breath.

Oh, you can feel Arthur’s anger.

“But this one here needs some more. Whadda ya say, hun? Let’s loosen the both of you up some more.” She removes your hand, much to yours and Arthur’s relief, and goes back around the table to sit on her *brothers* lap.

Neither of you say anything, only looking at each other. You can tell Arthur doesn’t want to stay.

But the money is the main thing on your mind at the moment.

You just barely nod your head, and Arthur understands. He clenches his jaw, and begrudgingly takes another shot of the strange alcohol. The siblings laugh gleefully, looking at you for your turn.

You’re way lighter on alcohol than Arthur. Only your second shot and your head is already swirling.

The three are talking, laughing, but you don’t hear anything. You sway in your seat, pain flowing throughout your entire body. The last thing you feel is someone picking you up before everything goes black.

“Woo wee, we done and got ourselves a real nice one here!”

“We sure did!”

Ugh, what in the hell did you drink?

Your bleary eyes blink open. You’re standing, but your eyes are tied above your head and around a high railing of the stairs. You’re on your feet but barley. For a moment nothing is clear before you focus on the large figure of the Fat Man and his sister not two feet away from you.

“Oh, you sons of bitches,” you groan, hanging your head. Just listen to Arthur next time you moron.

They both laugh.

“Mama would be real proud of us wouldn’t she sugar?”

“She sure would honeybun!”

The woman turns back to you, getting on her knees. You struggle against the bonds, pushing your self as far away from the crazy woman as possible.

“Oh, don’t be shy, sugar, I only wanna taste you!” She giggles and puts one hand on your crotch and the other on your hip.

“You crazy bastards! Where’s Arthur!”

“Oh he won’t be back for a while, now hold still darlin’-“

Right as she reaches to unbuckle your belt, the front door flies open and a gun immediately goes off. The woman gasps in horror, rising to her feet. The large body of her brother crumples to the ground.

”NO!!!”

She screams, rushing at- thank the heavens- Arthur. Before she can reach him another shot goes off and she crumples right on top of Fatty.

You take a deep breath, head rolling back in relief.

“(M/n)? (M/n)!”

Arthur catches you once he cuts your bonds, holding you to his chest in a crushing grip.

“Goddamn, you alright?! The hell did they do to you?!”

“Nothin’ thanks to you.” You give him a long kiss, holding his face in your hands. He pulls away to put his forehead against yours and you can see the unshed tears in his eyes.

“Thought I damn near lost you...”

“It’s okay, Arthur. I’m alive, and they aren’t. Now, where is that money?”

——

#rdr2 #rdr2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #arthur morgan x male reader #rdr2 arthur x male reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #request #anon request

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jidai · 3 years

Text

jidai’s budget mutuals/friends appreciation

Hi, all! I’m quite late with this but I decided to put a small friends and mutual appreciations post in hopes of brightening up the end of this year a little bit. ❤️ If you were tagged, please make sure to check below for a small little message from me. However, I want to make it very clear that I truly appreciate all of my mutuals. You guys brighten up my dash and always reblog or create so many funny and creative posts. I just wanted to give a few special shout outs to those that have taken out the time to reach out and interacted with me past my ask box or we just see each other often.

The messages are ordered by your URL, so you might have to scroll for awhile before you see your messages. I’m so sorry lmao.

Happy New Years, everyone!

@25th, Nonnie, the Young Genius. bro, remind me how old you are 🧍‍♀️ Like my brain CANNOT fathom the thought that you’re so skilled at SO many things and you’re not even in your twenties??? PLEASE SPARE THE TALENT. i will even accept crumbs. But I’m writing to tell you that you are such a wonderful presence on my dash. I always look forward to your gfx. They’re so SO good and you’re improving from one post to another. Like WOW. Now, you’re even starting an art blog, too? You’re so dedicated to the arts. I respect that a lot. Your hard work and commitment will bring you very far in life, whatever you decide to do.

I love interacting with you. You’re such a big sweetheart and full of positivity and energy. I look forward to seeing more of your art and gfx ❤️

@biscuitwalk, Dann, the AK Wiz. Dann, I know you’re not as active on here so idk when or if you will ever read this but I want to say that I miss you and your creations so, so much. I will say it a hundred times over and OVER but you inspire me so goddamn much. You have no fucking idea. Your works are absolutely gorgeous and unique. I can look at it once and I can instantly recognize your style (and your cute lil’ pufferfish <3). The way you utilize colors and implement various techniques, shapes, textures into your work. Goddamn, you’re so good. I always look to your work if I ever need inspiration and they help me brainstorm. God, I wish I could put it into words how much I adore your works.

We didn’t really talk for long but you seemed like such a kind and fun person to be around. I wish you the best in your future endeavors, wherever you are. Stay safe <3

@elriccs, Mirai, the Short King. 🧍‍♀️ ok look I know, I know I’m TERRIBLE at replying to you and I’m so fucking sorry. I absolutely love to talk to you but my dumbass cannot seem to reply in a timely manner LASELKSAL. That’s on me and I gotta do better. Anyways!!! Thank you SO fucking much for always leaving such kind messages on my work. I swear to god you’re one of my biggest hype man and I ALWAYS look forward to reading your tags. They’re so funny and it makes me all tingly and happy inside. Bro, like, you just radiate big fun vibes, bro. I really hope that I can get to know you better so I can just insult you until it’s too late to walk away </3

And of course, let me also remind you that I love your works so much. They way that you utilize your textures and those muted colors... OOMPH *chefs kiss* I will always love--

@lockhvrts, Em the Soulsborne GOD. hi em 🥺 it’s been awhile since I’ve had a proper conversation with you and I hope you’re doing okay! I miss you and our conversations where we do nothing but geek out and complain about the game industry lmao. if you manage to read this, I just wanted to let you know I miss your presence here. It’s been kinda dull not seeing your beautiful soulsborne gifs and your game rants. Let’s catch up soon. <3 stay safe and well!

@nathanprescutt, Benn, the Man. BENNNNNNNN. I love you a lot bro. I know we haven’t had long conversations for some time and I hope I can change that! You were my first friend on this blog and I will always appreciate it. I remember us just geeking out over your works and how I would always send you a gfx request like once a week LMAO. The one thing that I have always appreciated about you was the fact that you’re very opinionated (if not, very vocal on your stance on things) and you hold your ground. There were a few time where you encouraged me to speak on topics that I think I shouldn’t and that stuck with me for quite awhile. I’m still a nervous rambling mess when it comes to debates but just know that the one time you supported me to voice my opinion--I hold it very dear to my heart.

While I don’t spend much time together, I will always remember our animal crossing session. It was so much fun just trashing and chilling on your island. Especially the bar :( that bar was fucking AMAZING. Maybe once FFXVI comes out, we can geek out hehe

Also, thank you so much for sending in photos of all your doggos, omg. I miss seeing them so much I hope they’re doing well. Stay hot, my German bro lol. Ich bin sehr dankbar, so eine tolle Freundin zu haben. ❤️❤️❤️

@noxdivina, Lin the Big Dick Daddy Kind. The church is open for business bitch and I’m here to preach the GOSPEL.

Okay, jokes aside, I’m really happy that we became mutuals. You’ve always give off this like, mysterious cosmic vibe (????? huh). And your selfies just further proves that you are wtf. But you’re always so kind to those that you interact with. You’re an absolutely sweetheart and like I just want to give you a giant hug every time we interact. You’re such a soft human being. It’s so nice being around you. It’s like being tossed in the oven and baked at 250 degrees F for 25 minutes. And to boot you’re really talented, hello? God really said let there be a perfect human being and yeeted you into the universe. Thank you for always leaving such kind messages and words in my DM/askbox/works. I cherish them so much. I hope I can get to know you better in the future bc you’re rad, bro <3

anyways, updated drawing of u and maya:

i always assume you’re in a black fur parka 24/7 and maya is coatless neck down. also deck me with those jacked arms of yours thanks 🧍‍♀️

(edit: fuck i forgot to draw a PARTY HAT ON MAYA IM SORRY)

@rokuseis, Sei, the Dumber.

i have nothing to say to you go away you banana hater ASELKSAEKL

BITCH, you doo bee getting on my nerve 24/7/365 🧍‍♀️ you were an unexpected but a very welcomed addition to my life. I can’t believe we really went 1 fuckin’ year without speaking to each other and then suddenly our friendship blew up because over a stupid BANANA. Now you gotta deal with me and my stupid, random, crude ass messages daily. I cannot. Clown to clown communication. But thank you so much bitch for being there for me and telling all of these funny ass stories and life experiences.

I know I don’t say it a lot because when we talk it’s literally just dogs barking at each other but I want to make it clear now: I love your humor and vibe so much. You never fail to make me laugh anytime I talk to you and I appreciate it so much. I can’t tell you how many times I felt better after talking to you. Even though sometimes your fucking jab hits hard and I end up actually inSULTED BY IT. But thank you for becoming my friend and I look forward to all of our stupid moments together. Looking forward to shitting in your sink when I finally fly to your home <3

@wolfamongthem, Anna, the Grinch. Please don’t hurt me for that title. I'm just saying if someone needs a live casting, it’ll be u. Anyways, did you know that I was so fucking intimidated by you for a long ass time, even before we became mutuals aseljas LMAO. I always see your gifs around on explore and they’re so gorgeous and then I look at your text posts and it’s u roasting people like there’s no tomorrow- 🧍‍♀️ bitch I was SCARED OF U KSKS. Now that I’ve talked to you a few times, you’re really funny like where do you find those reaction memes????? Like bro you and your shitposts is my morning cup of coffee.

Anyways, in 2021 I expect a full-fledge review of all AAA games from you-- no more shit talking in the tags let it all out BITCH. Thank you for being such a great mutual! I look forward to see what weird shit you will send me the next time we talk lmao

@zenien, Selm, the I’m-gay-for-Lady-Maria-or-anything-that-moves-in-BB-Bitch™. ok bitch if I’m being honest I wrote yours last so my brain is FRIED. so everything i say from here is raw from the HEARt cause that’s all I got left. But anyhow, we savin’ the best for last! honestly, i didn’t expect you to barge into my life like that. i really didn’t. i was just gonna keep admiring with my 7 feet (2.1336 meters) pole. I’m glad you made the first move because look where we are wtf 🧍‍♀️ friends??? I wouldn’t believe you if you told me that in 2014 when I first followed you lmao.

You’re such a kind soul. I know you may disagree but I’m determined to convince you. I can’t tell you how much I want to thank you for taking the time to talk to me during my rough bits. It’s like sitting on a wooden bench in a park during sunset and you sit next to me, just enjoying the vast sky. You radiate such peaceful energy. It’s very calming. Or you know, 2 seconds later i’m suddenly suplexed by your 40 tons of insults like what--

Thank you for everything, so far. Truly. It’s been so fun listening to you talk about your Bloodborne journey and see your reactions live. It’s been so fun to see you post your graphics and it continues to blow me away. It’s been so fun hearing about your life and the stories of your adulthood. Every words that we have exchanged, I hold dearly to my heart--more than you ever know. Love u bitch.

#for mutuals #mutuals don't ask about your titles i was being quirky LMAO #this took so long so i hope it works properly sksks #it hasn't been proofread so enjoy the mess

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kangaracha · 4 years

Note

prompt: zed, addison and fire?

It’s the bonfire that gets him.

It’s a great, blazing thing, built in the middle of some guy from school’s backyard, a pile of old garbage and tree cuttings set alight to warm them against the cold night air. He can feel the heat of it even from where he sits on the back steps of the house, prickling at his skin, the smoke burning at his lungs as he’s forced to breathe it in and out. The light of it hurts his eyes, burning silhouettes of the humans that stand around it into his retinas so that even when he tries to look away, it’s all that he can see.

He doesn’t understand the appeal of it, their need to gather around a fire and hold their hands out to it. The urge to throw their empty cans into its flaming depths and watch them curl and pop and melt into the wood as it burns. He’d ignore it and go back inside with the other zombies, if he could, but Addison is out here by the fire, and he came here to be with her, and he’s not-

He’s not scared of fire.

He’s not.

(He’s lying.)

Eliza says it’s something buried deep inside their genetics or something, a side effect of the mutation that makes them zombies in the first place. Some intrinsic, deep-born fear of flames, an instinct that tells them that fire will kill them without the need for first-hand experience.

Zed thinks it might be more about how humans used to use it to fend them off, before the wall, before they became what they are today. Or maybe it’s because every now and then, someone comes into Zombietown and sets a building on fire just to watch them scream and run.

Either way, Eliza had laughed at him when he’d told her he was going to a bonfire. “Do you even know what a bonfire is?” she’d asked mockingly.

“It has ‘fire’ in its name, Eliza,” he’d replied peevishly, and glanced apologetically at Bonzo as he flinched. “I know what it is.”

“Then why are you going?” she’s said, like he was stupid.

“I’m not scared of fire,” he’d claimed, bold as the day is long (and he’s not scared, he’s just…cautious). “There’s other zombies going too. It’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere near a bonfire.”

“You’re not invited anyway,” and then they’d descended into an argument about whether or not an invite to this part was an indication of social status, and if Zed was invited because of football or because of Addison.

Addison.

He has his eyes on her, over on the other side of the yard, warming her hands by the roaring blaze. She’s found a group of other cheerleaders to talk to and they’ve been embroiled in a very serious discussion for fifteen or so minutes now (or has it been longer? He hasn’t been keeping track, too busy trying to look casual while he hides back here on the steps).

She’s beautiful like that, silhouetted between the half-light of the fire and the soft glow that spills from the verandah of the house. It reminds him of how she’d looked in the light garden, the night of their first Zombie Mash, the first time he’d come so close to kissing her…

He’d kiss her now, but she’s over there by that pile of blazing logs, and he’s over here, glued to a set of stairs.

“Why don’t you join the party, bro?” someone asks, and then three members of the football team barrel past him down the stairs like a pack of wild animals. It’s Brock that’s speaking to him, a big lump of a guy that Zed’s kind of come to like, even if he had been anti-zombie when they’d first started playing together. Brock’s cool now – he even appears at Mash every now and then, though he can’t bust a move or hold a note to save his life.

“Some people givin’ you some trouble, Z?” he asks, and jerks a thumb at the small crowd gathered around the bonfire. “Wanna come rough ‘em up?”

“No,” Zed says before Brock can start any fights. “I’m just waiting for someone.”

“Waitin’ for who?” Brock asks, and then one of the other boys, Cody, elbows him in the ribs, so hard they both almost fall over.

“Bro,” Cody says between giggles, his words slurred and his eyes ever so slightly unfocused. A can of something sloshes in his other hand – Zed wonders just how many he’s had before that one. “Bro. Bro.”

“What?” Brock snaps, shoving the drunk so hard that he staggers back a couple steps.

“He’s waiting for his girlfriend,” Cody says, pointing at Addison, and then he laughs so hard he drops his drink, the contents bubbling away into the lawn. Brock grabs him in a headlock and they go down together in a pile of drunken limbs, wrestling on the wet grass.

“Want some?” asks Skip, their other companion, and offers Zed a mostly-empty beer bottle.

“I think you need it more than me,” Zed replies with a wry grin, and watches as Skip shrugs and chugs it down.

“Can zombies even drink?” Cody asks from the ground, his head trapped under Brock’s arm.

“Who cares,” says the other boy as he gets up, giving Cody one last shove as he does so. “Why’s the zombie hangin’ out over here when his girlfriend’s over there?”

Their eyes all turn towards Zed. He shifts uncomfortably.

“No reason,” he says, and tries to play it off as cool. “It’s just a bit…hot. Felt like sitting over here.”

The two drunks glance at each other uncertainly, like they’re not sure whether to believe him or not. Brock rolls his eyes and grabs Zed by the shoulder, hauling him up off the steps and onto his feet.

“What are you doing?” Zed squawks as his feet hit the soft turf of the lawn.

“Savin’ your relationship,” Brock replies with a meaty grin and shoves him towards the fire.

Terror does not stab at his gut as he stumbles the two steps forward to keep his balance.

(He’s still lying.)

He looks back at the football players, his clueless, drunk, human friends, and realises with a sinking feeling that they are blocking any chance of escape, all staring at him expectantly. He turns back to the fire and his fate.

Relax, he tells himself, and then he walks, one step at a time, across the yard ad over to the edge of the fire, just three steps from the flickering flames. It’s not even the bravest thing you’ve ever done, he tells himself firmly (lie), and stops his hands from shaking by snaking one around Addison’s waist instead, pulling her close.

“Zed!” she exclaims happily at his sudden appearance, and turns to press a kiss to his cheek. “Where have you been?”

“Here and there,” he says dismissively, like his random disappearance wasn’t totally planned. “You know me, life of the party. Can’t let you keep all the fun to yourself.”

“You’re not going to turn Nicky’s party into a Zombie Mash, are you?” she asks, but she’s laughing, like she wouldn’t really mind if he did such a thing.

“I make no promises,” he replies and gives her a grin, trying to pretend that he’s relaxed, that he’s not fixed entirely on the crackling of the flames to his right, the heat that rolls off the blaze and beats at his cold skin, dry and angry and filled with the same smell of smoke that invades every corner of Zombietown all too often.

Addison frowns at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling in concern. “What’s wrong, Zed?” she asks.

“Hm?” he replies, like he wasn’t listening, and then, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

She shakes her head. “You’re being weird,” she says and he shrugs and turns away, feigning confusion. The fire catches at his eyes, bright and angry, drawing him in. Beside him, Addison’s breath catches in her throat.

“Oh,” she says, and pulls him back a few steps, waving her friends away as they turn to see where she is going. “Is it the fire? I’m sorry, Zed, I didn’t even think-”

“No,” he interrupts, before she can get too far into her apology for something she didn’t do. “I’m not afraid of fire, Ads. That’s just a stupid...zombie...thing.” He feels like a liar, his mouth bitter, his tongue bitten. He ignores the sensation.

She’s silent for several seconds, looking at him with just the faintest hint of a frown on her face. He doesn’t like the expression she wears, the way her eyes dig into his skin, trying to see past the front he’s definitely not putting on. He wants to kiss her, or to change the topic, to distract her somehow before she can become properly convinced that he is afraid of a little fire, but he doesn’t. She will only call him out on it, and then he will be in even bigger trouble.

He thinks she might say something about the zombies comment, might press the issue further until he has to argue with her or walk away, but she is not Eliza and she knows him well enough not to push the topic. “Do you want to go inside?” she asks instead, motioning towards the house, where the other zombies hide.

“No,” he insists. “Stay out here with your friends. We always hang out in Zombietown, I want to spend time with your people too.”

She eyes him skeptically. “Are you sure? Zed, I really don’t mind going inside, it’s kind of hot out here anyway-”

“No, come on, I want to go talk about cheer or whatever.” He loops his arm through hers and pulls her back towards the fire, swallowing down the lump that forms in his throat at the sight of the flames, focusing instead on Addison beside him, her hand in his hand, her lips pressed quickly against his cheek as they walk, filled with all the things he won’t let her say; comfort, understanding, acceptance of the things she cannot change.

He stands by the fire and he holds her hand and he pretends it doesn’t bother him when a log cracks and splits down the middle and sparks shower into the air above them, because he’s not afraid.

He’s not.

(He’s lying.)

#disney zombies #zombies 2 #zed necrodopolus #zed zombies #addison zombies #addison wells #my writing #zombies #zombies prompts #zombies fic #prompt fill #1700 words babey #this took me way longer to finish than it should have

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

57 with indruck would be the perfect christmas gift! Love your work!

#57: You called me at two in the moring insisting that I come over and help you bake christmas cookies for the party tomorrow because you forgot to make them earlier and need help now.

It’s 1:58 a.m, December 22nd, and Duck Newton should really be in bed.

Instead, he’s aimlessly puttering about his kitchen.

He can’t sleep. He’s tried. But something in his mind won’t settle, and each time he tries to grasp at it, to see what’s troubling him, the thought skitters away into some dark corner of his brain.

Any distraction would be welcome at this point; hell, even if the now-closed gate were to open up with an abomination, that would be an improvement. At least then he’d know what he was worried about.

Ringring

Thank god. Maybe Leo can’t sleep either, maybe Minerva’s decided he needs to do some kind of sudden hero training, maybe Barclay needs help at the lodge.

“Go for Duck.”

“Hello, Duck.” The lilt drifting across the telephone lines is unmistakable.

“Hey, Indrid, everything-”

“-okay? Yes. Or, well, mostly yes. My call is not a matter of life or death, if that’s what you mean. I was calling to ask if you’d be able to help me with something.”

“What kind of somethin?” Duck is already looking for his shoes, partially as a means of distraction from the filthy picture his mind just supplied of how he could help Indrid in the middle of the night.

“I am baking cookies for the party tomor-, ah, well, I suppose it’s technically today now, and I require assistance.”

“I mean, sure, but why call me? Sounds more like Barclay’s kinda thing.”

“True, but the futures showed me that you were going to spend the remainder of your night in a restless funk, and I wanted to prevent that. Also they show Barclay, ah, preoccupied with Agent Stern this evening. Goodness, who knew they-”

“Whoah, god, please do not make me think about my friends doin it. I’ll be over in a few.”

Indrid’s smile is audible, “wonderful. I shall see you soon.”

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

Indrid spends the next fifteen minutes cleaning.

Shoving things into cabinets and under furniture counts as cleaning, right?

Perhaps he should have done this sooner. But there’d only been a 50% chance Duck agreed to join him. In half his visions, the human politely declined, and spent his night simmering in discontent.

A crunch of tires is in new fallen snow means he doesn’t even need to look at the futures to see Duck arrive. He has a minute before he reaches the door.

He glances down at the eggnog stain on his pajama pants, and dashes into the bedroom to change them. Gets to the door two seconds before Duck knocks.

The ranger lowers his hand, smiling gently, “Hey.”

“Hello. Apologies in advance for how warm it is in here.”

“Eh, visited you enough lately that I’m kinda gettin used to it.”

“Oh, good. That’s very good.”

(Why are there futures of them kissing? Where is that coming from?)

Duck steps into the trailer, shutting the door as Indrid heads into the kitchen.

“So, what are we makin’?”

“Sugar cookies. I promised Barclay I would bring some to the potluck tomorrow. I have all the necessary supplies here.”

“Great, what recipe are we usin?”

Indrid looks at the pile of ingredients on the counter. His future vision told him which ones to buy, but isn’t of much use when it comes to predicting a recipe.

“You don’t have a recipe, do you?” Duck says with amused patience.

“No, I do not.”

“Don’t suppose you got any cookbooks layin around.” Duck opens the nearest cabinet, which contains solely Capri Suns.

“I may. I collected various books that seemed useful during my travels. They’re in that cabinet towards the front.”

Duck kneels down, begins searching through the cabinet and pulling out books.

“‘Drid, how the hell are you fittin all these in here? The physics don’t make sense.”

“Mmm? Oh, most of the cabinets and the closet are enchanted to allow for more storage space.” He waves his hand distractedly, trying to parse out the warmth swirling in his chest at the use of the nickname.

“Sewin’ guide, anatomy textbook, uhhhh maybe, nope, that’s a repair manual for the Bago. Didn’t know you worked on it yourself.” Duck leans further into the cabinet and Indrid spends a moment appreciating how his legs and ass look in his jeans before responding.

(Probability of kissing jumps ten percent).

“I can do basic repairs. Though, at this point, my home is held together mainly by magic. And duck tape. A truly excellent human creation.”

“Not fillin me with confidence about the safety of drivin in this there, ‘Drid.” Duck teases. There’s rustling from the cabinet, though no further commentary.

The kissing futures jump even more. What on earth is happening? Yes, he wants to kiss his friend. But as far as he can discern, Duck does not want that, and it takes two for that fantasy to work.

“Aha, got it.” Duck crawls backwards, proudly produces a red and white checkered cookbook, “Bettin this has what we need.”

“Wonderful!” Indrid claps his hands together as Duck flips to a page with a recipe for sugar cookies and hands it to him.

“Oh dear, I do not have a mixer, this is going to take…” He blushes at an oncoming future.

“You also got a friend with chosen strength. Ain’t just good for savin the word.” Duck grins and flexes his arm.

Indrid chirrs appreciatively, then catches himself, “Ahem, in that case, please beat this butter and sugar in that bowl while I measure out our dry ingredients.”

They set to work, side by side. The small kitchen means they bump into each other often, but neither seems to mind. In fact, Duck seems to be bumping into him more than usual.

“How come you waited until now to make these?” Duck cracks an egg into the bowl.

“I didn’t mean to. But as you know, I can be easily distracted by watching futures or trying to stop them.”

“Coulda just bought some at the store in the mornin. Not that I mind helpin you.”

“I...you will think me silly if I tell you.”

“That what the futures show?”

“Half of them, yes.”

“Try me?”

“It has been a long time since I had any kind of connection to my fellow Sylphs. Let alone friendships with both Sylphs and humans. I want to demonstrate that I value those connections, make things to contribute to our time together. It is nice to belong, in a way, and I often fear losing it.”

“‘Drid, you know you don’t gotta earn your place with us. We all care about you. I care about you.” He takes Indrid’s hand from where it’s paused, mid gesture, and squeezes it once.

“Thank you.” Indrid sighs, decides to take the risk of his next words, “I’ve seen the end of things, so many things, so many times. I am used to it, in many ways. But there are times when I struggle to believe that the good things in my life will not be cut short in the same way.”

“I mean, everythin’ ends cause of time and mortality and shit like that.But that don’t mean good things are gonna disappear as soon as you find ‘em.”

Indrid smiles.

(Seventy percent of the timelines show them kissing.)

“Hey, goofus, I see you floatin off into the futures. Stay in the present with me, or I’m eatin all the cookies myself.”

Indrid grins, “ You wouldn’t dare.”

Duck grabs a nearby spoon and scoops out a bite of dough and chews it with an exaggerated “mmmmmm.”

Indrid pouts and makes grabby hands, as humans call them.

“Nope, this is all mine now.”

“Noooo, the raw dough is the best part.” Indrid grabs for the bowl, but in spite of being shorter than him Duck manages to keep it out of reach.

“I’m savin you from yourself, you’re gonna get salmonella.”

“I am not, my Sylph biology prevents such a thing. You, on the other hand, can very much get that illness. So,” he lunges for the bowl playfully. Duck sidesteps him and he stumbles with an undignified chirp. Duck snickers and Indrid giggles

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you some if you tell me one thing.” Duck sets the bowl back on the counter, blocking it with his body, “How come you have a bunch of drawins of me saved in your cabinet?”

“I, ah,” oh goodness, he should have seen this coming, “I save certain drawings if I like them.”

“‘Drid, those were almost all of me.”

“Because I like them. I like you. Seeing futures of you made me feel happy while I was away from Kepler.”

Ducks eyebrows slowly raise.

There’s no point in looking at the futures. Indrid has to do this in the present, has to face the reactions in real time, because that us always what being near Duck does to him; draws him back to earth, to the moment, over and over again because all he wants to focus on is him.

“I am very fond of you, Duck. It has been quite awhile since I had anything resembling a crush on someone, and my feelings for you have grown considerably in that direction. But I understand completely if it is not reciprocated.”

“That’s uh, that’s, fuck, uh-”

Indrid droops; if Duck is trying to lie, it must be to spare his feelings.

“Um, I don’t, uh, oh fuck it.”

Warm hands are suddenly on his upper arms as Duck pulls him into a kiss. Sugar and butter on his lips, strands of dark hair tangling in his fingers as he clasps Ducks head. It’s tentative, a tad awkward because of his glasses, and he never wants it to end. Whimpers when it does, and Duck simply smiles, bumps their noses together.

“I was tryin to come up with some line about how I was surprised. But I ain’t, not really, especially not after findin those drawins. I been fallin for you for awhile, and was gettin the sense you might be doin’ the same. Just didn’t wanna push my luck and scare you off, sugar.”

Indrid grins.

“What?” Duck arches an eyebrow.

“I simply enjoy the nicknames you give me. Most of my aliases are attached to my sometimes unnerving appearance. It is nice to be called something new and sweet.”

Duck kisses him, first on the cheek and then snowflake-light on the lips, “Good to know. Now, c’mon, we can uh, cuddle, more once these are done and I need that real bad. So let’s finish these cookies, sugar.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #indruck discord #winter aus

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starmansymphony · 4 years

Text

i wanna draw the funney gargoyles but bc i haven’t been taking screenshots n savin em and i don’t wanna get spoiled going onto the wiki (which i’m guessing does exist), i’m just sitting here like >:(

#larimar says #delete later maybe?#i've got Ideas!!#both for like actual things and shitposts #but i especially don't wanna get spoiled for things the subjects of the actual things bc they don't seem like they're done in the story yet #coldstone seems like he'll be back at some point and thailog DEFINETELY will be; he's only been in one ep so far #plus i have a lot of love in my heart for the rookery bros and i gotta get it out in art form at SOME point!!

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sweetguillermo · 5 years

Text

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot, don’t fucking tempt me. Daddypool over here could use a couple ‘a headshots.”

Even with the mask on, Peter knew Wade well enough to know that the other man had no intention of being cruel, his hard exterior little more than a front - a means of protection from those who stared at him with disdain.

To them, the jaded crowd of pedestrians, the ex-mercenary was inhuman; an otherworldly beast, present only to plague their collective existences. They didn’t see behind the bloodied mask, but when they could, they would muster nothing more than disgust, aiming it at the man like a barbed spear.

The irony was nothing short of painful- they saw him as a bloodthirsty murderer, but the only weapons drawing blood were those of which they so proudly held.

Equipped in full suit, katanas and all, Wade could only stand and watch as they circled him. They were no angry mob, brandishing not much more than cellphones and cameras, but they scowled at him with contempt and nothing less. They only came so close, retaining a couple of meters of distance, because at the end of the day, he’d end any of them if they stepped to close.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t affected by their resentment.

Peter stood to Wade’s left, the silver webbing along his suit glinting in the sunlight. The gunman him and Wade had just downed was curled at their feet, mouth bound by a gag and arms webbed to the pavement. He’d attempted to open fire three blocks down from Times Square, and if it hadn’t been for Wade spotting the poorly-concealed semi-automatic on his person, they wouldn't have been able to stop him in time.

And that, unfortunately, was what the general public just couldn’t see- the side of Wade Wilson that was genuinely trying to change, to make a name for himself that didn’t just involve senseless contract killing. It was Deadpool that had potentially saved hundreds of lives, who had been on the ground and incapacitating the offender before Spiderman had even realized what was happening.

The truth of the matter was that these days, Deadpool did nearly as much good as Peter. He was out on patrols daily, covering for Peter when he had to put in extra hours at the Bugle, but regardless, his previous reputation stained every life he saved and innocent he protected like wine, insidiously seeping into each one of his actions and marring his perceived intentions.

Years prior, the media had a field day when they’d initially broke the story of the Spiderman-Deadpool partnership, taking the opportunity to make absurd claims about Spiderman’s ‘switch to the dark side’, and how they had been right all along about the hero’s intentions. There hadn’t been a paper in the greater New York area that wasn’t plastered with obscene rumours about the two of them. And yet, not one paper commented on Deadpool’s informal resignation from mercenary work, or the unofficial Avengers membership status granted by Stark himself.

Instead, the papers chose to continuously frame him as a killer- unchanging, unrelenting, and insane. They chose to ignore the dozens of lives he saved daily, chose to accuse Spiderman of endangering the city by inviting the mercenary to stay. The truth of the matter was that Wade had been working towards change, towards using his powers in a more socially responsible manner even though it meant going against his every instinct.

Peter could see the effort, could see how fucking hard the other man was trying in every way possible to be better. Wade tried, and though there were slip ups, and the occasional accidental murder, he was usually successful in refraining from maiming or permanently injuring enemies, instead opting to disarm them for the police to deal with.

And yet, regardless of his effort, of his blatant character change, the public still stared at him like some sort of freak, some sort of villain. Even standing next to their beloved Spiderman and the mass-murderer he’d just taken down, their loaded gazes firing loathing, disgust, hatred.

“C’mon, ‘Pool,” Peter muttered, motioning towards the sidewalk, “Police are gonna be here soon, they’ll take care of this guy. Lets head out for food or something, huh?”

It was a struggle to keep his voice gentle, the unadulterated judgement emanating from the crowd of pedestrians provoking the anger expanding against his ribs. He once looked at Wade like that- when they had first met, when he hadn’t yet gotten to know the tender person beneath the leather costume. Part of him resented himself for ever thinking such a thing about Wade, and the other part just wanted to slap some sense into the deluded onlookers, make them see what he saw in the older man.

Wade nodded, eyes trained defensively on their audience, before following Peter out of the commotion. The two of them were watched by wary eyes as they paced the streets, but there were no comments, no brave soul willing to approach.

No one wanted to bother Spiderman if Deadpool was around. It was both a blessing and a curse.

They stopped at some tiny pizza joint sandwiched between a dry cleaner’s and a convenience store, grabbing a box to go and bailing as soon as possible, knowing that shopkeepers didn’t exactly enjoy having mercenaries (ex or not) as customers.

The two men only travelled a couple of paces further before scaling an apartment complex, because unless they were unfairly high up, eating in peace as Deadpool and Spiderman wouldn’t go without garnering some sort of negative attention.

Peter reached the top of the building first, tossing the pizza box onto an air conditioning unit as he waited for Wade, who threw his body over the roofs edge with little reserve. He pulled himself to his feet, adjusted one of his swords, and sauntered over to where Peter had settled. Wade left a few meters of space between them, and the distance was beyond uncomfortable for Peter, who was more than accustomed to Wade’s penchant for being as close as he could possibly get away with.

Muscles still rigid from before, the ex-merc hardly reacted as Peter yanked his mask off, pitching it to the side and grabbing a slice of pizza. It was unusual, Wade not reacting in some capacity when the mask finally came off. At the very least, there should’ve been a whistle, a wink- something. The dead silence didn't sit well, caused his stomach to stir.

He took a bite, dark eyes watching as Wade continued to stand still. “Hey man, take a slice. There’s no way you’re not starving after all that.”

Only four storeys up, the wind wasn’t substantially stronger than it had been when they were level. But Wade’s continued wordless demeanour cut right through him, sent chills up his spine.

When the other man finally opened his mouth, his voice was hard, vulnerable in a way Peter hadn’t ever heard before.

“What’s the point, Pete?”

The sun was beginning to set, casting a pale orange hue over the maroon planes of Wade’s suit. He stood with his back straight, chest puffed, a sign of external pride and confidence even though Peter knew that he was feeling neither of those things internally. For Wade, it was all about appearance, what others thought of him- more specifically, what others hated about him. He fed off of the negativity, took every bad thing said about him and convinced himself it was true. He truly, truly believed he was a monster- an irredeemable creature that was better off with a bullet through the skull.

It broke Peter’s heart.

“If I’m killin’ the people they pay me to kill, they call me a maniac. If I’m savin’ their sorry asses, they call me disgusting. If I’m on my own, they think I'm about to shoot ‘em up or something. And if I’m with you, they’re convinced that I’ve brainwashed you or hurt you or turned ya evil and-” Wade, who’d been frozen in space up until that moment, began to pace back and forth, creating a warped oval of footsteps as words tumbled out of his mouth, “And there’s no point, is there? Me doin’ this? I could be fucking hot dudes in Australia, eating like a fucking king in Dubai- what am I doing here? If no one gives a shit, what the fuck am I doing here?”

Peter watched as he ripped a dagger from its hip-sheath, glaring at it only briefly before whipping it forwards into the ground. It stood up, perfectly adjacent to the roof it stuck out of.

Having dropped his slice of pizza at the beginning of Wade’s rant, Peter waited until the man marinated in his temper before approaching, movements slow and steady and careful. The last thing he wanted was to make this harder than it needed to be.

“You’re here with me, yeah? Figured out a long time ago that I couldn’t take New York on my own- actually have a shot now, with you as my partner.”

Wade’s shoulders hunched forwards, spine curving as he shifted his weight. Peter interpreted the motion as permission to take another few steps forwards, reaching a hand out to delicately brush at the other man’s wrist.

When Wade didn’t throw himself off the building at the contact (which had, in fact, happened in the past, and wasn’t something Peter ever needed a repeat of), Peter moved even closer. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Wade’s chest, could smell the thick aroma of leather that wafted from his suit.

“You’re here for me, being a better person for me and like- hey, maybe I’m not the best person out there but like, everything you’re doing? Just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean I don’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it more than I’d like to admit.” Carefully, so as to not startle the man, Peter leaned forwards, pressing his forehead against Wade’s collarbone. His enhanced hearing picked up a nearly imperceptible increase in heart-rate, but otherwise Wade didn’t react.

“Doesn’t matter if they don’t see it, Wade,” Peter insisted, eyes fluttering shut as he close the little distance between their bodies in a barely-there hug, “Because I see it, all of it, and I love it. I love how you’re trying, how much good you’ve been doing. It’s unfair that they can’t see it and I’m sorry, they fucking suck, I get it. But I see it, and I’m sorry if that’s not enough.”

And, as though he’d done it thousands of times before, Wade pulled Peter tightly against his chest, masked face buried into the fluff of his hair.

“Course you’re enough, baby boy,” Wade rumbled, grip against the younger man’s bones tight- comforting in a way that couldn’t be put into words.

The sun had disappeared behind a high-rise by the time the two of them parted, their hands still entwined after their bodies separated. They ate together in silence, the contact feeling as natural as anything.

The headlines and the disgust and the judgement would always be brutal, Peter knew, but watching as Wade tugged his own mask off to smile over at Peter, he had a feeling they’d be just fine.

#spiderpool #spideypool #fanfic #spideypool fanfic #spiderpool fanfic #fic #spiderman #deadpool #Spiderman fanfic #spiderman fic #marvel #mcu #deadpool fic #deadpool fanfic #first time writing these two!#wade is hard to characterize whoops #drabble

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kittyxuchiha11 · 5 years

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Savin’ you is all i’m good at - Chapter 10

Summary: “So she isn’t puttin’ up a fight and I’m like, hold on a minute what’s going on here? I’ve got my gun to her head and she- she tells me to bloody kill her! Like this is scary assassin Widowmaker who doesn’t feel emotions, and she’s just like oh yeah Lena it’s no big deal just pull the trigger an’ that”

Widowmaker is acting strangely and Tracer wants to find out why.

Widowtracily (Widow x Tracer x Emily)

READ ON AO3

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If you had to pick a word to describe the last few days, you’d have to pick torturous. No one looks at you like they used to, no one even smiles at you. You knew things would be bad when Overwatch found out what you’d been doing, but you didn’t think it could be quite this bad. No one trusts you, they all look at you with this uneasy stare and quickly scuttle away when you catch them looking. You didn’t think it would ever be this bad, but obviously you were wrong.

Angela is becoming the only person who seems to act like a normal person around you, and you hate it. You didn’t mean to hurt them, you didn’t mean to hurt anyone, you were just trying to help someone in need, and look where its gotten you. You didn’t think you were someone who really needed the approval of people until now.

“Something on your mind, leibling?”

Her voice snaps you back to the harsh reality of it all, and all you can do is sigh and shrug in response. She furrows her brow slightly, hesitating for a moment before stepping away from her desk.

“Lena, I know things have been…difficult around here recently, but it will pass”

“I just…I don’t know ‘bout that Angie. Should ‘ave seen the look Winston gave me the other day, think he actually hates me now”

She opens her mouth to reply but seems to think better of it. Instead, she gently touches your shoulder, the gesture saying something she never could with words. That she trusts you still, that she would have done what you did if she could. From what you’ve talked about, it seems she’s done some things just as bad as you have, although back then it was all under the guise of actually helping people. So the only thing she had to answer to was her own conscience. You two really aren’t so different, she’s just a lot better at hiding her demons than you’ll ever be.

“have you…have you heard from Emily?” Angela asks softly, removing her hand from your shoulder but not moving away from you just yet.

Your friends hating you is one thing, but the way things stand with Em…that’s definitely something that’s been on your mind a lot. “Yeah, she’s home safe. All she’s said to me…don’t think she really wants to talk to me either”

“She’ll be fine Lena. You’ll be home with her soon, and all this will be behind you both”

“I don’t know if it will be, luv…I just…think I fucked up real bad this time, I can’t fix things with everyone”

Angela sighs, making her way back to her desk. For a moment you think she’s about to tell you to get out and let her do her work. That is until you notice she’s staring at a particular piece of paper in her hand. She stares at it hard, her eyes looking lost like she’s stuck in a memory. She shakes her head, her eyes meeting yours as you slowly approach her.

For the first time you seem to notice the small photo album on her desk. It’s opened to about half way through, and inside a picture of Angela and Amelia, arms wrapped around each other tight as they grin at the camera. The picture underneath it is similar as well, except Angela isn’t looking at the camera, she’s looking at Amelie with a look you know all too well. It’s…strange to see them together like this, both looking so happy. You guessed there was something between them, what exactly that was you don’t know, but you can tell by the pictures that maybe their relationship wasn’t quite as platonic as everyone once thought.

You expected her to try hide the pictures, but Angela just smiles this sad empty smile, letting go of the paper in her hand as she reaches towards the album. She stops herself, drawing her hand back as the smile drops from her face.

“My heart has been broken many times leibling, by many people, some from within Overwatch. When we tell you not to get involved with her, Jack and I…we’re talking from experience. She was special to me once too…which is why my judgement is so clouded on this. When she left, everyone mourned for the loss of Gerard…but no one seemed to understand we’d lost her too. I was the only one who seemed to mourn for my Amé”

Your eyes widen slightly as you hear the nickname. Widow said someone from her past called her Amé, but she couldn’t possibly be talking about Angela…unless they definitely did mean a lot more to each other than anyone else could have ever known.

“Angie…” You say softly, not sure what the hell you’re supposed to say to her. What are you exactly supposed to say when your best friend hits you with something like that? The implications behind her words are endless. That she loved Amelie, that she possibly loved someone else from within the organisation. And you don’t even want to begin to wonder what she means about Jack Morrison.

“I’ve been ordered to keep you under close eye, to try stop you from leaving, until I can completely clear you, and get your word you won’t chase after Widowmaker anymore…but I can’t do that” she bites her lip, looking conflicted on what exactly to do before she looks back to you.

“Save her Lena. Lay low and sort things with Emily. But if Amelie comes to you again, please try and save her”

When you arrive back at your flat, it’s quiet. Unbearably quiet in fact, something which isn’t usual for your flat at all. There’s normally always some noise, if that’s the gradual build-up of the kettle, of the TV on quietly. Normally the first thing you hear is Emily humming or singing happily to herself in the kitchen. But today there is no noise, nothing at all. If you hadn’t noticed Emily’s shoes in the hallway by the door, you would have assumed she wasn’t in.

You slowly make your way to the living room, feeling like a stranger in your own home. Everything feels so alien to you, like you’ve not been here for years, when in reality you’ve been away no longer than a week or so.

The living room is empty, no Emily in sight, which is strange because you sure didn’t hear her in the kitchen. You walk over to the couch, a stab of pain in your heart as you look at the blanket folded up on the arm of it. On top of it lies a single piece of clothing, which you know is the shirt Emily had given to Widow to wear. You reach out to touch it, but stop. You don’t want to ruin it, ruin the perfect image of her still being here, of everything being okay. But you have to, have to shatter that because really, that’s reality now. She tried to kill you, was still under Talon’s control after everything. You should hate her, shouldn’t want anything to do with her, but of course you still do. You can’t stop what your heart really wants, even if it isn’t the right thing.

You leave the blanket alone, biting your lip as you turn away from the couch and start to head towards the bedroom. You take a deep breath, willing the tightness in your throat to go away as you take slow steady steps. You listen carefully, trying to hear if Emily is even home. You’re about to give up and go make yourself a cup of tea while you wait for her, when you hear a noise from the bedroom.

“…Emily?” you call out cautiously, suddenly feeling nervous, and frankly a bit scared that it might not be her. You’re on high alert after all that happened. After all, Talon could have sent more people to finish the job…or to do worse.

You gently push the bedroom door open, peering around it and almost sighing in relief with you see Emily’s red hair sprawled out on the bed. She’s just lying there staring at the ceiling, seeming to be completely lost in a day dream, which really you find a bit strange because it’s your thing to daydream, not hers. Her eyes are red and puffy, it’s obvious you’ve just walked in on her having a cry to herself. "Lena!"

you expected her to be in a mood with you still, for her to at least sulk a bit, which is why when she practically throws herself into your arms, you're surprised to say the least. You stiffen for a moment, your arms stuck like you're frozen. Then reality comes back to you, and you sigh softly, your arms coming around her gently at first, until you tighten your grip.

"Hey Em, missed you" you murmur in her hair. She looks up at you. Her eyes looking so big an vulnerable from her position. You can see the hurt and relief in her eyes, and then when she smiles, they shift again to something you can’t read. You find yourself smiling at her too, too caught up in the moment of having her in your arms once again. It makes you forget about everything that's been bothering you, her smile wiping all your worries away. But it doesn't last, of course it doesn't. After all, she is the one thing that is causing at least half of your worries. You thought she was upset with you, that she didn't want to talk to you after your argument. But here she is, in your arms smiling at you as if nothing is wrong. its surreal, incredible honestly that everything seems to be okay once again.

She senses your shift in mood and her smile falters, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she backs off slightly. "Lena" she starts softly, moving her hair out of her face as she meets your eyes once again "I'm sorry...I don't know what to say really apart from-"

"-Luv, it's alright. I should be the one apologisin' if anything"

She shakes her head roughly, her eyes now on her hands in her lap. You can’t read her face at all, her hair obscuring your view. After a moment she sighs softly "No I...I know you Lena, know what you're like. Your impulsive, and wild, and sometimes even a bit stupid but- but that's why I love you" She pauses, taking a moment to collect her thoughts before she looks up at you "I know what this means to you, what she means to you...and I know you're not going to just give up on her because we've all told you to"

"Em..."

"No, I need to say it, to admit it to myself. It’s hard for me to even say this but- but I get it Lena, I know you want- no need to save her, and just because I'm scared of the fact she's unpredictable and could hurt you again won't stop you, I know that"

The silence stretches out between you, both of you finally seeming to understand the others side. Emily has always been on your side no matter what, which is why it hurt so much when you argued about this. With your feelings so up in the air, and all these new revelations with Angie, you feel lost, confused. You have no idea what anything means anymore, but you know for sure Emily is, and always will be, the one constant in your life.

You find yourself reaching for Emily's hand unconsciously, a small smile pulling at her lips when her fingers brush against yours. "Em, I know I'm not the easiest to deal with. Hell, If I was you I'd have chucked me long ago, but...we're in this together, aren't we luv?"

You watch her as she seems to think on your statement, seeming to actually take what you're saying into account. You can't guarantee she will be with you forever, or even with you for this mission. but you hope she still wants to be. After all, the great Tracer always needs some help, and if that help is her girlfriend, then she's bound to be unstoppable, or so you'd like to think.

"I know how important this is, I mean I understand exactly why we- why you need to save her. But we can't do this alone. I'm with you, if you can work with Overwatch to help her. I don't want to find you half dead again because Talon still has its grip on her"

You stop for a moment, your thoughts all over the place as you try to process what she's said. A few weeks ago you would have never agreed to that, had to have given her the talk on why Overwatch can't know your secret mission...but now things are different, and maybe they actually could work. With Angela now on your side, even if working just with her, you could possibly make this work. Even if it means betraying Winston's trust, and disobeying orders from the higher ups. Surely they would be able to see past it if you did manage to take Talon's most valuable weapon away from them.

You're so distracted trying to fabricate a plan in your head, that you forget to even reply. It’s not until Emily gives your hand a little squeeze and brings you back to reality, that you realize you've kept her waiting. You smile brightly at her, finally feeling like your old happy self once again. She seems a bit conflicted but slowly mirrors your big bright smile.

"Yeah luv, I think we can make this work" __________________________________________________________________________________ For the next week, you spend as much time as you can trying to come up with a plan that even comes close to being functional. You don't have much success since you're being checked up on constantly by Winston and higher command, and you don't want to potentially get Angela in trouble while you have all this attention on you. You may be a bit ditzy, but you're not so stupid to start openly discussing things you promised you wouldn't with Angela when they're monitoring all your communications with every team member.

To distract yourself from your frustrating lack of progress, you focus on Emily instead. Mostly because you need to keep your head distracted from the worry that there’s been radio silence from Talon for several weeks now. And because honestly, Emily deserves some attention to make it up to her for how weird you've been recently. So, you take her out on dates, to the park, to the pictures, anywhere she fancies. You even let her drag you along to some boring journalism exhibition, just because you know it means a lot to her.

By your tenth day home, you're used to your routine of spending the day out with Emily. Or picking her up after work and spending the evening together. Your check ins with Winston or Angela happen every second day, which is why when you and Emily are just getting in after having a wonder around the shops, you aren't surprised at all to feel your phone buzzing in your pocket.

Emily notices you pulling the phone out your pocket and immediately understands, giving you the bags in her hands and saying she'll join you with a cuppa in five minutes. You smile, turning to give her a quick kiss before making your way to the living room and plopping yourself down on the couch as you answer the call.

"Alright luv?"

The line is quiet for a moment, and you wonder if the signal is playing up again, or maybe that you've somehow muted it. You take the phone away from your ear and look at the screen, pressing the speaker icon just in case it’s your phone acting up. There's still silence, and for some reason that really unnerves you.

"Uh, big guy, Angie...hello?"

"Hola, Tracer"

You freeze, your heart feeling as if it’s almost stopped when you hear an all too familiar voice now coming through the device. "...Sombra?"

"Long time no see, Speedy"

"Would ask how ya got this number but- I know how you work, you can hack anything"

"Got that right. Your texts to Emily are adorable to read still"

You groan loudly "Will you stop doing that!"

"Okay okay, geez you're no fun"

You're about to reply when you see Emily coming into the room carrying two mugs. She looks at you cautiously, obviously having heard Sombra's voice and wanting to make sure you're both safe. When she see's you sitting on the couch with your phone on speaker on the table, she relaxes slightly and makes her way over.

"Sombra" she greets softly, handing you a mug while she places her own on the table and glances at the phone.

"Ah, the other girlfriend, was wondering where you'd gone"

"We're not-" you start, seeing how Emily tenses at even mentioning Widow.

"-Yeah, right, I know speedy. You don't even want to know what's been going on around here with that"

You look over to Emily, expecting her to be rolling her eyes, or doing something in response to Sombra's comment, but she's just staring at the phone, looking lost in thought.

"You're calling about her, aren't you?" she says suddenly, apparently catching both you and Sombra off guard.

"You are the smart one. Yeah, wish this could be a nice catch up call but...Our little spider's in danger"

There's a small tense silence, your eyes widening slightly when you realize what she means. Emily beats you too it, suddenly seeming a lot more interested.

"...Sombra, what's going on?"

"After she- well you know, they flipped her switch, she was picked up by that edgy bastard Reaper. All he did was go on about how he was right, and he knew there was something she was hiding. Blueberry she...she didn't say much, just stayed quiet. I didn't even get a chance to talk to her until they finished interrogating her"

"Wait, so they know ‘bout her-"

"-Not quite, they know her kill switch still works, but they don't know who she was with when they flipped it. I covered it up, made some bullshit news article about her harming a couple of civilians"

"...You covered for us?" you ask uncertainly, not sure what to think of her words. You didn't think you'd ever trust her, always thought her agenda was way too ambiguous. But now...now you don't really know what to make of all this.

"Of course I did speedy, She's the closest thing I've had to a friend in a long time. And Talon...they deserve all this shit after what they've done. I mean, they're even trying to catch me at it!"

"But we're- I mean I'm in overwatch and I'm, you know, supposed to be like your enemy 'nd that?"

"You think I want Talon to complete their goals? To go around kidnapping people and using them? No way. They give me strong connections, and the means to do what I want. The only reason I ever shoot at you on the battlefield is to get them off my back"

"Thanks, Sombra, we appreciate it" Emily says softly, a strange look on her face. She sounds so kind and gentle, but her expression is something confusing, something you don't think you've seen before.

"Look...I know things must be fucking awful after what she did, but she needs your help. I can only cover for her while she's here...but…”

"Wait, what do you mean?" you ask, the sudden panic gripping your chest once again.

"She hasn't checked in with control for 24 hours, not like her when she's on a mission, never mind when she's in this mindset. At last contact she was on a mission in your neck of the woods. She could just be taking a page out of Reaper's book and being edgy and mysterious, but that isn't quite her style"

"You think something's happened to her?" Emily asks, leaning towards the phone slightly as her brow furrows.

"It could have. I just know if she doesn't check in soon, Talon are going to storm the area, and that could end badly for you"

"Got it, I'll find her" You say, already standing up and going to grab your gear.

"Speedy, wait" she hesitates, you can only imagine how this must be for her. She's stuck there, trying her best to help her friend but never actual able to go out and help like she wants. "Let me know if you find her...I can try write in another mission for her to give you some time"

"Aw, I didn't know you cared so much Sombra"

"Or I could reveal your search history to the public and bring Overwatch down for a second time"

Although you know she can’t see it, you stick your finger up at the phone playfully before ending the call. Emily remains quiet beside you, seemingly oblivious to your banter with Sombra. She's staring at her hands again, nervously fidgeting with the bracelet you bought her on your shopping trip today. You obviously know something is wrong, but you don't really want to bring attention to it. You know it's about Widow, and as bad as it sounds, you don't have the time or energy to argue with her about it.

It's never been easy admitting to yourself that you could have feelings for anyone other than Emily, and even harder admitting that to her. When you first got together you nearly had a third member in your relationship, but it quickly fizzled out, and it was just you two again. Back then there wasn't enough time to get attached, but with Widow now, you know you're both more than just attached.

"Em...I have to-"

"-Lena, I know. Go find her and let me- I mean, let Sombra know she's safe" she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. You know she doesn't want you going out, doesn't want you putting yourself in danger, but you both know you care about widow too much, and want to help Sombra out. Even if not for Sombra, she is right that Talon sniffing around means trouble for everyone, especially with your recent circumstances.

There's this tiny voice at the back of your head telling you finding her is a mistake, that finding her only connects you to Talon further, and maybe Talon agents hanging around won't be so bad. And most importantly, Emily won't be looking at you with such a sad look if you don't go. But you have to, you can't just walk away from this. After all, you do still owe Sombra for saving you from Reaper.

You want to say something more to Emily, but she's already picked up her phone and is looking at something. You know you can’t say anything to help, anything that will make things better. So you go, giving her one last look before you head out the door.

You half-heartedly scout around the area, not really paying much attention to your surroundings as you have other things on your mind. You don't know when it happened, but before you realize, you're sitting on a rooftop just looking out over the neighbourhood. You need a moment of stillness, something to ground you back to reality and distract you from all your thoughts. To say your head is a mess is a huge understatement.

So you sit there, you sit for who knows how long just watching the lights of the city and the odd couple who wonder along. You sit and you think over everything that's happened. Everything with Widow, with Emily, even with Angela. You just can’t get your head around it all, get your head around how Widow so easily turned on you, how Angela who was so against you even talking to Widow now wants you to save her. And most importantly, how Emily gave up on Widow and now doesn't know how to act about all of this. You can close your eyes and pretend everything is fine. Sit on this rooftop forever and not go back to this complicated situation you've found yourself in. But you know deep down you have to, that although it's tough, you want all of this. That makes you feel even worse, knowing you want something you potentially can never have.

You sigh softly, your eyes flickering down to the alley below as you think about how you really should be getting home. That is, until you notice something glinting in the light. You stay still, watching it carefully trying to determine what it is. If you didn't know better, you'd say it looks like... "No way" you half whisper to yourself, getting up from your spot and looking for the safest way down off of the roof.

A few tumbles and choice swear words later, you're on the ground. You find yourself faltering as you get closer, not wanting to get your hopes up for what could just be a cats collar reflecting in the moonlight. You take a quick breath and round the corner, making your way into the dimly let alleyway. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you hear a sound not far away from you. It's quiet, the whole world seeming to freeze around you as you hear a small groan.

"H-Hello?" you ask loudly, your voice echoing harshly off the walls around you. At first you don't hear or see anything. You're about to lecture yourself for getting scared over nothing when you hear it.

"Cherie..."

You're stuck in place, eyes quickly darting around the dark to try find the source of the noise. You know her voice, would know it from anywhere. You're about to speak again when you see a movement on the ground to your left. You quickly rush over, not caring if it's a trap. You can't just ignore her, even if she did try to kill you mere weeks ago. When you reach her, you get your phone out for some light, trying hard to hold back a gasp when you see her blood covered limbs. She's panting lightly, her arm wrapped around her middle where you can see even more blood seeping from beneath her fingers. You want to scream, to wipe the image from your brain forever, but you can't. You can't stop staring at her, staring at her pain contorted face as she tries to meet your eyes.

"Bloody hell" you say lamely, wanting to slap yourself for sounding so stupid. She tries to smile, grimacing again at the pain. She looks like she wants to say something, but doesn't. You take that as your cue to crouch down next to her and try figure out the extent of her injuries. She has cuts on her arms, and a large possible stab wound on her side that she's currently trying to clutch at. It takes some convincing from you to get her to even move her hand to show you the wound. You look at her, searching her face for some answer of what the hell happened.

"I was ambushed" she says softly, not able to meet your eyes "This is not like me, I know. They cornered me, cut me down...I've been waiting for death as it’s the most merciless way out of this"

"You can't say that luv!" you find yourself almost shouting at her. She seems taken aback, surprised at your strong reaction. You think she might try to tease you about it, but she doesn't, just looks away.

"I am better off dead Lena, you have to know that. Talon cannot use me if my heart does not beat"

"Hey shut up! you are not goin' to die, not on my watch!"

"Cherie-"

"-No, I'm going to save you, I have to I-" you cut yourself off with a sob, surprising both you and Widow. Her expression softens then, she has this look in her eye you've seen before. You roughly rub your tears away, hating to look so childish in front of her by crying out of frustration. You don't expect to feel her hand over yours, your eyes widening as they meet hers. She has a soft smile on her face, and you're not sure if its genuine affection or if she's out of it from the blood loss.

"Such a foolish girl, crying over your enemy's death"

You want to tell her to shut up, to stop making fun of you, but you can't. You know she's teasing you, and for some reason it fills you with such a warm loved feeling. That warmth is quickly replaced by the sinking of your heart as you notice her losing consciousness. It's like your mind suddenly snaps back to reality and you're suddenly aware that you're watching her slowly die in a dark alleyway. Without much thought, you try to get her up, leaning most her weight on you and make a dash for home, blinking there as fast as your accelerator lets you.

You're not thinking straight, just trying to get her to safety as soon as possible. Emily's yelp of surprise when you shoulder charge the door and nearly rip it off its hinges makes you stop and look around. You're standing in your hallway, Emily looking almost terrified as she just stares at you.

"Em! Thank god you're still awake. She needs-"

"-What is she doing here?"

Her voice is low, her eyes not meeting yours as she just continues to stare at the pretty much dead weight leaning against your side. You don't know what is going on with her, and honestly you don't care. You need her help, you need her to call Angie, or do something to help. You don't expect to feel hot anger beginning to bubble in your stomach as you look at her, but it does. Your mind is only occupied with how to save Widow's life, and With Emily acting as she is, it makes you irrationally angry.

"I found her like this. We need someone to do something!"

She's just quiet, just staring at you. You can't read her at all, and that just infuriates you more.

"Emily! will you bloody do something!"

"No, I- I can't Lena"

You don't think, you can't. Your thoughts are running way to fast to even think about what's coming out your mouth. You have to help her, you just have to. "What do you mean you can't? she's dying Em, we need to help her!"

"I can't. She- she hurt you, what if she hurts you again. I...I can't just-"

"-For fucks sake Em!" you shout, watching her flinch slightly at the loudness. You look away from her, eyes desperately scanning the room as you try to figure out what you should do. Emily's looking down when your eyes land on her again, she looks conflicted, definitely having some sort of inner turmoil.

You push past her, practically dragging Widow behind you now as she seems to be close to complete unconsciousness now. You make it to the bathroom before trying to place her down as gently as you can. She's way too tall and heavy for you to do it gracefully, and you cringe a bit when she hits the ground just a little bit harder than necessary. You get to work trying to find anything to stop the bleeding and help. You know very little first aid but you know enough from having Angela lecturing you while dressing your many wounds you've gotten over the years.

You see Emily shuffling to watch you from the doorway out of the corner of your eye as you throw something across the room while searching for your first aid kit.

"...It's in the cupboard, under the sink" Emily says softly, crossing her arms across her chest as she still can't meet your gaze.

"If you would help, maybe I would find it quicker" you snap at her, not really caring if you hurt her now. You're too preoccupied, too set on saving someone elses life. This probably makes you an asshole, and you know you'll need to apologise for this later. But just now, you just do not care.

After some more digging you eventually find the kit, quickly going over what the hell you need to do. Emily see's the panic in your eyes, and after some hesitation, she places her hand over yours. Your eye snap to hers, and she gives you a sad smile taking it out of your hands "You're too clumsy to patch her up Len, Just help me clean her up a bit"

You watch her move quickly, checking Widow's wounds and doing everything she can to help the poor assassin. When she's done, she stands back with a sigh, looking incredibly conflicted before she averts her gaze to the floor. She really isn't acting like herself. Your happy and optimistic Emily has turned into this strange shell of herself. You don't know what to think of it, what it even means.

Eventually, she speaks again, not meeting your eyes "She can't stay Lena, it isn't safe"

"Huh?"

"She- look I know you want to help her- and we have. But she can't stay, we can't fully trust her yet"

The irrational anger you're becoming so accustomed to rears its ugly head as you look at her. "Em, look at her! We can't just leave her out in the street to die!"

"If we tell Sombra we've found her maybe Talon will come pick her up, or-"

"-Or what? what if they don't and she dies ‘cause you were too scared to trust her?"

You see something in her eyes, you don't know what it is, but its a look you don't understand. "How am I supposed to trust her when she tried to kill you Lena? I just can't, I'm not ready yet"

"Oh really, is it that hard for you" You practically sneer at her "All you have to do is back me up here"

"It isn't just about backing you up its-"

"-It's what Em? Just because you're scared of what she's done, for her mistakes in the past"

"Lena, please, don't do this now. You nearly died and I- I, you just can't understand-"

"-No, you can't understand!" You shout, not caring how startled she looks at your outburst "You can't even begin to understand how this feels to see her like this-"

"-Of course I understand, I love her too!"

Your reply dies on your tongue as your eyes widen. She's glaring at you hard, her breath slightly ragged from how worked up about this she is. You’ve imagined this moment many times, finally talking about how you both feel, but you never imagined it would happen like this.

"Em..."

She sighs softly, her gaze flickering to Widow before it lands back on you "I didn't think I'd ever be in the situation where this could happen. where I could love both of you. And then for that love and trust to be ripped away. I don't know if I can do it Lena, it hurts too much to even think about. My heart says that I need to help her, to keep her safe, but my head says something completely different"

"Em, Luv...I'm so sorry" you almost whisper, suddenly not being able to meet her eyes. Of course she's acting this way for the exact same reason as to why you're so defensive about this. You love Widow, and she does too. You want to save her, and so does Emily, but she's more scared than you about it all. She's not as brave as she's been pretending to be all this time, of course she isn't.

Emily sighs once again, seeming to gather all her courage before coming closer to Widow again and looking over her injuries "She should be okay, the wound on her side here" she says, her fingers hovering just above her skin, almost seeming too scared to touch "It isn't as bad as it looked at first"

"She wanted to die, luv" you say softly, sitting cross legged on the floor next to where Emily is crouched. "Said she'd be better off dead" You want to reach out and touch Widow, check her skin is still warm under your touch, but you know there's no need. You shouldn't need excuses to touch her, yet you still feel you do.

Emily doesn't say anything for a moment, her eyes still just looking over Widow's features. "She probably blames herself, thinks it’s her fault for what happened to you"

"Do ya think it’s her fault?" you ask softly, knowing exactly what rests on her answer.

She simply shakes her head, her gaze finally landing back on you. The look she's giving you is almost empty, this sadness just shining in her eyes.

"It would be unfair to blame her fully. They've messed with her head, she can't stop them..." she pauses, seeming to think on it for a moment "I'm just scared Lena. I don't want them to hurt her...but she also hurt you and now- god, I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or think"

You watch almost speechless as a tear makes its way silently down her cheek. You want to reach out, to hold her and tell her everything will be okay. But really you don't know if it will ever be okay again. Like yeah, you saved Widow's life tonight, but can you really keep her safe. Even with your combined efforts with Sombra, you don't know if she'll ever be safe while Talon still stands, and you have no idea how the hell you're going to take them down.

"Hey, Em, luv...We can do it, keep her safe 'nd that" you say gently, trying to reassure yourself with your own words, never mind her. She just looks at you, not looking convinced at all.

"And what if that's not enough? We can’t make this work if she's still under their control. We can't just-"

You wrap your arms around her in a tight hug, cutting her off as her eyes widen slightly, obviously not expecting the contact. It takes a moment before you feel her relax, her arms coming to rest around you gently. You don't know what to say to make this all better, to reassure her this can all work out, especially when you feel so unsure about it all yourself.

"We'll be okay Em...all of us will"

#kittyxuchiha11 #widowtracily #lemon tea #overwatch #lemon tea maker

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darksiders-scenarios · 7 years

Note

What would the horsemen do if they came across a tiny human? Like doll sized?

~I will submit War and Fury soon :) For Death, I tried to imagine him in a similar scenario with Hunter.

Update: Part 2 (link)

Strife

It was getting closer. Quickening his pace and throwing caution into the wind, Strife’s armoured boots splashed into puddles of muddy slush as he approached the creature. This was no Scarab, he reasoned. Nor was it a demon of any kind he’s ever encountered.

The tiny creature shot its head up, whipping its body around till it was facing the looming, approaching monster. Strife frowned behind his mask. It was almost as big as the span of his hand.

The tiny being yelped as it stumbled back to escape the giant but the horseman had already planted a large boot behind it, crushing something that instantly released a repugnant, sickening odour that vapourised throughout the area. The tremor caused the creature to collapse against his boot, coughing and gagging through the hazy green mist that enveloped them.

A gruff voice resounded from above before the creature felt itself being hoisted into the air by the back of its shirt, away from the mist and stench.

Strife brought the being close to his face and examined it. Its eyes were screwed shut and its mouth was gaped open, as though screaming silently. He gave it a gentle shake. “Helloooo?” he called out, causing the creature to cry out and snapping its eyes open.

“Oh my God,” it whimpered, eyes roving up and down the colossal horseman, its voice barely above the whisper of a normal sized being.

“Never seen the likes of ya before,” Strife boomed, not quite so mindful of their contrasting voice level. “What are you?”

“I-I’m human,” it replied, voice quavering.

“Eh?” the rider drew it closer to eye level. “How come? I thought humans were bigger than that.”

The human squirmed under his intense scrutiny. “Well yeah,” they started but then trailed off, as though unable to continue. Strife cocked his head slightly. “What happened?”

“I-I can’t remember,” they relented, soft voice laced with defeat and sadness.

“Hmph,” Strife grunted, “Must be one of them Shadowcaster’s tricks,” he mused aloud, taking note of how the human glanced at his visor like mask. “Memory loss is one of the side effects.”

The colour drained from their face. “What?” they squeaked. “The hell is a Shadowcaster? What’s gonna happen to me? What did I-?”

Strife interrupted their outburst by pinching the shirt fabric tighter, causing the cloth to contract against their shoulders and chest. “Easy now, tiny,” he muttered, “These spells don’t normally last. I don’t know for how long, but what I do know is that it puts your life at major risk,” he gestured a free hand to the crushed Scarab at his feet. “If I didn’t get here in time, you’d av’ been paste.”

Gaze following his finger to the dead demon, the human felt their heart drop to their stomach. ‘Just a few more seconds and that would’ve been it’, the realisation was as alarming as it was horrifying.

“A-Are you…?” they stammered hesitantly, drawing Strife’s attention back to them.

“Am I…?”

“Are you going to k-kill me?” they finished lamely, drawing further into themself, avoiding his face.

There was a moment of pause when Strife simply stared at them, expression indiscernible through the mask. “What’s yer name?” he asked at length.

The unexpectedness of the question made them jump. “Y/N,” they mumbled, wincing at how low and weak their voice sounded even to them.

“OK, Y/N,” the horseman carried on, “If I wanted to let ya die, I wouldn’t ave’ wasted my time savin’ ya.”

When he didn’t elaborate further, Y/N gawped at the horseman. ‘But why?’ They wanted to ask but was too fearful that they may be pushing their luck. Better be safe and go along with the strange demon for now, they thought. It can’t be any worse than surviving on their own for so long.

Their analysis was interrupted when they felt themself being lowered. Instinctively, they reached up to grip the metal fingers, clenching so tight that blood started to ooze out from the punctured skin from the sharp prongs. “Don’t drop me!” they pleaded, panic and fear evident in their high-pitched tone.

The rider felt his heart clench slightly at their pitiful, vulnerable form, literally clinging onto dear life. And yet they still felt that they could trust him enough to not hurt them.

“Oi,” he grunted. When they opened their eyes, they saw his free hand hovering under their feet. Heart pounding wildly against their chest, Y/N sucked in a breath before letting go. Landing with a soft thud in the cold palm, Y/N covered their mouth with a trembling hand, squeezing tightly at the thought that perhaps, they may yet live to see tomorrow after all.

Strife nodded as he cupped his hands, lightly cradling them, his long fingers forming a barrier for them to lean their body against.

“What are you gonna do to me?” they finally asked the important question.

“At least yer smart enough to know that you’d be stickin’ with me for a while,” he grinned, eyes roaming over the doll size human huddled against his fingers. “You’re a sorta lucky human, being alive after all that.” ‘That’ of course meaning the premature Apocalypse. “An’ I intend to keep it tha’ way.”

Y/N frowned. That made no sense. If this demon assisted in slaughtering everyone and more or less caused them into that state, then why the hell did he want to keep them alive? The more plausible reasoning would either be for a keepsake, trinket, or a plaything.

As much as they wanted to raise the question, they decided it was more prudent to try a different tactic. “What’s your name?”

“Name’s Strife,” the giant exclaimed, his voice suddenly exuding buoyancy, his stance straightening and he jabbed a finger to his chest.

“Strange name for a demon,” they remarked, doing their best to keep heir voice as innocent and casual as possible.

Strife almost choked at the assumption but then snorted. “Really kid, a demon? Devilishly handsome is one thing but comparing me to those second kingdom runts?” he shook his head. “Kid, if I were a demon then no way we’d be havin’ this conversation.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, as if mulling over the new knowledge, given by their deepened frown lines, Strife proceeded, “Listen ere’,” he raised his hands closer to his face. “I’m the good guy here.”

There was something different about this gigantic being, Y/N thought. The way he spoke, the way he seemed to be trying to convince them that they weren’t going to hurt them. It almost seemed human. He was threatening in sight yes, but in speech, he was rather approachable.

“Plus,” he continued, curling a finger the width of an armchair in your direction. “You gotta eat somethin’ to keep yer strength up,” straightening his finger, he lightly poked your stomach. “You look like shit. A tiny, near non-existent shit. But shit nonetheless.”

You were about to retort that he wasn’t quite the looker himself but as if on cue and to your absolute mortification, your stomach decided to let out an undignified rumble.

“Eh? What was that?” Strife tilted his head sideways and downwards at you, the closeness shrouding you in complete shadow. “Didn’t quite catch that over them butterflies you humans like to keep in there.”

Huffing in exasperation and failing to conceal a chortle, you swiped at his finger, to which he politely withdrew. “Yeah and they’re starving too!” you joked.

Strife tutted. “Better feed em’ ‘fore they claw their way out and have my head then.”

You shook your head and allowed yourself this rare moment of joy. The sound of your laughter was foreign to your ears and you reveled in it. At the same time, the distant trill sounds of scarabs fast approaching the area cruelly sucked away your newfound happiness. You scrambled back as far as you could, curling onto yourself as your back pressed into the bottom creases of his fingers.

Strife felt the low reverberation emitted from your quivering form through his palm and felt his anger and concern surge at once. “Hey hey, it’s OK, it’s OK,” he tried to reassure. “You’re safe with me.”

You peeked over your arm. Although you couldn’t see his face, the tone of his voice was enough to make your panic dissipate from your body. You slowly sat up and did your best to smile and nod reassuringly at the horseman.

“I like ya already!” Strife beamed, ruffling your hair with an enormous finger which you didn’t swat away this time.

Death

“What is it now, bird?” Death grouched, hands shooting to the hilts of the twin Scythes at his waist, battle stance ready as he scanned the area for hidden demons. When he found none, he threw an exasperated glare at the crow as it flew into the shattered window of a demolished apartment. Unless it was hungry again or its age was catching up to it, Death was already mentally fatigued from the constant wild goose chases the wretched bird was constantly giving him.

He was about to turn around to make his leave when the sudden shrill cawing from Dust, coupled with another series of piercing screams rebounded against the decrepit walls of the old architecture.

Alarm coursing through him, Death dashed forwards, leaping over the gate and wall-running along the length of the wall until he was grasping the ledge of the window, legs dangling with a hand on the hilt of Harvester. At this proximity, the clamour of screams rattled painfully against his eardrums, heightening the gnawing concern that he desperately tried to suppress. Hauling himself through the window and landing onto tiled flooring, he quickly scoured the expanse of the room.

Dust was struggling against a storage container in one corner, cawing and flapping its wings frantically against the plastic barrier, as though trying to claw its way through. There was a moving critter within. ‘Ah’, Death suppressed a tired sigh, ‘So it was hungry’.

However, upon closer inspection, the rider noted that the critter seemed to be larger than average. It wasn’t of demon nature either. And the trilling screams didn’t stop. In fact, it almost sounded human, albeit a very faint and piercing one.

He stepped forwards, and his suspicion was confirmed. This was no critter, he concluded, eyeing the living doll armed with a fork trying to shoo away his crow, a look of absolute terror on its face.

This was no doll either.

“Enough!” he bellowed. Immediately, Dust fluttered away, back onto his master’s shoulder but Death lightly brushed it away with the back of his hand. With an offended squawk, the undead bird perched on the window sill, throwing his master the equivalent of a glare.

With slow, long strides, the rider brushed past the scattered debris and splintered furniture until he was in front of the container. The lid was half ripped open, but it was not big enough to allow the size of Dust to fit through. The back of the container was cleaved open but it was fitted against the wall. Death grasped the edge of the box, intending to bring it forth to allow the being to come out but he was halted.

“Stay back!” came the high-pitched squeak from within. Although the human was small, it was almost the height of Dust. And they were pressed against the far corner, chest heaving from exertion and their face was twisted in apparent pain.

“You’ve neither the look of a demon nor an angel,” Death stated through the opening of the lid. “But a human, albeit a rather diminutive one.”

The human jumped. It just spoke to them! What the hell was that thing?

Death crouched in front of the plastic box, providing them with the complete display of his appearance. Tall, imposing, powerful. And that ivory skull mask… it was almost like staring in the face of death itself.

“I-If you want to kill me, then just get it over and done with!” they blurted suddenly, hysteria and panic evident in their trembling voice and quaking body. “J-Just stop toying with me like that.”

Death dipped his head. If normal sized humans were fearful of his appearance, there was no doubt this was even more daunting for someone as minuscule as them. But he had to speak to them.

“Peace, child,” he murmured, doing his best to lower his tone. “No harm will befall onto you.”

The human flinched. Was this a trick? But his amber eyes were soft, almost… gentle.

They slowly leaned forward but froze in place, peering anxiously at the window.

“He won’t harm you,” the horseman assured them. “Not in my presence.”

Hesitating briefly, they finally pushed themself to stand, head barely touching the lid.

Death remained motionless. “What is your name, human?”

The human gulped and fixated their attention on his neck. “Y/N.”

“I understand this must be overwhelming for you, Y/N,” he sympathised. “But it is important that I should ask, how did you end up in this state?”

“You mean my size?” Y/N clenched a fist. “I can’t remember to be fair. There was a fight I think. A demon and another thing with wings, I guess it was an angel. I just happened to be there. There was a flash of white light, and the next thing I know,” Y/N gestured weakly to themself. “Well, this happened.”

“I see. And you sought shelter here,” he concluded.

“That’s my home.”

Silence greeted the pair, safe for the howling of the wind and clinking of broken shards that rattled against each other. For the first time since he stepped inside, Death let his gaze hover over the broken furniture; from the singular bed that was strewn in one corner to the dusty picture frame on the floor. On it, was the unmistakable face of Y/N with two taller humans behind them. He could only assume that they were their parents.

“Y/N,” he tried. “How did you survive for this long?”

Y/N snorted. “I wouldn’t say long, nor would I say survive for that matter. I pretty much just stayed here, hidden. I guess I’m too small and insignificant, even to angels and demons,” they added with a dry laugh. “It’s not gonna last though.”

“And even less so the longer you remain here,” Death added.

They shrugged and turned their face to the side.

‘Given up’, Death remarked darkly. Learned helplessness, resigning to a fate they’ve conjured for themself. ‘Lies.’

“This can be remedied,” he declared calmly.

Y/N whipped their head up, holding the steady gaze of the ethereal being as he slowly pushed his index and forefinger through the space in the lid. They stared at the enormous digits; they were almost as large and wide as a bed.

This was a creature that can no doubt become an unstoppable force of nature at will, possessing power beyond imagination. And yet here he was, waiting for a puny human to grant them permission to reach out to them.

“Why?” they whispered, tears generating at the corner of their eyes.

“Because I am neither angel nor demon,” Death responded, the sides of his jaw widening slightly, signifying a smile.

Y/N ducked their head and clenched their fists. The decision was theirs. Either stay low and wait till death take them away, or literally allow death to take them away. The latter seemed the better option as they looked up and realised that Death was waiting patiently for them.

They obliged by pressing their much smaller hands against his fingers. Death’s fingers curled underneath them and they were gently lifted out of their self-made prison.

As they watched the container shrinking in perspective the higher up they went, for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt something foreign bloom from the deepest pit of their guts.

Hope.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #death #fury #war #strife #tiny au #reader

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