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mikrowrites · 1 year

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fate goes pt. 6

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n is reunited with someone she never thought she’d see again; as shait and khonshu fight against ammit, y/n, marc, and steven fight to stop harrow

warnings: angst, fighting, violence, fluff, language, dark themes, death, EPISODE 6 SPOILERS

a/n: the last part! thank you so much for the love for the series! also warning, this deals with someone dying in a hospital, so if that’s a trigger be warned!

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” - fate goes, the ninth hour

Y/n pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, humming a gentle lullaby as she sat next to the bed, her other hand grasping that of the patient.

Her internship at the hospital brought her to the hospice wing, where death surrounded her daily. Yet, she knew in her gut that their times were set and she couldn’t change it; instead she could respect the process and the execution of fate.

Y/n had begun to believe in fate as her studies in medicine continued. Science was factual, but fate was sacred. It was unmoving and constant, and perhaps that was a comfort to her in a way.

She continued her humming, gently rubbing herself the patient’s hand as they slumbered. Unlike many other patients, this one had no family photos, no flowers or gifts or get well balloons. Y/n had noticed this and found herself frustrated by the idea of a patient seeing the end of their days alone. So she had sat for hours with them, awaiting their fate.

“You care so much, don’t you child?”

Y/n gasped, the chair screeching across the linoleum as she bolted upwards. The patient’s eyes were open, glowing a golden light, their lips moving with every word. She backed away slightly, her voice quivering. “Who-who are you?”

The patient cocked their head to the side. “You’re a curious one, Y/n L/n. I’ve been watching you for a while now. You care for people so much, yet you don’t fear death. Curious indeed.”

“What do you want from me?” Y/n asked quietly.

The patient’s head turned to face her, the golden eyes boring into her. “How rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself.”

The gold flickered out, as well as the lights as the room was plunged into darkness. Y/n used her arms to cover herself, as if the room were to implode into her, crushing her. Her breathing was erratic as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Don’t be scared child. Open your eyes.”

Y/n slowly lowered her arms, as a hand rested gently under her chin, guiding her gaze upwards. She met the gaze of a seemingly humanoid person, decked in gold and jewels. Below the waist was a serpents tail, the scales shining with every movement as the being cracked a smile. “I am Shait, the god of fate and fortune.”

She was shell shocked, staring up at the god in their splendor. All she could muster out was a quiet peep of: “Hi.”

The god seemed amused, “You are the most unusual being I have ever met, Y/n.”

“Is um, that in a good way or a bad way?” Y/n questioned.

“A good way, I assure you.” The god responded. “What do you know of the gods of Egypt?”

She shrugged, a little less tense. “Not much, sorry.”

“The gods are very much around and existing in your modern human world, but we do not interfere with earthly events. We instead rely on avatars to carry our will.” Shait explained. “We look for those who exemplify our morals and relish our beliefs. You, Y/n L/n, are who I am looking for. You are kind but resolute. Gentle but passionate. Intelligent and level-headed. You accept the tides of life and how the rivers of fate flow.”

“What does this mean?” Y/n seemed to plead.

Shait faced Y/n. “Y/n L/n, I want you to be my avatar.”

“Me?” She sputtered, her brain clouded with confusion. “I can’t be the best choice.”

“I have seen billions of people on this earth, read their hearts and seen their inner thoughts. You are the best choice. We can allow peace to those who fate commands, and allow for the fortune to bless those who deserve it.” The god spoke.

“Y/n L/n, will you be my harbinger of fate, my disciple of fortune, and guide to those who pass through the river of life? Will you protect fate with you might and see to the people around you justly, to become my avatar?”

She thought for a moment, before meeting the gaze of the god.

“Yes. I will.”

Suddenly she was plunged backwards into darkness, flinging out her arms and crying out as the void swallowed her whole, a warm feeling blossoming in her chest as she felt her retinas burning with a spectacular light. Her body fell backwards down, down, down, her limbs flailing for some kind of control.

Y/n sat up with a start, gripping the side of the hospital bed as she breathed heavily, gathering her bearings. She gasped, holding out her hands as she watched her veins course with golden light.

“Go on. Rest your two fingers upon their forehead.”

She perked up at Shait’s voice in her ears, turning to the patient as Y/n realized the room was filled with the sound of a monitor flatlining. She reached forwards, pressing her index and middle finger onto the patient’s forehead, Y/n’s eyes glowing as suddenly numbers began to appear in her vision, counting like a time clock until they finally clicked into place.

Y/n stepped backwards, the golden glow dimming before disappearing from her eyes and veins. She exhaled, before wetting her lips.

“Time of death, 3:25 AM.”

Y/n soared through the night sky of Cairo, her golden feathers gleaming in the moonlight. Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

Three large gods grappled slowly with each other, Khonshu and Shait vs Ammit. Y/n was almost in awe watching it, if it weren’t for the fact she needed to find Harrow and end this once and for all.

Her peripheral caught a glow of purple, Y/n immediately positioning her wings to dive down into the streets, setting her sight on Harrow. She soared down, positioning her body as she rammed her feet forwards, slamming them into the man as she sent him flying. She cast her eyes down to see a figure on the ground before her feet, suddenly her mind reeling in recognition.

The Moon Knight, Marc Spector, looked up at her in a reverie, the girl fixing him with a smirk as he uttered her name. “Y/n?”

Oh if they weren’t in a war, Shait would be chewing her out on this one.

Harrow stood angrily, directing a blast of purple light from his cane to her. Y/n turned to him, using her golden wings to shield herself, instead sending the blast back into him. sending the man tumbling back. She glared at Harrow before letting the wings retract, lowering her arms.

Y/n barely had time to turn before she was met with Marc, his face revealed, racing to her. “Y/n! Y/n, oh baby.” He pulled her into his arms, the woman grasping for him like a lifeline. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“Marc.” She sputtered out, the man pulling away to hold the sides of her head in his hands, taking in every aspect of her. “How’d you get back?”

Suddenly Steven took control, looking her up and down. “Wow, you look amazing! What are you wearing?”

Y/n smiled softly at the man, before they turned, noticing Harrow rising from the ground and his men ready for a fight. Steven turned to her excitedly. “Hey, I’m really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have.”

“All right, show me what you’ve got.” she nodded to the men.

“Yeah?” Steven asked with a gleeful smile.

“Yeah.” Y/n affirmed.

Both of them dove into action, Steven into a sprint and Y/n soaring forwards, careening into the fight. They both fought against the forces, as their godly counterparts battled above them.

A while into the fight, Y/n found herself pinned against a car, using one of her wings to shield herself from an onslaught of bullets. She squeezed her eyes shut, the violent clinking of metal invading her hearing until--it didn’t. She looked up to see Marc causing a complete massacre. He cut down man after man, until it was him and Harrow, the man continuing to beat the other avatar down until he was bringing the staff down to his head. “No!” Y/n cried out.

Suddenly Marc stopped, his body going rigid and the blade of the staff mere millimeters from Harrow’s forehead. The man looked around, seemingly horrified at the scene around him.

“Marc?” Y/n called, sheathing the wing she was previously using as protection. “What was that?”

“I blacked out.” Marc was confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

They both suddenly looked up to see Ammit best Khonshu in battle, Shait being thrown to the ground. Y/n’s chest clenched in fear when the god did not rise back up. “Get Harrow. I know how to stop Ammit.” She quickly ordered.

Marc nodded and grasped Harrow’s shirt in his fist, Y/n leading them as they both soared into the sky, racing to the pyramid to save their gods and their world.

Once inside, Marc threw Harrow’s body onto a piece of debris, stepping back to Y/n. She sighed, stepping towards them. “The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body. Quick, grab my hand so we can start the spell.”

The man was quick to grasp her hand, relishing for a moment in the familiarity of their touches intertwined, before he followed her lead in reaching their free hands upwards. Y/n’s body jerked slightly as her arm began to glow purple with a sacred energy, Marc the same. And as though they had practiced it every moment of their lives, they began to chant a spell.

They stopped when Harrow’s eyes opened wide, a voice not of his own emitting from his lips. “You can never contain me. I’ll never stop.”

Y/n and Marc gasped in relief and release when the spell ended, binding Harrow and Ammit. The woman heaved for her breath, feeling Marc’s hand gently on her back as he also regained the air in his lungs.

“Finish it. And leave neither of them alive.”

Both looked up to see Khonshu tower over them, Y/n feeling Marc stiffen. She looked over to him as she felt his palm leave the small of her back, the man stepping up to Harrow, hovering above him as he unsheathed a blade. Marc gripped the man’s shirt, reeling his arm back to end the task. “I have to finish this. If not, I’ll never be free.”

Y/n stepped forwards, calling out his name. “Marc!”

Marc turned to look back at her, lowering his arm slightly. She stepped forwards, resting her hands carefully and softly on his limb which tightly grasped his blade. It was then he noticed Shait standing some feet from them, watching idly as their avatar spoke once more. “You have a choice. You are free. This is your chance to determine your fate.”

“The fate is vengeance.” Khonshu chided. “We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound like her.” Marc responded to the god, letting Harrow’s body drop. Y/n lowered her hands away, allowing the man to approach his god. “You want them dead... do it yourself.”

Shait lowered their head in acknowledgment. “Fate goes, Marc Spector.”

Marc nodded to the god, before turning to Khonshu. “Now release us.”

Khonshu turned, meeting the cold stare of Y/n. The god took note of how the avatar of Shait could pose a threat; whether it be her control of fate and fortune or her fierce, protective love of Marc. He looked to Shait, as if to ask the fate of this outcome. The god simply nodded.

He turned to Marc. “As you wish.”

Y/n watched as the control of Khonshu began to wash from Marc, the room building up into a blinding light. Marc caught one last glance of the love of his life before he was thrown into his head once more.

His eyes flicked open, dim sunlight cracking through the windows as he gathered his surroundings. Marc once more laid in his bed, in his flat in London. He sat up groggily, speaking up. “Steven? You there?”

“Mmmhmm.” Steven tiredly responded, the men taking in the room around them as though it would disappear at any moment. “Can’t believe it worked.”

The man was quickly frightened by a sudden movement next to him, turning to his left. His face softened, Marc taking over the body as he stared down next to him, a slight smile on his face. Y/n turned over in the bed towards him, her eyes fluttering open as a yawn escaped her mouth. “You’re both so loud, five more minutes of sleep please?”

Marc chuckled, leaning forwards and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “Sorry. We’ll make you some breakfast then, yeah?”

Y/n smiled blissfully, her eyes closing as she snuggled up into the blankets. “Sounds amazing.”

He smiled back, before standing from the bed and muttering to Steven. “I can’t believe you live in this fricking mess. Y/n’s gonna whoop your a--”

Suddenly his ankle restraint pulled against the frame, knocking the man over and off his feet, slamming into the ground. He looked up briefly, groaning in pain. Quiet giggles could be heard from the bed behind him, and though he was annoyed and his body hurt like hell, he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Looks like Y/n’s fortune-luck-shit didn’t rub off on him.

Harrow was shoved into the limo, letting out a laugh at the sight before him. “Khonshu. You can’t hurt us.”

Khonshu sat across from him, a pressed white suit clothed him as he sat cross-legged, casual before the trapped goddess. However, it was the person next to Khonshu that Ammit noticed with curiousity.

She sat next to the god, seemingly human, yes, must be an avatar. Her eyes glowed a shining gold, her veins running like rivers under her skin and coursing with the same glowing hue. She was expressionless, her glowing empty eyes boring holes into Harrow.

“Yeah. You wanna know something?” Khonshu spoke. “Marc Spector truly believed that after he and I parted ways, we would be done. That I’d be done with her?” He gestured to the girl.

Harrow rolled his eyes, making the talking motion with his hand annoyedly. Yet something unnerved Ammit as the girl narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why would I ever need anybody else when he has no idea how troubled he truly is?” Khonshu remarked. “And don’t worry; Y/n isn’t home right now. She won’t know a thing that happens here.”

“Ah... Shait’s doing.” Harrow noted, the girl, Y/n, raising her fist up to knock on the window, as if giving a cue.

“Meet my... friend,” The girl spoke in a foreign voice. “Jake Lockley.”

The divider in the limo rolled down, revealing Marc Spector. But no, this was not Marc Spector, Ammit saw that clearly. He was different. This man--this was anger, vengeance, and violence incarnate. Jake spoke in a dark tone, the Spanish rolling off his tongue. “Today is your turn to lose.”

Jake raised a gun, giving a sickening smile as Harrow and Ammit begged him to wait, to reason.

Y/n did not flinch as the gun went off, splattering a minimal painting of blood onto her face. She leaned forwards, her fingertips glowing as she rested them upon the mutilated forehead of the body, her eyes seeming to glow even brighter, her veins like a golden fire. “It is done.” She spoke to Khonshu.

The limo drove off, with a fate met.

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mikrowrites · 2 years

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So sorry that the last part of fate goes has been delayed! Had a surgery pop up out of nowhere that I needed (I’m okay!!!!!) that took up my time, so I hope to get it all wrapped up soon!!!!

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mikrowrites · 2 years

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Hi!

I read part one of Fate Goes and I absolutely love it!

But I cannot for the life of me find part 2. I found part 3 and the rest but part 2 is hiding from me (and doing a mighty good job at it😅😅)

Could you please link it for me or tag me in it's comments or even just tell me where to look so I can further obsess over your series🤣.

Thank you!!!!🥰

hey! thanks so much for the love, it’s appreciated so very much!

sorry that pt. 2 was being difficult, here’s the link if you still need it!

have a great day!

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mikrowrites · 2 years

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fate goes pt. 5

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n says goodbye to the love of her life and resolves to stop harrow once and for all; y/n frees khonshu from his banishment

warnings: angst, death, fighting, language, threatening, more tears, dark themes, EPISODE 6 SPOILERS

shait: god/dess of fate and destiny

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” -fate goes, the ninth hour

All was silent for a few moments. The echo of the gunshots had faded, the crashing sound as body met water had also disappeared. It was as though every breathing person within the room had for only a few seconds become stilled.

Then the bodies melted, reality settling in and finality creeping forward. Footsteps on stand, rustling of fabric, clanking of metal, hands grasping out to pull at wet textiles.

Y/n watched as Harrow and his goons roughly pulled Marc’s body from the water surrounding the sarcophagus, searching his body for the ushabti. She clutched the stone relic in her hands, her bottom lip trembling.

She knew that wherever she ran with the ushabti, the scarab would lead them directly to her. There was no where she could go they would not find her.

But at least that meant she wouldn’t give it up without a fight.

“Careful, child.” Shait spoke into her ear. “This cannot go well.”

“I have a plan.” Y/n whispered back, before walking forwards, stepping out of the shadows, the ushabti held in her grasp as she extended it out before her, giving a full view of it to her enemies. “Looking for something?”

The men immediately poised their guns up at her, but Harrow raised his hand in cease, causing the weapons to be lowered. “Interesting... not putting up a fight?”

“Yeah. Marc tried, look where it got him.” Y/n bluntly replied, the words killing her inside.

“And what does your god have to say about this?” He slowly stood.

Y/n shrugged. “You spent too much time with Khonshu. Some avatars don’t always have to do as their gods dictate.”

Harrow smirked, stepping forwards and holding out his hand. Y/n stepped forwards, offering the ushabti up. He grasped it, attempting to take it before Y/n tightened her grip.

They looked into each others eyes, the woman exhaling before letting go.

He stepped away with the ushabti, looking out to his men as Y/n stayed standing where she was. “Who’s ready to heal the world?”

Harrow sent a final smirk her way before leaving with his men. Shait was loud in her mind. “Y/n, what have you done?!”

She was quiet as she walked over to Marc, her face collapsing as she stared at his body. He seemed almost asleep, his eyes gently closed and his body relaxed.

Y/n might’ve thought him passed out if it weren’t for the absence of the rise and fall of his chest and the two bullet holes.

Y/n fell to her knees next to him, letting the sobs rip from her throat as she gently placed her palm on his cheek. After a few moments she let herself lay her head on his chest, her body shaking with every cry. She raised her head up, and as she had done several years past, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered in his ear. She sat up, roughly wiping her tears away with her hands, standing and getting ready to leave the room.

Suddenly, she noticed a glint in the corner of her eye. Y/n walked up to the sarcophagus where she noticed the scarab laying on top. She held the golden relic in her hand, furrowing her eyebrows and tightening her fingers around it.

“You can’t stop him alone. It’s suicide.” Shait spoke.

“Then you’ll find another avatar when I die that can stop him.” Y/n hissed.

“Your life is irreplaceable.” Shait shook their head.

“I find that hard to believe.” Y/n frowned, clenching the scarab tighter in her palm.

Shait manifested in front of the woman. “Y/n L/n, you are unlike any other human being that ever has been and ever will be. So please, I implore you, to tread lightly in this fight.”

Y/n smirked in response.

“Don’t worry; I’ve got luck on my side.”

Y/n had found one of the trucks outside, hotwiring it to speed across the dunes, careening her way towards the pyramid of Giza. She had a strong hunch, and if she was right, the avatars would be summoned to the inside due to the overworld disturbance.

“I’ve spoken with Taweret.” Shait spoke, sitting in the passenger seat.

“Taweret? Like, hippo goddess Taweret?” Y/n asked.

Shait nodded their head in acknowledgement. “We’ve determined the best course of action is to free Khonshu.”

Y/n snapped her head towards the god. “What? Free Khonshu?”

“His power could potentially stand a chance against Ammit.” Shait responded. “You must retrieve his ushabti and break it to release him.”

“Alright.” Y/n nodded. “Sounds simple enough.”

Shait smirked, turning to face their avatar. “I’ve also made some... stylistic choices... for you when the time comes.”

Y/n brought the car to a halt in front of the great pyramid, turning to her god with a raised eyebrow. “No capes, deal?”

The god smirked in return.

Y/n allowed Shait to open a portal into the pyramid, stepping into the gold gilded room. She was surprised to be met with the avatars of Osiris and Hathor.

“Avatar of Shait.” The avatar of Osiris acknowledged. “The disturbance. Even your god felt it too. But what does it mean?”

More avatars began pouring into the room, the avatar of Hathor nodding. “Someone is trying to release Ammit.”

“But why?” Another avatar asked.

“Harrow.” Y/n darkly replied, before suddenly the far wall began to rumble and break apart, revealing the aforementioned man and his followers.

The avatars all stood before the men, Y/n sucking in a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. Shait towered over the woman, shouting loudly to her. “The ushabti! Find it now! Free Khonshu!”

Y/n nodded, quietly slipping away from the crowd of avatars, falling back into a hallway before bursting into a run, barreling down the winding halls of the great pyramid of Giza.

She could hear the distant shouting, the horrid sounds of her fellow avatars being slain. She skidded to a stop as she reached the room holding the stone figures of the banished gods.

Y/n ran her fingers over several, searching for the right one until she caught sight of Khonshu’s ushabti. She cast her eyes over it, before whipping her head back at the sound of rumbling throughout the pyramid followed by a loud thud.

“Ammit has been released!” Shait cried out. “Do it now, Y/n!”

Y/n tightly grasped the ushabti, letting out a yell as with all her strength she threw it to the ground. The dust of the broken stone swirled in spirals, allowing the bird-like god to regain his form.

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world.” Khonshu bluntly growled. “He died fighting, no doubt.”

The air felt punched out of Y/n’s lungs with those words. “Fighting your war.” Y/n growled.

“And it’s far from over.” Shait replied, Khonshu acknowledging their presence.

“Ah, Shait.” He drawled. “Come to see your fortune misread?”

“I don’t read minds, Khonshu.” Shait monotonously frowned. “We need to stop Harrow and Ammit.”

Khonshu turned his attention over to Y/n. “We must rebind Ammit.”

“How?” She asked.

“Only an avatar can do it.” He simply spoke, before he transported out from the room.

Shait turned to their avatar. “I must aide Khonshu against Ammit. Go and find if there are any more living avatars, you need them to bind Ammit.” The god lowered down to their avatar’s level, letting their foreheads rest against each other. “As of this moment, your fate is in your own hands.”

Y/n closed her eyes, opening them as she felt a warm feeling cascade across her body, looking down to see an intricate armored outfit developing across her body.

Her cargo pants and t-shirt were replaced with a golden wrist cuffs, a gold broad necklace and chestplate, with white and gold fabrics and a golden headpiece. As she stretched her arms out, several golden feathers extended out to form a pair of wings.

The woman looked up, her irises glowing a brilliant warm golden glow.

After all, the words she had spoken to Shait earlier were true:

She had luck on her side.

tag list: @1950schick @obnoxioussmiley @rosaren2498 @shirukitsune

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mikrowrites · 2 years

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fate goes pt. 5 will probably come friday-ish due to finals week!!

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mikrowrites · 2 years

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Can i please be tagged in fate goes?

absolutely!!

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mikrowrites · 2 years

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fate goes p.4

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: steven gets a look back on marc and y/n’s relationship; taweret introduces an old friend (takes place during episode 5)

warnings: angst, death, some fluff and slice of life, fighting, language, lots of tears in this one, EPISODE 4 & 5 SPOILERS

shait: god/dess of fate and destiny

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” -fate goes, the ninth hour

Steven ran into another room, slamming the door shut. He was reeling from the horror and trauma he had witnessed, trying to sift through Marc’s memories while trying to desperately balance the scales.

He looked up, however, and was shocked to see he stood in the entrance of a coffee shop, bright and welcoming with soft music echoing through the room. The whirring of machines and clinking of coffee mugs sounded through the shop, Steven cautiously stepping forwards.

“This is where I met her.”

Steven turned to see Marc looking almost wistfully around the coffee shop, the man looking tired and depleted. Steven furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before he turned and saw her.

She was younger, her hair in a braid and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. He focus was on a laptop, surrounded by books and anatomy diagrams. To Steven she seemed almost akin to a stranger.

To Marc, she was ethereal.

Suddenly, she looked up from her laptop as Marc--in the memory that is--spoke to her. “Hey. Is this table free?”

“Sure.” she politely smiled, moving some of her books free for the man to sit.

“Studying?” He asked.

She nodded. “I have an examination for a placement at a local hospital, I want to be perfect.”

“You’re a med student?” Marc asked.

She nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I love it.”

He smiled back at her, taking a sip of his cup. He tapped a pile of flashcards near her. “My name’s Marc. Need a study partner?”

“Y/n.” she grinned ear to ear. “I’d love that.”

Steven felt a soft smile grace his lips, the real Marc stepping next to him. “I don’t know why I sat next to her or said a single thing. I just... I did. She’d laugh at me mispronouncing terms, I’d laugh at her little jokes and cute remarks. She was one of the only good things I’ve ever had... I think she is the only good thing I’ve ever had.”

Steven’s face softened, watching as Marc stepped forwards, going through another door. He followed.

They were now in a familiar living room, Marc’s expression hurtful as he came to a stop in front of the couch. Steven heard sorrowful wailing and choking sobs coming from the room, stepping inside to see the memory clearly, he face falling as he witnessed the sight.

Y/n was hysterical in Marc’s arms, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as she cried forcefully and loudly into his chest. A few words would escape her mouth: “They’re all dead”, “I couldn’t do anything”, “She was only nine”.

Marc was gently rubbing her back with his palm, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances into her ear, his face not visible due to how he laid his head on her shoulder. They were tangled into each other, sitting on the floor of the living room of the couch were Marc held her, letting her release her hurt into him.

“This was the night the little girl died.” Marc spoke to Steven, his eyes fixed on the two lovers holding each other like a lifeline. “The night she chose to quit.”

“And you helped cause the fire, yeah?” Steven cautiously asked.

Marc’s face took on a painful look of remorse. “Yeah. I helped cause the fire.”

Steven recalled when they stepped through the room of people Marc had killed, how there had been dozens of people and families, the way the man had stopped in front of the body of a little girl.

“How could I tell her? She was in so much pain. I wish I had known then why, that she knew when they would die, that she had to hold that on her shoulders.” Marc sighed.

Steven turned to see another open door, walking down the hall to step into it.

It was a bedroom, with the very beginnings of the morning light streaming through the window. What Steven noticed, however, was Marc asleep in the bed, with the sheets on the right side pulled open and empty. The man began to stir, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

His hand reached out to the right side, the man freezing when it was empty. “Y/n?” he lightly grumbled, sitting up. Marc’s eyebrows were knitted in confusion, sitting up and looking around. The apartment was eerily quiet. “Y/n?” he called out.

Steven watched Marc throw the covers off, standing up and walking out of the room for a minute, before suddenly he was running back in, almost frantic. He was panicked, rushing over to the closet and throwing the door open, standing before a half-empty wardrobe.

“No...” Marc gasped, his eyes wide. “No, no, no, shit, no!”

The man threw open every drawer in the room, seeing it void of half of the belongings in it, Marc stepping backwards with his hands on his head, his breathing picking up as a tear ran down his cheek.

“This is when she left...” Steven spoke aloud, realizing the memory he was seeing. “This is after she read your fate.”

Suddenly Marc fell to his knees, letting out an animalistic shout as he heaved in heavy breaths, recollecting himself to dial her number and call. The time the phone rang was painful.

Steven wouldn’t forget the horror on Marc’s face as he heard a song echo from in the nightstand, the man turning and opening it to see her phone ringing and buzzing in the drawer.

“Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

lonely is a man without love

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

lonely is a man without love.”

Marc stood incredulously looking at the phone. The contact that came up was “Marc <3″ with a blurry photo of him laughing while she kissed his cheek, a candid one of her friends took of them at a work party years ago. Marc stood silently until the music of the ringtone stopped playing, and in return a familiar melodic voice echoed from his phone, causing the man to squeeze his eyes shut.

“Hey, this is Y/n! I can’t get to the phone right now, please leave a message and I’ll get back to ya! Bye!”

Steven stepped out of the room to see Marc leaning against the hallway wall, back in the psych ward. He looked up at the sight of Steven, sighing. “Y/n’s dad, I think, taught her that the best way to escape a situation was to leave with no trace. So she did that her whole life. And now, I can’t even blame her.”

After some time and more delving into the memories, suddenly the two were back on the boat, watching as Taweret looked off the side of the boat frantically.

“Taweret, what’s going on?” Steven asked as they saw soul after soul being cast down.

“Fear is spreading in the upper world.” Taweret replied.

“Unbalanced souls are being judged or condemned to the sands before their time.” Suddenly a new voice spoke, both men turning to it. There stood a god with a serpent’s tail, arms crossed and anger radiating from them. “Their fates are being changed against what they should.”

“Boys, meet my old friend Shait.” Taweret gestured, before turning back to the edge of the ship. “Oh, this is bad. This is evil.”

“Shait?” Marc responded, stepping towards the god. “You’re who Y/n serves, aren’t you? Where is she, is she okay?”

Shait was silent, ignoring Marc’s question and continuing. “That man is casting the fates I have decided aside.”

“Harrow.” Marc uttered, his mind rushing with thoughts of Y/n and what the man might’ve done to her, maybe even had killed her. He couldn’t bear that thought.

“You see, this is why we have to go back.” Steven exclaimed.

Taweret frowned. “Even if I could send you back up there, you’d be just returning to a body with a bullet in it. You wouldn’t be able to heal.”

“Can you send word to Y/n?” Steven asked Shait now. “Please. Help us free Khonshu.”

“Are you sure you want to be with Khonshu again?” Taweret asked. “Seems like you really want to get away from him.”

“I did,” Marc confessed. “but this is our only shot. It’s the way it’s gotta be.”

Steven looked between the two gods. “Please, Taweret, Shait, you have to help us. Please.”

Shait and Taweret looked between each other, Shait nodding quietly. They turned to Marc. “For my avatar, you have my help.”

“What the heck?” Taweret shrugged. “Osiris is not going to like this, but his gate is the only path back.”

“Osiris hasn’t liked anything for hundreds of years, he’ll get over it.” Shait grumbled, casting a wink at the two men as Taweret went to begin steering the ship. The two men stumbled as the ship quickly turned, Shait grasping the backs of both their shirts to keep them standing.

“Go back inside! You don’t have long.” Taweret shouted. “Get those Scales balanced.”

“Go, do this for my avatar. She needs you.” Shait commanded, releasing them as Steven ran for the door.

Marc nodded to the god. “Thank you.”

The god nodded back, as Marc ran to the door with Steven, the two entering.

When they would return to the ship, Shait would be gone, nowhere to be seen.

And the scales would be unbalanced.

Then Marc would stand in the Field of Reeds wanting nothing more than Y/n’s sweet comfort she brought to him.

But he was alone.

tag list: @1950schick @obnoxioussmiley @rosaren2498

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #marc spector x avatar!reader #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x avatar!reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x y/n #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu x y/n

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mikrowrites · 2 years

Text

fate goes pt.3

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n meets steven, and has to witness her worst fears (takes place during episode 4)

warnings: angst, major character death, child death discussed, arson, blood, gun use, language, canon violence, episode 3 and 4 spoilers

shait: god/dess of fate and destiny

a/n: i’m purposefully skipping over most of the events of episode 3 (senfu’s sarcophagus and khonshu being banished) because i don’t really have a great idea of how i want to write that, and i’ve been wanting to write this part so badly

fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just, and I trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes,

dust to dust

Y/n watched as Steven walked across the deserted campsite, looking for supplies. She wasn’t surprised when meeting him, not a bit, but he was sure surprised to see her.

“Who’re you?” he’d asked after she uttered his name while he worked to put the pieces of the map together.

“Y/n.” She responded, the man halting a moment to look at her.

“Y/n? The Y/n? The one who left Marc?” He asked quizzically.

She sighed, leaning against the van. “Yup. The one and only.”

Steven noticed her discomfort, instead smirking and quipping a joke. “Can’t blame ya. He’s a right bother, innit?”

Y/n smiled slightly back. “Yeah, he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“For you and me both.” He grumbled, before going back to work on the star map.

She now watched him, and acknowledged how much gentler he was than Marc, carefully rummaging and digging, walking and carrying himself with more of a slouch and a playful disposition. Y/n looked away, gathering the climbing equipment as she spoke aloud. “So Khonshu has lost his freedom, huh.”

“He has. I regret that I could not see this fated outcome.” Shait responded.

“Not your fault. You read it right; both are just serving gods in different ways. You can’t read people’s minds. Only the bare basic of intentions.” Y/n replied. It was an odd occurrence, the avatar to be comforting the god.

“I suppose. Pardon me for not calling dramatic attention as Khonshu would; I wish not to be cast away as well.” Shait solemnly stated.

Y/n smiled up at the god. “I get it. I’m scared to if it helps.”

Shait was silent a moment. “I am not scared per say.” They bent down to Y/n’s level. “I can only establish the fates of people; it is uneasy to not know the fate of outcomes.”

She nodded, turning as Steven returned over. “Having a party with Shait?”

“Oh yeah. A real crazy one.” Y/n replied, beginning to help strap Steven in to the harness.

“So, you can read fortunes and fates and all that, yeah? Death dates and all that?” Steven asked. Y/n hummed in response as she closed a carabiner, tightening a strap. He laughed a bit. “So you could read mine?”

Y/n froze, before harshly tightening the strap and straightening up so she was face-to-face with Steven. “Never ask me to do that again.”

“Right! Sorry, didn’t mean to offend.” Steven quickly replied, Y/n turning away and walking towards the cavern.

“I’ll go down first, you follow.” She simply said before daintily sliding down her rope, leaving the man stunned.

After discovering the shape of the maze to be the Eye of Horus, the two became separated as they fought against the undead priests. Y/n knocked the last one down, hanging from the edge of a dark pit, before pulling herself up over the edge, laying against the rock as she fought to catch her breath. She found herself laughing breathlessly, almost deliriously, before she let a hoarse scream escape her throat, a short one full of fear, relief, and exhaust.

Y/n pulled herself to her knees, looking up to discover Arthur Harrow—she had learned his name to be from Marc—revealed standing across the deep chasm. He gave another of those gentle smiles, one that she definitely did not trust. “You handled that beautifully.”

She scrambled to her feet cautiously. “Why do all men like you... feel it necessary to be just so... condescending?” Y/n suddenly looked over to her side as she heard gunfire in the distance. She took that as her cue to turn and begin walking towards the exit, leaving the man.

“The little girl was nine.”

Y/n stopped.

“Wasn’t she nine? Maybe she would’ve been ten in a few days. She wanted to be a doctor too, a little kind heart who wanted to help heal others. She wouldn’t stop telling you about it, wouldn’t she? How she wanted to be just like you. Both of her parents died in the fire, her little brother too. I don’t think she would’ve blamed you for leaving medicine if she knew the weight you carried. She was the one patient whose fate you refused to read; and yet, the smoke inhalation stopped her little heart in the end.” Harrow continued.

“Do not listen to him child. Continue on.” Shait stated firmly.

“The scales achieve their judgement by revealing to me moments of sin and pain.” He continued, holding his staff before him. “And perhaps it would deem you good. You are an embodiment of luck, none of my disciples could have a bullet hit you.”

Y/n shook her head. “If you’re trying to convince me to join you, give up. I won’t. You are playing with fate, and disobeying the fates decided by Shait.”

“The man, the mercenary you once so loved, and I suspect you still do,” Harrow sat slowly down onto the stone. “That man is in agony. More pain than anyone can bear. Even you, who is surrounded by so much death. But he still hasn’t told you the truth.”

She scoffed. “Well you’re obviously dying to.”

“Careful, Y/n. Walk away.” Shait spoke, but the woman took slow steps towards the edge.

“So why don’t you just go ahead? The floor is yours.” Y/n huffed.

“I read his scales.” Harrow simply replied. Those words struck fear into Y/n’s heart, he could read scales, she could read fates, something so terrifyingly similar. “The scales do not lie.”

“The fire was caused by mercenaries. And no one know who they were, do they?” He said.

Y/n’s frown deepened. “You’re saying Marc was one of them?”

“You said it. What do you think?” Harrow asked, Y/n instead turning away, facing away from him in thought. “Marc remembers everything that happened in those days. Every innocent person who died. But one victim stands out. A little girl, with a little knitted pink hat. Beads intertwined into it, to spell the name ‘Addison’.”

Y/n’s face crumpled as she fought to withhold tears, not wanting to believe that Marc had played a part in the even that threw her world upside down, that made her give up on helping people and change her fate. That he could be fine with the slaughter of dozens of innocents. She suddenly turned back, her voice shaking as she choked down her tears. “Are you done?”

Harrow was quiet in response, Y/n allowing a tear to roll down her face as he finally replied: “I do hope you find your closure.”

With that Y/n turned and walked away, letting the tears fall as she walked down hallway to hallway.

“He is a sick and manipulative man.” Shait spoke out to her.

“But he’s not wrong, is he? Is he?” Y/n croaked out, walked quickly to find Steven.

Shait sighed. “I do not know.”

Y/n finally found the room, walking carefully into it. She watched as Steven straightened up, excitedly holding up the stone ushabti of Ammit and letting out a giddy laugh. “Y/n, look! We won! And the ushabti goes to... us!” He continued to ramble as she stalked closer, her facial expression wary and dark. “You alright, love?”

“Can he hear me?” Y/n asked.

“Alexander? I don’t think so, god I hope not.” Steven chuckled.

“What happened at the building fire?” Y/n harshly asked, stressing each word as she walked up, right in front of Steven. “I’m talking to you.”

“What?” Steven quietly uttered.

Y/n gave the man a shove. “I’m talking to you, Marc!”

She watched as suddenly his eyes widened, his posture and expression changing immediately. Suddenly he grabbed Y/n arm, moving to go for the exit. “Come on, let’s go let’s go let’s--”

“No.” Y/n rebutted, ripping her arm out of Marc’s grasp.

“We need to go right now.” Marc tried to usher her, but Y/n insisted and shouted.

“Marc, no. No! What happened at the building fire!”

Marc gently held her arm, almost reassuringly. “Listen to me. We need to leave right now. I will explain everything, I swear. But we have to go.”

Y/n shook her head, stepping backwards away from him, before leaning forwards, jabbing her index finger at him. “Did you kill all those innocent people?”

“Of course not. Of course I didn’t.” Marc was quick to respond.

She was silent a moment, before making direct eye contact with him once more. “But you were there. You were there.”

“I...” Marc seemed to grasp for an explanation. He then responded softly, with the eyes of a haunted man. “I was there. Yeah, I was there.”

Y/n nodded mirthlessly. “Yeah. The event destroyed my entire life, that made my gift a curse, that made me cry myself to sleep at night and wake up screaming. And how did it happen?”

Marc was silent, before he responded in a quiet and low tone. “My partner, after we killed our target, a human trafficker. He set the fire and sealed the exits that killed everyone in the building.” Y/n turned away, covering her face with her hand as she tried to stop the build-up of tears. “I tried to save them, I tried to save so many of them, I managed to get that little girl out, I hope, I wanted her to make it...”

“No.” Y/n snapped around back towards him. “But you brought a killer right to them. All those innocent people and families. Right?” She gave him another hard shove, Marc closing his eyes and taking it.

He nodded. “Yeah. And he eventually came for me too. The fate you read? It was him. I was supposed to die because of him too. But I didn’t die, and I should have, even you know I should have.”

“I’ve tried to tell you about the fire since the first night I held you when she died. I’ve tried to find some way to tell you. I just didn’t know... I’m sorry.” Marc begged.

“But you didn’t. You never did. You just lied to me.” Y/n spat.

Suddenly there was thudding, causing both of them to turn towards the entrance of the tomb. “They’re here.” Marc growled.

Y/n immediately dropped the conversation, ready to bring it up after they were out. She began looking around the room. “There must be another way out.”

“Okay, go find it. I’ll hold them off.” Marc responded, thrusting the ushabti into her hands.

“Marc, no! I have Shait’s power, they can’t hurt me, you don’t--”

“You’re lucky, aren’t you!” Marc shouted, grapping a ceremonial weapon. “If you’re lucky then you’ll find an exit and get that thing out of here. Go!”

Y/n cast him one last look before running, she was about to leave the room before she stopped behind a column. “Shait, read me his fate.”

“Child, you don’t want--”

“Read me his fate, goddamn it!” Y/n interuppted.

The god was silent for a moment.

“Three minutes, thirty-six point five nine seconds.”

Y/n breath caught in her throat. It was like she was sitting in their bed all over again, finding out she would lose him. And although he lied, and although he played a part in the event that destroyed her life, she didn’t want this. She never wanted this.

“Y/n, you need to run and go.” Shait urged.

“No.” Y/n replied. “I won’t leave him this time.”

The men and Harrow entered the room, aiming their guns at Marc. Harrow stepped forwards. “Just you? The rest is silence. I remember the first morning I woke up knowing that Khonshu was gone. The quiet was liberating. You’re a free man. And of course, with that freedom comes choice. And right now, you have a very important decision to make.”

Marc was silent and still for a moment. “Okay.” Suddenly he burst forward with a yell, cutting down one of the men with the weapon, turning to swing it at another. He then threw it at the man next to Harrow, who pulled a handgun from the soldier’s holder.

Y/n had to cover her mouth with her hand to try and force a scream to not rip out from her throat when the first bullet entered Marc’s chest. She wanted so badly to run to him, to get him out of there. But she instead let tears flow from her eyes, refusing to let him die alone, though he would never know it.

The second shot rang through the room, and Marc fell backwards, into the shallow waters surrounding the sarcophagus. Y/n removed her hand from her face, exhaling shakily. This time she would not run, even as she watched the life leave the body of the love of her life.

“Fate goes as ever fate must.” Shait’s words echoed in her ears, Y/n unable to tear her eyes from Marc’s body.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Y/n’s lips quivered as she quietly whispered the words, as though presenting a eulogy.

Fate had arrived.

tag list: @1950schick @obnoxioussmiley

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector imagines #marc spector imagine #marc spector x avatar!reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x y/n #mcu imagine #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x avatar!reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu x y/n

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mikrowrites · 2 years

Text

fate goes pt. 2

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n and marc’s paths cross once again, causing y/n to wonder if she was fated to him (takes place during episode 3)

warnings: angst, allusions to death, fighting, language, episode 3 spoilers, slight episode 4 spoilers

shait: god/dess of fate and destiny

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” - fate goes, the ninth hour

It had been years since Y/n had read a fate.

She had even begged, sobbing on the floor of her friend’s flat, for Shait to chose a different avatar, but the god reassured her. Y/n had found a way to alter the power granted to her, finding herself able to read fortunes. The only smallest fraction of a persons intentions. It wasn’t telepathy or mind-reading, more like a basic feeling of someone’s morality.

Fate was not lost on her, though. Y/n still was firm in her belief in fate and how it worked; so she used the fortunes to carry out Shait’s will that the fates not be tampered with in ill manner.

Y/n was not an avatar of a god of the Ennead; that being said, however, she knew when a meeting of the gods was called.

It was an uncommon thing; usually the avatars did not know each other or communicate with each other unless in a time of crisis due to the gods’ decision to not interfere with worldly events, but to instead carry out their usual duties. When these meets took place, Y/n was not summoned, rather the avatar of Anubis.

However, she was surprised when a portal to the Pyramid of Giza appeared in the alleyway she strode pass, bringing her to a stop. She knew a meeting would be called when she saw the eclipse swallowing the sun whole by the moon, the work of a god. Y/n did not expect to be called upon.

“We never get called... is it normal to be called?” Y/n turned towards Shait, who towered behind her.

“No... it’s not.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, exhaling before stepping through the portal.

She had never attended a meeting of the gods. Y/n traced her fingers across the golden bricks, casting her eyes towards the open room where the meeting was held. All the avatars sat at their respective places, with two men standing in the center, their backs to her. Y/n stepped forwards into the room, the avatar of Osiris noting her appearance. “Ah, avatar of Shait, come forward.”

Y/n began walking into the center of the room, the two men turning towards her. The first was an older man, with longer hair and a cane grasped in his hand. He seemed to size her up and down before fixing Y/n with a deceivingly gentle smile. The second man turned shortly after, freezing suddenly at the sight of her.

Her steps suddenly halted, the sound of her heels scratching on the floor echoing through the pyramid. Y/n felt the breathe sucked out of her lungs, her expression one of shock and horror. It was as if she had seen a ghost, and for a moment she was almost certain she had. She thought she would never see him again; yet here he stood before her. “... Marc?”

“Y/n?” he responded incredulously. She opened her mouth to reply but her body suddenly jerked, her face casting upwards as her eyes glowed a bright white glow, before she lowered her head once more, walking over towards Osiris.

Marc followed her with his eyes, his mind reeling and his heart racing as he watched her step forwards. Y/n halted in front of the avatar of Osiris. “What is it you command of me?”

“We have a judgement to cast. Khonshu is accusing this man of attempts to bring Ammit back to our plane. We require your assistance in reading of their fortunes.” The avatar spoke.

“As you wish.” Y/n replied in a voice not of her own, stepping towards the man first. He again fixed her with a gaze, closing his eyes as she reached her index and middle finger up to his temple, her eyes glowing somewhat brighter. After some time Shait must have found satisfactory, Y/n lowered her fingers, and strode over to Marc.

Marc stared into her illuminated eyes, unflinching as she rested her fingers on his temple. He took in her face, her lips, her cheekbones, her beautiful hair he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through. It was shorter now, be noticed.

He wanted to beg her, ask her why she left and where she went, though as he watched her read his fortune, Marc began to somewhat suspect why.

The woman turned away, walking back to Osiris.

“I see no ill will of either of these men; both are simply serving their masters.” Y/n spoke Shait’s words.

“No, no, that’s not right!” Marc shouted.

Osiris silenced him. “That is enough. Fortune and fate has been determined.”

Khonshu continued to shout and threaten via his avatar, with the other man kindly denying, but soon enough the meeting was over and done.

The gods left the avatars control over their bodies, Y/n exhaling as she regained her senses, before turning towards Marc with a solemn expression. She watched as he spoke with the avatar of Hathor with hushed voices.

“Did not expect to see him here?”

Y/n shook her head. “No. I didn’t. Did you know?”

Shait looked down at their avatar. “We have always promised not to keep secrets from one another, yes?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “You know what I saw too.”

“I do.” Shait acknowledged.

“Then you know the fate I read... his fate... he should be dead right now.” Y/n slowly replied.

“Khonshu must have changed his fate.”

Y/n huffed a quiet breath of laughter. “Maybe.”

Shait hummed in response. “You know better than most that you cannot outrun fate.”

“No,” Y/n stated, watching as the man began to make his way over to her, “you can’t.”

Marc stepped up to her hurriedly. “We need to talk.”

Y/n quietly nodded, following him. They approached his portal, stepping out of it into busy streets of Cairo.

“Ah shit.” Y/n quietly exhaled. “Gonna take me awhile to get back from here.”

Marc humorlessly laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah run off to where? Where you left me?”

Y/n pursed her lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Marc, I am.”

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Marc replied. “I woke and bam! You were gone. No note, no warning, just gone. All because, what... you were called to be an avatar?”

“No.” Y/n quickly responded. “No, I--I was an avatar long before we even met.”

Marc scoffed. “The whole time? The whole goddamn time?”

“What was I supposed to do? Just tell you that oh, by the way, I serve an Egyptian deity as their human embodiment with powers?” Y/n shouted.

“Yes! No, I... You know I wouldn’t have thought you were crazy.” Marc sighed.

“Uh-huh, obviously. Khonshu, really?” Y/n frowned.

Marc shook his head. “It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Y/n said.

They were both silent for a moment, before Marc cautiously stepped closer to Y/n, carefully sliding his hand into hers. “I just... I need you to tell me. Why did you leave?”

Y/n let her eyes cast down to the ground, nodding her head and squeezing his hand. “As I’m sure you do, I receive gifts from Shait as their avatar. One is fortune, the other is fate. And with fate... remember when I quit my residency when I was working an ER shift, and all those people came in from that building fire?” Marc nodded as Y/n exhaled shakily. “I knew they were going to die. Every single one of them. I read each of their fates, one by one, and knew they had hours, minutes, seconds. I was surrounded with the inescapable knowledge of death that it was too much. So I left that life. And with you...”

“... you read my fate.” Marc finished.

She nodded. “And the thought of loosing you... having to deal with that pain and hurt... I did what I do best and I ran.”

Marc silently pulled her into his arms, letting her rest her forehead on his chest like she did years ago, the man softly rubbing her shoulder blade with his thumb. “How are you even alive? You’re supposed to be dead, your fate was read that you should be gone.”

He embraced her a little tighter. “My partner… he killed everyone, and I should be, but Khonshu found me, made me his avatar.” Marc rested his chin on her head. “You ain’t losing me.”

Y/n looked up at him, nodded with a tight smiled and eyes full of tears. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “I know.” Marc pulled away. “But we have some bigger problems we need to fix now. The fortune was wrong.”

She nodded, grasping his hand firmly.

“Alright. Where do we start?”

tag list: @1950schick @obnoxioussmiley

*part three coming soon*

EDIT: i am dumb and forgot harrow serves ammit but isn’t her avatar. oops. i have edited this and changed that, thank you so much @simrantheconqueror for bringing it to my attention i appreciate it a lot !!

#marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #marc spector x avatar!reader #marc spector x y/n #moonknight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x avatar!reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n

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mikrowrites · 2 years

Text

fate goes

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n trusts fate, until it proves to be against the man she loves (takes place before marc becomes khonshu’s avatar)

warnings: angst, allusions to death, abandonment themes, slight episode 4 spoilers

shait: the god/dess of fate and destiny

a/n: will have a part two! i am in moon knight brainrot rn so enjoy! it’s a little shorter than what i usually write, but i wanted to separate it into parts

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” -fate goes, the ninth hour

The day that Y/n read Marc Spector’s fate, was the day she packed her bags and disappeared, untraceable from the man.

He had returned from one of his assignments, stumbling into their shared apartment with a face littered with cuts, dropping his bag at his feet. Y/n emerged from the bathroom, her hair still dripping wet, the towel falling from her hands as she rushed over to Marc.

She placed her hands on his cheeks, eyes darting over the injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Just some bumps and scrapes, I’m okay.” Marc’s voice was gruff, but gentle as he raised his hands up the carefully pull hers down, letting the woman rest her wet head onto his chest as they stood in the quiet apartment.

Y/n knew Marc was a mercenary; she knew before he even told her. It was a keen observation on behalf of Shait.

Shait and Y/n had been bonded as their avatar for years, as death did not scare the girl. She was studying in medicine when the god found her, drawn to her care of the dead and her firm belief of fate. Y/n trusted fate with her whole being, that life was strung out by fate.

She didn’t receive quite the flamboyant and extreme gifts other avatars might; instead she was bestowed with two gifts. One, fortune. She was essentially lucky, succeeding in her tasks. Y/n suspected perhaps she could win the lottery, though she never bought a ticket to test the hypothesis. The other, reading fate. She could read a person’s fate to the date.

Essentially, a person’s time span. When they would die.

Y/n never told Marc; how do you tell someone that you’re the avatar of an Egyptian deity? You simply can’t without being considered insane. So she didn’t.

It was her little secret, though the god would appear in her periphery often and their voice would permit her brain, but she otherwise led a normal life. Y/n had given up the medical field when reading fates became too much, she instead worked at a coffee shop part time, jumping between different jobs.

But she rested her head against Marc’s chest, and the horrible fear rose in the back of her mind. The fear that one day he wouldn’t come home, that he’d be gone.

The fear didn’t go away, even as Y/n laid in bed next to a sleeping Marc, staring at the ceiling. The sand around the bed, as well as the ankle restraint on his leg didn’t bother her, she knew about DID and was supportive of him.

Marc snored lightly, as Y/n was staring at the popcorn ceiling, her mind reeling.

“Don’t do it.”

Y/n looked over to where Shait sat in a chair, their silhouette illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. She looked over at Marc once more before turning again to the god, raising up to sit on the edge of her side of the bed. “Do what?”

“Don’t be coy. I know what you were thinking about doing.” Shait replied.

She sighed. “I’m just so scared of loosing him.”

“This won’t help you, it’ll only make you count the days.” They chided gently.

Y/n was silent, the god exhaling. “You love him so much, child. Can you bear the weight of knowing when he is gone?”

“It’s already a weight of not knowing if he’s coming back.” She hissed, snapping her attention over to be sure Marc was still asleep. He was, thankfully, Y/n watching his eyelashes twitch against his cheeks.

“I will not stop you.” Shait responded after a beat of silence. “But child, do not use this gift as a curse.”

Y/n pursed her lips, gripping the sheets with her fingers.

“I need to know.”

Shait lowered their head in acknowledgment. “The knowledge is yours.”

She turned, running her fingers through Marc’s hair, before resting her index and middle finger on his temple. Y/n closed her eyes, before they opened, replaced with a white glow.

Numbers flit across her vision, until the landed on a combination. Y/n’s glowing eyes widened slightly, a single tear falling down her cheek as she removed her fingers, the glow ceasing.

Y/n shook her head, holding her hand as though she had pressed it against a hot iron. “No, no no I take it back, please.”

The chair was empty.

A voice rang through her head. “I’m sorry child. I warned you.”

Y/n stifled her tears, leaning forwards to softly kiss Marc’s lips, before she stepped out of the bed, quietly packing her bags and stepping out of the apartment.

Marc woke that morning to an empty bed, and empty closet, and an empty feeling in his chest.

Fate was a tricky thing; and though Y/n was gifted with fortune, fate is an inescapable force.

And Y/n trusted fate, and knew it was just. She had to trust it’s judgement, but she knew she couldn’t handle the pain of fate being carried out upon Marc Spector.

So she ran.

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #marc spector x avatar!reader #moon knight x avatar!reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x y/n

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mikrowrites · 2 years

Text

cottages of constellations pt. 3

c!wilbur x reader

summary: Y/n aides past allies and confronts an enemy; a ghost pays a visit; Technoblade makes Y/n an offer; the news Y/n never wanted hear arrives.

warnings: angst, manipulation, language, violence

(takes place at Disc War Finale to Technoblade’s Birthday Party)

A/N: I will make reference to Tommy’s death, but won’t dwell on it so much bc there’s so much story to write

Sunlight filtered through the wood shutters, soft snowflakes fluttering down gently around the artic refuge.

Y/n watched the snow fall from behind the shut window, watching each fragile ice crystal float down in a beautiful specter of mother nature.

Y/n had been healing. She really had been. After the Doomsday War, Philza offered her refuge in his attic, giving her a spare bed and a roof over her head and an escape and disappearance from the rest of the server. After all, she had burnt down both of her homes, and perhaps it was healing for Phil to house and help Y/n, to help heal her, which was something that he couldn’t do for his son.

She took another sip from her steaming mug of tea, before standing. She walked past a photo tacked onto the wall near the spare chest that housed her belongings, a photo of two young lovers with smiles and joy, unaware of how the future would strip them bare of that peace and youthful bliss.

Y/n made her way downstairs, where her eyes cast up to meet the photo Phil always lovingly displayed in the home.

The Wilbur in the photograph stared down at her, as if constantly considering her. Y/n sighed, tearing her eyes away and walking over to discard her mug before she felt a sharp tap at one of the house’s windows. She whipped around, surveying the room before looking out the window, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

A crow flew away into the snowy sky, leaving behind a single chest nestled gently into the drifts, with a sign carefully hung over it: For Y/n.

The girl’s lips parted slightly, wariness and contemplation echoing in her head. She shrugged on her winter cloak, sliding on boots and equipping her netherite sword, opening the door slowly.

Y/n scanned the area, seeing no noticeable threats. Techno and Phil had gone off on a voyage together the past afternoon, leaving the girl alone (which all three had agreed would be fine; Y/n was more than capable of handling herself and her own affairs, and wasn’t in requirement of the two powerful men protecting her) and to her own devices. She trudged to the chest, scanning the area once more before inhaling and exhaling deeply, reaching out to open the chest.

Inside laid a book, obviously written in, and an enchanted crossbow surrounded by four netherite ingots. Y/n’s mouth dropped slightly in shock, seeing the equivalent of power and money just laying in a chest in the snow for her.

She carefully pulled out the book, opening it to the first page where a familiar penmanship was scrawled out across the paper.

Y/n-

Haven’t seen you around for a while. Don’t know if I still trust you, but we both said a lot of stupid shit to each other when we last talked.

I hope this payment is enough to buy your loyalty, and we can talk after I get the discs back.

And Wilbur would’ve wanted you to have that gun.

- Tommyinnit

Y/n looked up from the book, reaching out for the crossbow, her eyes widening as the name appeared in her vision.

“Chekov’s Gun”

She held the crossbow with numb hands, staring at the weapon that Wilbur had once held and fought with, Y/n swallowing a lump in her throat.

She had been gone for a bit, she didn’t quite know what was going on. Get the discs back? Tommy was after his discs again? Which meant--

Oh. Oh. Y/n slammed the chest shut, still clutching the crossbow and ran in the house, throwing on her armor and grabbing all the weapons she had. She then raced to where her horse was tied up outside the house, throwing the rope off. She placed the gun in her inventory, climbing onto the horse and cracking the reins, taking off across the snowy terrain.

The snowflakes that had seemed dainty and pure that morning felt like they were cutting through Y/n’s face like glass, the girl riding through the arctic. The girl knew one thing, and one thing for sure, and that was that there was only one way for Tommy to try to get his discs back, and that was through confronting Dream himself. And Y/n knew everything about Dream, his bunkers and vaults and advantages.

If Tommy confronted Dream today, he would die.

After a measure of time that was undetectable by Y/n, the view of the greater server appeared over the horizon. She shouted, urging her horse onwards, riding towards the familiar path.

—

Y/n and Punz turned to each other, exchanging a nod before stepping through the portal. They both had been used as tools in Dream’s intricate play of war and despair, and they were tired and done.

Punz had brought Y/n to the tower and shown her his similar message, the two splitting up and racing about the sever, gathering all the inhabitants they could to help aide Tommy and Tubbo.

Y/n had had time to ponder, to regret. She was glad L’manberg was properly gone, that much was true. But Y/n hated how her hands would be stained red for that act, because it made her no better than Wilbur.

And Wilbur… well, Y/n had time to reflect on that too. For her, yes, she loved him desperately, had needed him like one needs air to breathe. But with the war and all that had occurred, she concluded her Wilbur, her love, died in the final control room with her.

Y/n was healed, or rather, as healed as she could get. She was done playing war dog on the server, and enjoyed instead retiring to the daily chores at Philza and Techno’s arctic refuge.

The purple haze and particles swirled around her, Y/n equipping the crossbow in her hands and the portal carried her body towards a room she had wanted to forget.

Punz stepped forwards, Y/n at his side, causing a defeated-looking Tommy, a shocked Dream, and a surprised but near-death Tubbo to whip their heads in their direction.

“I’m sorry, Dream.” Punz interrupted their talk. “I’m sorry, Dream. You should’ve paid us more.”

Y/n gestured her head to the side, Tommy and Tubbo running and scrambling to get behind the two netherite-clad warriors, the girl holding up the crossbow and notching an arrow. “You’re going to leave those boys alone and you’re going to fucking die.”

“What makes you say that, Y/n? You think you can kill me?” Dream spat.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “After everything you’ve put me through? Made me do? I would kill you a million times over.”

Tommy and Tubbo exchanged a look with each other, their expressions unreadable as they watched her, the girl who had fought a war with them, laughed with them, and then betrayed them, but now was expressing a ferocious protectiveness over the boys.

But then Y/n lowered her crossbow, smirking and shaking her head. “But regrettably, the honor of killing you doesn’t fall on me.”

Suddenly every member of the SMP stepped through the portal, armor clad and weapons drawn, standing in front of Dream. The man’s sly expression dropped, as he was surrounded by the people he thought he had under his control.

Y/n then turned, and walked away from her tormentor, the man who manipulated her with glory and retribution, towards her friends, her family. Y/n joined their ranks, standing off against the strongest man in the server, reduced to nothing with the snap of a finger.

And later, as they parted ways, Tommy and Tubbo racing back to the SMP and to their bench on the overlook, Y/n let out a shout. “Hey Tommy!”

The boy turned from across the nether path to look at her, the girl smiling softly, genuinely. “You are the best right-hand man. I’m proud of you.”

Tommy grinned back, before straightening up to a salute, a motion neither had performed in a long time. Y/n stood at attention to salute in return, the two regarding each other with respect. There would be time for apologies and discussions later, now wasn’t the time.

But the two past soldiers saluted to each other one last time, before parting ways.

—

Y/n had met the friendly ghost of her past lover a second and final time, before it happened.

She had been training in the artic when the bright voice of someone familiar, a faint echo of a man, filled her ears.

“Why did you do it?”

Y/n nearly sliced her axe through the apparition, the ghost moving back in time to evade the blade with a soft shout. The woman stepped backwards, staring at the figure as she breathed heavily, sighing and shaking her head. “I wish people would stop asking me that.”

Ghostbur tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

She inhaled deeply through her nose, burying the head of her axe in the snow as she leaned on the butt of the handle. “Why I did it, why I destroyed that place.”

“Oh! L’manberg!” He exclaimed, the woman flinching at the name. “No no, that’s not what I meant.”

“What, you’re gonna pick my brain like he used to?” Y/n raised an eyebrow. “I’m not in the mood. I don’t even know why I’m humoring you right now.”

Ghostbur frowned. “Alivebur did a lot of bad things, but I’m not him. I don’t remember any of the bad things he might have said or done to you, but I remember picking tulips with you and campfires, and the constellations—“

Y/n raised her palm in a gesture for him to stop. “That’s enough.” She quietly voiced.

The ghost watched her as she silently gripped her axe once more, placing it across her back. She began to clear up her training space, not sparing him much of a glance before beginning to walk back to Phil’s house.

“Why did you do it? Why did you burn down the cottage?”

Y/n stopped in her tracks, her back still to the ghost.

Ghostbur continued. “I-I was there, I stood in the flames and tried to put them out but I couldn’t, it all just burned, and I couldn’t do anything about it. Why did you do it?”

The woman was still and silent, seeming to ponder her words. She finally looked over her shoulder and the ghost was surprised.

Her face would’ve been unreadable to anyone but Wilbur. And Ghostbur could see the parting of her lips, the crease of her eyebrows, the swirling in her eyes. Her face portrayed that of someone who had seen a ghost (and she had and was, but not in that sense), her face pale and her mouth dry, her eyes showing equal amounts of guilt, acceptance, anger, restlessness. The eyes of an animal caught in a trap but yet haunted, yes, Ghostbur came to the conclusion that was the right word.

Haunted. Y/n looked haunted.

And the ghost deduced as well that Y/n had to have thought, in her head, she was speaking to her Wilbur, to Alivebur, because her final words she ever spoke to him wouldn’t have made sense otherwise:

“I moved on. I think you should do the same.”

With that she turned and left, Ghostbur watching her leave, an empty ache in him wishing he could alleviate her pain in some way. Yes, that was that. The ghost vowed in that moment, watching Y/n step into the cabin, that he would spend as much time as he could to assure her happiness, something he couldn’t do long-term when alive.

He’d never get the chance.

—

Y/n laid on the angled roof of Philza’s house, her lips parted slightly as her eyes traced designs of warriors and beasts and lovers. Her breath fogged into the night sky, the girl indifferent to the cold surrounding her.

“Kid, what’re ya doin’?”

She flicked her eyes down to where Technoblade stood beneath her, staring up at her form with disinterest but yet a glint of confusion or curiosity.

Y/n smirked, her eyes traveling back up to the sky. “Chasing constellations.”

Technoblade definitely had the right idea to be a tint worried at the sight of Y/n on a roof, staring off into nothing. It had been a week and a half since they had both blown up New L’manberg, and her mind was undoubtedly conflicted. Techno supposed if he were in the same situation, he’d feel the same perhaps. But now (though he’d never show it) he was just concerned of the well-being of his old friend.

So Technoblade was immensely surprised when Y/n patted a spot on the roof next to her and said: “cmon”.

The blood god was silent and still for a moment before pulling out his trident, using it to launch himself up and land gracefully onto the roof next to her. The girl didn’t flinch a bit, just turned back to the night sky.

Y/n looked tired, Techno noticed, but yet relieved. He hadn’t seen her this relaxed since their last war fought together away from this server, where she had spoken of a kindhearted brunette she was running away with after the battle’s conclusion.

Technoblade sat next to her, the girl sighing. “No more wars, Techno. I’ve fought my last one. I’m tired of being a pawn in someone’s game, of breaking myself for others.” Y/n huffed out a laugh. “I think I might try that retirement plan.”

“Retirement is overrated.” Technoblade groaned. “So if I made you an offer, you’d refuse?”

Y/n shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her kneecaps. “Depends on the offer. I’m pretty done being taken advantage of.”

Techno turned to look at her. “All these years and you don’t trust the proof I wouldn’t.”

“Can’t blame a girl for having trust issues.” She grumbled. “What’s the offer?”

“I’m putting together a group of people with common ideals. Anarchy, we’d be there to abolish these kingdoms’ governments before they can cause more death and destruction, cause more Wilburs.” Techno explained, the girl turning to him at the sound of her ex-lover’s name. “We’re called the Syndicate.”

Y/n murmured the name to herself, furrowing her eyebrows. “Who’s we?”

“Philza and I. Zephyrus and Prostileus. And, potentially, you.” He stated. “Codenames.”

She turned back to the stars, silent for a few minutes. Technoblade patiently sat in the quiet, letting the girl mull over her thoughts. It had been about five minutes when he spoke up. “So? What’ll it be?”

Y/n pursed her lips, before parting them with a soft exhale. “Andromeda… call me Andromeda.”

Technoblade smiled at his old comrade in battle, now considered an ally and friend.

“Welcome to the Syndicate, Andromeda.”

—

Wilbur looked over the sunrise, feeling all of his senses finally return to him, his mind flooding with reestablished memories, as well as new ones from his ghost counterpart. The breeze of the dawn filled his lungs and breathed life into him once more.

He began to recollect where he was, what was happening, barely establishing Tommy’s voice as a sudden thought ripped through his cortex.

“Y/n!” The man suddenly burst out, looking at each of the three boys in front of him, Ranboo’s eyes showing thoughts of confusion and distrust, while both Tommy and Tubbo’s faces went pale at the utterance of the woman’s name. “My muse, my Y/n, where is she, I need to find Y/n.”

“I-we don’t know.” Tommy stuttered out, gripping Friend’s lead in a death grip. The boy had hoped the topic of the woman wouldn’t come up, when Wilbur asked where his gun was Tommy resisted uttering her name to the newly revived man. “She’s been gone from the server—well, a while now.”

But that answer didn’t seem to satisfy Wilbur as he shook his head, stepping down from the ash covered rocks. “I have so much work to do, I’ve got to go, I have so much to be done!”

With that being said, the man dashed off before the boys could stop him, Tommy watching his retreating figure.

Y/n had spoken with the blonde before she dropped off the face of the server, sharing a brief moment with him at his hotel, a moment they both needed desperately.

The two sat on the roof of the hotel, the wind blowing around them, heavy with things unsaid and feelings unshared. They sat silently for a while, before Y/n sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

Tommy looked up at the girl, who stared at him solemnly. “I know I should be saying more to atone, but I truly am, sorry.”

Y/n looked out over the SMP below them. “I won’t lie to you and say I’m not glad L’manberg is gone, I am, I’m honestly relieved. That country caused me more hurt and heartbreak than any of the joy, but you, and Tubbo, and everyone… it brought you so much joy. I was selfish and wanting to forget, and I forgot about the joy. And that’s unforgivable, and my hands will always be stained, and I’m at peace with that never going away. But Tommy, I need you out of everyone to know I’m sorry.”

Tommy was silent for a moment. “My exile… did you know about it? Did he ever mention anything about it?”

“No, he didn’t. He kept plenty of things quiet from me, and if I’d have known—I would’ve found you, I wouldn’t have let those things happen to you, I would’ve died trying.” Y/n swore.

“Yeah, what you did to my home was real shitty.” He pondered over his words for a moment. “But Dream is a manipulative bitch. When Wilbur died, he turned us against each other. I don’t forgive you, but I understand you. Even though you’re a massive dickhead for what you did, I can’t hate you.”

Y/n smiled softly at Tommy. “That’s enough for me.”

“I’m gonna go visit him. Dream, that is. So, wait to leave until I come back out? I need someone who knows the full extent of the fucking awful things he’s done to be there.” He quietly asked, almost shyly, trying to resist cracking his tough façade.

“I’ll be waiting outside for you the whole time.” She assured.

And she did.

She waited for hours.

Then there was an explosion.

Y/n used her trident to propel herself on top of the prison, but there was no one to be seen, just displaced snow and smoking obsidian. She quickly vaulted herself down, and stood at the entrance.

Waiting.

She waited for days.

Until Sam stepped out of the portal, and it was like watching from the wreckage as a sword pierced through skin.

Y/n was done watching people die.

So she left.

“She’s gone, Wil.” Tommy mumbled, even though the man was long gone. “I don’t think she’s ever coming back.”

The boy turned back to his two friends, Ranboo’s voice low and dangerous. “What the hell did you do.”

—

It had surprised the entire Syndicate when Y/n showed up on the snowy porch of the arctic refuge months after her disappearance, a lopsided grin on her face and a messily wrapped parcel in her hands. “Happy birthday, Techno.”

“You actually came back!” Philza exclaimed, pulling the girl into a hug, followed by Niki. Ranboo and Y/n shared a smile and a nod, the girl and Techno clasping hands in a firm gesture of respect.

“I’ve been gone to long. The invitation Phil sent was reason enough to return.” Y/n assured, her friends showing her to the table with an abundance of cakes and chairs set around it, Ranboo fetching a fifth for her.

“Well, it’s good to see you Andromeda.” Techno mused, the woman smiling. It was the most of a thank you and welcome she would get from her old friend.

They all sat around the table, laughing and sharing stories, discussing the happenings of the SMP. Y/n had returned briefly a few months prior, at the news of Tommy’s revival, but left once more, without much of a word why.

“Well, Phil, I hope my bed’s still free. I can find or build a new place soon, but I should probably gather my bearings, it’s been a while.” Y/n teased.

Phil’s face was unreadable, before he spoke.

“Actually, your bed is taken at the moment.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, Wil’s been using it. Wilbur, he’s back. He’s alive, he was revived.”

The world around Y/n immediately froze. Her ears began to ring, unable to register the words from Philza’s mouth, as the others spoke around her. Her mind began to run a mile a minute, the words turning over in her head over and over and over…

He’s back he’s back he’s back he’s back—

“Y/n, you alright?”

Y/n’s head snapped up at Technoblade’s words, the girl nodded her head vigorously with a fake smile plastered on her lips. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine. She was far from fine. She finally was fine, healing and repairing and finally finding herself. But she wasn’t fine now.

Wilbur was back, and without a doubt looking for her.

Y/n was silent the rest of the party, standing back on the porch and running through scenarios in her head. It eventually came time for the Syndicate to part ways, Techno offering a spare bed which Y/n kindly refused.

Technoblade watched Y/n walk away from the refuge, pulling her cloak hood over her head. He tightened his grip on the railing. He couldn’t imagine the swirling storm concocting in her head.

Y/n walked away, finally letting her tears fall as she trudged through the snow, finally allowing, for a brief minute, her feelings to overwhelm and suffocate her. The air around her was cold, but she felt scorching hot, her lungs struggling to take in air, as though she were standing amongst the flames of a burning cottage, inhaling the sparks and smoke.

But then she composed herself, and approached the nether portal. She let the air return to her lungs, the tears dry, her pain release.

Wilbur was looking for her, she wasn’t an idiot. And he would find her, and she would have to see his face again. But Y/n would be ready, she’d be prepared.

She wouldn’t be looking into the eyes of a man who counted constellations under the night sky, read novels with her in the afternoons, built her a home and a love and a life.

She would be looking into the eyes of the man who killed that sweet girl Y/n once was in a war for independence, in a lost election, in an explosion.

Nonetheless, Y/n was ready.

Meanwhile, a man in a trench coat and a white streak running through his brunette locks stood in front of singed and collapsed wood. The riverbank had begun to overtake it, mosses and weeds covering the structure and flowers blooming around it, but even the sweetness of nature wasn’t enough to hide the evidence.

This was once a place of cottages and constellations, of soft spoken words and sunlight through windows, of a peaceful and picturesque life. But the past burns fast like spilled liquor, and can burn those in its path.

Wilbur turned and walked away from the wreckage, following the river north. He’d see Y/n again, and to be honest he didn’t quite know yet how this reunion would go.

Nonetheless, Wilbur was ready.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot imagines #wilbur soot x y/n #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot imagine #c!wilbur x reader #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp imagines #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dsmp imagines

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mikrowrites · 2 years

Text

Updates!

Hello hello! I am not dead haha!

This past semester has kicked my ass, so apologies I’ve been MIA. I hope to have some new things out soon.

In terms of requests, they are still closed for the time being. I’ve had a lot of writers block recently, so it’s been tough, and I don’t wanna stress myself out and not deliver something I’m not proud of.

That being said, I’m also done editing the third chapter of Cottages and Constellations! Plus I’m seeing the new Spider-Man movie this weekend so hopefully that gets the creative juices flowing!

Hope to have more out soon, hope you, dear reader, are doing well!

Happy Holidays!!!

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mikrowrites · 3 years

Text

andromeda

(vignettes cut from cottages of constellations; can be read as a one-shot)

c!wilbur x reader

summary: a series of memories from y/n’s perspective; the war, the death, the stars, the secret, and the meeting.

warnings: fluff, angst, violence, war themes, bad mental health situations, death, language, manipulation

a/n: this is basically a bunch of scrapped ideas from cottages of constellations that i shoved together bc i already had them written and have been hitting a writer’s block with pt 3. the only part of this you should regard as “canon” is the syndicate vignette, that will be in pt 3. enjoy!!

Y/n and Wilbur kept many secrets.

That was not something unknown by any, not a surprise to some. The two seemed to have words unspoken, existing between the glance of an eye or a brush of a hand, a nod of a head and a ever so soft sigh. Y/n and Wilbur kept many secrets to themselves and themselves only.

The cottage was one. A secret kept along a peaceful riverbank, until the price of TNT seemed higher than that forgotten paradise. There were some other secrets too. Some inconsequential, some almost burdening.

Y/n and Wilbur kept a secret they chose to not share with anyone. A secret that would be for the best if left unsaid.

But the price of freedom would prove higher and more demanding. The price for a tall brunette man to whisper the words into an enemy’s ear, for the enemy to relay it to someone who was once deemed an old friend.

The moment Schlatt spoke the secret out loud to Y/n with threatening intent, everything came crashing to the ground.

It was a secret Schlatt would die with.

—

The War…

Y/n arrived as the sun rose at dawn.

Wilbur was there to meet her, his uniform jacket unbuttoned messily and his cravat askew. As she approached him closer he smiled softly, but the smile was tired, aching, the light in his eyes dimmed by the bags beneath them.

What was the saying, “winning is easy, governing is harder”?

Y/n feared both feats were insurmountably difficult.

“Hello, love.” Wilbur sighed, striding the distance of Y/n’s approach and pulling her into his arms, holding her like a lifeline.

“Hey Wil, it’s okay, I’m here.” Y/n reassured.

He pulled away with a less tight smile, wrapping his fingers around her own, pulling her towards the majestic walls.

“Y/n L/n, welcome to L’manburg.”

And L’manburg was small, and undeveloped, and nothing quite impressive really. But it was her lover’s nation, and to Y/n it looked like a spectacle of heaven. “It’s wonderful.”

Wilbur led her into the camaravan, where battle plans and declarations had been hung and placed about, with an occasional empty bottle or a misplaced piece of weaponry.

Y/n had fought in wars before, in another life, far from this server. She had played the part of diplomat, of ally, of enemy. It was all a language familiar to her like breathing, and she suspected Wilbur was well aware, why else would he write begging her to join the front lines?

She hummed in thought, running her hands over a tabletop. “When’s the next battle, then?”

“Tomorrow.” Wilbur replied simply.

Y/n nodded. “Okay. Where do we start?”

Wilbur smiled once more.

—

The Death…

Y/n struggled against Quackity’s hold, screaming her throat raw. “YOU KILLED HIM!”

Smoke from the firework barrage still lingered on the execution box, Schlatt turning from his podium to Y/n. He smirked. “Y/n, my dear, he was a traitor. You know what happens to traitors.”

Y/n spat at his feet, the man laughing. “That’s cute. Remember Y/n, I hold all the cards in my hands. You don’t want to step out of line, remember? Who knows what secrets could get spilled.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Y/n glared, her eyes like fire as the two stood off against each other on the podium under Manberg’s watching eyes. “Because I am going to fucking kill you before you even think about it.”

Schlatt laughed loudly again, facing the crowd. “Do you hear that, folks? Miss Y/n is going to kill me!” He lowered his voice, leaning so he was face to face with her. “That’s treason, my friends.”

Y/n hardened her eyes, as Quackity let her arms go. She stepped forwards, her hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword. Everything was quiet, not the crowd’s jabs or cries were heard by her, not even Niki’s protests to spare her best friend.

Schlatt smiled, unsheathing his own sword as Y/n stood her ground, preparing to produce her own in hopes of taking down the tyrannical man once and for all.

“These were not the ideals of L’manberg.” Y/n shouted so the audience could hear her. “And Manberg should be no different. And I’m getting really fucking tired of you hurting everyone and everything I love. So yeah, I’m a traitor, because I value people over a country.”

“People you’d be willing to lose a life for?” Schlatt jeered.

“Time and time again, yes.” She verified.

Schlatt shook his head in amusement. “Y/n, the patron saint of L’manberg. You’ll fall as easily as any man.”

Y/n smirked, drawing her own sword. “Good thing I’m not a man then, yes?”

“STOP! Stop!”

The two adversaries’ heads whipped over, catching the glimpse of a tall brunette in a brown trench coat walking down the aisle of seats, hands out in a preventative gesture. “Stop.”

“Wil…?” The man who left her behind. The man who promised safety. The man who most importantly, loves her. The former President, to protect his former First Lady.

Schlatt’s sword ran through Y/n’s body. Wilbur screamed.

The girl gasped, grasping Schlatt’s shoulder’s with tight fingers, looking at him in shock. He had gotten the upper hand. Y/n had never lost a duel, yet this one was over before it had even started because she did the one thing she had been trained to never do in battle.

Y/n found distraction in a lover.

Wilbur would always be her hubris.

Schlatt leaned over with booze-tainted breath to whisper in her ear. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He then ripped the sword out of her, and everything went black. The last thing Y/n heard before waking up laying in the soft grass of a forest was the sound of Wilbur shouting her name.

Y/n was killed by JSchlatt

—

The Stars…

Long ago, in a world different from where she was now, Y/n’s mother had taught her every constellation strewn across the night sky. The young girl would marvel at her mother, eyes shining with curiosity and awe as the soft-spoken woman would point to each cluster of stars.

Life was simple then, before war after war Y/n was forced to fight and win. Before aching loss and hurt.