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ladybirdswritings · 4 months

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Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara was never known to be a man wanting. He was beyond content with the power surging through him upon his multiversal throne. That is until he lays his hungry eyes upon you. Now, he will do whatever it takes just for the taste of you… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

Notes: I couldn’t stop myself from this hades and persephone-esque fic so I hope you enjoy!! SW&P is far lighter if you desire that <3

next chap

one

Morning is a sweet greeting to you, warm and incandescent to shine it’s rays upon soft skin. As it always is. Though you find it to be dreary on days like this, as it is the same as the day prior, and the day prior to that day. As if it is not sparkling gold but shadowing gray.

All the same repetitive waltz for you.

Yet to your unknowing mind, much would change within the quick hour. Change not in the way of little things but rather in the way that would make your toes curl and your eager hands grab your tresses so you might not trip upon them on your dash toward the tallest hills.

You would have run had you known what was to come.

Yet you didn’t; and so? Your morning was quite a bore.

Similar to a zombie are your sunken cheeks and coffee kissed eyes decorated with awful bags. Your toothbrush is made of oak as is your boar-bristled comb. You tend to your prettying before slipping away from the hustle and bustle of a lively home. Four sisters and two brothers you sport, and an overbearing woman you dare to call your mother.

You made routine of this. Sneaking away with the latest print picked up from the small shop next to the apothecary in town. Out the oak wood door and past the burnt toast and meat to cuddle yourself comfortably against your favored weeping willow by the bend.

Your only company is the ducklings these days, though you don’t mind them much. They are mostly quiet beyond the occasional quack.

Serenity became you as you lay there in the remnants of springtime’s shadow, willfully sprouted in peonies and lilac blossoms.

Your print is a work of Austen, an old and worn thing but one you’d found comfort in recently. It would be your fourth time revisiting.

Would… however.

“Oh heavens sakes! You must enjoy making your mother walk upon tousled soil, girl! Have you got half a mind!? I don’t presume so otherwise you’d avoid any possibility of me losing a leg!”

A whine like that of a carnaged cat rings out from behind the bend. In the grassy plains your mother struggles her way toward you. You stand to your feet in swift motion, but your wandering eye finds curiosity in an unfamiliar bloom. Its colors an odd pairing of red and blue unfurled toward the sun.

What an odd thing, you think.

The huffing and puffing snaps your attention center, and you nearly grumble in complaint as you hurry toward your mother.

“Mama I was just—”

“Oh save it. I see you slip out each morning, I know full well your disdain for the company of your own family… but I didn’t come here to admonish you, sweet girl. Quite the opposite in fact. I am here to ask a favor of you. It seems the cold air has made our chickens most unwilling to provide us with eggs. Won’t you go in town and gather some?”

Like the rainfall’s mist caught by breath of wind, your hopes and plans of reading in the bend till dawn have dissipated. Pursing your lips, you nod— not wanting to administer a guaranteed headache at wake of your protest.

In to town you’ll venture.

✧*̥˚ … *̥˚✧

The cobblestone is cracked underneath your boot, as it is dampened by springtime’s departured mist. You like the clicking sound, though it is most lonesome at this ungodly hour.

The house cannot be run well with lack of your aid. Father left long ago and mother is just a dreadful housewife. The doctor blames her dissonance on the ailments within her mind’s confines though— she swears herself always to be whole and well.

Regardless, for the sake of your sisters— you help. Besides this, you owe it to her.

Your basket is made of weaved wicker and adorned with crimson cloth, at the end of the cobble is where life shines proud. A more lively gathering of townsfolk in search of early morning eggs to enjoy with their breakfast.

A single carriage, outdated as the things are, surges forward in an unstable command by a young man. He cannot be past twenty three, and his face is speckled with pale freckles. His hair is a burnt orange rasp.

The stallions are dark as midnight, sweat being huffed like chimney smoke from their nostrils. Dear god, the way he commands them is certain to ensure an accident.

You tuck the thought away in to the back of your mind to be focused upon your task. You’ll need no more than a dozen or perhaps three what with the vacuum cleaner your eldest brother refers to as his mouth.

Babblebrooke, it is where you’ve lived most your orphaned life. Surely some places have technology of picture books and magazines you skim through when you are awarded the rare chance but— you find yourself content with a place so simple.

You cannot imagine a life of loudness, no quiet space to tuck away and read. It’s a frightening thought.

The stand is nearby, only a few more passing steps and you’ll reach it. Your eyes are locked on the fresh berries, but you know full well you won’t have enough for them.

A bark startles you out of your trance, one excited and pointed. You jump at the sound and turn your head to find a cocker spaniel hound circling round and round to chase its own tail. You giggle at the sight, and its chestnut ears raise in alarm at the vibration.

Oh, it’s noticed you.

The little thing hobbles over excitedly, and you cannot help but bend on your knee to brush back its silken locks.

Beyond a canvas collar of pale pink lays a heart, engraved in molten silver the title: “Lyla.”

So she belongs to someone. Such a kind thing, they are to be a lucky companion indeed.

You smooth back the hair from her excited eyes before lifting to your feet again and continuing forward. She begins to follow you, but a movement in the alleyway shadows is a matter she finds far more pressing for her attention.

“Lyla…” you test in a whisper as you make your way behind a man hunched and gray— awaiting his eggs for breakfast.

Time seems agonizing and the line moves awfully slow, you peek behind the elder man to find annoyance laced in the eyes of the townsfolk. Blaire has taken a liking to the farm boy— it seems she’s busying herself with conversing nonsense with his mother rather than picking her fresh fruits for tart pastries.

You sigh, checking the time on your cracked, golden watch with impatience brewing at the soles of your boots. You sway on them, shifting your weight forward and back. No use just staring ahead.

Though it is quite loud, it doesn’t stop you from reaching in to your tote for “Jane Eyre.”

You find your favorite part, their first midnight meeting in the hallway. How romantic it is, you only wish that to be a possibility for you one day. You forbid yourself from joining the season of course but somewhere tucked away inside— you wonder how marvelous it would be for a broody and handsome thing to appear upon your doorstep with a bouquet the size of France.

You grin at the thought. Though it is swiftly interrupted by the quick patter of familiar paws.

“Woah! Easy!”

Your head snaps up at the gasps of those around you, and you are most horrified to see that the horses have reached the steep bend mere steps away. The ginger fool, they halt in warning and he kicks at them— slapping them with a russet pole. They comply, and the carriage loses control.

It creaks, hurling forward and disconnecting from its rusted shell. Tumbling at godspeed down the cobble and straight for little Lyla who lays mindlessly and happily on her back now.

Panic surges, and your eyes find worry in everyone’s features and yet no motive to act alongside it. Such cowardly men, allowing the poor thing to succumb to the bite of freak nature and cruel fate.

You won’t allow it. Though you feel frozen, the sharp and desperate shout of “Lyla!” from a phantom voice is enough to snap you back into the most horrible moment present.

“Christ!” You breathe, tossing Jane Eyre to the sapphire sky before surging forward. The carriage stalls on a pebble for a quick moment and it’s enough time for you to beat it by a mere step. You scoop the silly thing into your arms and as the wheel just grazes your skin— it is you now that is saved from immediate death.

A warm hand tugs at your wrist and you’re certain the brick wall has grown awfully large palms and fingers; for what you slam up against is hard and unpleasant.

You grunt, Lyla yelping in surprise where she is tucked up tightly against your chest.

Whistles and claps overtake the coward crowd and you sway upon your own boots as the wind itself makes you unsteady with its light graze. Firm palms steel you, grasping your shoulders tight to keep you together and well.

Your eyes venture on an upward path to find two crimson pupils imploring your features as if they are etched in stone and stored away in a beloved museum somewhere in Rome.

Brows pinched and quite bushy, eyes cold but curious, his reddened orbs search your face for what feels like a millennium. Fascinated.

Awed.

You blink, and the cry of the sweet creature in your arms breaks the trance you were entangled in. Lyla leaps from your arms and onto the cobble path— and you only huff and reach a weak arm toward her before the exhaustion of a skipped meal and your adrenaline fueled actions bring you to sit on the cobble ground.

He kneels beside you, the stranger. Yet you cannot find yourself mustering enough energy to truly examine his face. Just his eyes, rare things they are.

“She’ll be alright.” He whispers, hands still pleasantly upon your shoulders as if he fears you’ll topple over and shatter once he parts.

When you do lift your gaze however, stricken curious by the sickly silken sound of his voice, he’s gone.

“Thank y-”

The word croaks in your throat, and you can only wonder how it was possible… how quickly the phantom left you upon the cobble. The farm boy rushes over soon, much to the demise of poor Blaire. She stares on at the carriage and ginger man as if she wishes it was her nearly trampled.

He hands you fresh water and berries, and you wave his concern away and the crowd’s curiosity with a weak hand.

Your mind is only glued upon one thing.

The phantom.

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019 @cybersry

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oopsitszuli · 11 months

Note

Grieving!Miguel x reader where he constantly goes back to a universe where they’re still married but every time he goes back he tries to make the best of it knowing that their time is limited due to the readers inevitable death and he tries his best to put a stop to it every time

"You Happened." (Miguel O'Hara x FEM!Reader! Angst Drabbles/Scenario.)

Authors note: And it is here! The long-awaited Miguel Angst fic. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me surrounding this fic. Death is a hard topic to write about for me, but I knew this was something I really wanted to write. Please read with caution, and once again, thank you for your patience.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Death, grief, depression, mentions of violence, angst, depictions of spousal death, murder, and funeral mentions.

Miguel knew he was obsessive- or, as he called it, 'work-oriented'. Jessica and Lyla didn’t have to tell him twice. Miguel O’Hara was so obsessed with canon events and keeping the multiverse in line that it kept him cooped up in the Spider-Society headquarters or away in another universe for longer than he wanted. But he did it all to protect the one good thing in his life. Every minute spent working, every fight against an anomaly, no matter how bloody, was all for her. It was all for you. (Y/n) O’Hara, Miguel’s wife and the love of his life.

He knew he probably worked for too long, but that fact was reinstated when he returned from a three-day-long anomaly hunt in a far-off universe. Nueva York was dreary when he returned, and the rain that poured outside was relentless. Miguel hated the rain, although it was always your favorite, so he decided not to let it bother him too much. After containing the anomaly, Miguel returned to his office, only to be met by a somber Peter B. and an emotionless Lyla. He questioned their presence immediately, only to be told to sit down.

The news that reached Miguel made his world stop.

You had died. No- you had been murdered. According to Peter, you were trying to visit him at the Spider-Society headquarters when you were suddenly attacked by a villain who had discovered Miguel’s affections for you, and while you suffered, he was away in a far-off world, none the wiser to his wife’s murder. Miguel remained motionless in his chair, his body weak as the tears streamed down his face relentlessly. He wasn’t there when you needed him most, and now you were gone because of him. You were gone, and he was never going to see you again. Nothing even mattered anymore.

His mind was a swarm of grief. Anger consumed his every moment, and his eyes grew sore from having cried non-stop for as long as he could recall. His hours were now dedicated to sitting in the home you two had shared, curled up in a pile of your clothes and holding them close to his chest just so he could pretend you were still there. He lay motionless, holding tightly to your favorite t-shirt and crying loudly, he cursed out apologies until his voice was hoarse and continued after. He let you die. He did everything to protect you, and he still failed.

Having to bury your body in a closed coffin destroyed Miguel in a way he never thought possible. He sat next to your grave for hours until Jessica finally coaxed him away from you, and even then, he fought against her relentlessly. Work was abandoned, his duties ignored, and If anyone dared criticize his shutdown, they found themselves removed from the Spider-Society within a matter of seconds. Miguel was completely and totally lost, he was so desperate to feel you against him again, to smell your perfume, to kiss you…and he would never get that privilege again.

That’s when the idea hit him.

{{

“Miguel, you can’t…you said it yourself; The multiverse can’t be tampered with! Her death was a canon event!" Lyla was cut off as Miguel glared at her holographic figure. His gaze was unwavering, and it was apparent to the woman that he was a second from snapping at anyone who spoke against his plans. Lyla sighed softly, she hated seeing him like this, and deep down, she knew that if she were human, her heart would be breaking for him with every second they spent near each other. He looked a mess, obviously having been awake for days while in the throws of his grief, but even then, he stood here, dawned in civilian clothes but still covering his face with his normal Spider-Man mask and tapping relentlessly at the watch on his wrist.

“I don’t care, Lyla. That’s my wife, and I’m going to find her.” Miguel snapped at her. Lyla winced before sighing softly. She knew how much this was killing him, but she also knew that no matter what he did, no matter what (Y/n) he found, she would never be his again.

“Miguel, you could destroy the universe she lives in…and you’d just lose her again.” Lyla attempted to reason with him; her voice was soft, bordering on a whisper, Miguel continued to glare at her. His glare usually had no effect on Lyla, but this one was different from all the others…He was lost. Completely and utterly lost. So as a portal to a new dimension opened, Lyla only sighed.

“Fine. If I can’t stop you…Just promise me that you’ll be careful, Miguel.” She closed her eyes as her arms crossed over her torso. The man only nodded before disappearing in a flash of color, tapping at the watch on his wrist, Miguel would find (Y/n), and when he did, he promised himself that he would never let her go again.

The city he arrived to was almost indescribable. Vibrant hues of blues, pinks, and soft pastel oranges mixed effortlessly in the night sky. This was Nueva York, without a doubt, but this was definitely not his Nueva York. Once chromatic buildings that he had been so familiar with now were dimly hued in shades of navy blue and dusk pink, the lights from buildings surrounding them reflecting off of the glassy windows. Miguel closed the portal behind him, the mask on his face disappearing in seconds and allowing him to feel the cold raindrops that fell around him in their entirety. The feeling of the cold air against his face, the water trickling down his cheeks, and the brisk wind filling his senses almost made the man fall to his knees. She was here. Somewhere in this city was his wife, and she was waiting for him. He assured that he had traveled to a universe on the same night his counterpart in this universe died, knowing it would be easier to replace him since this universe’s Miguel’s body would go undiscovered for months after his death. The thought sent a shiver up Miguel’s spine, but he brushed it off. He was going to save (Y/n) the feeling of the grief that consumed him so effortlessly. She would never know her Miguel died, all she would know is that her lover was home in her arms every night, and the only one who would know the truth would be Miguel. Lying to her never crossed his mind in the ten years they’d been married, but now, he would live a lie just to live with her. So, with a deep breath, Miguel swung from the rooftop of the building, masking himself again and beginning to search the city for his long-lost love.

Miguel was searching for what felt like hours before he finally locked his eyes on an ivy-covered building resting neatly between buildings identical to itself. The lights were on, open windows allowed him to peer into the home effortlessly from the rooftop of a building across the way. His heart stopped as a figure walked in front of the window, a saccharine smile on her face as stopped to look out of the window, as if she were taking in the city block around her for the first time. Miguel froze. She looked up at the rooftop. Their eyes met so easily, her jaw dropping slightly and Miguel swinging into action before his mind could process the feelings exploding in his chest. He knew she was racing for the door the moment he left the rooftop, but as his feet hit the porch of her house and the large oak door swung open, Miguel felt the sadness facing him head-on.

“Miguel?” She said softly, a tinge of disbelief lining her tone as she stood standing in the brightly lit doorway looking up at her lover. “You’re al-" Miguel didn’t let her finish her sentence as he picked her up into his arms, holding (Y/n) close to his massive build as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. He hugged her so gently, afraid of breaking her, as tears began to stream down his cheeks relentlessly.

“Te extrañé mucho mi princesa..” He spoke between shaky breaths of air, not caring if his sadness may reveal the truth of his identity immediately, only caring that she was in his arms again. After a moment, he felt her arms wrap around him, her soft hands carding into his hair as she held him close to her body.

“Rough day at work?” She questioned softly. Miguel buried his face in the crook of her neck, desperate to be as close to her body as possible. He took in a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filtering into his nose and making the man feel his knees grow weak.

“You have no idea..” Miguel chuckled softly, collecting himself as he begrudgingly pulled himself free from her hold. She was here. She was breathing. She was alive…His wife was alive. And as she looked up at him, eyes glimmering in the lamplight of the foyer of their house, Miguel felt all of his grief begin to shift. “You know that I love you, right?” He spoke oh so softly. His heart skipped a beat as she nodded slowly, a smile on her lips and her hands taking hold of his.

“I do…And I love you too.” Your words were gentle, just like they always were. “Now come on, Mrs. Behnam dropped off some Halva, and it looks absolutely delicious.” Gently, you urged him to follow you as you tugged on his hands. Miguel chuckled softly before nodding. He didn’t care if what he was doing was wrong, he was here with you, and you were alive and breathing.

He wouldn’t ever let you go again.

The week that followed was the happiest Miguel had been in a very long time. Holding you close to his body in the night, kissing your lips so sweetly, and spending the days with you in the comfort of your apartment. It was paradise.

Although. Miguel had noticed some oddities in the past week…you seemed duller than you should be, with bags under your eyes and exhaustion riddling your face. You looked almost dreadful. He knew It couldn’t be because of his counterpart’s death seeing as you were none the wiser to the fact. But still, he heard muffled sobs escaping the bathroom in the dead of the night when you slipped away from him, he caught the moments you would wipe at your lips after he kissed you, and he found it strange that you seemingly never let him be seen outside of the house. It was strange, he’d admit it, but if it meant he got to be with you, he would conform to whatever you wished from him.

A week. That’s all Miguel would get. One week of happiness and blissful ignorance is all he would get. On the night of the first Sunday he would spend there, he found you standing alone on the balcony of your home, looking out at the city around you as you took in the peaceful night. His eyes were locked on your figure, and immediately he knew something was wrong.

“(Y/n), darling? Are you ok?” Miguel’s voice was barely a whisper as he walked to your side. Slowly, his hand found its place on the small of your back, ever so slowly daring to inch up to your shoulder. You remained silent, only leaning against the iron rod fencing around the area of your balcony as Miguel examined the side of your face. Miguel felt his heart begin to race, and he couldn’t deny that he was consumed with worry as he noticed the smile you normally wore was long gone. As his hand landed on your shoulder, he felt your body shudder, and his eyes widened.

You were crying.

Tears streamed down your face with no remorse, not even daring to spare you the embarrassment of being discovered by Miguel in this state. The brunette man beside you felt his free hand move without hesitation, preparing to place itself on your cheek and wipe away your tears before you flinched away from his touch. His hand faltered, and his heart threatened to stop.

“Stop.” You spoke bitterly, a heart-wrenching glare shooting up at Miguel as his hand pulled back quickly. ‘What?’ His mind took off faster than he could handle, ‘What happened?’ He questioned internally, his heart skipping beats as nerves crept up his body. This past week was paradise for him and you, every minute of every day was spent with him pampering you with the love you deserved. He thought back to every second he’d spent in your presence, trying to figure out what he could have done to upset you. And he kept drawing blanks.

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked oh so gently. His words were hushed, each one delivered with such carefulness it seemed as though he were afraid of hurting you by simply speaking. Your eyes flickered up to his, your heart faltering as you noticed the expression now painted on his face. Miguel looked so lost, his eyes glimmering with fear as he looked down at you steadily, his gaze didn’t falter as you straightened your posture and ran your hands over your flushed cheeks. A soft sigh escaped your lips, and your glare seemed to soften as you noticed the worry painted across his face. Miguel knew you’d seen this worry before, if not on him, on the face of his counterpart. But at this moment, the way you looked at him made his heart skip a beat, the anger in your eyes was entirely new, and you looked at him like he was someone you didn’t know.

“You happened.” You whispered. Your voice was bitter with betrayal, a wave of anger lacing your tone so easily it was almost as though it was natural for you. Miguel felt his eyes widen, taken aback by your comment. He almost stumbled backward, feeling as though he had just been hit by a freight train at full speed. 'He happened? What?' His confusion was evident as he looked at you.

“You’re not my Miguel….” A soft sigh escaped your lips as you reigned in your tears. Miguel felt his heart skip a beat.

You knew.

You figured him out.

Oh god. You knew...

“What?” He asked breathlessly. His hand pulled away from your body as he took a step back. Your eyes scanned him over, bitterness dripping from your gaze as you did.

“My Miguel had a crooked scar on the bridge of his nose and a lopsided smile.” You pointed to Miguel’s face before your hand fell back to your side, “My husband died three weeks ago…he died in my arms…I buried him alone….you are not him.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, pain evident in your tone. Miguel couldn’t even begin to defend himself. What he’d done was horrible. The realization of the pain he must have caused you tore a shaky gasp from his lips as he looked away from you.

“You died in my universe..” He began, only for you to cut him off all too quickly.

“And you died here.” You snapped at him, “But I didn’t steal my dead husband’s multiverse goober and run off to find some grieving Miguel and try to replace myself.” Your argument was valid, but Miguel couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. He knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t want to accept the reality.

“It’s not a goober- it’s a gizmo..” Was all he could respond. You let out a laugh of pure annoyance. His audacity was truly record-breaking.

“That is really not important right now.” You hissed through gritted teeth. Miguel looked back at you, the defeat on his face apparent.

“Sorry.” He murmured. You only rolled your eyes. “Please, (Y/n), You have to understand why I did this…I had a chance to have my wife back-.” He began to try and defend himself, but you quickly shut him down.

“Miguel, I completely understand, but this needs to stop. And it’s going to stop.” Your tone was laced with a wave of sympathetic anger. Of course, you understood why he did what he did, your husband died in your arms, and you were left completely alone..deep down, you knew that you had to bury his multiverse watch with him in order to keep yourself from doing what the Miguel in front of you did. But that didn’t make anything any better. You understood his grief and his loss, but you understood that having him here was chipping away at your heart relentlessly. Miguel prepared to argue against you, but you put your hand up in a silencing motion.

“Miguel, you need to go home.” You began, your hands clasping over your heart, “I can’t keep looking at your face…his face…it’s killing me. Every day I wake up, and I see you lying there next to me, and the only thought in my mind is that you’re not mine…” You fought back the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes again. Miguel might look like your husband, but he never was, and he never will be. You knew you’d never see your husband again, and the man in front of you only made your heart break with every second he spent at your side. Miguel looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed as he realized he'd been caught in his frivolous attempt to return to his life before his wife's death. That grief, the guilt, it was so evident on his face, but even if it made your heart hurt, you couldn't let him stay. Slowly, you turned your attention back to the glimmering city surrounding the two of you.

“Y’know…I left the door unlocked for weeks…waiting for him to walk back in and just tell me it was okay.” You whispered softly, “I watched his body be put in the ground, but I still held out hope…and then you showed up, and I wanted to believe the lie I'd told myself.” Your hands held each other gently, trying to support yourself with every breath you took. Miguel looked down at you, standing by your side after a sigh escaped him. "I wanted to believe that he was back, but this, this is too much...and everything hurts worse knowing that someone I don't know is wearing my husband's face and sleeping in our bed."

“I know how you feel..” He whispered gently, “When you- when she- died, I felt like the last good part of me died with her…I’ve never been more angry with the world.” His confession was weighted, and it was clearly the last thing he wanted to admit as he spoke with obvious hesitation.

“But it didn’t. Miguel, you’re still so good and so loving…You’re just hurting right now.” You argued gently. It took everything in you to be gentle. Truthfully, you wanted to scream, to slap him across the face and let him have it for everything he put you through…But something was stopping you, and you knew exactly what it was. That goddamn face of his. If he looked like anyone else, you’d have no problem giving him your full fury, but that was his face, just missing the scar and the smile. You sighed softly as no response came from the taller man, your head hung low as you rested your forehead in your crossed arms. You’d always been strong, but right now, you just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, right now, you just wanted your husband. Miguel knew it too. Miguel watched as you toppled over, your arms crossed on the iron rod railing and your face hidden as you leaned down. You did that a lot, hiding your face when an emotion became too much for you to handle, he always found it cute. But now, he just felt bad…no, he felt horrible.

“How do I fix it?” He asked softly after a few minutes of silence passed between you two. You looked up at him quickly, your eyes wide with surprise as you heard him speak. “Other than going home, I know I have to do that…” He added before you could say the same thing.

“Well…I guess you go live the rest of your life doing what she would want you to do…Do you think she’d want you to be miserable all the time?” You began slowly, your posture straightened as you looked up at Miguel. The mention of his wife from your lips made him look away, it was obvious that whatever happened to her truly haunted him.

“I feel guilty too, y’know.” You added. His attention snapped to you immediately, his eyes wide before he turned away. “I see it written on your face, you feel guilty about her death… don’t you?” Your eyes locked on the side of his face, your gaze unwavering as you watched him.

“I wasn’t there when she needed me most…” He whispered. His breath was shaky, his hands held to the iron rod fencing in front of him tightly. "She was killed because of me."

“Miguel, even if you were there, nothing would have changed.” You stated the obvious. Miguel knew you were right, he just hated to hear you say it. “I was there when my husband died, and I couldn’t do anything to save him…” your voice grew bitter with grief, and quickly, Miguel’s eyes flickered to yours for a second.

“Do you think about that night a lot?” His question came with a sudden crashing weight on your shoulders. His eyes held your gaze, unwavering and laced with the knowledge of your answer. Of course you thought about that night. How could you not? The image of finding your husband bloodied and bruised on the dark concrete of an alleyway a few miles from your home haunted you.

That night haunted you.

You remembered the feeling of falling to your knees at his side, gently holding him in your arms as sadness immediately flooded you..it always seemed that before you knew what was happening, your heart knew what would come. You remembered the look on his face, how hard he tried to console you, but the fear in his eyes spoke louder than his words, your husband wasn’t a scared man, but for the first time on that night, you saw fear trap him and hold him hostage. You remembered how you begged him to let you call an ambulance and how when you reached for your phone, he stole it from your hands, he knew he would die no matter what, and he wasn’t going to let you waste your last moments with him on the phone with paramedics.

‘No…no, you gotta look at me.’ He would say softly, his blood-soaked hand holding the side of your face gently, ‘I love you. Okay? Don’t you ever forget that- you are the love of my life, and it was an honor to have known and married you.’ His eyes shut tightly as a bolt of pain shot through his body, and your heartbeat quickened to an alarming rate. The fear, the anger, the denial- it was too much. Your husband was dying, and you could do nothing to stop it. There was nothing you could do to save him.

‘Mig…save your strength, let me call them, please…let me help you.’ You begged through consistent tears. Miguel looked up at you sadly, his body growing colder by the minute.

‘You’re so strong, so resilient, and so unbelievably stunning…I wish I had more time to tell you just how much I adore you.’ He smiled up at you, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a love like yours, and I am so thankful that you let me be your husband.’ And with that, his hand fell from your face, a shaky breath escaping his lips. You watched in horror, begging whatever god might be out there for this moment to be a horrible dream. But as Miguel’s chest rose for the last time, you realized no one was coming to wake you up.

“Of course.” You finally answered. Miguel nodded slightly, looking back to the city surrounding the two of you.

“I’m sorry..” he murmured. You shrugged your shoulders, everything sucked, and everything still hurt, but what could you do about it? Miguel seemed to share your silent sentiment as his hand ran through his curly brown hair. The two of you fell silent for a moment before you spoke up, disturbing the already uneasy night.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” You spoke softly, a gentle bitterness lacing your tone. Miguel’s head fell forward in defeat as he buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t know if I can go back.” He mumbled, your eyebrow raised. You knew he could. If he was anything like your husband, you knew he could go back and return to the life he once led, just a little bit more broken than before.

“Well, you have to.” There was a gentle sternness to your voice, “And if you don’t go back to your universe, you can’t stay here. And you can’t go find me anywhere else…It’s cruel and unfair.” You lectured him softly, earning a nod of agreement from the man. He knew what he did was wrong, and it was apparent to you that it was hurting him just as deeply as it was hurting you, now you just needed him to leave…and never return.

“This feels like losing you all over again.” He complained softly, his hands visibly shaking as he lifted his head from his hands. You turned to face him in your entirety, and gently, you took his hands in yours.

“But you’re not losing her. You’re walking away from a version of her that isn’t yours.” You reminded him, earning a soft sigh from the taller man. You knew that your words were harsh, but someone had to say it, and you knew you were the only person he’d listen to. Miguel remained silent for a while, and you could see the war waging in his eyes. The ruby-red eyes that peered down at you were so conflicted, one side set on ignoring your anger and refusing to leave, whereas the other side was wracked with guilt and knew that he had gone too far. Miguel knew which side was right, and as he took in a deep breath, his hands gently squeezed yours.

“I can never apologize for the pain I caused you…I was so blinded by my grief that I ignored the damage I could be doing, and I am forever sorry for that.” He spoke softly as if he were afraid his words would cause you harm if he spoke too loudly. “I’ll return to my universe…Thank you for being so good to me while I was here. It was nice- having my wife back for a while.” Miguel’s voice dropped to nonexistence as he peered deeply into your eyes. You took in every word he spoke, a sympathetic smile forming on your face. He stepped away from you, pressing a few buttons on the watch on his wrist and keeping his eyes locked on yours as a vibrant explosion of colors appeared behind him. His portal home waited expectantly.

“Goodbye, Miguel.” You spoke softly, “It was nice having you back…But I sincerely hope I never see you again.” A pained chuckle left your lips, and Miguel nodded in understanding. He gave you a soft smile before turning over his shoulder, disappearing into the portal that closed behind him seconds later. Slowly, you turned back to the city surrounding your home and took a deep breath of air. Your husband was gone, but a part of you felt relieved knowing that in the multiverse surrounding you, he was still somewhere out there….for better or for worse.

Taglist:

@sobbing-bunny @callsign-blue @tp-spiderflo @simpingfor-wakasa @nerdcorewhore @musicalhistorical

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #astv miguel #astv fanfic #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

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niloerua-writing · 10 months

Text

Vagabond - 1

Summary: The spider team finally has the chance to visit the dreary dimension of New Zohei to find out why anomalies are redirected to that universe and avoid a potential catastrophic event. However, someone else has other plans...

Pairings: Miguel x Black Cat Variant!Reader. Spidersona x Black Cat Variant!Reader

WC: 3.7k

Warnings: monster encounter. fighting and chase scene.

a/n: 2am moment pt2. we struggling out here. i had fun until the end, i was suffering trying to imagine all this. black cat’s claws has an anti-magic charge which is adjacent to mile’s energy bursts. i have an urge to craft super gnarly fight but at the same time do the spicy romance. i hope im doing miguel justice LOL

0 | 1 | 2

1 - Attention

Calan did not show up for an entire week, missing multiple calls from the others. Lyla could barely take snap shots of whatever it was he was doing, and the photos and recordings that came from that were corrupted upon opening. The good thing that came out of it was that the anomalies that were transferred to New Zohei were immediately redirected back to HQ; Calan was at least doing his end of the job. But it wasn’t enough to show any positive trends in keeping the multiverse stable.

When he did return, he explained that one of the Gods was upset and the last thing he wanted was to be moonscorched or banished away from his universe permanently, so he had to tread carefully in his own dimension. Whatever that meant.

Miguel had to see for himself what it was Calan was saying, whenever he said anything at all. Jessica was adamant that whatever he was reporting was true, and she’s no fool to make up lies about the situation at hand. The paradox was frustrating. The one-eyed spider man sat too still, he was slow to answer in contrast to Miguel’s sense of urgency. Peter attempted to “wake” him, whether it be trying to hype up the two words in response to Miguel’s question or allowing Calan to hold Mayday. Surprisingly, holding a child had woken him up somehow as he shook in fear.

“She didn’t take a crap did she?” Peter asked as he took back his child, asking her the same question with a pouty tone. “You didn’t poop in front of him, right?” Of course the baby squealed- using her chubby hands to try and grab Calan, who turned his head away. Peter mumbled something to Jessica about whether or not Calan was okay.

“We’re going to start the mission today now that the anomaly influx is on the lower end.” Miguel said, interrupting the whispers between the other adults.

“Who’s in the team?” Jessica asked.

And in perfect timing, the familiar sound of laughter and shouts filled the office. The four teenagers nearly pounced at the sight of Peter and Calan as they greeted the men; of course they greeted Jessica too (should they come up to her from behind unannounced there would’ve been more than just a lecture coming from her).

“Wait, we’re all going to Calan’s dimension?” Miles asked.

“Oh no, I’ve had enough of that place.” Jessica crossed her arms. “Even when I was there for ten minutes, the atmosphere was off.”

“Can’t go if I can’t bring Mayday. And the wife wants me home more often.” Peter lifted his child up, and the girl immediately leaned over towards Hobie. The punk scooped her up, ruffling her auburn hair.

Miguel rubbed his temple; why is it that everytime he asks for this particular group of spiders, they forget that the entirety of the multiverse is at stake and that this isn’t some sort of friend hangout? He watched as Calan was getting prodded and continually spoken to so casually despite his odd behaviorisms. Calan was hiding something, and going to his dimension was the only way to see how much of the silence he had kept since day one would unravel.

“Ohhh, didn’t know you had a girlfriend too, Calan!” Pavitr looked over Calan’s shoulder when he took out a piece of folded parchment. The teens cowered over the man in great amusement, congratulating him despite Jessica trying to get them to stop.

“Are we finished?” Miguel’s growl prompted the teens to back away and straighten up.

He reiterated the plan to them all: they were to scout New Zohei to find a potential source of why the anomalies are attracted to that dimension, put a stop to it, remove any anomalies along the way, and then leave. Before Miguel could conclude the rundown, he had to test something out.

“How long do you think we could finish?” He directed his question to the one eyed spiderman.

Calan looked up from his folded note, seeing Miguel’s narrowed glare. “Four days, if we’re lucky.”

Miguel raised a brow- that is a lot longer than almost all the missions given in HQ. The teenagers grew louder again, asking Calan to teach them magic or allow them to take souvenirs during their stay. Of course, Peter would join in too, asking for toys for Mayday. Jessica had given up trying to stop them at this point, looking up at Miguel with pursed lips.

“This isn’t a vacation. This is a mission.” Miguel returned his attention to Calan. “What if we’re unlucky?”

Calan narrowed his green eye; Miguel didn’t trust him, and he could tell that the feeling was reciprocated. The only reason why he wasn’t sent home was because of his skill and ease when it came to capturing anomalies. Miguel would make sure to shorten the mission time once they step foot into the other earth. Progress has stagnated as of now. He would make sure that all secrets were off, he was even willing to fight off the Gods that caused another major shift in the multiverse.

“Psst. No fangs.” Lyla popped up on Miguel’s broad shoulder. The lack of an answer made it difficult for his fangs to retract- he had to break eye contact and turn his back on Calan.

Jessica and Peter were sent on other tasks that involved temporarily taking Miguel’s place in overseeing and assisting on other missions during his absence. A whirr of beaming warm colors opened as Miguel opened up the portal. Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie took no time to rush through the portal with excitement, ready for the adventure they were about to have. As soon as Calan was about to step into the portal, he stopped momentarily. Miguel could only see his closed, scarred eye. He could tell that Calan knew what he was planning, he knew that Miguel would join the team, and Calan knew he himself was being investigated. Lastly, Calan could tell that he was being underestimated, and Miguel could see that it personally irked the red head.

“Pray to your god that none of us would stay.” Calan said lowly before stepping into the portal.

Miguel took that as a challenge, letting out a scoff as he went in last. His fangs were still barred.

–

“THIEF!” A cacophonic chorus echoed at the end of the hall. There were endless groans with the sounds of heavy weight being slammed into the walls and ceiling. Amidst the noises and the building threatening to collapse, (Y/n) nearly went on all fours trying to make a turn to another section of the building. Alarms were blaring overhead, with employees being pushed into the stairwell or the elevators in order to avoid the creature that was crawling its way over.

(Y/n) took a quick glance behind her as she ran, noticing three bony claws that gripped into the walls and the carpet. The creatures pacing was slowed by the narrow hallways of the building, however, as soon as it noticed the woman running down the open office space, it began to pick up speed. It tore through the desks and chairs as it screamed, reaching for the fleeing cat.

“I’ll give it back, I promise!” (Y/n) shouted as she aimed for the window. She braced herself as she crashed through the glass, slowly opening her eyes to quickly see if there was an open spot to land.

“Oh no.” She nervously chuckled, realizing how far up she actually was. (Y/n) had hopped off from the twentieth story, so she had to be quick to find something to stagger her fall. The smog from the city’s factories were interlaced with the clouds, making it difficult to see through the lenses of her mask.

(Y/n) had a peculiar artifact in her hand; not that it was important to her personally. She couldn’t care less about what it did, how much it cost, or what it signified to a bunch of elitists. Since the absence of Calan, (Y/n) was struggling trying to keep herself from dying of boredom. Missing him was an understatement. She would occasionally check to see if he finally went home, got stuck at work, or was just hiding in plain sight at his favorite locations. It wouldn’t be too long until she caught herself in a boring routine that would just make her hungry at midnight. (Y/n) had come up with a plan a few days earlier that if she just misplaced certain objects around the city, it would attract him back to quell the havoc she caused. Within good reason, she’d argue.

It was funny seeing prominent witches panic over a missing book, politicians going silent when pieces of their private conversations were leaked, or gangs having their plans jumbled over having their messengers swapped. It was starting to become an eventful week for (Y/n), Calan’s enemies were threatening to tear apart each other’s throats. Of course, this plan didn’t hold up well for today. She had decided to see what was at the top of one of the engineering towers and if it was even worth slipping through heavy security for.

Her curiosity was fulfilled to say the least as she was holding onto a government sanctioned seal to keep a certain someone human. Whoops.

(Y/n) used one of her grappling hooks to attempt to break her fall. The claw of the cable had latched onto one of the tall satellites before tearing through the thin metal. The smog cleared. Her fall trajectory had changed, but she had to accept the fact she might crash through a semi-busy cafe window and use half of the money she got to get patched up. It would definitely teach her not to rile everyone’s day up just for some guy.

However, another option appeared at hand. It was the sound of webs coming her way as she was cutting through the air.

“Spidey!” She exclaimed, seeing shadows zip along the line of buildings across the street. Looks like the plan was back on the menu. If she didn’t try to stagger her fall again, it would be one of the greatest entrances she would have done to date or the worst hospital bill she’d have to pay. (Y/n) found it almost comedic that she prepared herself to be caught in the arms of her favorite man in the middle of her instigation. She was confident he’d catch her. She closed her eyes upon impact.

Right before she could crash into the cafe, she was intercepted. An arm immediately supported her back, and (Y/n) quickly wrapped her arms around his neck to keep herself from slipping, her body pressed against his warm, broad chest.

“Whoa!” Calan’s voice was way too surprised (and higher pitched?) to her liking, he would usually either be relieved or annoyed by her presence, both of which fueled her ego. Opening her eyes, she saw someone in a well decorated skin suit and armlets with his wavy hair out in the open. (Y/n) stiffened, her face growing pale. Who just caught her then?

Looking up, she was met with a masked stranger, the vivid red markings that were marked for his eyes were focused on her.

(Y/n) had overestimated herself. In fact, she’s shit in math when it comes to these things. Her eyes couldn’t stop staring at the masked man who caught her, and it must’ve been the Gods punishing her for racking up the city’s crime rate because he immediately knew who she was with how she felt something hook into her suit to prevent her from escaping. (Y/n) did not like how the plan was turning into. Everything began to click when she noticed the symbols on their suits.

Was Calan being replaced? How could he even be replaced? By two people?

“That was easy.” The smaller one said. What the fuck does that mean?

“Is it okay if I leave now-” It didn’t hurt to try asking.

“No.” Her captor’s voice was gruff, immediately cutting her off. “Pav, regroup with the others.”

Now it was just her and the larger masked man.

“Where are we going?” (Y/n) tried another question.

“To fix your mess.”

“Who said I made a mess?”

“I’m pretty sure you know who, gatita.”

Wow. (Y/n) frowned upon realizing what she was dealing with. First, Calan had disappeared from her for weeks on end, forcing her to take his job to patrol the city when he was gone (without getting paid!), and now, he couldn’t even face her and decided to send in some large man in a weird suit and other people to capture her instead. What was his damage? (Y/n) was not about to be disrespected like this and needed to even the score. She didn’t even think that the man holding her knew the caliber she held when it came to escaping. (Y/n) wouldn’t let the Gods condemn her this way.

“What the-!”

With her free hand, her claws retracted three times its original size before swiping downwards. The fabric of his suit was even stranger as it tore in a way she couldn’t describe, but it did show a bit of his skin. She twisted roughly in his grasp, swiping at the arm that held her. He loosened his grip, and (Y/n) slipped away, tossing the artifact in his hand. Upon landing, she broke into a sprint in the opposite direction.

“Lyla!” Miguel growled from under his mask, and the hologram popped above his watch.

“Uh-oh. How’d that happen?” Lyla adjusted her sunglasses. “I’ll get that fixed real quick.”

“Tell Calan to hurry up with those damn rings, and tell the others that Black Cat is coming towards their locations.” He was quick to maneuver in the other direction, swinging his way above the night traffic. He saw her scale up a building and onto the roof tops, and he followed suit. Miguel was slowly catching up to her. He shot his webbing towards her legs, however, Black Cat had rolled forward, the webs narrowly missing her heels. She jumped into an alley, running out the other end before using a grappling hook to swing away. Miguel growled at his escaping prey.

Just about half an hour ago, Calan had given a rundown of the do’s and don’ts of this earth in his office. Don’t go past the walls of the state, don’t touch broken shrines, don’t make any pacts with anyone living here, and don’t remove the mark on their hands. The only “do” that Miguel assumed was to do the mission. Fair. It was the most he had ever spoken since he joined the Spider Society. Calan was going to make rings that would help the others be resistant to magic during their stay, despite the teenagers wanting to focus more on learning said magic.

“I have a problem, and it may require several of you.” Calan laid out five rings, a thick book, and a needle.

“What is it?” The teens would ask, and he would put down the note from earlier.

“Black Cat.” Calan replied. “She’ll sabotage the mission if certain things aren’t in her favor. She already put the city under paranoia.”

Calan pointed at the treasure chest that was destroyed by her; he had repaired it upon return and used the key to actually hide away important documents under some sort of illusion trick. Black Cat was a rare variant only appearing very few times in other spider people’s canon, Miguel thought. He didn’t have a Black Cat in his universe. It was because, according to the reports he’s read, Black Cats were more complicated allies, when given something in return. He looked at the letter, noticing the red lipstick marking on the corner of the paper. They were complicated indeed.

“We can multitask while you finish that.” Miguel suggested to Calan, who went to work straight away. He then turned to the others. “You know how it is and how it’s going to be. The only thing added is capturing a Black Cat.”

And they went off. Miguel would receive a few notifications from the teens that they’ve captured and turned in an anomaly. Things were going swimmingly.

When Miguel had caught Black Cat in the middle of his patrol with Pavitr, he was just as shocked as the woman in his arm. He had seen pictures of other Black Cats. But there was something about seeing one and even holding one up close. She had vivid (e/c) eyes that stuck out from her (skin color) complexion, wild (h/c) hair that draped over her eyes and flowed along the evening air. Her lips were a striking red with gloss, and from her figure-

“Miguel! There’s this freaky bird thing with a hundred heads!” Miles’ panicked voice through his watch shattered the thought. He looked at the object in his hand- it was a copper shard with unrecognizable lettering plastered all over the metal. Black Cat was just out of reach, how she ran with heels was a mystery to him. He narrowed his eyes, noticing the echo of screams down the road.

He could see Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie trying to hold back a large, feathered mass covered in countless porcelain masks that let out pulses of screams. Its multiple elongated arms tried to grab at the teenagers while destroying a portion of the infrastructure.

He slid to a stop, giving one last look at the Black Cat. She stopped as well, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“I won’t let you go next time.” He warned her before rushing over to the monstrous calamity.

The monster wailed further, slamming all thirteen of its arms down in frustration when it couldn’t catch any of the spider people that swung around it. It winced at every punch and kick it received from the four teenagers, but it only grew angrier, screeching. Several of its claws began to frantically dig through its feathered and porcelain body. Ooze began to spill out from the wound it created.

“What the hell did we just get ourselves into!?” Gwen screamed, covering her nose over her mask.

“Man’s bleedin’ out all the establishment slop outta ‘im!” Hobie positioned his guitar in his hands, letting out a powered strum. The monster momentarily froze before shaking violently. Something was growing out of its wound, and no one wanted to figure out what it was.

“Miguel!” Miles was busy pulling out all the civilians from the rubble alongside Pavitr. The man was quick to rush towards the ungodly beast, tightening his fist before plunging his attack right through one of the porcelain faces. It shattered, revealing a fleshy substance underneath. The monster let out a broken chorus as it felt the pain, thrashing itself into the ground and towards other buildings. Miguel began to shoot out multiple webbings of red to restrain its arms, and Gwen and Hobie followed his lead, pinning down the monster.

Now what was left was the artifact the Black Cat tossed at him.

Before Miguel could figure it out, a pair of wings shot out of the monster’s gash, sending the three flying several blocks away. Miguel quickly got up from the crushed concrete already prepared to rush at the monster again- only to have Gwen struggle to keep herself up from the impact. Hobie, on the other hand, tried to hide his limp.

“I’ve got this!” Calan had found them, quickly removing his gloves. Miguel urged Miles and Pavitr to come over to where he was. They all watched as Calan’s hands began to glow, a summoning circle appearing just at the tip of his fingers. Using his eye for focus, he positioned his hands to where the monster contorted violently. Calan curled his fingers, almost mimicking a spider’s chelicerae and its mouth.

As soon as Calan closed his fists, a red spider emerged from the shadow under the monster, ripping its body into two with its mouth before returning into the darkness.

“Damn.” Hobie and Pavitr’s mouths were agape, whereas Gwen had to immediately cover her eyes.

“That is so cool,” Miles huffed. “But I think I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

That must have been the Arachne Pact, Miguel could see how much that single spell drained Calan.

“I finished,” The one eyed spiderman handed Miguel the bag of rings, and in turn he was given the copper shard. His brows furrowed in disbelief. “(Y/n), how’d you get your hands on this?”

“Is that her name?” Miguel asked as he handed out the rings to the others.

“Shit. Sorry,” Calan began to cough. “But yeah. She’s probably really mad at me.”

Calan slid down from the debris, walking over to the monster’s corpse. Soon enough, the corpse began to disintegrate until all that was left was a man’s body. First responders and clean up crew began to approach the scene as the dust began to settle, and the group stood at the rooftop in silence, their masks being wearily pulled away for the time being.

“I was expecting something to happen, I’m not gonna lie.” Pavitr sounded disappointed as he removed and put on his ring a few times.

“Seals and barriers don’t work that way.” Calan replied, his eyes wandering off. “I’m guessing you couldn’t catch her, Miguel.”

“I let her go.” He corrected him.

“That’s normal.”

Miguel followed Calan’s line of sight into the darkness, wondering what it was he was staring at. When he found nothing of interest, he looked the other way, briefly watching the teens sit together as they tried to cheer each other up. Is this how it’s going to be for the next three days? This sort of explains some of Calan’s odd behaviors.

There was another pair of eyes that watched him. Miguel turned his head, seeing the Black cat across the street, staring at all of them from the ledge of an apartment rooftop. She dared not to move so suddenly, her eyes fixated on Calan before moving towards the teenagers, and finally Miguel. She could see who he was.

And soon, he would see who she is.

#vagabond fic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #spiderman atsv #miguel x you #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #fem reader #atsv #atsv spoilers #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #miles morales #gwen stacy #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

Happy multiverse Monday :) Could I request something where the reader is dating Steve and finds out that he’s Spider-Man?

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

His eyes are swimming with concern, a look you've only ever seen once on him, when you'd slipped on some icy stairs. You'd been fine, but the look had lingered, and you hope it doesn't now.

"I'm sorry I lied for so long," His voice is ridden with guilt, something you wish he wasn't plagued with, "I just- I really wanted to keep you safe, but then.. I kind of realized that this is my life, now. It's not going away, or-" He waves a webbed, red glove around, "Or getting better, it just is. And I want you to be a part of my life. I didn't want you to think I was.. I dunno," He sighs, sickened at the thought, "Like, messing around with.. someone else."

"I understand," You hum softly, and you really do. Somewhere on the street below you a car honks, loud and long and angry, but it's drowned out among your inner thoughts.

"I'm not," Steve's eyes are anxious now, and you're quick to reassure him.

"Really, Steve," You insist, grabbing his hands and squeezing, "I know you're not. This is just.. big."

"Yeah." He sighs miserably, hoping you'll leave his hands in yours for longer, "It's big."

You sit in a dreary silence on the rooftop, a sticky patch just left of your knee. Your fingers itch to touch it, to give you something, anything to do other than wait for Steve to speak again, but you don't for fear of contracting some strange disease.

"Are you.. mad?" He finally pipes up, and you don't have to turn to know that his eyes are on you, shining with fear.

"No," You shake your head, the only lights in your eyes the ones of the city, "I'm scared, though."

"Of?"

"Of you not coming back." Your voice peters out to a whisper and Steve swallows, the sound just barely audible.

"I've always come back so far," He tries consoling you, but knows it won't work, "I.. I'll be careful, angel, I promise."

"You'd better," You sniffle tearily, shoving down any tears that threaten to escape and ruin the moment, "I need you to reach the cups on the top shelf."

He chuckles, though you think you hear a hint of sadness in it. He wants to promise you he'll come back every night, he really does, but you know he can't. You don't hold it against him, but it unnerves you, and he knows it does.

You both know the problem, but neither of you know how to fix it.

You start with a joke: "So all your hair really fits under that mask?"

This time his laugh is genuine, "Uh, yes. That's really what you wanna know?"

"I've always wondered if you wear a wig," You muse thoughtfully, finally looking over at Steve. It's a complete lie, because you've showered with him before, and his hair comes down around his face in a curtain when there's no product in it. He looks like he has a pot-cut, even worse than a bowl-cut, and you tease him relentlessly for it.

"'Swear it's all mine," He runs a hand through his hair, trailing off at the end of his sentence. The somber mood is back, and you reach for one of his gloved hands.

"Steve," You start, voice unusually downtrodden, "Will you at least promise me you'll try to come back every night?"

"I promise." He doesn't skip a beat, determination now recoloring the dull sadness in his pretty brown eyes, "That I can do, angel."

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imtrashraccoon · 2 months

Text

Writing Patterns/First 10 Lines Tag Game

I discovered @emeraldhazeart 's post on this but I'm afraid I don't know who started this game. It looked fun though so I spent like an hour digging up old links and writing this out lol

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I didn't realize I'd actually posted ten but here we go! Order is from oldest to newest and only includes the Undertale works I've posted on the internet.

Siren Call 2017 (Classic Timeline feat. my first Undertale OC. Currently abandoned but I have started to rewrite it.)

A catchy tune resonated from the speakers all over the grocery store.

The Hand We've Been Dealt 2019 on Quotev or 2023 on AO3 (Underfell Timeline feat. another OC. Still in progress.)

The sunset certainly was beautiful from up here.

Crazy & Cold 2023 (A Horrortale oneshot ten years post-surfacing.)

Most people probably would've called you crazy.

Nomadic Love 2023 (A post-Echotale oneshot.)

The sun glinted off the clear ocean waves as they lapped at the sandy shoreline before receding back into their bed.

THWBD: Rihanna Lives 2023 (Alternate timeline of The Hand We've Been Dealt.)

You walked carefully through the snow, cringing slightly from the loud crunching sound it made, interrupting the otherwise quiet winter morning.

The Nightmare of Apathy 2023 (An Undertale multiverse fic in progress.)

"Don't forget to refuel your lantern before you leave!"

Nightmare Cuddles 2023 (A semi-canon oneshot for The Nightmare of Apathy.)

The soft pitter patter of rain on the bay window had lulled you into a deep slumber hours ago but now had picked up into a torrential storm.

Have Some Empathy, Dear 2024 (An Undertale multiverse fic.)

It was a dreary day today, yet despite the overcast sky and brisk breeze that often whipped snow into your face, it was the nicest it had been in days.

The Shopping List 2024 (A Classic Timeline oneshot feat. Papyrus.)

With a heavy sigh, you shut your locker and locked it with the combination lock.

A Gentle Soldier 2024 (An Undertale multiverse oneshot.)

You were simple person, just doing what you could to get by in the world.

Conclusion: I am a very descriptive/visual writer and most of the time I start out my stories with describing where the characters are or what's going on. There are a few outliers of course but I generally go for this route and apparently have the entire time I've been writing Undertale fanfiction. I think there's always places I could improve of course but I can see that I have gotten better, even in the last couple of months.

#raccoons rambles #undertale #writeblr #it's kind of interesting how similar these are yet how there are subtle differences #there is a large gap between my first and second but i can assure you that i was still writing!#just...none of it really went anywhere #i definitely won't be posting any if most of it #it's all based on OC's i had anyways #maybe i'm weird but i don't think most people would like them #that's why i really only write reader inserts now

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rarepair-haven · 1 year

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your post about drinkberror and how they could all relate to having a changed body-

hear me out. nightmare and blueberror. all the greatness of blue/nightmare, but better and just like drinkberror, they both totally get not recognising themselves anymore and they can bond over trauma and like cmon its fabulous

It’s my absolute belief that blue would take one look at nightmare and go “oh absolutely Not” and just do a full rehaul of the man’s life. Dreary castle in the middle of nowhere? You now have a summer home in a neutral au to get some socializing in. Constantly collecting the freaks of the multiverse to build your little army? Teehee would be a shame if the multiversal war was now settled in a peace treaty, guess your army is now just your roommates.

With blueberror it has the added level of “look we both got our forms screwed over by some dude, twinsies” and the added power allows blue to go toe to toe with mr “king of negativity” over here. Blue would kick him off his high horse and Nightmare would dream of kissing him under the moonlight ever since

#nightberry #mod classic #ask

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strikedenko · 8 months

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The Two Nikos

Chapter 1: From The Outside

Summary: Trying to fight sleeplessness due to a thunderstorm, Niko finds themself the operator of a different World Machine, thus the god of a new messiah. That new messiah, was Niko.

(story under cut)

It was a very stormy night. Loud thunderous claps accompanied the heavy relentless downpour and ensured Niko's restless state. It was well past their bedtime, yet they hadn't slept a wink. They'd usually been able to handle these circumstances, but not tonight it seemed.

The cat-person had taken their daily nap much later than usual, delaying dinnertime by at least an hour, closer to the day's end. Thus, Niko's body was both full and well-rested, further inhibiting their ability to sleep anytime soon.

THOOM. The thunder continued to roar outside, sending a harsh shiver down Niko's spine. A yawn escaped their quivering lips, before Niko sat up and removed the blanket keeping them safe. Off to the Multiverse Machine, they suppose.

Though, mama had explicitly restricted traveling into cyberspace for tonight, fearful that the storm would knock the power out and trap Niko within. She had every right to be concerned, considering it happened before.

...They'd yet to tell her that the World Machine didn't need a computer to return them to the physical world, but how could they even find the right words? As much as they've learned from Cameron, the village IT guy, and the nerd, it seemed nigh impossible to explain.

Besides, they'll have Rekka, their data-borne second mama (or "mumma" going by her accent). Things'll be just fine!

Niko made sure to take silent steps, tip-toeing to the box-like monitor and pressing the big power button on the tower. The screen's brightness took them by surprise, and the high-pitched hum from the CRT seemed louder than they would've liked. Luckily, everything else seemed undisturbed by the booting computer.

...Oh no, the boot sound-

In the nick of time, Niko was able to mute the speakers to keep the loud boot effect from sounding off. They're brought to the user select screen, four options listed with icons selected from a default list. A photo of a sunflower was next to meemaw's login, followed by a soccer ball for mama's, a stack of delicious pancakes for Niko, and a gray silhouette for potential guests.

Niko clicks on the pancakes, bringing them straight to the desktop with a solid teal backdrop. They scoured the various application icons, searching for the light blue cube that was the gateway into the multiverse-spanning cyberverse.

Instead, however, they discover an icon that seemed almost familiar. A yellow upright lightbulb. Curiosity gets the better of them, and they double click on the strange application.

"..."

Niko couldn't help but pause, gazing upon the new window that had opened. Blocky text across the top read OneShot, with that spherical lightbulb in place of the first letter. Two options displayed on the right side of the window, vertically sorted with a noticeable gap in between: Start and Quit.

The one part Niko couldn't quite grasp was the person looking off into the distance.

It was Niko.

After a few minutes processing the sight, Niko clicked the mouse on Start.

...

Enter?

That appeared to work. Judging by how the mouse pointer disappeared hovering into the window, they guessed the keyboard was going to be the primary control method.

The window captured this other Niko waking into the program, before zooming out to a top-down perspective of a dreary bedroom with a desk, bookshelf, and a slightly lit window.

"Oh... Oh no..."

Memories of their journey within the World Machine flooded Niko's mind as soon as they noticed a gray desktop computer sitting atop the desk next to the bed.

Cedric had explained long ago that Cameron held no real power over the world, at least at the time, their role as god was only due to them being able to 'generate' the world, whatever that meant.

With that in mind, did Niko...

Did they just become god?

. . .

>"H-hello?" The Niko trapped within the world spoke out.

Right, the guide should probably get to guiding-

Niko presses enter a couple times, prompting them to walk out of bed and to the computer. Interacting with it brought up a password screen, four digits. Though, none of them seemed to be color-coded like in their memories...

Niko goes ahead and hits enter, resulting in an incorrect answer. They figured as much, the remote control hadn't been found yet. It wasn't long before it was, in a suspicious lump under the carpet.

...Okay, how do they get to their pockets? Niko begins randomly pressing keys, hoping to randomly find it. Thankfully, they found it fairly swiftly, bringing up an odd menu with a few selectable options: Items, Equipment, Notes, and Quit. Niko presses enter, selecting Items.

The only item they had at the moment was the remote control. Niko selects it, making the other Niko take it out, and interacts with the window.

>'In the faint light Niko can glimpse the face of the remote... All of the numbers except 5, 2, 9, and 1 are missing. They're marked in bright colors'

...Why are they colored if the password screen didn't seem to color-code?

Well, regardless, Niko moves away from the window and to the computer once more to input the passcode. 5291.

>'Access Granted.'

It booted into a screen that looked remarkably similar to the desktop surrounding the window. System messages appeared in the center, one after another. Though the exact wording was different, the Niko acting as god felt it very familiar.

...At least, until the message continued further.

Quitting was permanent failure and murder.

They suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

The door unlocked behind the other Niko, prompting them to investigate the rest of the house.

>"Helloooo? ...anyone?"

The first thing Niko did was head to the fridge to grab a bottle of alcohol, before backtracking to the bedroom's lavatory to take a stick off the withered plant, just like how they remember.

Niko navigates through the menu to try and find a crafting option, though to no avail. That is, until they select the bottle of alcohol whilst already having the dry branch equipped.

>'Niko dips the branch into the alcohol.'

With the crafting system seemingly sorted, Niko heads back out to the broken TV and interacts with it while holding the wet branch, setting it alight! They use it to light up the fireplace, revealing a glimmering shine in the ground. Upon investigation, Niko finds it to be the basement key.

They use it to gain access to the basement, before walking down a flight of steps and passing through another door, winding up in front of...

The lightbulb. The sun.

The messiah's burden.

At first, Niko was hesitant to pick it up, knowing the oncoming struggles awaiting the poor Niko ripped from another world to save this suffering one.

Though, it was impossible to progress without it. Swallowing down their nervousness, Niko approaches the bulb and interacts with it.

Everything lit up around them as the sun flared to life and bound itself to the young messiah. There was no turning back now.

Selecting the sun from the Items menu, Niko approached the leftmost doorway and inserted the sun into the bulb-shaped keyhole, transporting them into the Barrens following a pixelated transition. Exiting the train car gave both of them a view of the far-reaching tower, before giving them the freedom to move once more.

A pair of boots sat to the left, which Niko picks up and puts on. They appeared to be running boots, allowing them to move through the world at a faster pace. Wasting little time, Niko rushes down and to the right to meet up with Prophetbot in front of the outpost and get the lay of the land.

>"Ah! That lightbulb...! You're here!"

Niko allowed the two to converse before the robot began accepting questions, though it seemed they could only choose out of four options. Niko read through the other three, about the world, the lightbulb, and going home, before selecting the final one.

"...The computer?"

>"In the house, I found a computer talking to me, though also talking... about me."

>"Oh, might your name be Niko?"

>"...Yes?"

>"That is also the traditional name of our god. Perhaps it was fate!"

Maybe it was...

Niko proceeds to close their eyes to communicate with the one outside, in reality.

>"Hello? Niko? Is that really your name?"

Niko was presented with a yes or no prompt. They hovered over yes, though something caught their attention out of the corner of their eye. The disk tray was outlined with a purple glow, somehow... urging Niko to press it.

Curiosity gets the better of them once more. The moment the fine fur coating the tip of their finger reached the tray, they were suddenly subject to digitization, like they were being transported to the Multiverse Machine.

Niko silently screamed, still not wanting to wake mama from her deep slumber. By the time they realized this called for such noise, it was too late. They'd been sucked into a dying world once more.

"...God? Are you there?"

The other Niko's voice moved through the ears of their hat and caused them to perk. The voice was distinct, yet uncannily familiar. One might've thought they've since gotten used to hearing their own voice coming from other versions of themself, but the simple truth was they still hadn't-

Hesitation forced a few more seconds of delay before an answer could be given.

"Yes..."

The messiah opened their eyes to confirm to Prophetbot, though they immediately got startled from the mirror-like sight. Luckily, they instinctively hugged the sun close so as to not drop it.

"You're..."

"...me. I know."

Niko breathed a sigh. Prophetbot watched the situation play out, undisturbed from the sudden appearance of the nearly identical cat-person. "Please look to them for guidance." Though, the messiah was no longer paying attention.

"You're... god?"

Despite filling the role as such, the Niko from reality didn't really feel comfortable being referred to as such. Call it foreknowledge, but they weren't a fan.

"It's... complicated. Call me your guide."

The messiah remained very confused, though briefly shrugged it off and turned back to Prophetbot.

"So... that's them?"

"I apologize Messiah, but I do not recognize them," the robot responded, increasing their confusion. Niko rested a hand on their shoulder.

"Prophetbot probably won't recognize or talk to me, it's not worth trying." They could think of the reason why, though they didn't wish to generate panic in the messiah, especially so early.

"O-oh..." The messiah shut their eyes, letting out a subtle disgruntled whine.

"Everything'll be fine, okay?"

"I wish you luck," Prophetbot bid farewell, before waving them off. The messiah, to be specific. It seemed the robot never even acknowledged the other Niko's presence other than that single instance.

"Well, messiah, we should get going. The world isn't going to save itself!" Niko cracked in an attempt to raise the mood. The messiah let out a silent giggle, though they could tell that they weren't super thrilled.

After some hesitation, Niko walks into the outpost, ushering the messiah to come along. Reluctantly, they head inside as well.

The outpost was very different from how Niko remembered it during their time in the world. Other than Prophetbot, it seemed the settlement was devoid of any robots, even ones that were depowered. Quite unsettling...

The two of them looked around the room, Niko keeping close to the messiah. They manage to obtain a screwdriver and discover the box holding the battery, though they had no way of prying the lid off. They needed the crowbar to do that.

"Check areas thoroughly, alright?"

"O-okay.."

They enter a nearby train car, dysfunctional like mostly everything else. "A-ha! A metal rod!" Niko speedwalked over and picked it up, briefly looking it over before offering it to the messiah, who was still holding the sun.

They... very much misunderstood the gesture-

"N-Niko, I'm not going to smash the sun!" They slightly backed away, nearly into one of the holes littering the floor of the car, prompting Niko to drop the rod and catch them before they could fall backwards.

"Careful, me! I was giving it to you to hold onto."

The messiah, still recovering from the near catastrophe, motioned towards the sun in their arms. "My hands are full, though..." Right... Niko withdrew the offer, putting the metal rod in their own coat for later.

"That's not where I remember finding it, though..." They mused. "This place really is different..."

Seems the messiah overheard, though. As they walked back outside and further towards the right, they asked about it. "You've done this before?"

"Yup! Different world, though."

The messiah tilted their head in confusion. "But... aren't you the god of this world?"

"Please don't refer to me as god. It's... complicated, I'll explain later." Such an explanation would involve having to reveal that the world was merely a simulation, and now was not the time.

"Oh, okay..." the messiah sighed.

Moving further, they discovered a sponge sitting at the edge of a cliff. A strange place to leave it, Niko thought.

"...What's it doing here?" It sounded like the messiah agreed.

"I'm not sure, but we should take it. We'll need it for later." The messiah nodded, carefully picking it up while ensuring no harm came to the large lightbulb.

"It has a rough surface," they commented.

In the distance, Niko took notice of a large jelly-like bubble forming atop one of the shrimp pools, pointing it out to the messiah.

"We'll need that later as well, take a mental note. C'mon."

Niko led them around the curve among the shrimp pools, now heading up towards the dormitories in the distance. To the former messiah's surprise, it wasn't blocked by a vent zone.

"Odd..." There were things to do, though. Niko couldn't get hung up on the differences between this world and the world they had explored over a year ago.

The wall of sleeping areas seemed much smaller, albeit just as abandoned. A pair of rubber gloves sat at the base of some machinery. The messiah took a closer look, trying to discern their purposes. Mineral refinery, solar panel...

"Garbage compactor. Specifically designed for heavy-duty crushing of metals," They read from the rightmost machine. The mention of 'metals' in particular piqued the other Niko's interest.

"Say, we could use that to turn this into a crowbar to open that box!" They exclaimed, bringing out the metal rod. "Stand back, this is dangerous."

Niko cautiously sticks an end of the bar into the machine and activates it.

CRUSH. CRUSH.

It gets compressed twice before Niko turns off the machine and takes out the newly formed crowbar. The messiah pockets the pair of gloves while Niko puts away the crowbar. "C'mon."

The messiah looked on, puzzled. "We've got the box to uncover, though."

"We've gotta get one last thing before opening it. It'll speed up the process."

Plus, it'll be nice to see Silver again. The messiah follows their other self to the cliffs. Neither are big fans of heights, but the ground was at least stable enough to soothe their concerns.

"Hey, what's that over there?" The messiah inquired. Niko glanced over to see a familiar electronic safe, where they'd obtained the gas mask to go through the vent zones previously. It had required a code that was all but lost from the world, so Niko expected a similar situation.

There was the issue of the code being somewhere only the operator could access, though they'd cross that bridge when they get there. Hopefully this World Machine recognized that its operator was inside the world itself.

"That's for later. C'mon."

The pair eventually find themselves on wider ground approaching a settlement familiar to the former messiah.

"That's our stop, the Head Engineer."

The two entered through the open doorway and stood before Silver. She looked smaller than Niko remembered-

"The lightbulb... Are you two the messiahs?"

The sun-bearer spoke first, "Well, not really-" before the former messiah interrupted. "Yes we are, actually!"

Silver looked mildly surprised. "Two messiahs? I can't imagine..." She briefly shut her eyes, sighing. "You two look so alike, with those catlike eyes and whiskers."

"I'm not a cat!" the two Nikos exclaimed in unison, prompting them to pause and briefly giggle.

"Fine, fine. Personally, you might be better off leaving and just letting the world die naturally. It's literally falling apart, y'know?"

Niko heaved a sigh, before approaching the tamed robot. "We're not gonna sit aside idle and watch it burn. We were sent to this world to save it, and by golly we're going to!"

Silver was visibly taken aback by the cat-person's admirable statement. "Well, who am I to stop you? It's not like you can just leave. Well, the very top of the spire holds some incomprehensible power. Who knows, it might send you home after your journey is complete."

"Oh!" That spark of hope rekindled the messiah's motivation.

...

The former messiah though was... not as thrilled. They remembered the choice that they would eventually have to make, and... it scared them. It was a hard choice even with Cameron's input, but now Cameron wasn't even here.

"Are you okay?" Silver asked, having noticed Niko's less enthusiastic expression.

"A-ah, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Niko replied, trying to smile and dismiss the negative anticipation. Despite that, the messiah took notice of their apprehension, though chose not to question it right away. The two bid farewell to Silver and head back out and further to the left.

There was a collection of busted robots beyond repair on a strip of land just next to Silver's home. Sitting in the middle was a broken camera, though the lens seemed fine enough for them to use.

"Screwdriver, please?" Niko asked of the messiah, who briefly set the sun down against a robot to fish the screwdriver out of their coat, before handing it to the other cat-person.

"Thank you." Niko then used it to wiggle the lens free and discard the rest of the device off the edge and into the abyss below.

"H-hey! We might've needed that," the messiah objects, to which Niko simply shakes their head. "We won't. Not until the Refuge anyways, and this camera's already busted." They then put the lens in the messiah's coat pocket.

"We've got everything, let's head back."

Reclaiming the sun, the two Nikos embark back to the outpost for the box containing the broken battery. It wasn't a short walk, so the messiah took the opportunity to ask the question that's been bugging them since leaving Silver's place.

"...Am I not gonna be able to return home?"

Hearing the foreboding question, Niko stopped and silently sighed, upset. They didn't want to tell them the truth, though it was impossible not to. It was another version of them, for crying out loud!

Following entire seconds of suspense, they turned back to the messiah and spoke with a warm smile. "You will."

The messiah wasn't sure they liked the preceding hesitation, though. They glance down to the sun they bore, sighing. "I..."

"I promise," Niko reassured. They'd find a way to save the world and get the messiah home if it's the last thing they do.

#ao3 #oneshot game #story #denko.arts

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ralexsol · 2 months

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HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. I JUST WATCHED THE YELLOW SUBMARINE MOVIE. ONE OF MY NEW FAVORITE MOVIES EVER?????? OMGGGGG THEY PICKED ONLY GOOD SONGS AND THE STORY WAS SO FUN AND THERE WERE SO MANY HILARIOUS JOKES AND MOST OF ALL. MOST OF ALL THE FUCKING ANIMATION??????????? they use collage and the regular art style too is soooooo fun and fluid and wacky and i LOVE IT SO MUCH. it kinda reminds me of boy & the world!!

BUT YEAH!!!! THE BEGINNING OF THAT MOVIE I WAS JUST ENTRANCED IT WAS SOOOO FUCKING COOL LIKE... the whole introduction part where you learn about pepperland and see the vibrancy of everything and then the blue meanies show up and it's just so cool!! AND THE INTRO CREDITS. WHEN IT ROLLED UP TO THAT POINT I WAS LIKE OOOH PLEASE GIMME COOL TRANSITION W INTRO CREDITS AND IT LITERALLY GAVE ME EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED. and then ICONICALLY playing eleanor rigby over dreary collage to create the liverpool environment... GOES INSANE.

I LOVE ART IN ALL MEDIUMS AND THIS MOVIE WAS THAT. NOBODY DID IT LIKE THE BEATLES. CAN YOU IMAGINE NOWADAYS IF LIKE A RLY POPULAR BAND RELEASED SOMETHING LIKE THIS????? the world needs more stuff like this. like spiderverse is kinda doing it but idk yellow submarine feels much more free and lightweight, they do whatever they want and are not restricted by a super complicated multiverse plot. GOES INSANEEEEEEEE.

#the beatles #yellow submarine #whatsupray?

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yuus-sentient-teddy · 1 year

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((I had this is in the works before we got news of the Savanaclaw chapter for the manga. Now is probably a good time to post this.))

No spoilers for JP and EN players!

NRC is up against the second-to-last big bad (though they don't know that) and the battle is getting progressively worse. Magical projectiles have begun randomly appearing out of thin air and it's sometimes difficult to communicate with someone within shouting distance.

Unfortunately, that makes it easy for anyone to miss a warning yell, and Yuu happens to be that unlucky individual.

A fireball is sailing towards him from behind. One of the upperclassmen is trying to charge enough magic to put up a barrier for Yuu, but he knows deep down that he wasn't going to make it in time.

Yuu is in the middle of turning around. The fireball is beginning to be a broomstick's length away--

--but it disperses before it can.

Someone has appeared in front of Yuu, wearing an NRC uniform and holding an ornate shield up protectively. When the savior looks over their shoulder, Yuu is startled at the lack of pupils. "You okay?" they ask. There is something familiar about the voice. Actually, something about the savior is familiar, but Yuu has never seen them before.

"Y-yeah."

Around the two of them, a mysterious person appears out of thin air next to each of Yuu's classmates. Some stand in the way of danger or whisper to his classmate and point at something, and others are helping the classmate to his feet or treating a wound. All of them are pupilless and wearing an NRC uniform, and Yuu gets that confusing feeling of familiarity just from looking at them.

Finally, the battle is over. The pupilless helpers start to gather together away from the students, though some linger to help with healing. "Thanks for helping us," Yuu says to their savior. "But who are you all?"

Looks are exchanged among the pupilless. "Have you heard of the multiverse theory?" the shield-wielder asks.

The same universe, numerous timelines, similar chain of events. The variable that made all of the timelines different: who played the role of "Yuu".

"You're all different versions of me?" Yuu inquires, trying to wrap their head around the explanation.

"Not exactly. We're people who were in your place: the magicless student--" Someone in the crowd coughs. The shield-wielder apologizes and corrects themself. "I mean, the student who comes from another world and who becomes part of NRC's community."

". . . I don't want to be rude, but why are your eyes white?"

"Can I make a guess that you're all dead?"

"Idia!"

"Actually, he's right," a pupilless helper chimes in, then shrugs his shoulders. "We never made it out alive in our timelines."

A chill spreads throughout the student body. "A-are you serious?" Idia's eyes are wide. "Ghosts don't look like humans with no irises. That's only in fanart!"

"What happened to you all?" Yuu asks.

Someone pats their shoulder in a friendly manner, which gets their attention. "It's nothing you need to worry about. You got this far, so anything we say won't be helpful," they say, giving a small smile despite the dreary words.

"Hey, guys, time's almost up." A ghost holds up her pocket watch.

The ghosts start heading towards pristine white double doors that were never there before. "Hang on, why did you all come here?" Grim pipes up. "Did you come here because. . . because. . ." He can't bring himself to say it. The fireball had been so close to hitting Yuu.

Another feminine ghost stops. "It was to make sure you and everyone here actually made it through that battle." They give a comforting smile. "I know you and Yuu and everyone have a lot of questions, but don't worry too, too much. Yuu, stay persistent and keep doing what you're doing. We'll come back if we need to." Yuu nods.

The ghosts are near the door, but someone in the back stops. They suddenly turn around and briskly make their way to the dorm leader of Scarabia. "Kalim, I know you don't know me and might be freaked out by all of this, but. . . could I hug you?"

Kalim gives a small smile and opens his arms. "Sure! You helped us after--" He wasn't expecting the ghost to almost tackle him, but they held him firmly and closely. After recovering from his shock, he hugs the ghost and rubs their back. This hug reminds him of his parents' embrace after he returned home for summer vacation, finishing his first year at NRC. They were so glad he was safe.

Suddenly, the ghost sobs. "I missed you."

Kalim tenses and something in his heart aches.

A ghost approaches Sebek. "This will probably confuse you, but I just want to tell you that we miss talking with you about books and fairy tales."

In minutes, the students are talking to the ghost that helped them, verbally and non-verbally.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Hey, squeeze me. I want to see if you can squeeze as hard as my Floyd."

"Can you tell me about the mushroom you found in the cave again?"

"You were one of the most tolerable people in that hellscape."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you that as soon as I left the dorm, but I died before I could. I'm sorry."

"Hey, Tsunotarou, I just want to let you know that half of us here, in our own timeline, had been friends with you. And even if we weren't there, you weren't alone, Tsunotarou."

"You know, back in my timeline, Vorpal liked me better."

When Kalim pulled away, he could have sworn the ghost he was hugging had green eyes. But after they hastily wiped away their tears and he wiped his, their eyes were just as they had been before.

Farewells were exchanged and banters were concluded. Something ached deeply in the students' chest as they watched the ghosts pass the pristine double doors. They never met them before, but they didn't like seeing them go.

(What would your Yuu/MC say to the NRC boi they cared about?)

#some angst some comfort #yuu/mc (twisted wonderland)#grim (twisted wonderland)#kalim al asim #briefly: sebek zigvolt #night raven college #briefly: malleus draconia #briefly: idia shroud #🧸🖊writing

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