AN: Like most of my recent works, this kinda escalated. This was supposed to be crack but, ehhhh.
An AU with an OC you did not expect. Well, nah, I'm pretty sure the kind of stuff I like to write is kinda obvious now for the ones who follow me.
Anyways, not sure if I should continue this, but it was interesting how this evolved and I felt that it deserved to be posted.
She had long flowing black hair, dark as midnight and shiny as a well-polished hubcap.
"Wait, what?" a girl asked, putting down her book and looking left and right. "Who's saying that? I swear to god you better not be talking about me, creeper!"
Her soft pale skin flushed with intense emotion, making her look more like the ethereal pale goddess she was meant to be.
"Jesus Christ, what-?!"
Her eyes, like perfectly glimmering emeralds, shined fiercely with fierce anger. One could almost drown in that newt-colored abyss. Her cute button nose wrinkled in disgust and her lush pink lips pursed. It should look ugly, but with her heavenly face it just looked-
"Yeah, that's it," the girl declared solemnly, packing her things and standing up from the bench. "No more book reading outdoors, literature is best enjoyed indoors," she nodded decisively, turning her heel and marching home.
Her name was Rave-
"Like hell I'll let you announce that, you creeper!" she howled, then paused. "And that's wrong, either way!"
She was fifteen years old and was not like other girls-
"The hell is wrong with other girls?!" the girl stopped and turned to look up and glare at the unseen source of the voice. "I'm friends with other girls! I know what you're implying, you fuck!" she shook her first. "You got a problem with other girls, huh?!"
Being orphaned at such a young age, she grew up with little love. She was often cold and emotionless to others, especially those that weren't close to her. But despite her frigid exterior, deep inside she had a heart of gold. For, while it was a mere short span of her lifetime, she had met a kind old woman who called herself Madame Fragrance. The woman had found her trying to steal from her strange antique shop, and instead of taking her to the police or kicking her out, she invited the little girl to her small abode. Madame Fragrance was wise, and even kinder. She held patience over the thief's abrasive and distrusting personality, giving the young orphan a play to rest, fresh food to eat, clean water to drink, and new clothes to wear. As days passed, the thief came to see the kind old lady as a parental figure. But one day, the girl discovered a huge secret Madame Fragrance was hiding. Deep in the shop's basement was another floor that carried all of Madame Fragrance's magical items! Yes, Madame Fragrance was actually a powerful witch! She had retired to become a shop owner of magical charms. The girl saw this as a chance to become strong enough to avenge the death of her family, so she pleaded the old lady to teach her how to use magic. And then she learned the destructive art of fire and-
"THAT'S TOO GODDAMN LONG! SAY ALL THAT CRAP IN TWENTY WORDS OR LESS!" she roared, pulling her hair. "And none of that was even remotely close! My parents are perfectly alive and healthy!" she slapped herself, screaming out in frustration. "Why am I even here?! I'm going! Bye!"
For years, it was only Madame Fragrance who the budding apprentice trusted.
"Nope, not listening to this!" she said loudly, walking briskly and not looking back. "Nope! Nuh-uh! Nyet! Nada!"
Until one day-
She collided with something hard, and with an oof she stumbled back and landed on the pavement hard.
She met him.
"Oh, this is getting ridiculou... are you shitting me, that is not fair!" she whined, widening her eyes at the tall man over her. He was unfairly gorgeous, with long black—almost dark violet when light hit it—hair that could make any girl weep in envy, beautiful blue eyes that was lined with eyeliner (when this was over, maybe she could ask the man how he did it so perfectly, her friends' would appreciate more makeup tips), and a body that was just all hard and sleek in that tight black v-neck top he was wearing, "I'm still ain't doing this! Get up, hot dude, or I'm crying pedophilia."
The man quirked a perfectly sculpted brow (and she both sneered and swooned at that) and got up, all graceful and effortless to boot. She made an effort to get up with as much seething anger and rage as possible, at least, that was what she convinced herself of doing as she nearly stumbled again trying to get up. She harrumphed, dusting her skirt with as much dignity as possible.
She then proceeded to ignore the bemused man and walked as quickly as possible.
Then a truck was rushing towards her.
"That's pretty weak-wait, what?!" she screeched, turning to see a truck swiveling towards her, bracing herself to become roadkill.
It fortunately did not happen, as the gorgeous man rushed towards her in inhuman speeds and pulled her out of the way.
"Oh-kay," she gasped, clinging onto her rescuer as she stared at the truck hitting a nearby building instead. "I know mom said I shouldn't trust strangers, but I feel relatively safer being carried by you, hot dude. Hope you don't mind I cling to you like a koala for a while."
The man shrugged.
It was fortunate that the mysterious man had been there and used his body as a shield to protect her.
"Uh, no he didn't?"
The truck was destroyed.
"Yeah, by the building, not the hot dude."
She knew this man wasn't just an ordinary man, and not just in looks.
Okay, she couldn't argue with that.
As the man walked away-
Said man looked even more bemused, decidedly not walking away. He looked up at the sky with confusion. She cried with joy, because it wasn't just her who was dealing with this weird shit! "Hot dude, you can hear the creeper voice?"
The man raised his brow again by her choice of words (and seriously, she had to agree with the voice, this guy could not be this naturally hot), and nodded.
She called out-
"Oh, god, that's awesome! Not that it's good, but like I'm not alone in this-WAIT, TELL ME YOUR NAME!" she screamed in surprise, the man blinked and she slapped her mouth. "Why did I say that? Why did I scream? You are literally inches away from me-THANK YOU FOR SAVING ME!" her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, my god, it's fucking dialogue," she gasped in horror. "The voice is narrating a story and we're the characters."
The man smiled-
The man did not smile. In fact, he looked almost as horrified as her from that realization.
-and said-
"My name is," the man said, eyes saying that he was not liking this turn of events. "M-"
For some reason, she felt like the voice couldn't get this part. Sharing other people's personal details was not on. She quickly covered his mouth and fake sneezed loudly, "Mike!" she blurted out. "Mike, uh, Sinterniklaas? What a weird name!" she laughed with fake amusement. An itch in her head making her think, and she suddenly had an idea. "My name is, er, Dan…ielle? Green! Danielle Green! If you were wondering, hot dude! So how about we go to my house and have implied making out on my bed?"
There was lust in both of their eyes.
The man did not look on board with that.
"Yes! I have no parents at home, since they're… dead, apparently," she got off him, and grabbed his wrist. "Let's do the nasty as our first act of our true love, because that's how these stories often go!" she tugged hard and began running.
The man fortunately followed, perhaps he was too confused with what was happening. She couldn't blame him.
She gasped for breath, face red with exertion.
"Man, that was a workout," she huffed, wiping away the sweat on her forehead. "Well-"
The two had just finished with their passionate lovemaking. The man's virile meat rod satisfying her-
"What?" the man choked, looking up in horror.
Yeah, she thought. I know, hot dude, I've read better descriptions.
"Huh," she blinked, finally getting her heartbeat to a relatively normal rhythm. They had dashed to her house as fast as her legs could handle (she suspected the man slowed down for her benefit, the dude looked fit after all). "Well, that proves my theory."
"Theory?" the man repeated, trying to ignore the voice's praises on his supposed mystic powers of his genitals and abs. She pouted, because of course the man also had a hot voice to go with his hot everything.
"Yep," she nodded, doing the same and ignoring the praises to her apparent kiss-bitten skin and lovely thighs. "If we follow the story, as minimal as possible, then the voice can't do anything to us besides being annoying," she tilted her head. "I mean, if the voice could control what we said, then we should have been moaning these past few minutes. Who knows what else would have happened if we kept ignoring it."
The man looked disturbed at that, she sympathized with him.
"So, Mike Sinterniklaas the hot dude," she started. "Wanna talk about our omnipresent voice predicament while eating something? I think I have some chocolate pudding we can gorge on."
Two cups of delicious chocolatey goodness later, the girl felt she had the gist of the story.
"So you're saying," she licked her lips to swipe away the chocolate mess she made. "That we're in some alternate reality that real people were shoved in from the real world, because of some crazy cult of magicians?"
"Yes."
"And this reality would slowly change the real people to alternate people as time passed?"
"It already has."
A beat of silence as she processed that.
"I guess you appearing out of nowhere and us speaking random crap is proof of that," she said eventually, missing the pained look the man was giving her. She massaged her temples, feeling a headache from all of this. She should be doubting this, it was too fantastical. Yet something in her gut told her it was true, and she could trust this man.
And now that she thought about it, she had this odd feeling of being in-between the state of dreaming and waking up. Like it took all her strength to swim through consciousness, she had been tired from just… living. It was why she had been trying to relax in the park instead of going straight home and studying for her exams.
Had she been fighting against whatever this was? For how long?
"How does it work though? Mind control? Hypnotism?" she wondered, feeling that tiring feeling ebb away the more she was with the man. "How do you convince a large group of people that what's untrue is now true?"
"By giving your name," the man said softly.
"Huh?" she blinked.
"Names have power, especially your true one," the man continued, looking at her sadly. "If the person gives it away, they give power over to those who hear it."
"And that's bad?" she asked, tilting her head. "It's just a name, something given by your parents, right?" then again, this was magic mumbo-jumbo, so maybe it made sense?
"Names become reflections of your being," the man explained. "And if one has a name, they have an idea on how to control the owner… even change them."
"So like a blueprint," she hummed. "I guess this explains why I felt so adamant that the voice didn't get a chance to announce our names," she frowned worriedly. "Your name isn't actually Mike, right? I'd kick myself if I accidentally outed you."
"No, far from it," he shook his head. "But you…"
"Hm?"
"You shouldn't be aware of the voice, or any of the dangers of this world," the man insisted. "You gave out your name, I saw it with my own two eyes."
She blinked again.
"Everything about you is different," the man continued, looking more and more uneasy by the second. "Your hair, your skin, your clothes, your eyes, your gen-" he clenched his fists, and she noticed how very tired and small the man looked—hunched up and defeated on her family's sofa. "You walked and talked like this is normal and you don't remember," a hitch. "None of them do, not even-"
She hummed.
This time it was not a hum of thought. She hummed a soft tune, a lovely song she remembered hearing as a child. The man stiffened, and she hummed louder, inching closer to him and rubbing his back. She kept humming, not rushing in to the song. The man let out a shaky breath and unclenched his fists, closing his eyes.
She didn't stop humming, not until the song was over.
The man still looked tired and small, but he looked less like he was one poke away from keeling over—or flipping the table. Either way. "You feel better now, dude?" she asked, still rubbing circles on his back. She got a nod in reply and she smiled. She imagined they made quite a pair, a grown man on the verge of crying and a teenage girl comforting him the same way her dad-
No, that's wrong.
("No more tears, my little sun," papa said. "See? You're all better now.")
You called him papa.
She stopped rubbing, shaking her head from the strange… what was that?
"My princ-…ess?" the man asked, noticing her stop.
"Dude, what? Is the alternate reality getting to you?" she asked, baffled at the title the man called her. "Is that like your pet name for me or something? Ugh, nevermind," she shook her head, they were all stressed here. It was less icky than honey or sweetheart or something. "So how are we still, y'know, not completely alter-locals yet?"
He blinked.
"Well, you said I gave my name, so it should be game over for me, right?" she pointed out. "But, I dunno, I feel like I know you—and I'm obviously still the same in some way, since you recognized me regardless of my appearance."
"You are," he said quietly. "I didn't notice it right away, but your mannerisms are still," he gestured at her. "You."
"So how-"
They looked each other again, lost in their endless love.
"Ah, crap," she hissed, standing up and narrowing her eyes. "The hell is it planning now?"
She felt guilty for lying about her name, it made sense when they were mere strangers, but now-
"I must confess that my name isn't actually Danielle Green! It's Dan Green!" she said quickly. "I know, so horrible! Most of the time, people think I'm a guy with a low sexy voice!"
The man looked at her and said-
"I have not been honest with you either, my-" the man looked like he was swallowing (or spitting, in this case) an extremely sour lemon. "-baby girl-"
Despite the serious repercussions of the man being controlled, she couldn't help but snicker at that. Whoever wrote this was horrible.
"My true name is-"
"Michael? Wow, that suits you!" she exclaimed loudly in exaggerated adoration, still cackling at the pet name the man was forced to say. "Well, since we did the smexy and we just had our first heart-to-heart, this calls for a date!" she said happily. "Because smut is good and all, but adding fluff is a great way to go!"
And she was dragging him again.
"So, how am I not an alter-local?" she asked again, holding his hand and dragging him towards a mall she knew. Maybe a bite in Burger King, she felt like he would appreciate onion rings right now. "And actually, how are you not? You're obviously more aware than I am, I just got these feelings."
"You changed the ritual somehow," he replied, trying to remember. "It all went by too fast, but you did something. You softened the power in the ritual, creating a kind of loophole in the chant."
"I did?"
"Mm, you intervened during their world creation," he said, looking at her in speculation. "This world is an amalgamation of your rules and their rules, which could explain why you have these instincts."
Right, she suppose she'd be familiar with something she made.
"But to do that, you had to…" he closed his eyes. "Use your name in your chant."
"Ah," now she understood. Kind of. So names were like magical ingredients, and she used hers to try and save lives. "Wait, but," she frowned. "If that's true, then why do I still feel the need to protect my name? And why is the voice trying to make me say my name?"
"My lady?"
"Don't call me that," she said, contemplating on this. "Okay, so if it were me, and it was, then I'd have made like a backdoor or something."
"A backdoor?"
"Yeah, like, I don't think I'd be able to release a whole world of people," she explained, nodding at her logic. "But I would definitely try to find a way to get reinforcements. Like, I dunno, letting some people escape and do something from the outside?"
The man's eyes widened. "The wielders," he breathed. "Of course! That's why I'm still-"
She smiled at him coquettishly, fluttering her lovely long lashes.
"I have no redundant sounding lashes to speak of, what even," she huffed. "Come on, let's do a date. How does onion rings sound like? I think you like onions."
The man brightened at that.
"So, you think releasing these wielders could undo this weird Twilight Zone?" she asked, munching on her four cheese burger. She wondered if this was real, she wondered if burgers were just brain farts her pre-alter self made. Heck, maybe they didn't look humanoid in real life. "Okay, so magic versus magic – makes sense, how do we do it, though?"
"They need to remember," he said firmly, and a grown man should not look so serious while eating ketchup dipped onion rings. "They were not completely unscathed from the ritual, else we would have done something days ago."
"So you're one of them, then?" she snorted at his surprised look. "Oh, come on, you're a guy who's completely aware of what's happening. If those wielders were the only hope, then no doubt I'd have tried to protect them in some way, but wait-" she took a sip of her coke. "-you said they need to remember? So you didn't? How'd you remember, then?"
"… I met my-" he breathed, looking down at his rings. "-my student, she's exactly the same except… she didn't recognize me," he closed his eyes. "I stood there, confused on why I felt hurt with that. Wondering why a little girl walking past me was like a stab in my chest," he opened his eyes and smiled bitterly. "Then I remembered, and I became aware on how wrong this world felt."
Nothing was said, the lively chatter of other people in the fast food restaurant filled their silence.
"Triggers," she realized, snapping her fingers. "That's how to make them remember, you just need one trigger! And I suspect you all know each other, so that means once one remembers, then they can just try to find another… and another… and another! You can all meet and trigger yourselves!" she paused. "That sounded worrying, out of context."
"Why do you think that?"
"Trigger is a term that usually means-"
"No, my lady," the man said, amused. "I meant the triggers as the solution."
"Don't call me that," she ordered, shaking a ketchup packet threateningly. "Well, you saw someone you knew for a short moment and everything came crashing down," she explained. "And, uh, I think my condition's more severe since I mucked up with the ritual on purpose—but I've been feeling better since I met you," she shrugged. "I also felt the wrongness, but I wasn't aware it existed until you showed up, and my instincts only appeared when I wanted to hide your name. And I know things like you calming down when someone hums, and your favorite food is anything with onions."
Wait, so onions was a legitimate real thing, then? Not a brain fart? Awesome.
"That could work," the man mused. "Our appearances haven't changed drastically compared to others and," he glanced at her. "It's worth a try."
"Okay, now that that's done, we have another issue," she put down her burger. "The magicians can't use names unless it's given, right? They must know our names by now, but they're putting all this effort to make us say them again."
"Yes, mistress."
"Eugh, not that, people might think we're into kinky shit," she wrinkled her nose at that. "So we need to call ourselves different names, how about the ones I blurted out?"
"That's actually a good idea, my queen," the man commented.
"My quee-? You're not gonna let up, aren't you?" she groaned. "Look, just stick with the first one, it's less sappy, kinky, and mushy."
"As you wish, princess," the man grinned, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
"You're doing this on purpose, don't think that gentlemanly aura will fool me!" she accused. "I have an open packet of ketchup, Mike! Don't think I won't use it!"
He chuckled, shaking his head. She grinned, feeling better than she ever had in her alter-life. She wondered if she should worry about her parents finding out she's missing at home. Hell, should she be worried about school or family? They might not be real in her… actual real life.
And the man, Mike, he said she originally looked entirely different.
It seemed like the only real thing from her real life right now was him.
Existential crisis was a pain.
"Okay!" she clapped her hands, not thinking about it. "It's time to save the world!"
She tilted her head. "Or destroy it, technically."
"Of course, my princess."
"I am not gonna get used to that."
AN: So this is an AU of Rewind (and by extension, Play). Double AU.
Some notes:
Michael Sinterniklaas - English voice actor of Dark Magician
Dan Green - English voice actor of Yami Yuugi and Yuugi
One Punch Man - there are a few references to it
Btw the truck was actually a reference to how my main character in Rewind and Play died the first time.