prompts { 2022 } fictober

[iluvroadrunner6]

Going to do one fic a day in an attempt to buff my word count for this year. Is this dumb when I already have prompts that I'm working through? Maybe but I'm in for the challenge.



PROMPTS:
1. “I chose you.”
2. “Nobody warned you about me?”
3. “That was not my intention.”
4. “How would that even work?”
5. “No, anything but that.”
6. “Adaptable, I like that.”
7. “Check that again, are you sure?”
8. “Do you remember?”
9. “Sounds like a you problem.”
10. “It’s my name on the line.”
11. “Think! For once!”
12. “You’re making my head hurt.”
13. “I don’t want you to do that.”
14. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
15. “What are you doing?”
16. “You’re looking, but you don’t see.”
17. “Are you serious?”
18. “I don’t think this is your problem.”
19. “Do we have a deal?”
20. “There’s only us.”
21. “I never said that.”
22. “Who said this is a good idea?”
23. “Not on my watch!”
24. “Is this safe?”
25. “You know I’d do anything.”
26. “I’m doing it, shut up.”
27. “That’s not why we’re doing this.”
28. “We all have our reasons.”
29. “You love this, don’t you?”
30. “I know what this looks like.”
31. “I’m not alone and neither are you.”

Request plurk
Completed: 31/31
Word Count: 63,823

Comments

10/23 ~ not on my watch! ~ marvel cinematic universe/the umbrella academy ~ 2,216

[rumorate]

Letting Five time travel them out is clearly not the best choice. Even if that choice is the only choice they have.

Allison drops out of the time bubble in the middle of a city, disoriented and unable to speak. Not the greatest thing for a girl on her own. Fortunately, she arrives in the middle of an alley where she can’t be seen, but as she steps out into the bustling, crowded area of the city, she can’t help but feel like she’s stumbled into a place that is not hers. But, given the people wandering around casually and no one panicking and running for their lives, she has to assume that the world isn’t ending.

That has to be an upside, right?

She scans the street for a moment, and a payphone comes into view. Sighing with relief, she cuts down the sidewalk and picks up the receiver, not thinking for a second that she can’t use it. But her lack of a voice doesn’t really matter, given that when she puts the receiver to her ear, there’s no dial tone.

She frowns, lifting her fingers to hang up and try to restart the connection, but still nothing.

“I don’t think that works anymore.”

Allison turns, and meets the eyes of a teenage girl, backpack slung over her shoulder. The girl seems to be decked out in some kind of superhero merchandise Allison doesn’t recognize. She doesn’t understand why the payphone wouldn’t be working—wouldn’t that be dangerous in the event of an emergency?

“Yeah, everyone’s got smartphones now, so they stopped maintaining them.”

Allison blinks again. What the hell is a smartphone? The girl seems confused by the look on her face and Allison gestures to the bandage on her throat before gesturing for a paper and pen with her hands.

“Oh! Got you!” The girl slings her backpack off her shoulder before flipping what looks like a sketchpad open. Allison takes it from her with a grateful look, before writing:

Smart phone?

“Yeah, everyone’s got one.” The girl pulls what she assumes has to be a smartphone out of her pocket and holds it up for Allison to see. It’s about the size of a memo book and has a screen like glass. Apparently, everyone just carries a phone in their pocket now. The girl registers Allison’s confusion and blinks in surprise. “Wow. You’ve really never seen a smartphone before. That’s … wow.”

Allison looks apologetic, before writing: Guess they don’t have them where I’m from. Which is weird to say, but she’s getting the sinking suspicion that she’s not where she’s supposed to be. What year is it?

“2026. Did you get super extra blipped?” Allison must look confused enough that the girl seems concerned. “Look, my name is Kamala. Do you need some help?”

Allison nods eagerly, before writing again: Allison. Please.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Weird stuff happens here all the time. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out. But first things first: gyros! We’re going to need brain food.”

Allison nods, before following the girl’s lead. She’s still not sure what she’s doing, but she knows one thing. She’s starving.

* * * * *

Well. Wherever Allison is, it sure isn’t home.

No Umbrella Academy. No, Reginald Hargreeves. There’s a thing called the internet that lets you look up whatever kind of information you want, and the internet works with the phone in your pocket so you can literally take it wherever you go. Allison can tell that Kamala’s confused about explaining all these technological advances to an adult, but once she gets the complete story out of her (thanks text to talk), she gets on board so quickly.

“You must be from another universe or something. A universe where the internet and the Avengers don’t exist.” Kamala’s eyes look wide. “No offense, but it sounds like your universe sucks.”

Allison makes a face and nods. She’s not really sure there’s another way to swing that one.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Allison shrugs, before picking up Kamala’s phone and typing. “Have to find my siblings. Make sure they’re okay.”

“I can help! You can’t be out there on your own, with no voice and no one to turn to.” Kamala takes her sketchbook back. “Describe them to me. All of them.” A beat as she looks down at the smartphone. “As best you can, anyway. I can pass them around to the hero squad and if any of them show up in Newark, we’ll be able to find them.”

Allison hesitates, not really knowing if it’s the best choice to just be putting her siblings' faces out there. Especially since Diego was just charged with murder. But if she’s in another world, truly, especially one where she doesn’t exist, she knows she cannot get home without her family. She nods, and slowly starts typing out descriptions for each of them, giving Kamala enough guidance to draw them with accuracy.

When all the drawings are done and lined up on the library table in front of them, Kamala looks over at Allison with a small frown.

“Can I ask you something a little personal and probably inappropriate?”

Allison lets out a huff that could have been a laugh. Her vocal chords ache with the effort to try, but it still needs more time. “Sure.”

“What happened? To your voice.”

Allison frowns, and then types quickly: “Fight with my sister.”

“And she slit your throat?” Kamala looks horrified. “That’s cruel, even for a sister fight.”

It’s a lot to explain. She knows that. And the idea of trying to type it all, all the context and nuance, feels exhausting. So instead, she says: “I hurt her first.”

“It’s still not right.” Kamala frowns, before gathering up her drawings. “Okay. You’re going to need a place to stay, and if you’re from another universe, you probably don’t have any money. But! Lucky for you, I think I know someone who can help.”

Allison’s gotten herself this far, trusting Kamala. She thinks she can handle trusting her a little further.

* * * * *

For the long ride to the city, Kamala explains a lot to Allison. The Avengers, the Blip, Captain Marvel and Photon, who she claims are part of her superhero team. And then Kamala introduces her to the sorcerers who live in New York City. They give her a spare phone so that Kamala can have hers back, and she’s still not sure if she can trust it all, but the Sorcerer Supreme, as he calls himself, is very nice and apparently dealing with multiversal shenanigans is their specialty. Kamala says goodbye and that she’d pass on the drawings to Photon—she works for the government, she might help find them.

As Allison leans back on the bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out how her life turned into this, she reaches for her phone and sends a quick message.

I used to be a superhero too.

She pauses, staring at the text bubble and feeling like that’s not quite enough. After a pause, she sends another:

I think you’re better at it than I am.

As she rolls over, she can already hear the dings of all the questions that she’s going to have to answer in the morning, but she’s so exhausted that she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

* * * * *

Apparently, the world really ended.

Stephen Strange can confirm that for her, and that grief is a punch that has her secluding herself in her room for days, if not weeks. Because while there’s a chance that her siblings may be out there, if the same thing that happened to her happened to them, but that’s not a guarantee. And no matter what, her daughter is dead.

That kind of loss is something that knocks you from your feet.

Kamala keeps texting her throughout. She doesn’t know how much the sorcerers told her about Allison’s situation, but the texts never explicitly reference it. In the end, it’s a lot of cute pictures and videos, and information about the world she’s currently living in. She never begrudges her if Allison doesn’t text her back, and over time—a lot of time—she sends funny pictures back.

This internet thing, it can be a kind of fun, even if it is terrifying.

Still, it takes months for her to really feel up to being social again. It helps that her voice is coming back, raspy as it is, and she can talk more than she has to type. She still should rest it, and she does not know if her power works, but it makes her feel a little more like herself. She does her best to earn her keep around the Sanctuary, so she doesn’t feel like she’s freeloading, and she even goes and does a minor crime fighting with Kamala occasionally.

It makes her feel like she’s going back to her roots, and she never hated being a superhero. She just hated doing it her father’s way. She might not be able to rumor anyone, but she can still throw a pretty good punch. And it turns out to be a pretty good release for some of that grief and anger.

One night, however, they bite off more than they can chew. Kamala stumbles across actual organized crime, something where there’s more of them than there are of Allison and Kamala. And while they handle themselves well in the beginning, things take a turn.

Allison gets slammed into a wall, one goon having a hand against her throat. She lets out a groan of pain, before scrambling to get a handhold that will give her an advantage, but she can’t seem to get a grip.

“Just stay still, bitch.”

“Kiss your mother with that mouth?” Yeah, the snark she remembers how to do. She keeps the blade away from her skin until she sees Kamala slam into the opposite wall and go down hard. Panic floods her, and she knows she can’t let what happened to Claire happen to Kamala.

With a surge of adrenaline, she twists the wrist of the man in front of her and shoves the knife into his shoulder. The man screams in pain and falls to the ground next to her. Kamala’s goon raises a gun, and she knows she won’t be able to make it to the other side of the alley in time.

“Hey, dipshit!”

He looks up, glancing at her, and she reacts in the quickest way she knows how.

“I heard a rumor you shot yourself in the foot.”

To her relief, waves of power ripple through the space and she watches as his eyes go white. The gun shifts, from pointing at Kamala to pointing at his own foot, and he fires. He screams in pain, but Allison’s able to cross the alley and slam his head back into the brick wall, dropping him to the ground.

“How did you do that?”

She glances over and Kamala is staring up at her, eyes wide. Allison extends a hand to help her up.

“I told you I used to be a superhero.”

“That’s … so cool. But also really scary, all at the same time. So glad you’re not a supervillain.”

“Yeah, as much as they have style, I don’t actually enjoy being evil.” Allison looks her over quickly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for having my back.”

“Hey, Ms. Marvel’s not going down on my watch.”

She hears the click of the safety sliding into place and turns to see the goon she’d abandoned raising his gun. Allison quickly moves to stand in front of Kamala. When two blades come from the side, one embedding itself in the goon’s wrist. He screams and drops the gun, and Allison’s head snaps in the direction they came from, only to see her brother’s face coming out of the shadows.

“Diego?”

“Holy shit, Allison.”

He covers the space between them in two easy strides, and envelopes her in a warm hug. She squeezes him back just as tightly, relieved that she isn’t the only one, not anymore.

“Did you throw those knives from around the corner?!”

They break and both look at Kamala. Allison pauses, swiping some tears from her cheeks. “Diego, this is Kamala, my friend. Kamala, this is my brother Diego.”

“Hey, kid. Nice costume.”

“Thanks! Think you can teach me how to do that knife trick?”

Diego grins before nodding. “Sure. After I catch up with my sister, I’ll show you everything I’ve got.”

“Cool. I’ll text Dr. Strange and Wong to make sure they have an extra room.” Kamala activates her bracers, heading for the rooftops, and Allison turns to steer Diego towards the sidewalk.

Diego blinks as he and Allison. “Dr. Strange and Wong?”

“Oh yeah. Do I have a doozy of a story for you. Tell you all about it on the way back.”

One sibling down, only four more to go. And for the first time in a long time, she starts to feel something almost akin to Hope.

[Next]