Ace of Spades [DSMP x Reader] (COMPLETED)

Chapter 17

CW: wilbur is drunk, violence

・❥・

You woke in the middle of the night.

For the week after you found Fundy on the railing of the needle, you hadn't been able to sleep. Either you couldn't close your eyes for the whole night, or you would wake in the brief hour before dawn, much too early. Sometimes you would try to sleep, but it didn't work, so you would take the stairs up to Fundy's room, and just press your ear against the door, to make sure that he was there, and not--you didn't want to think about it.

This night was different though.

You leaned over your windowsill, a cloak loosely draped around you against the chilly night air. The casino was in full swing, but the rest of the desert was empty and quiet.

And, like magic, as you watched, a light flared to life in the middle of the darkness.

What was that?

You squinted. There was a faint pinprick of light, like a lantern, pulsing at the base of the needle. There was an uneasy feeling that curled around your lungs, as you stared at it, suffocating you with the tension.

Quickly, you buttoned up the cloak properly, and grabbed your axe off of the wall. You didn't bother to go the proper way, instead, hopping over the railing of your patio and breaking into a run towards the needle.

As you finally drew close enough to see what the light was, your heart dropped.

Wilbur, his arms spread wide, gesturing at the needle with manic movements. Ranboo, holding a lantern in one hand, and a box of matches in the other.

"Hey!" you yelled, the blazing heat of rage blooming in your chest, "I told you not to come back here!"

Wilbur spun around to face you, no surprise evident on his face. Not even fear. He didn't have his glasses, and the only expression that he wore was one of pure glee. "Why hello! So kind of you to visit us!"

"I'm going to kill you," you said, through gritted teeth, black crowding the edge of your vision, "You don't get any second chances. You--you knowingly came back on our land, and you brought Ranboo, and--"

A timid gesture from Ranboo cut you off mid-sentence, and you glanced at him. He tried to say something, but nothing came out, his voice catching in the night air. Another try. "Um, he's drunk," Ranboo half-whispered.

What? "You're drunk?"

Wilbur shook his head. "No, it was only a couple shots!"

But there was the telltale lack of balance, the unsteadiness of his shaking hands, the feeling like he was walking on the edge of a tightrope. And it didn't do anything to calm you. A drunk Wilbur was a dangerous Wilbur. What did you do now? What--

You drew your axe, and swung at Wilbur. He dodged--almost perfect reflexes, even when not entirely sober--and grabbed a sword from where it had been leaned against the wall, and with a flash of metal, you dived into combat.

I'm going to kill him.

・❥・