𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 || fandom

Respite (Multifandom Lore)

TW: blood, knife, stabbing, assault, near-murder of our favorite cinnamon roll

Plot's in the first of the multifandom lore one-shots...y'know. This one takes place after Angel found out about her beloveds' massacres towards Spamton. White gets thoroughly pissed because Spamton stole Angel from him, and...well. Y'know. Murder. He's a violent Synthezoid, what do you expect from him?

It had been a few days after Angel had finally found out what White and the other beloveds had done to Spamton, and she was far from forgiving them. Every time they hung out together, she was always distant with her beloveds, ignoring their comments and answering their questions shortly, never once engaging a full conversation with any of them, especially not White. She only went out of her way to hang out with Spamton, leaving the others behind. And White couldn't take it anymore.

He had fully believed that Angel would've taken his side on the matter, listening to the beloved that she had known most of her life, rather than taking the words of that pitiful puppet. He couldn't understand why she was treating him this way, after all he had done for her. The assaults were meant to bring them closer together, not tear them apart!

Spamton. It all boiled down to Spamton. He had stolen Angel from them. He was the one that turned their lives into a living hell. Spamton needed to pay for his actions, and White wanted nothing more than to make him suffer, to force him to his knees and have him beg for mercy.

The gang were seated on a few benches, near the clearing where Maple and Connor had had their blind date. Angel was talking about some matter about the Chaos that White couldn't be bothered to listen to, he had heard it all before. Her entire focus was fixated on Spamton, basically acting as if the other beloveds weren't there at all. That combined with Spamton's glitchy voice set White on edge, and he could feel his anger starting to peak. Since the assaults had been discovered, he had nobody to take his pent-up rage out on. He couldn't hurt Spamton, because Angel was around him all the time, and that fact was starting to consume him.

There was nothing that White wanted more than to wrap his hands around Spamton's throat, to hear him gasp and cry out as the life drained from his eyes. There was nothing that White wanted more than to pin him to the ground, to feel his bones shatter beneath his fists, to watch blood coat his knuckles and stain his clothing. He no longer cared about the manipulation anymore. He didn't want to control Spamton anymore.

He just wanted to kill him.

White closed his eyes for a second, and was suddenly face-to-face with an opportunity. Angel was gone, along with Ballora and Technoblade, having departed the group after explaining something about helping her mother with a job. Glancing around quickly, he established that nobody else was in the clearing with them. It was him and Spamton, all alone. He looked back over at Spamton, contemplating what he was about to do. The salesman had been watching him closely, but he quickly looked down in order to avoid eye contact with him. White chuckled a bit at this, and stood up.

"Y'know..." he muttered. "I never really got a chance to apologize to you personally. The manipulation, the degradation, all of that was uncalled for, and I apologize for that."

Spamton glanced up at him, nodding somewhat curtly. "[Thank You, Come Again], I APPRECIATE-"

"I really should've just listened to Techno, and killed you without hesitation." White said, putting his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, feeling the small, metal object that he had brought with him. "I was too caught up in the moment to think about the consequences of prolonging your suffering, and look at what that cost me. This, however, won't take long."

Spamton's eyes widened at his words, and stood up. "WH-WHAT ARE YOU-"

White pulled out the object in his pocket; a switchblade, given to him by Techno. The sunlight glimmered on the sharp metal surface of the blade as he opened it, causing Spamton to stumble back in fright, nearly tripping over the bench as he did so. "I may not have much time to do this, but I swear, I'm going to make every second count."