Duplication of Being (Days Union x Reader)

[A normal day...or not]

I remade the first chapter for funsies, I was a big fat liar when I said I will never come back but that might still be on the table if I decide to commit (I won't)
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The dull light of the dying sun shines dimly through your window. The softness of it hits your face, coloring your retinas with a brown autumn color.

Turning over, you reach out for your cellphone, to check the time. In bold white letters 2:34 pm flashes on the screen, you wince at the harsh light. Kicking your blanket off rather lazily, you go to the notes app to check what groceries you need to get.

You decide on getting ingredients for pancakes, yes you will need some, all-purpose flour, baking powder, sugar and salt (which you already have) so you will need to buy some eggs, butter and milk. Since that would be only three things you need to buy you type up more groceries of various fruits and vegetables for future meals.

Opening the drawer and mindlessly grabbing a random pair of clothes you pull out the same old monochromatic outfit you are made to wear everyday (you have several more of these uniforms in that same drawer). If the operatives were going to make people wear the same uniform everyday they should at least make them less ugly. you pull over a worn out blue cardigan over it that you never seem to take off.

Under your bed lays a dusty shoebox filled with cash to help you last for a few more weeks until you bounce back to another job. Remembering how you completely screwed up the last one makes you cringe so hard you snatch a few bills and shove the box back under.

You don't forget to put on a mask before leaving, you never forget.

There's rarely anyone outside the desolate district in the afternoon, people only go out when they need to for work and such. It is common knowledge to go outside only when absolutely needed, and only when it's safe between 8 am and 6 pm. Only ignorant newcomers wander around the dangerous streets, and those who go at night-

"That will be $30 please."

30$?!? Did you really spend that much? You were only here for a few ingredients for a pancake breakfast (or brunch, its way past morning now). You hand over the cash to the cashier with a desolate sigh, your impulsive spending habits are really not improving your financial situation.

After sending off home with your arms straining to carry the groceries you try to remember the steps of making pancakes, what berries and how much you're going to drown the pancakes in syrup. Ignoring the screeching sound of a motorcycle coming your way, a memory comes to mind of when you accidentally tilted over the syrup bootle too harshly and ruined your pancakes (it tasting way too sweet for your liking, despite your insanely sweet, sweet tooth), however, this gets interrupted as a strong force, like concrete knocks the air out of your lungs as you come crashing down alongside your fallen comrades (your groceries).

Your head feels lightheaded as the world splits and spins before your eyes and then aligning into one, once again. You turn over your elbow as rust like red bleeds through your favorite cardigan, pain slowly coming to focus. You look to your left to see all the groceries scattered around, some remains shown to be spilled out like the guts of a carcass. Digging your nails into the palms of your hands, you glare at whoever dared to manhandle you and your precious food.

That newfound rage quickly dissipated as a man, in the middle of getting off his luxurious looking red motorcycle was in front of you. His entire head was obscured by a golden helmet, the top of it extending into a horn like shape, fitting for his cruel treatment comparable to that of the devil, some might say Satan himself quivers like a wet puppy before him. Quite whispers can be heard among secrets and advice shared by citizens. Tales of the man about dark alleyways and hidden shadows, stories of threats and whimpered crying as well as warnings and relived sighs are told to shut down misbehaving children as well as adults. He wore the Days Union Operative uniform proudly for all to fear and bask at his privilege as the Governs Guard.

Pressing a button on the side of his helmet created an opening for his face to be seen. The person walking towards you was none other than Scary_Day (what a fitting name). He abruptly stopped approaching you after you instinctively backed up against the wall of the store. White eyes bore into your skin, you did your absolute best to not look away and pretend like you didn't feel as if your bones were melting off inside your muscle at the painfully intimidating eye contact he was creating. After a few heartbeats passed off excruciating silence (and excruciating eye contact stop looking at me stop looking at m) a voice that seemed to crawl out his throat came out.

                   "you okay?"

(HMMMMMMMMM. Well I don't know buddy pal, I sure do feel great after flying into the floor. The thirty dollars that came from the pile of stash that is rapidly decreasing has just been wasted on food that is now inedible, and yep my arm is bleeding out as well as-) Was what you thought in your head sternly. Of course you would never say anything so out of line, you may be unemployed and financially unstable but your life didn't suck that much to piss off an operative who could easily kill you for talking back.

Before you got to answer, he up and rode off on his motorcycle (into the non-existent sunset) leaving your tattered body behind. The newfound rage returning at  full speed as you yell out at him seemingly too in the moment to care about the consequences of your actions. When he disappeared from view you sat on the sidewalk as you tried to salvage what of the remaining groceries you have left. You were able to pick up some apples, (some sides being pressed into from the impact of the fall), butter, juice box, pack of sugar-

The sound of a motorcycle coming your way alarmed you and this time you did not ignore it. As you saw the same asshole coming your way a brief fear rose in your chest at the thought of a round two before another face popped up behind. This one was wearing a weird pink hat with a horse on top, and was slightly shorter than the latter. Was he bringing assistance? You put the bag down squaring up for a fight until you noticed that the shorter one approaching you was holding a first aid kit. Now that the stranger was close enough to be recognized, a Eureka moment hit you.

The guy with the pink hate and matching pink uniform in front of you was Benevolent_Day and as the name suggest, is much kinder and gentler than the other operatives. He is a baker and owns his own bakery on District 1 called the Benevolence Bakery. More importantly, he is a doctor that is tasked in trying to find a cure for the darkness virus that seemingly plagues the whole world. Despite being e more friendlier of the operatives, you are still cautious at the gun poking out of his pocket. Now that you recognized him, you allow him to move closer to take care of your wounds.

"Greetings, my name is Benevolent_Day, I am so sorry for the injury. I'll do my best to heal it." He said with a profound guilt in his voice as if he was the one who hurt me. "Its fine, I felt worse before.. besides you weren't the one who hurt me" you replied as you scanned around for that pesky brute..

"Oh my apologies, Scary_Day told me what happened, he brought me over to help. He's not very used to interacting with civilians so he asks me and the rest of the Operatives to deal with the social matters." You hiss as he dabs some liquid onto your arm, clean after his careful medical care. "Im sure he's sorry for what he did.. did something else happen?" You gestured over to the ruffled bags. "I can't make pancakes now." Benevolent nods his head sympathetically.

After he was done cleaning up, he picked you up by the hand. Throughout all this time, you noticed that Scary has been watching you intently fumbling with something in his hand. After helping you pick up the remaining groceries he grabbed your hand and grasped Scary with his other hand.

  "Lets go to my bakery!"