#Now let me get Alyssa in my lap so I can braid hers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scuzznishimuraenthusiast · 4 years ago

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my book

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Chapter One

Alyssa

It all started on game day. I was in my uniform, as all the cheerleaders are on game day, and my hair was in the braids I kept it in. I went throughout my day as normal, struggling through geometry, practicing all of second, crying over Karen at lunch, shining in ASL, doing my makeup in fourth, and having fun at the pep rally. Afterward, though, things started to get weird.

On my way from the pep rally to the gym, I felt someone watching me. When I got back, I talked to the rest of the team about it. I could see from their emotions that they were mostly worried, scared, and a little annoyed. I felt a little safer when the new girl, Jasmine, offered to walk with me to the doors.

Jasmine walked with me, and we chatted. I got to know her a little better, but for some reason, I couldn’t see her emotions. I assumed she just wasn’t feeling anything strongly enough for me to see.

“Do you want a ride home?” I asked.

“Nah. One of the band kids is giving me one. Thanks for the offer though!” she replied.

That was the first mistake.

I called Sunan on the drive back.

That was the second mistake.

“I feel unsafe driving right now,” I confessed.

“You’ll be fine, ‘Lyss. I’ll see you in a few minutes!”

I sighed as she hung up.

When I showed up to her house, I felt even more unnerved. I didn’t know why. I’d been here a thousand times before. Why was I so worried?

I got my answer when I rang the doorbell.

A blindfold was pulled over my eyes. I was grabbed by the waist and shoved into a trunk. It wasn’t fun.

I was scared.

I was cold.

But worst of all, I knew who my captor was.

“Let me go!” I exclaimed. I was furious.

“And why would I do that?” Sunan asked.

“Why would you do this?” I sniped back.

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s so many more reasons than I have time to list right now. If you’ll excuse me, I have front row tickets to the game!”

Sunan was smart. She knew the best time to grab me, the best way to taunt me, the best place to keep me. I was in an unrecognizable place with actual rope on my arms.

I sighed. Instinctively, I reached for my phone. It wasn’t there. Of course, it wasn’t. Sunan was smarter than that. She wouldn’t have left it there.

I scolded myself under my breath. How could I allow myself to be so stupid?

I was tired.

I was cold.

But worst of all, I was alone.

Chapter Two

Graham

I checked my phone.

1 New Message

Jasmine: where’s Alyssa? Mrs. Heath is freaking out!

Me: I’ve no clue. I don’t see the girl she’s always with either

I scanned the crowd.

Mrs. Santos was there.

The drum major in the middle raised her hands. I picked up the flute in my lap.

We went about the game as normal.

The other section leaders were a bit concerned for me. I kept glancing down at the cheerleaders and drill team. Neither Alyssa nor Sunan showed up.

“Graham, Graham, Graham, look,” Flynn said, holding their phone out for me to see. It was apparently sent to the section leader group chat by Karen.

I snorted.

“Also, quick question, am I passing pretty well?” I asked.

“Yeah! Here, hold on,” they paused to grab what I can only assume was a bobby pin before tucking it into my hair. “Had a little piece hanging out.”

“Thanks, man! You’re passing great too.”

“Thank you, my guy. Also, would you like a gummy worm? Lily snuck ‘em in.”

“Of course! Thanks Lil!”

She shot finger guns back at me.

My phone buzzed against my rib.

I maneuvered to pull it out.

3 New Messages

Alyssa: GRAHSN

Alyssa: HEKO

Alyssa: SUNSSAN TOOK ME

I glanced around frantically.

“Morgan,” I asked one of the freshmen, “can you grab Alaina for me?”

“Yeah. Alaina? Graham needs something.”

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Look at this.” I showed her my phone screen.

“That’s not good. Alyssa’s in trouble. Isn’t she like, head cheerleader?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to do or how to help,” I confessed.

“I’d talk to that new girl, Jasmine. I saw her walk ‘Lys to her car.”

The screen on the scoreboard went dark. It flashed with a gray screen with white lettering reading, “Head Cheerleader Alyssa Santos is missing. If anyone has any information on this missing person report, contact the police.”

I looked down and around from the band stands. Sunan was looking directly up at me. Her eyes met mine and she smiled innocently up at me.

She was up to something. I knew it.

After the game, Jasmine hopped in my car.

“You’re not the kidnapper, right?” she asked tentatively before latching her seatbelt.

“No, but I think I know who is.”

“Are you sure this is the right house?” Jasmine asked as we approached Sunan’s house.

“Yes, I’m sure. I know where my crus- I mean my friend’s best friend lives. My parents also work for hers, so I end up here sometimes for business dinners.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘crush’?” Jasmine asked with incredulity.

“What? No!” I exclaimed.

“Good.”

She believed me.

I took a step onto the porch.

“Hello? Anyone home?” I called.

No response.

I took a leap of faith and, peeling up the doormat, started to snoop.

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me,” I said, holding up the key I found under the doormat.

“The door’s unlocked, Graham.”

“I-it is?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Oh.”

“After you, M’sir.”

I snorted, carefully stepping over the threshold and into the jasmine-scented house.

I turned to Jasmine, ready to make a horrible joke.

“Hey Jasmine, it smells like you in here.”

“I will wrap my hands around your throat,” she replied.

“Kinky!”

Jasmine started running toward me, causing me to run away.

I ended up hiding in what I thought was a closet.

“Graham?”

#kidnapping tw

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mianite-3-unofficial · 5 years ago

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Merry and Bright

Authors note: I’m not usually fond of holidays. They’re always stressful and make me anxious. But I wanted to extend a happy holidays to everyone who follows this blog, and has been around for the journey thus far. Thank you so much, every single one of you. This blog and all your support has been the best gift I could ever ask for. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Special thanks for @syndianites for editing and @lady-krystine for giving me character details. Enjoy!

Winter had shrouded the world. Tall, leaning acacia trees carried frost on their branches while the mountaintops and forests were swamped in heavy, wet snow. The whole world carried a chill. Even the sun seemed colder, doing nothing but reflecting off the snow, glimmering, blinding. Animals donned thicker pelts and traveled silently, any sound they made caught in the thick drifts of snow. In and out they went, staying out of sight. Even the people in the city were staying out of sight, each hidden in their house, little plumes of smoke rising into the sky, instead of beholding the bright, gleaming sunrise.

Only one person was outdoors, leaning against a building in full armor, a winter coat thrown haphazardly over his shoulders. If Jeriah felt the cold, he simply didn’t care. His eyes were blind to the sunrise, too lost in thought. Jeriah scratched his beard.

So much had changed. How long had it been. Ten years? Ten years since they went tumbling down the void and found themselves here, a world of strangeness. No technology. Materials were easier to come by, some found in the earth or pulled from the land, but most came from ruins. A huge tree shadowed the land and there were statues, faces built into mountain sides and by these strange ruins. Someone once lived here, they all knew it. Sure, Mot had claimed a castle, but the empty houses sent chills up Jeriah’s spine. Along the coast on the other side of the island, there was a humble city of tents and makeshift wooden buildings. Pirates or travelers, most of them, drawn to the island by the stories of some heroes. The four of them didn’t find the city on the first day, however.

Their first day on the island was spent grieving. Mot and Alyssa wept for Dianite, the rest of them for the world they had just left behind. They found the tents the third day, the gods the fourth. Somehow, this universe had mangled the gods beyond recognition. Jeriah shuddered just thinking about it.

Ianite took the form of a human woman, sure, with long purple hair, and a long, purple gown, but that’s where the similarities ended. She smelled like flowers and something unnamable. None of them could be around her for long, else their bodies would start to ache with the power barely contained in her false flesh. The Ianite Spark had known was so sweet, gentle, a good wife and a benevolent goddess. Sure, Jeriah only knew the benevolent goddess, but he understood why Spark was so shaken when she first showed herself to him. It was the same reason why Mot was scared when he met this universe’s Dianite. There was no suave businessman, only a shadow, a wraith, an invisible hand that rubbed salt into the wound of his grief. He showed himself in weak heat and raspy words, no true power, as if it had been siphoned from him. And Mianite…

Jeriah exhaled slowly, seeing his breath cloud before him. Ten years. Now the tents had turned into a proper city, bustling and prosperous. Ten years. Alyssa was a young woman, the strongest person he knew. A warrior, a diplomat, a daughter that Mot would be proud of. Mot, speaking of, was nowhere to be seen. And yet Ianite said that he was okay. That was all she said. That he was okay. The portal had broken after he left and, while Spark worked on it day in and day out, no good results ever came.

Ten years. Jeriah looked down at himself. He was older, certainly, his beard and hair greying, more from stress than age, but it made him look old. So did the feeling of another Winter Festival coming and going. The townspeople celebrated in the comforts of their homes, but Jeriah had better things to do than that. More important things. He pushed himself off the side of the building and pulled his coat tighter around himself.

It was a short walk from the town to Mianite’s temple, only half a mile along the coast. The grey sea lapped at his feet, chilling them even through his armored boots. The sun slowly rose, the grey ocean turning warm pink from its ascent. Snow and sand swished under his feet as he came to the coast, the temple across the cold, choppy sea. Jeriah dragged his boat from where it was kept-- hidden in a shallow cave on shore-- and hopped into it, sending himself out to the temple. The marble shone as white and pure as snow, yet it only filled him with dread as he came upon it. He tied the boat to one of the columns, letting it bob in the ocean. The stench of plants filled his senses, mingled with ozone and some strange, warm smell. Yes, Mianite certainly was here.

Jeriah stepped into the temple, his footsteps echoing loudly. The once gorgeous gardens were overgrown and mangled, filled with hardy weeds and all sorts of plants, like asphodel and marigold, blooming in spite of the cold. The torches were burnt out, the only light in the temple from the glowstone, which gave light but no heat. The floor was absolutely filthy, white marble marred with the footsteps of hundreds of people, thousands of footsteps all going there to kneel before him.

And there Mianite was. Strong and tall upon his throne, staring blankly as Jeriah walked in. This Mianite was the most different. A god of order and the overworld, yes, but he carried no poise or care. His hair, curly and long— down to his ankles— was braided with flowers that were kept alive by godly will alone, a crown of mallow and primrose upon his head. He wore a black toga that flowed over his tan, muscular body like ocean waves and sand. In his hands a sprig of wormwood, which he plucked at, fiddled with. The god didn’t seem to care for his duties to order anymore, only nature. Jeriah reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box.

“If this is your idea of an assassination attempt,” Mianite rumbled, “I ask you to get it over with.”

Jeriah blinked, staring up at Mianite. He did not kneel.

“It is no assassination attempt. It’s a gift, for winter festival.”

Mianite looked up from his wormwood, a long lock of hair falling in his face. His beard was filled with flowers, too. Mianite made a small gesture and the box floated out of Jeriah’s hands. He watched as Mianite caught the gift, then set it on the armrest of his throne.

“There,” He slowly drawled, “Now go. I have matters to attend to.”

Jeriah blinked.

“I stil need to talk to you—“

“I said go.” Mianite looked back to the wormwood, frowning.

“No!” Jeriah snapped, surprising himself and Mianite. But for the past ten years, there had been nothing but frustration and tiredness and, now, what could he do besides this?

“No,” Jeriah repeated, “No, I’m not leaving. You’ve been ignoring me, ignoring all of your other followers, letting nature and the universe fall into chaos. Lady Ianite has been keeping order. Not you. That is your domain.”

“And here I thought you had faith in me.”

Jeriah sputtered indignantly, glaring at Mianite. His whole body felt like it was on fire, an exhausted rage making him too bold for his own good.

“My lord, you might not be my god, but you are still a version of him, and I have some faith in you. Yet all you do is sit here, day in, day out, grieving--”

Mianite stood, glaring down at him.

“I am not grieving. You… You cannot grieve for someone who is alive,” He decreed, voice thick.

“Then what is with this, my lord? Wearing black, the flowers… It’s like you have made yourself nothing more than a living funeral service for whoever these people were. And even if they’re alive, they’re not here. I’m here! So is everyone else, the people whose footsteps stain the halls. It’s been ten years. It’s time to let go, my lord. I have, I’ve let go long ago. Because I know I’m never going back home, and... “ Jeriah took in a shaking breath, feeling tears well in his eyes. Fuck this, fuck this “...And I’ve accepted it. This is my home now, whether or not I like it. This is my world. It is yours, too, your people, who are all looking up to you. There has to be something I can do to help, to get you to stop being so… despondent. Hence the gift, my lord.”

Mianite stared blankly. He picked up the box.

“Now then. What is this?”

“A gift. To try to help cheer you up. Tis the season, my lord.”

Mianite nodded, brows furrowed, and opened the box. With shaking hands, he pulled out the contents. A candle, crudely made of white wax, the wick straight, like a soldier standing at attention. Mianite looked blankly at the candle. His brows furrowed, and the candle remained unlit, as if Mianite was fond of the cold darkness of the temple.

Jeriah turned on his heel to leave, wiping his face with his cold hands as he did so. His footsteps echoed loudly.

“Tucker. That was his name,” Mianite whispered.

Jeriah stopped dead in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at Mianite.

“There was also Sonja, Jordan, and Tom. Tucker, Sonja, Jordan, Tom. Now they’re gone. They have fallen out of my sight, and I could do nothing to save them. All I could do was watch.”

Jeriah looked down at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, voice echoing in the vast walls of the temple. But when he looked back to Mianite, the god was curled up in his throne, his face tucked between his knees. In one hand, the wormwood, in the other, the unlit candle.

Jeriah’s head spun as he left the temple, not looking back until he was safely ashore, choking back tears as salty as the freezing ocean before him.

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The forests were deep and filled with snow, the perfect place to spend a day like this. Winter festival. Ha. Alyssa felt like she had nothing to celebrate-- not since Mot left, at least. Sure, the growth of the city was beautiful, almost humbling how many people called it home, but the forest beckoned her. Maybe she could shoot something for dinner, make a stew or roast, something hot and filling for a day like this.

Alyssa held her bow steady, an arrow notched and ready for whatever might cross her path. It was a beautiful bow, carved of sturdy birch and reinforced with dark obsidian. The arrows all had a drop of dragons breath and spiders eye on the tip, a slowness potion that immobilized her prey-- long enough for a second arrow, at least.

Despite all of this, the iridescent purple string was the most interesting part of the longbow. It was made of a single strand of Ianite’s long hair, twisted and curled in on itself. Even with only two fingers touching the string, Alyssa could feel some sort of cosmic magic thrumming through her bones. The sensation felt as familiar as a hug, the feeling of the void, of Ianite. Alyssa pulled her white scarf over her mouth and nose, and crouched by a tree, waiting patiently. Ah, the winter wind over the frozen ground was such a calming noise, a haunting howl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention.

It made her feel like death was approaching. Such macabre thoughts didn’t belong in her head on what was supposed to be a festival day, a day of hope and festivity and love, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling. Death scarred her soul. Ever since she was a child. But she did have to admit, she was fond of this new world, its people-- people that didn’t seem to age, bodies weathering slowly. The cold took some, injury others, but never age, it seemed.

She did enjoy the company, though. From the people in the city Spark made, to the hunters that linger in the woods, to the hunters that secluded themselves from all people besides the ones in their stories, she enjoyed talking to them, even if they squabbled. Mot taught her how to do it properly. He was never one to deal with petty arguments. Now Mot was gone. The only answer Ianite ever gave when asked about him was ‘he’s safe’. Any more questions were met with a strange look, and Ianite saying ‘it is not my story to tell’. As if that made any sense.

Alyssa shuddered against the cold. Here again came the feeling of death approaching.

Ianite always comforted her, told her that he was okay, in a different place with Uncle Dia, who somehow wasn’t dead. Death. What a thing to think about. And even though he was alive, a part of her felt crushed with a cold weight, as if she had been buried in snow, or that there was an iron spike driven between her ribs, pinning her to the ground. He wasn’t dead. Mot lived, off in some far other-universe, but that did nothing to stop the weight from crushing her. Anything that he had left behind felt like another slap in the face. Screziato Enterprises, a castle that Mot had claimed as his own, made her feel heavy and sick, and, on some days, even the mention of the name sent her into a cold tizzy. She took a deep breath through the scarf, trying to ground herself.

Grief, that’s what it was. Grieving the fact that Mot might not ever return, and that he would never see her again. Grieving her father, her family, the life they could have had together as a big, happy family. All the things he had left behind were nothing but spectres, haunting her relentlessly. Alyssa didn’t move her hand from the bowstring.

She thought of Ianite, the day the goddess had taught her how to shoot a bow. Lady Ianite had held that bow so steady, a simple practice bow that strained and almost broke because of her inhuman strength. They shot arrows by a lake, warmed by the summer sun, all the living creatures hiding from Ianite’s strange aura. Alyssa didn’t mind it, though, the aura of Ianite felt like nothing but a gentle humming, as if someone was singing far, far away. Mot watched her shoot and said he was proud, so did Lady Ianite, and she felt as warm as the summer sun beaming down on them.

Now it was cold. Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. There, in a clearing surrounded by trees, a deer stumbled forward. The cold air hit her neck again. She drew her bow with the quiet hiss of an arrow on obsidian, breaths muffled by her scarf. For only a second, she thought of shooting her arrow into a tree. But instead, she stared into the deer’s glassy, black eyes, and loosed the arrow. It flew perfectly through the air, before impaling itself into the deer’s skull. The deer fell silently to the ground and laid there, still. Alyssa stared at it blankly, not knowing how to feel.

Alyssa pulled her scarf down. She walked through the clearing, to the deer laying on its side. Dead. Fully dead. Alyssa slowly crouched down into the snow, then laid down, her cheek in the snow. The deer died with its eyes wide open, an arrow now pinned between the two onyx pearls. Alyssa got up from the snow, grabbed it by the leg, and started pulling it through the snow, towards the city.

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Spark watched the snow fall from inside his home. It bathed the other houses in the city in sparkling white, now reflecting the yellow streetlights— an invention of his creation, with redstone packed into little glass bulbs and hooked up to wiring and sensors, only turning on when it was dark. The light they let off was pleasant and yellow. Or at least yellow-ish. It gave the whole city a homey feeling, which made sense. It was his home, after all, the city he built with his own two hands and years of work. Ten years, to be exact.

Now another winter festival had come. Not like the fall festival, where the people donned masks and ran all around the town, or in spring where they planted crops and sang songs that washed down the hill.

No, Winter Festival was a family affair. Everyone stayed in their houses, with the people they loved most. The sound was the only thing that slipped outside, laughter and happy voices that Spark heard when he walked down the streets with Jeriah earlier in the day. They talked about Ruxomar, their memories, and their plans to rebuild once they got home. Spark wanted to make Dagrun bigger than ever, and build more statues to Ianite. Jeriah, meanwhile, blabbered about alters and blood stuff fast enough to make his head spin, the bad mood he was in forgotten.

Now Jeriah was silently chopping veggies in the kitchen, not saying a word as Spark stared. The only noise in the house was Alyssa, humming to herself as she chopped chunks of deer meat for stew.

Winter festival was supposed to be a family affair. Spark shut his eyes, letting himself be carried off by memories. Helgrind and Martha bickering as always, Andor and Alva chasing one another around a tree lit up with magical lights, courtesy of Ianite. His Ianite. His goddess, his wife, the love of his life and the sun in the storm. A halo of lit candles would rest like a crown on her head, not a drop of wax scalding her porcelain features. Her dress was blue as the sky, but she wore a shawl of ice, geometric and fine, that somehow felt warm to the touch. And all of them— his whole family, children, grandchildren, sat around the fire and swapped little gifts, enjoyed the snow that fell on vast fields.

Spark sighed, the sound of Alyssa cursing behind him snapping him out of the memory. Never did he get any answer out of this Ianite- not his wife, but this universe’s goddess— about his family. All she said was that Mot was safe. Martha? Not her story to tell. Helgrind? Not her story to tell. His wife? Not her story to tell. Andor? Definitely not her story to tell.

Now all he had was Alyssa and Jeriah. His beacons. The only thing separating his dreams of home from the reality— that once there was Ruxomar and Dagrun. That once upon a time, he had a family. Now they were oh so far away…

Well. For now, at least. All he needed to do was get that portal to work, then he’d be home.

“Spark, you old coot,” Jeriah called, “come help Alyssa before she cuts herself again.”

“Now you know full damn well I don’t need any help!” Alyssa cried, pouting. Jeriah smirked.

“If I had known you were so good at cutting yourself, I’d have asked you to join the blood knights.”

“If I had known how big of an ass you were—“

Spark couldn’t help but laugh. God, they sounded just like Martha and Helgrind. Or Andor and Alva, bickering like siblings. But nonetheless, he walked over to Jeriah and wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him in a tight hug. Jeriah froze for a few seconds, then squeezed back. Alyssa soon joined, wrapping her muscular arms around the both of them. Sure, she was still holding a knife and had a bit of deer blood on her, but none of them cared.

It felt like they were home again.

But they weren’t.

They would be. And someday they would find their shoes on solid ground, home. Whatever that meant, they would find it again.

Snow fell peacefully outside for the rest of the night, and Spark’s heart overflowed with hope.

#jeriah #mianite season 3 #the realm of mianite #mianite #ianite #countrybat #country bat #spark plug #spark conway #takes place in s1 universe #mot screziato #miacho #mianite season 2

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goodbyecringe · 5 years ago

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(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 8

Éponine

As soon as I felt myself falling asleep I could feel Elise jostling my shoulder to try to wake me up. I had no desire to leave the bed even if it meant not getting to meet with Prince Julien.

“But Lady Éponine, all of the other ladies have been awake for half an hour,” she said with her large eyes.

The panic that went through my heart made me jump out of the bed and run into the bathroom hyperventilating.

“Lady Éponine, you’re allowed to sleep in because your routine is far less complicated than the other girls,” Miriam laughed, opening the doors to my large closet.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as she pulled me inside of the closet.

“Some of the other ladies have a hair and makeup routine that takes 3 hours while you should only take an hour and a half at the latest,” she said, pulling dresses.

She seemed to be in a significantly better mood this morning. I could see Laila pulling out brushes and combs at the vanity while Elise began to make my bed. It seemed that they worked as a well oiled machine. Miriam was the captain because of her seniority while Elise appeared to be the youngest and responsible for doing the more mundane tasks.

“Which dress would you prefer to wear, Lady Éponine?”

In her hands were two of the most spectacular and extravagant dresses I had seen in my entire life. There was a deep maroon dress that appeared to fall off the shoulder with a thick satin skirt and a sleeveless, tight-fitted grey dress that seemed to glimmer in the sunlight.

“We decided to base your wardrobe on Earth tones. Most of the other girls will be going for light or deep colors to make individual statements, but no one has a neutral wardrobe. Neutral doesn’t have to mean boring if done correctly,” she smiled, obviously very proud of herself.

In the end I decided on a green dress that was tucked away behind the dozen dresses that I had. I could see the disdain in Miriam’s face when I pulled it down and I could understand why. The dress was some shade of dark green with a full, but not overly large skirt. The top half covered my shoulders and collarbone and even though it was the simplest dress in my closet, it was the nicest thing I had ever worn. Laila braided my hair into a loose and thick bun that was held up by several dozen pins. Finally, under the watchful eye of Miriam, Elise did my makeup. She narrated what she was putting on my face and what it would do for my appearance.

“This toner has a natural papaya exfoliant that will help to brighten your complexion,” she sang as she spritzed a clear liquid onto my face.

“What’s papaya?” I asked as she picked up one of the many bottles on the vanity.

“It’s a fruit. Don’t they have them in Allens?”

“Probably, my family can only usually only afford rice, beans, bread and pasta,” I said shrugging.

“Well I’m sure the palace could get as many papayas as you could eat if you got the Prince to ask,” she giggled.

When my makeup was finished I stood up and looked in the mirror and in the end, I still looked like me. A much better version of the me that entered the palace not even 24 hours ago, but that was aside from the point. Justine and I both agreed that I didn’t want to make it look like I was trying too hard or I would quickly become the least favorite inside and outside of the castle. Before leaving my room, Miriam had me choose my jewelry for the day. There was a golden headband that emulated flowers, a large pair of earrings, golden bands, and several large necklaces.

“You can wear these as statement pieces to perk up your dress,” she said, motioning towards the larger items.

After a heavy scolding, Miriam let me settle for the necklace Justine gave me, a pair of small golden stud earrings, and a gold bracelet. She then laid out a pair of heels covered in rhinestones. The shoes were significantly more comfortable than the ones that I wore last night and the heel was noticeably shorter. Deciding to forgo any form of conflict with Miriam this morning, I put them on gladly. Ten minutes until 8 I was out in the hallway making conversation with Cosette who radiated royalty. She wore an off the shoulder baby blue gown with a layered pearl necklace.

As I looked around the growing group of girls I realized that Miriam had been right when she said everyone would be going for either bright pastels or bold colors. Musichetta Simon came out of her room in what looked to be a plain white wedding dress that glittered when it caught the Sun. Her stylist team had given her at least a foot of red hair extensions that now past her waist. I found myself unable to take my eyes off of her until Claudia came to bring us downstairs.

“Ladies, you all look like you could be princesses this morning,” she said with a frown on her face. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was very upset.

“I would like to point out that only thirty-four of you are joining the Royal Family for breakfast. After supper last night, Miss Lucy decided to neglect the rules and sought out Prince Julien.”

Gasps and whispers immediately overtook the hall. Cosette and I looked at each other and I worried that she was about to cry. Lucy had been one of three Fives selected.

“Please settle down, ladies. Prince Julien had her immediately disqualified from the selection and she was sent home last night. I hope this serves as a lesson to all of you that we take the rules very seriously.”

As she led us downstairs to the Great Hall many girls were giving their opinion on the Lucy situation. Teresa claimed it was a good thing that “the help” had left before the competition even started because it would be shameful for Prince Julien to marry anyone lower than a Three. I looked around the group to see if the other Fives had reacted to what she had said but they were all deep in conversation with other girls. Liberty Cook, a Three that was wheelchair bound from a boating accident when she was younger, said that she had heard the Guards whispering that Lucy claimed to have been tricked by another girl.

I tried to imagine who would already be trying to sabotage the competition this early but the thoughts were immediately pushed out of my head upon entering the Great Hall. There was a small camera crew in the corner waiting to film our first interactions with Prince Julien. We were free to sit wherever we liked, probably because we would be in our seats for a bit. Cosette sat behind me and I decided to sit next to one of the Fives, Alyssa. She smiled and adjusted her large purple skirt.

“Have you ever eaten at a table with so many forks and knives?” She laughed.

“I can definitely say that I’ve never even seen this many forks on a table,” I said looking around for a sign of food.

“Ladies, this morning we will begin our first etiquette lesson. Someone in this room is going to become a princess and she must be able to meet the royal standards for manners. Now, please unfold your napkin and place it on your lap,” Claudia said holding up a cloth napkin and folding it in the air as a guide.

This etiquette lesson was harder than learning any language combined. Periodically Claudia would circle around to Alyssa and me to tell us to straighten our backs and lift our chins. Once I turned around to how Cosette looked and I was immediately intimidated. She handled everything with a grace and ease that made her an obviously strong competitor and a dangerous enemy. If Cosette made her approval of me known then maybe that would allow the Threes and Fours to accept me. Just as I felt my stomach begin to demand food the doors opened to reveal several guards and Prince Julien in tow.

Every girl held her breath and straightened her back when they saw him.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Claudia said, entering a deep curtsey. He responded in a curt head nod.

“Good morning Claudia and good morning ladies,” he said clasping his hands together in front of him.

“If you don’t mind Claudia I would like to address the women of the Selection for a moment before we proceed,” Claudia took a few steps to the left of the room.

“Ladies, I am eagerly awaiting the chance to interact with you all but first I would like to make several brief points. For starters this is not a well fact but I prefer to be addressed by my surname as Claudia can verify it is a certain formality that I practice. Secondly, as I said on the Report I want this to be a caste-blind Selection so please do not reveal yours or another lady’s caste. If you break this rule there is a strong possibility that your time here at the palace will end,” a hushed whisper fell across the room.

Claudia took a step forward and cleared her throat, immediately silencing any noise.

“Now, I will be speaking with all of you one-by-one in private. I’ll try to keep this as brief as possible as I’m sure you’re all anticipating breakfast more than speaking with me,” he joked, walking towards Liberty inviting her over to a few couches in the corner of the room.

“What are we supposed to talk about?” Alyssa said, panic covering her face.

“I’m sure he’ll ask us about how we’re liking the palace so far and let the conversation go from there,” I guessed as Cosette turned around to whisper with us.

We all talked about our rooms, our maids, and our clothes until Enjolras approached Cosette. He met my eyes and to my continuous surprise, smiled at me.

“If the Lady Éponine would permit, may I please borrow Lady Cosette for a few minutes?” He asked.

I tried not to let my jaw hit the floor.

“Luckily for you, Your Highness, the Lady Éponine will permit it,” I said, straightening my back.

He took Cosette’s arm and turned towards the couches and Alyssa hit my arm.

“What was that about?” she demanded, looking visibly hurt.

“I- I don’t know, it was probably just some joke he made because we were all talking,” I stammered, not daring to tell her about our brief encounter.

“Sure,” she said staring at Enjolras and Cosette interacting.

While we watched Cosette smile with her large eyes the camera crew approached the two of us. Alyssa quickly recovered from any distress she may have been experiencing before their presence. They asked us how we were enjoying the palace and Alyssa talked about all the beautiful pieces of art since she herself was a painter. The only thing I could think of was the food, since I couldn’t remember the last time I had a meal like last night.

When Cosette returned from her conversation with Enjolras she looked like she had won the lottery.

“What did you talk about?” Alyssa asked.

“Well we started talking about how beautiful the palace was and we talked about home and how I missed our garden, and he asked me if I’d like to tour the garden before dinner this evening,” she whispered.

Before I could think about congratulating her, I could see a mass of blonde curly hair approaching me and I stood to approach him. I remembered Justine’s advice in the back of my head and after meeting all the girls, I realized how right she was. All of these girls would start with the same strategy, immediately planning on making Enjolras fall in love with them.

“The strongest love happens when you least expect it. I married my best friend,” I remembered her saying as she looked at Victor.

Enjolras held out his arm as we walked towards the couches.

“In case you need help walking in those heels,” he offered.

“Thank you but I am in much more sensible shoes now,” I declined, holding up the skirt of my dress so he could see my short heels.

“I’m surprised you’re not barefoot after your run last night,” he whispered as we sat down.

“I would have come in my slippers but my maids would have thrown a fit,” I laughed.

“How are you getting along with them?” He asked leaning back in his seat.

I hadn’t seen him do that with another girl. Was he comfortable with me because he’d already spoken to me? Or was he comfortable because he had already decided to kick me out?

“Let’s just say that if it weren’t for them I would be sitting here in a nice dress without any makeup and my hair a mess.”

“Good, that’s why we keep them around,” he said absentmindedly. He must have seen my reaction because he quickly scrambled to make up for what he had just said.

“Not that that’s the only reason why we keep them around. Many of our servants have families that they need to support and we have a respectably low turnover rate as our average servant works here for upwards of ten years,” he began to ramble.

“I understand, that’s just how the caste system works. It was just like this in the Old Middle East and many people accepted it,” I said looking at my hands.

“How do you know about that?” Enjolras asked sitting up.

“I’ve read some books on how different religions have affected the structure and function of the government.”

“Well you must know that my views on the caste system do not reflect the current state of Illeá. I’m sure you know that I have invited a group of anti-caste sympathizers to stay in the palace.”

“The Friends of the ABC?”

“Yes, after dinner this evening we’ll be holding a meeting in the Men’s Room. If this is something you’re interested in you are more than welcome to join us,”

“Do you ask every girl to join in your political escapades?”

“No, I’m afraid most girls prefer walks around the garden and bowling.”

The way he said it made it sound like he wasn’t looking forward to his date with Cosette.

“Well everyone came to become your wife, not your political alley. They probably aren’t thinking of the responsibilities of an entire country, they’re just thinking about how they can win over one boy. ”

“You’ve turned out quite different then what I expected Lady Éponine,” he said, writing something on a notepad.

“And what did you expect of me?” I asked as a butler leaned over to whisper something to Enjolras.

“Terribly sorry, but it appears we’ve gone quite a bit over our allotted time,” he said standing to button his maroon waistcoat.

“Will you be answering my question?” I asked, standing.

“Will you be coming to the meeting tonight?” He asked, his face serious.

“I haven’t found a reason not to yet,” I said, locking as with him as I curtsied.

“Then all of your questions will be answered tonight,” he bowed.

As I walked back to my seat I could feel the eyes of the other Selected girls staring at me. I tried to focus solely on Cosette’s beaming face, excited to hear why our conversation ran so long. Alyssa walked past me, not even waiting for Enjolras to approach her. I could see her shake as she curtseyed to him before she sat down on the edge of the couch.

“Well? What did you talk about?” Cosette asked eagerly.

I don’t know what but I felt very compelled to lie to her even though she had been so kind to me. Maybe she secretly remembered me and was waiting until she could use something against me in the competition.

“Oh we just talked about movies and how I’ve never been to a movie theatre. He thought that it was a crime and demanded that we watch a movie together after dinner,” I laughed, realizing that I was shaking.

“Look at us,” Cosette whispered, “we got the first two dates! Oh you must help me pick out the perfect dress for tonight!”

I let Cosette talk about dresses and hair until the last girls had finished their conversations with Enjolras. Alyssa came back beaming, but wouldn’t elaborate on any details. She probably didn’t trust either of us either. Finally, when I had begun to hallucinate the smell of a warm breakfast, Enjolras went to the front of the room.

“Ladies thank you for your patience! Please proceed to the Banquet Room and enjoy your breakfast. If I asked you to stay behind, please remain seated.”

I looked around at the girls that were still sitting and noted that Alyssa was one of them. Maybe it was some special group date with Enjolras during lunch. He did seem pretty eager to make himself busy with us. When we transitioned to the Banquet Room we were greeted by the King and Queen who were reading the morning paper with their coffee. We collectively curtseyed, sat at our assigned seats, and waited for Enjolras to come back.

We stood to curtsey and sat back in our seats, presumably waiting for the other girls to join us. We all waited in silence until the Butlers began to pour orange juice into our glasses.

“He must have sent them home,” Musichetta exclaimed from across the table.

While Cosette looked around the room to count I stared at Enjolras. He was rushing to lather a piece of toast in jam, and appeared unbothered by his elimination.

“There’s twenty-six of us, he sent home eight girls,” Cosette whispered.

#enjonine #enjolras #prince enjolras #eponine #cosette #musichetta #les miserables #les amis #the selection #fanfiction #crossover #cross-posted #ao3 #modern universe

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iliketowrite1996 · 6 years ago

Text

College Days

Okay- I have never written a story like this before, so I did my best! I hope it is good- I want to experiment with different writing types.

Mentions of unrequited love, breaking up, and friendship troubles. second guessing and nervousness. Freshman Year

You are strolling down the sidewalk on our university’s campus, head bopping to the song that is playing that is playing through your headphones.

You are three days into your freshman year, and you already love this place. Your roommate is nice, your dorm is close to a majority of your classes, and you’ve already gotten a head start on next week’s homework. You are relaxing in the moment, relishing the feeling of accomplishment.

Until a dark cloud zooms in and ruins what was an otherwise fantastic day.

Someone bumps into you, spilling your iced coffee down your pristine white shirt.

‘’Cold, cold, cold!,’’ you squeal, watching as the brown liquid soaks into the white fabric.

‘’Miss, I am so sorry. Here, let me help!’’

‘’No, no, that is okay,’’ you sigh, but take the napkins that the strangers offer you.

You suddenly feel a jacket over your shoulders, and you look up to see the young man that gave it to you.

Calling him handsome would be an understatement. His skin is glowing beautifully in the sun, his teeth are beautiful, his eyes are beautiful.

This boy is fine.

‘’My apologies, miss. I did not see where I am going. I can have your shirt cleaned for you if would like.’’

‘’No, no, that’s fine! I got this at the thrift store. I spill on myself all of the time, I have become practically immune to it.’’

You realize that you are wearing his jacket, and attempt to slide it off to give it back to him before he stops you.

‘’Please, take it. It looks good on you Besides, I am about to ask you for a favor: could you please tell me where room Hawthorne Hall 341 is?’’

‘’Do you have English-W 131 with Professor Jenkins? Because that is where I am going.’’

‘’Great!,’’ he says a bit too enthusiastically, ‘’I mean, would you mind if I walked with you?’’

‘’No, not at all. Let’s go.’’

The walk is long, and is, unfortunately filled with silence.

Not the comfortable kind.

The awkward kind.

The kind that has you counting how many steps it takes to get to your destination.

55.

You enter the lecture hall, which can’t seat more than seventy-five people. One of the huge perks of going to a smaller university is that you get more one-on-one time with your professor. And if you're going to graduate in four-five years, you need all the help you can get.

‘’Would you mind if I sat next to you,’’ the young man questions, although the class is nearly empty since you still have fifteen minutes.

‘’No, I don’t mind,’’ you say as you climb to the highest level of seating.

‘’Thank you kindly. My name is T’Challa, by the way. T’Challa Udaku. I know that we did not get to do formal introductions earlier.’’

‘’No we did not. I am Y/N Y/L/N, the girl who is currently wearing your coffee. It smells like vanilla. What a waste.’’

‘’Well, I would not say that it was a waste. I do believe I have made a new friend.’’

From that moment, you knew you were going to enjoy your college experience.

Sophomore Year

You and T'Challa became close after that day. You studied together every Wednesday, did your homework together, and had dinner together once a week. He was your partner for group assignments, he was the one who accompanied you to events where you would have felt awkward going alone.

Well, him and the girl he had initially introduced as his sister- Okoye.

Which is how, after a summer spent apart were the only way to keep in touch was through video chats and messaging.

‘’So why can’t you come see me,’’ you’d pouted when he first video chated you.

‘’You know why, Y/N,’’ he’d laugh.

T’Challa had waited until the very last minute to reveal to you that he was the whole prince of a whole country. He’d wanted to make sure that this was genuine friendship. And when he realized that it was, he’d told you the truth. And you promised not to tell anyone. It was easy, too. For one, you kept your friend group small. There was you, T’Challa, Alyssa, and Anthony. For another thing, T’Challa’s name was known to the world, but not his face. King T’Chaka had taken every precaution to ensure that his son’s privacy could be protected for as long as possible, or until he was ready.

Judging from how well you took the news- after you questioned him for two hours- he figured that’d be soon. And it was. He’d let the story slip, even giving an interview for the journalism club. Still, he kept his friend group small, with just the people he knew liked him for him.

Now, you’re sitting in Anthony’s dorm with T’Challa, Anthony and Alyssa, watching a movie. T’Challa’s back is against your wall as you lounge next to him, feet in his lap. Okoye is on the floor, still under the guise of being T’Challa’s sister. Alyssa is sitting in T’Challa’s chair that is pulled away from his desk, and Anthony is on the floor in front of her as she braids his hair.

Alyssa and Anthony have a very unique friendship, similar to your and T’Challa’s. They’re best friends, but everyone always thinks there is more to it, trying to put them in the ‘’Will They or Won’t They’’ plot line.

You and T’Challa never fell into that. Was there attraction on your part? Of curse. The boy is still fine, and he is definitely growing into himself. He is a good man, and he’s showing that each and every day.

And you know he’s attracted to you, too. You still remember the way he looked at you in your floor length, emerald green dress at the Freshmen Formal earlier this year in May. He’d been your unofficial date, seeing as you , him, Alyssa and Anthony all went in a group. You just spent most of your time dancing with T’Challa, especially since he was graceful during the slow dances.

Right now, he’s currently rubbing your ankles, as you’ve been on your feet all day.

‘’You have got to get some more comfortable shoes. You know you are going to be on your feet all day as a teacher.’’

‘’It’s only one day a week. This is just my internship. I can handle it,’’ you sigh, relaxing into his touch again.

‘’You may cause permanent foot problems, beautiful.’’

It’s not the first time that he’s called you that. But he calls Alyssa that as well. You’re a very tight knit group.

And you’re not jealous when he calls her that.

No, you’re not.

‘’Can you two either shut up or make out,’’ Alyssa asks, ‘’I can’t hear the movie.’’

Okoye, as graceful as she is, chokes on her water, stifling her laughter by burying her face in her arm.

Okoye is always teasing T’Challa about the nature of your relationship with each other, but he doesn’t see it as hostile. Besides, you know it’s coming from a place of love- she does not want T’Challa to get his heart broken with… whatever it is you two have going on here, and you understand.

‘’I mean, Y/N does have nice lips, but I am rather busy rubbing her feet because she doesn’t listen and wears heels to her internship.’’

‘’And T’Challa’s lips are dry,’’ you quip, and he looks at you in faux hurt.

‘’Please. They are never chapped.’’

‘’I’m looking at them right now, boo.’’

‘’For the love of… just date already,’’ Anthony jokes, using the line T’Challa had used on him and Alyssa just weeks prior.

It’s not that you haven’t entertained the thought of dating T’Challa. Who wouldn't’? He’s sweet, he’s smart, he is involved. He is currently treasure of the Black Student Union, he volunteers at the homeless shelter, he is always on the Dean’s List.

‘’It’s getting late. Maybe Y/N and I should be getting back to our dorm. We can always finish the movie tomorrow. Besides- it’s boring,’’ Alyssa shrugs, never one to hesitate and hold back what she is thinking.

‘’I will walk with you. Okoye, I trust that you are heading back to your apartment?’’

‘’I am,’’ Okoye says, knowing that this means T’Challa is relieving her of her duties for the time being, ‘’I shall see you all soon. Good night.’’

You say your goodbye’s, and T’Challa escorts you and Alyssa to your dorm.

She stays on the first floor of the building, and you on the second in your single bedroom dorm. So after T’Challa and you say goodnight to her, he walks you to yours.

‘’I hope that it did not make you feel uncomfortable,’’ he tells you as you stop outside of your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket.

‘’No, no, you did not. I understand- I know that we’re just friends. People just like to joke, tough, Why, does it make you uncomfortable?’’

‘’No, no, not at all. To be attached to a woman who is so beautiful and smart? How could that be a bad thing, Y/N?’’

‘’Stop,’’ you laugh, staring at him, ‘’You don’t have to say stuff like that. I am already your friend.’’

‘’I only speak he truth,’’ he stuffs his hands into his pockets, ‘’You know I'm attracted to you.’’

‘’And I to you, T’Challa.’’

‘’So , the real question, I guess is this: ‘Are we going to do something about it?.’’

That throws you, because that question can carry so many different meanings. And you don’t know what it means to him, but you know what it means to you. You want to be more than friends, and yet you don’t. You want something complex and something simple. But relationships are never ever simple.

So, essentially, what you hear when he asks that question is: ‘’Is it worth giving this a shot, no matter the outcome?’’

‘’Come here,’’ you take his hand, guiding him into your dorm room, where he sits on the couch pressed against your wall.

‘’T’Challa,’’ you sigh, sitting down in your desk chair and facing him, ‘’You know I care about you. But you are one of my best friends, and I’d hate to lose you.’’

‘’You would not lose me, Y/N. You know that I would not treat you any differently if we tried to see where this led and it did not work out.’’

‘’I know. I’m worried that you’d see me differently, or that I’d see you differently. I don’t want to lose this friendship,’’ you stress, and he nods.

‘’Alright. I would not want to try to convince you of something that you don't want. Are we going to be okay?’’

‘’We are,’’ you promise, giving him a hug when he stands, ‘’I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast?’’

‘’I would not miss it,’’ T’Challa grins genuinely, ‘’I will see you at the diner at ten.’’

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and for a brief moment you wish he’d press one to your lips.

And you almost take the initiative and kiss him when he pulls away, staring into your y/e/c eyes with his deep, brown ones.

But you don’t. Instead, you let him out, demanding that he messages you when he gets back to his dorm.

And you try not to wonder if you made the right choice.

The next day, you meet T’Challa at your favorite diner. You go there every Saturday morning to catch up, decompress from the week, and to get some homework done together. T’Challa is a Political Science major and you’re an Education major, but it works. He lets you practice lessons on him, you proofread his papers, and he has even asked if you’d ever consider working abroad.

‘’I would. Maybe you, Alyssa, Anthony and I can study abroad senior year,’’ you say as you take another sip of your orange juice, ‘’It’d be fun.’’

Before he can answer, Tessa Atkins, a girl from your and T’Challa’s English class last year, glides over.

‘’Hey, T’Challa.’’

‘’Hello, Y.N,’’ she says to you, but without the same flirtatious tone she’d use don T’Challa. It wasn’t mean, just different.

You’d definitely noticed her attraction to T’Challa last year. It was there before she found out that he is a prince, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel just a tinge of jealousy.

Just a tinge.

‘’I’ll call you later to discuss our plans. Bye, y'all,’’ she sashays away, and you turn to T’Challa in confusion.

‘’Plans? What plans?’’

‘’Oh, she asked me to accompany her to the movie night on campus,’’ T’Challa explains.

‘’You’re going on a date?’’

‘’If you would like to call it that,’’ he shrugs, ‘’I Haven't dated a lot. You know this. Nakia was my first and last girlfriend before I moved here. I am not so sure that this is a date. I think that we are just hanging out.’’

‘’The way you hang out with me,’’ you ask, stressing the last word in effort to convert what you are really trying to ask.

He looks up at you then, seeing the meaning of your questions in your eyes, ‘’No. It is different.’’

And he changes the subject, so you leave it at that.

But it stays burning in your mind for the rest of the day.

It’s three months later that they start dating, and you’ve never been more grateful for Christmas/Holiday/Winter break in your life/. You retreat back home, spend your time with friends from home and working to raise extra money for the next semester. The calls between you and T’Challa are becoming less frequent, and you know that you have no right to be feeling the way that you do.

You’re the one that told him that it wouldn’t work, and you still believe that.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you’d just taken the change.

And yet it does.

And you’re confused.

You’re happy for him, but also hurt, and you're still trying to figure out how that can be.

‘’Y/N, are you okay?,’’ your coworker, Justin, asks.

‘’I am,’’ you insist, clearing a table, ‘’I’m fine.’’

‘’You’ve been acting like this for the whole day. You literally just put the napkin holder in the bin,’’ he tells you, and you sigh, moving to the next table after placing the metal napkin holder back on the table.

‘’I just have a lot on my mind,’’ you shrug, and you wish he’d let it go.

He does not.

‘’Well, maybe you and I can hang out tonight. Go to dinner. It always helps to talk about your feelings.’’

You tell him you’ll think about it.

Mull it over for the rest of your shift.

Agree.

Three weeks later, you’re heading back to school with a boyfriend.

Conversations between you and T’Challa pick up on conversations, and things are back to how they used to be.

Sort of.

You don’t spend much time together, but you have dinner together every Wednesday and do homework together on Thursday’s.

Justin takes the train to see you every weekend, and you double date with T’Challa and Tessa. It’s nice, though, because you and T’Challa are still friends, he’s happy, and you’re happy.

You’re content.

You hope things can stay this nice.

Junior Year

And they do. You’re in love and it is nice and amazing and strange and wonderful and terrifying.

It’s a whirlwind of emotions that you don’t really want to end.

But it does, when he visits you for the last time to break up with you in person, saying that he feels like you two aren’t clicking anymore.

That your heart isn’t in it anymore.

And he’s right.

Because it isn’t.

Which is how you find yourself at T’Challa’s apartment, thirty minutes away from campus. It’s the October of your junior year of college, and tomorrow would’ve been your ten month anniversary with Justin.

Now, you’re lying across T’Challa’s bed with him as you both listen to a playlist of your favorite songs, reflecting back on heart breaks.

‘’This really hurts,’’ you laugh sadly, sniffling as T’Challa brings a hand up to rub your shoulder comfortingly, your head on his own shoulder, ‘’It sucks.’’

‘’I know,’’ he sighs, ‘’Breakups are never easy. But fear not. We have a long weekend due to fall break. We can sit here and listen to music and watch movies.’’

You laugh then, genuinely, and long and loud. He laughs, too, and it’s nice just to not feel the weight of everything else for a little while.

It’s three weeks later that you are taking T’Challa ice skating for the first time, laughing as he falls to the ice.

‘’Are you alright?’’

‘’I am. You may laugh now, Y/N, but you will not when I am the Black Panther. I will have grace and agility,’’ he smirks, leaning on you for support as you help him to stand.

‘’For someone who’s never skated before, you are doing fairly well.’’

It’s a nice way to calm down, enjoying Thanksgiving break since neither of you went back home. Instead, you had a turkey dinner with him yesterday, and he made you the same pastries that his mother, Ramonda, often makes for him when he is home for the summer.

‘’You look beautiful under these fluorescent lights,’’ he tells you, and you burst out laughing as he takes your hand again, letting him guide you around the rink.

‘’Thank you. I’m still going to laugh at you if you fall.’’

And fall he does.

Right on top of you.

Talk about awkward.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he apologized, bracing himself against the ice to roll off of you, ‘’Maybe we should take a break? We can get something warm to drink?’’

‘’Yeah, that sounds nice.’’

Even though you kind of wanted that moment to last a little bit longer.

You find yourself rushing into T’Challa’s apartment, soaked from the freezing cold, November rain.

‘’You can get undressed in the bathroom. I will get you a shirt to borrow, then take our stuff downstairs to get them dried.’’

‘’Thank you, T’Challa,’’ you slip into his bathroom, pulling off your soaking wet clothes.

Sure enough, he leaves a pair of his pajamas for you outside of the bathroom door, which you slip into.

He takes your clothes downstairs before returning with a pizza, ‘’I ran next door to that pizzeria. Got your favorite. I will take care of dinner tonight.’’

‘’Such a gentleman,’’ you smile, taking some glasses down and preparing for dinner.

And falling even more in love with this man.

‘’Are you going to be alright,’’ T’Challa asks, referring the scene you’d witnessed earlier.

It was Tessa arriving at the skating rink with her new boyfriend on her arm.

That new boyfriend?

None other than Justin.

Because that’s salt in your wound.

You’d been okay, but you wanted to leave. He still hasn't talked to you since the break up, and you didn’t really feel up to conversing with him at the moment.

Unfortunately, the bus to T’Challa’s apartment would not be arriving for another hour, so you two walked. Then, it started to rain. Hard. Hence why you are now spending the night at T’Challa’s apartment.

‘’I am. I mean, it hurt a little bit at first, but I’m over it now. I’m fine,;; you shrug, laying your head on T’Challa’s shoulder, ‘’You?’’

‘’I am. What Tessa and I had may be over, but I’ve still got you. So I would say that I am the real winner in the situation.’’

There’s silence then as you both chew on the pizza, listening to the rain and thunder outside.

He places a kiss to your forehead, like he always does, but this time when he pulls away, you pull him back in.

Your eyes ask for permission, and he nods, as if he can read his mind.

You're learning in further and further until…

You hear the door opening, and you find yourself both wishing Okoye would have stayed out longer and silently thanking her before you ruined your friendship with T’Challa.

This was one of those moments that got away from you.

And you spend the rest of your night what would have happened if all of the events of the day had happened just a few seconds sooner.

The rest of the semester is pretty uneventful. You study together, he gets good grades, you get good grades. You hang out with Anthony and Alyssa, and he promises to call you over Christmas break. He does, you make plans to hang out as soon as you’re back on campus.

When you do meet up again, you have a two hour catch up session. He tells you all about Shuri and her latest antics, about his mother and dad. You talk to him about your family and things happening back home. He also asks you to the school’s winter fundraiser dance as friends, and you accept.

‘’You look incredible,’’ T’Challa tells you, admiring you in your black, floor length, long sleeved dress.

‘’What, this old thing,,’’ you joke, attempting to stop your heart from beating as fast as it is.

Because T’Challa looks amazing in his tux as he takes you back to your door, hand in yours,

As friends.

That’s all you are.

You constantly have to remind yourself of that.

The hall is pretty empty, with most people out on a lovely, January, Saturday night.

‘’Hey… can we talk for a moment?’’

He turns to you, nodding, and letting you lead him into your single bed dorm.

And that’s where it happens. There’s no epic moment, no birds, no music, no rain. You can hear the old school music your neighbors are playing, and you can hear the couple next on the other side of you loudly playing Monopoly.

But you don’t care. Because you’re in the middle of the dorm room, with T’Challa’s lips on yours, his hands on your waist as he pulls you closer to his body.

‘’I thought you wanted to talk,’’ he breathes out before bringing his lips back to yours.

‘’Later, We’ll talk later,’’ you sigh, then pull him back into the kiss.

And the moment is perfect.

It’s wonderful.

It’s hot and romantic and long awaited and you’re not sure why you were so hesitant to give this a chance.

Because his lips are made for yours and you’re sure.

‘’Wait, what does this mean,’’ T’Challa asks breathing heavily as he rests his forehead against yours, ‘’Are we together now?’’

In a way, you feel like you always have been. He’s always been there for you, and you for him. Timing was never right, and you were never opened to this idea until now.

Because he’s your best friend when your worlds apart, he’s your best friend when you're right next to each other, and he’d continue to be your best friend even if this didn’t work out.

So the real question is this: Are you ready to dive in?

Senior Year

Time changes.

People change.

Minds change.

Like the seasons, most things are not permanent. Unlike the seasons, people don’t always work how you expect them to.

Which is why it’s a surprise to you in the May of your junior year when Justin returns, asking you to get back together.

What’s not a surprise is when T’Challa is approached my Tessa, who makes the same request in the August of your senior year.

It's no surprise that this leads to both you and T’Challa screaming at each other, crying, voices breaking and resolves shaking.

It’s not a surprise that you don’t speak to him for quite a while, and he doesn't speak to you, until Okoye lets you both know that you are being difficult and need to talk.

It is a surprise when you’re laughing with him again, and it’s just like old times. You wipe the It’s not a surprise that you can feel graduation fast approaching, and neither of you have decided what to do about the situation.

It’s not a surprise that life happens, and that you and T’Challa don’t really talk about the situation until it’s almost too late.

You weigh all of the reasons that it could work- you’re good together, you like each other, you’re attracted, you really care about each other.

You weigh all of the reasons that it could not work- he’ll be moving back to Wakanda, Tessa and Justin are still people you have strong feelings for, timing has never been right for you too, it seems like it won’t work.

So, with a month left until graduation, you make your choice.

And you both try not to second guess where it leaves you too.

Graduation Day

You're walking the stone path one last time, relishing in all of the memories that you made on this campus. Some good, some bad. It’s where you where when T’Challa got news that his parents could make it to graduation. It’s where you found out that you got hired for that teaching job. It’s where you found your heart. It’s where you broke it. It’s where you had so many firsts and lasts.

‘’Babe,’’ your boyfriend pipes up, ‘’Graduation is beginning in thirty minutes. We need to line up.’’

‘’Coming, honey,’’ you sigh, taking his hand and letting him lead you back to the arena.

‘’I must go take my spot. But I will see you as soon as this is over,’’ he presses a kiss to your lips, ‘’I love you.’’

‘’I love you, too.’’

You are not sure what the future holds.

You don’t even know what tomorrow holds.

All you know is that you have the love of your life, T’Challa Udaku by your side, so you will take things as they come. And he’s got you.

And you’re so thankful for the day that he spilled coffee on you.

And for the day that you decided to take a chance and dive in.

DISCLAIMER- I own none of the Marvel Characters or any fictional worlds- they belong to their rightful and respectful owners.

#black panther imagine #black panther #black panther x you #t'challa udaku #t'challa x reader #t'challa x you #t'challa #tchalla x reader #reader insert #reader #imagines

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

Text

wingwomen chapter 5 (trixya, shalaska) - lale

I can’t even explain how much the response to this fic has meant to me! Thank you for spurring me on to write so much this week. Stay tuned…I think this has one more chapter in it.

Queen of the snakes 🐍: Trixie!!!

Queen of the snakes 🐍: where are you???

Queen of the snakes 🐍: PLESAE TRIXIE

[missed call from Queen of the snakes 🐍]

Queen of the snakes 🐍: did you leave??

Queen of the snakes 🐍: please dont overreact to this trix!!

***

Trixie threw her phone aside, sniffling. She sat on the grass in Laganja’s yard, trying her best to hold back tears. She’d found a quiet spot far away from the group of smokers, claiming her own space to have her meltdown in private.

Of course Katya liked Alaska more than Trixie. She’d been so stupid, rushing into their plan headfirst without stopping to think about the possibility that even if she could manage to change Sharon’s mind about Alaska and the rest of the cheerleaders, that didn’t mean that Katya would like her. She’d gotten so caught up in the whirlwind of everything that was going on, making friends with Sharon and watching Alaska and Katya get closer, thrilled that everything seemed to be working – and now it had come back around to smack her in the face.

“Stupid,” she muttered to herself, doing her best to wipe away her tears without ruining her makeup. She wasn’t sure why she was trying so hard to preserve it – the night was already ruined, so what reason did she have to worry about her makeup? She looked down at her dress, sniffing as she smoothed the fabric down over her thighs. Just an hour ago she’d been standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom, twirling for herself and reveling in the sight of herself in her favourite pink dress, hair curled to perfection and makeup impeccable. She’d felt on top of the world; right now, she just wanted to sink through the floor and never emerge again.

Someone sat down beside her, and she tried to swallow back her sobs. Maybe it was Kim, or Pearl, or even Alyssa or Shangie; someone who she could cry to without feeling embarrassed. As long as it wasn’t Alaska. She didn’t think she could face her right then.

“Privyet, Barbie,” Katya said, her smile softer than Trixie had ever seen. Trixie blinked at her in surprise.

“Oh. Hello. Sorry, I’m such an idiot,” she said, ducking her head to try and mask the inevitable streaks in her makeup that her tears had caused.

“No,” Katya replied calmly, shifting closer in the grass until she was sat almost directly in front of her. Trixie thought she was even more beautiful this close up, her pale ivory skin lit up in the dusky night air. Trixie quickly looked away, feeling even more embarrassed. How could she have been stupid enough to think a girl this amazing, beautiful and charming and funny, could ever want her?

“You and Sharon are friends now, yes?” Katya said, eyes still fixed on Trixie.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t think she hates me anymore, anyway,” Trixie said, sniffling. Katya reached out towards her, one hand lightly cupping Trixie’s jaw. Her thumb rubbed against her cheek, the touch immediately filling her face with heat.

“She does not hate you. She hates all the cheerleaders before! But she still sits and watches you every single day. So I say, Katya, why does she watch these girls if she hates them? I have to find out!” Katya said, her thumb still rubbing at Trixie’s cheek. She realized that she was rubbing away her tear tracks, carefully blending her makeup in again.

“And did you find out?” Trixie asked. She was too confused by what was going on to do anything but go along with Katya’s story.

“Da! She watch you all, but she watch Alaska the most. Why? Ah! I realise! She has ginormous, crazy crush!” Katya explained. Her eyes danced as she talked, as if she was doing her best to make the story as entertaining as possible.

“She did? Even before we started talking?” Trixie asked, surprised. She hadn’t thought that Sharon had even given any of them a second thought before Trixie had forced her into friendship.

“Stupid, ridiculous crush. So, I sit with her and we watch the cheerleaders. I did not mind. I like watching beautiful girl too,” Katya said. Trixie looked away again. She didn’t want to hear the rest of this story if it was going to be a re-telling of how Katya had fallen for Alaska, too. “Then Alaska starts to talk to me, and I realise this is my chance! I make friends with Alaska, and you were making friends with Sharon, make her realise cheerleaders are not all bitches. Perfect! I can tell Alaska all great things about Sharon, and then they fall in love! Because of me!” Katya continued animatedly. She switched hands, gently wiping away Trixie’s tears. “But then I realise big, big flaw in genius plan.”

“And what was that?” Trixie asked. That you fell for Alaska too? You realized you didn’t want Sharon to have her?

“I forget about me!” Katya replied, throwing her free hand up in the air dramatically. “I want Sharon and Alaska to fall in love and then I get pretty Barbie doll’s number. Stupid plan! I should forget Sharon and Alaska and just talk to Barbie, instead.”

Trixie’s gaze snapped back to Katya, looking at her in surprise. “What?” she said, fumbling to get any words out. “What do you mean?”

Katya’s smile turned almost shy. “I did not think what we would seem like, to you and Sharon. My genius plan was really dumb plan! I never wanted to make you cry. Will you forgive me, Trixie?” she said. Her accent drew Trixie’s name out, making it sound more like two words. ‘Trix-ee’. She’d never liked her name as much as when Katya said it.

“I – you think I’m pretty?” she said, dumbfounded. Katya gave her an incredulous look.

“Maybe it is you who is dumb, Trixie!” she said, her smile stretching back out into a grin. “There! Perfect,” she announced, pulling her hand back from Trixie’s face. She missed her touch instantly. Katya took her phone out of her pocket, opening her camera app and switching it to its front camera with a deft tap of her fingers. “See? Beautiful!” Katya said proudly, holding her phone up in front of Trixie’s face. She’d blended Trixie’s make up in perfectly; her eyes were still a little red, but the rest of her face looked as flawless as when she’d left the house earlier that evening.

“Woah,” Trixie said, blinking at herself before looking at Katya again. She smiled up at her, and got a beaming grin in return. Katya put her phone down on the grass beside them, then leaned forward to kneel over Trixie, almost in her lap. Trixie looked up at her; with Katya’s petite, lithe body leaning over hers, crazy braids dangling past her shoulders, she could barely believe what was going on. Katya thought she was pretty? She liked her? But –

“You kissed Alaska. I saw you,” she said cautiously. She’d already had her heartbroken by letting herself get caught up in the idea that Katya could like her once. She wasn’t going to let herself fall again quite so easily.

“Is nothing! I am excited at what she said,” Katya explained, her expression utterly earnest. Trixie chewed her lower lip; sometimes it was hard to tell when Katya was telling the truth – normally when she was telling them some crazy story about her life back in Russia – but right then it was difficult to think she could be lying.

“What was she saying?” Trixie asked. Katya shifted above her, and there was that shy smile again. Even in Trixie’s uncertainty, it felt like her heart melted slightly at that sweet smile.

“She made me promise,” she said.

“Promise what?”

“I want her to talk to Sharon. She says yes, if I ask you out,” Katya admitted. Trixie felt heat rise in her cheeks, and Katya’s smile grew. She cupped the side of Trixie’s face in one hand again, and she couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “So cute,” Katya said softly.

“You want to ask me out?” Trixie asked, her incredulity clear in her voice.

“Will you say yes?” Katya asked, her thumb brushing over the edge of Trixie’s bottom lip. She swallowed hard, looking into Katya’s eyes.

“Yes,” she said honestly. She thought she understood in that moment how Sharon had felt about them trying to make friends with her – it all seemed too good to be true, and she was terrified that it was going to fall apart any second.

Instead, Katya just grinned at her, carefully sliding her free hand around to settle on the back of Trixie’s neck. Her fingers tickled at the hair at the nape of her neck, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “Trix-ieee,” Katya said, leaning in closer until there was barely an inch of space between their lips. She smelt of cigarettes and perfume, a smell which Trixie could never have imagined she’d like. On Katya, it was intoxicating. “Will you go on date with me, pretty Barbie girl?”

“Yes,” Trixie breathed, her voice almost a moan. She hadn’t even had a drink yet but she felt drunk, intoxicated by Katya.

“Mm,” Katya hummed, so close that Trixie could feel the sound as much as hear it. As Katya closed her eyes, her eyelashes brushed against Trixie’s hypersensitive skin. Katya pressed their lips together in a slow, tender kiss, and it was all Trixie could do to wind her arms around her and cling on for dear life. It was nothing like the slapstick, brief kiss she’d seen Katya plant on Alaska earlier – now, she felt stupid for even imagining that that could mean anything. How could it now that she knew that Katya could kiss like this?

Trixie had kissed her share of people over the years – a few guys, back when she was trying to figure out her sexuality, and then a couple of girls since then. She’d had nice kisses, sweet kisses at the end of dates and makeout sessions when someone’s parents were out. None of those kisses were anything like this. She sighed against Katya’s soft, full lips, her mouth opening against them to deepen the kiss. Katya shifted until she was fully settled in Trixie’s lap, her slight weight against Trixie’s and her ass nestled against her thighs. Trixie’s arms around her middle squeezed involuntarily, eliminating any space remaining between them.

“Katya,” she moaned against her lips, her eyes peeking open. Katya had a blissed out expression on her face, and she closed the gap between them again to nibble lightly at Trixie’s lower lip.

“Trix-ieee,” she replied, her own voice a little hoarse. She made a captivating sight, lips a little puffy and eyes still closed, showing off her perfect eye makeup. Trixie leaned up, pressing their lips together again. Katya opened her mouth to the kiss eagerly, making a purring noise in the back of her throat as Trixie’s fingers nudged at the edge of her dress. She spread the flat of her palm over the soft flesh of Katya’s thigh, skimming upwards slowly. “Tease,” Katya groaned, fingers threading into Trixie’s hair.

Trixie didn’t know how long they stayed there, trading languid kisses. The sky got darker above them until she could barely see Katya’s features; she didn’t care. She felt addicted, each kiss giving her a heady rush and leaving her desperate for more. It was like she was in heaven; she never wanted the moment to end.

She was brought crashing back to her senses by the bright, blinding light of an iPhone flashlight shining directly at them. Katya squeaked, practically tumbling out of her lap in surprise as Trixie brought her hands up to shield her eyes. “What the fuck?” she said, putting an arm out to try to block the light and see who’d found them.

***

“What the fuck?” Alaska said, taken totally by surprise. She’d been looking for Trixie for over an hour, searching every room in Laganja’s house before venturing into the yard. It was already dark at that point, and she’d struggled to distinguish who was who in the groups of people gathered outside, smoking and laughing. Katya had dashed after Trixie before Alaska could even react, slowed down by the half dozen drinks she’d had since she arrived at the party. She hadn’t spotted either of them on her search of the house, even as her mind cleared.

As time passed, the worry in her stomach had worsened, making her feel sick to her stomach. She hadn’t done anything, really – except maybe forget the whole reason she’d set out to make friends with Katya in the first place. Trixie had always been such a good friend to her, putting up with her stupid, stupid crush on Sharon all year and always doing her best to help her. And she’d repaid her by hurting her.

She hadn’t meant to, of course. If only Trixie knew the circumstances, that that stupid kiss had only happened because Katya was so damn excited by the idea that Trixie liked her. Alaska had been so proud of herself, and then everything had crumbled around them.

Except maybe it hadn’t. Finally, after stumbling around in the dark yard for a while before remembering that her phone had a flashlight built it, here she was, stood in front of Trixie and Katya. There was no doubt over what had happened: she could see traces of Trixie’s signature pink lipstick smeared around Katya’s mouth, and Trixie’s lipstick was smudged, hair in disarray.

“Do you have to blind us?” Trixie said, reaching out to try and grab at Alaska’s phone. She moved it to her side, the flashlight illuminating the grass at their feet enough that she could still see their faces without blinding them.

“Sorry,” she said. Katya, apparently recovered from the shock of Alaska interrupting them, resituated herself in Trixie’s arms. Still looking at Alaska, Trixie absentmindedly looped her arms around her, a giggle escaping her lips when Katya pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I see you two sorted things out, then?” Alaska said, smirking.

“I think so,” Trixie said, a dopey smile on her face as her gaze shifted to Katya. Katya beamed back, looking at her as if she was the only person in the world.

“Da,” she agreed, brushing her fingers through Trixie’s hair lightly. When a long moment passed without either of them looking away, Alaska cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly. Trixie finally tore her eyes away from Katya, having the grace to look sheepish.

“Sorry about before. I think Sharon had me convinced…I was being stupid,” she said, shaking her head.

“What was Sharon saying?” Alaska asked, frowning. Katya had gone back to pressing kisses to Trixie’s cheek, undeterred by Alaska’s presence.

“She was being super moody. Talking about how the two of you had lady boners for each other,” Trixie said, blushing furiously when Katya moved her kisses to her neck.

“What the fuck?” Alaska said, taken aback. What on earth would make Sharon think that? Why would she even care, anyway? Alaska knew Sharon didn’t like her – why would it even bother her if she had a thing for Katya?

More to the point, what right did she have to say any of that to Trixie? It was as if she’d been trying to hurt her.

“Alaskaaa,” Katya said, snapping her out of her thoughts. She was looking up at her, a vaguely amused expression on her face. “I keep promise. You go talk to Sharon now, yes?”

Alaska looked around. In the distance, far away from anyone else at the party,

she could see a pale, slender figure, her halo of messy blonde hair lit up by the glow of a cigarette held in her hand.

“Yeah, okay,” Alaska agreed, turning off the light on her phone. No need to give Sharon the chance to run away. She’d ditched Alaska any chance she got, made it clear she had no interest in getting to know her, and now she’d upset her best friend. Alaska wasn’t going to let her get away from her so easily this time. “Yeah. I’ll fucking talk to her.”

#alaska thunderfuck #sharon needles #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #shalaska #cisgirl au #lale #rpdr fanfiction #submission #wingwomen #high school au #lesbian au

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