#and if anyone else wants to go crazy with me about chapter sixty seven well!!! you know where i am!!!

[pocketramblr]

I would do anything to save her.

This was supposed to just be drawing the Taoden siblings hugging a bunch but ah guess that Falin as the tower/princess/dragon post got into my head too much

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Sixty Seven

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

May 14th, 1998

“Hey, Toby?” Remy asked.

“Yeah?” Toby asked, glancing up from his homework. “What’s up?”

“You’ll still like me after you go off to college, right?” Remy asked. “Like, Vanessa left and she’s gotten way more distant. Not that we were close in the first place, but I don’t want that to happen to us. You’re my best friend.”

“Rem, I’ll never stop loving you, not for anything,” Toby said. “College is going to take up a lot of my time, but I can write when possible, and whenever breaks come around we’ll have plenty of time to hang out just the two of us. I won’t ever stop being your brother, understand?”

“Yeah,” Remy said. “Thanks, Tobes.”

  July 10th, 2002

Remy was walking down the street, humming under his breath as he wandered around. Work had let him off early, and rather than call Emile, he decided he would walk around and explore the city a bit. Currently, he was walking around the southwestern part of the city, which was maybe the farthest away from the college, so he hadn’t had much reason to be down here before.

As he was walking down the street, a familiar mop of curly hair caught Remy’s eye from the window of a small café. Remy slowed down and paused. Emile hadn’t said anything about what he was doing today, and Remy had no idea he might be in this part of the city. He was about to go in and say hi when he saw Emile’s expression darken and he looked...not angry, but certainly not pleased. Whoever he was sitting with placed their hands face up on the table at either side, clearly trying to placate him. Emile rolled his eyes and grumbled something, hands making wide gestures.

Remy felt frozen in place as he watched this person put their hand on Emile’s shoulder. Emile sighed and had a certain longing on his face, a longing that Remy recognized from when Emile talked about his crush on Remy. It was lovestruck crossed with melancholy. But why would he have that look talking to a random stranger?

...What if they weren’t a random stranger? Someone that Emile knew that Remy didn’t? That would make sense, because Emile had friends from before college and they sometimes came to visit. But that still didn’t explain the longing on his face.

Remy decided to investigate. He walked to the door and walked in, calling, “Emile! Hey!”

Emile jumped, startled, and looked over at Remy with wide eyes. He almost looked...guilty? “Hey, Rem!” Emile exclaimed. “Grab a seat!”

Remy walked over and sat at one of the free chairs at the table. “Who’s this?” he asked, nodding to the stranger.

“This is Dice. My friend from high school, remember?” Emile asked, glancing between Dice and Remy.

“Oh! What brings you here?” Remy asked, turning to Dice.

“Just visiting Emile here, giving him some updates as to what I’ve been doing, him doing the same, you know, catch-up stuff,” Dice said.

Remy nodded, keeping a neutral smile on his face, though something in his gut told him that Dice was lying. Remy turned back to Emile, who was looking nervous under Remy’s trained gaze. “So, Dice, you keep in touch with Faith, too?”

Dice froze for just a second before he nodded. “Well, yeah, of course I do. I travel all the time, but I make it a point to visit all my friends across the eastern coast. Faith included.”

But Faith wasn’t studying by the coast, Emile had told Remy as much. “What’s really going on here, guys?” Remy asked. “Because Dice, I know you’re lying, and Emile, you look guilty as hell.”

A pregnant silence hung over them. “Your friend’s sharp, Mister Thomas,” Dice said.

Emile scratched the back of his neck. “All right, Rem, you got me. Dice is...uh...” Emile looked at Dice. “Well, I’m a client of his.”

“A...client?” Remy asked, brows furrowing. “You’re not...like...sleeping with him?”

Emile choked on the sip of tea he was trying to hide behind, and Dice snorted. Remy turned to Dice, getting no response. “Look, I know you’re not his high school friend, so who are you?!”

“Not a prostitute, I’ll tell you that much right now,” Dice said with an irritated scowl.

“Well, how am I supposed to know who you are?!” Remy asked. “Emile lied about how he knows you!”

Emile winced. “Remy—”

“—No, Emile, you lied about who he was! I don’t want to hear another word from you if it’s not the truth!” Remy said, crossing his arms.

“I’m a private investigator,” Dice sighed. “Your friend here hired me to find someone; missing persons are my specialty.”

Remy frowned. “First of all, he’s not just my friend. He’s my boyfriend,” he corrected. “However pissed I may be at him, I’m sticking with him. Second of all, who are you looking for? From what I understand, Emile kept in touch with all of his high school friends the best he could. And those who he still emails have contact with his other friends, so they’re all still connected. It’s not some long lost flame, is it? Because Emile had that look in his eyes he gets when he’s struck with the love bug, and I get I’m not the best person in the world, but I would have thought that I’d be enough for Emile?”

“Remy!” Emile interjected. “I’m not trying to find anyone I’ve had a previous relationship with, and I’m certainly not trying to cheat on you whatsoever!”

“Then what’s with this clandestine meeting?!” Remy asked, throwing his hands in the air. “Because it certainly looks like something suspicious is going on!”

“You’re Remy Picani?” Dice asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“...Yes?” Remy asked. He didn’t know why all his instincts were suddenly screaming at him to be on guard, but they were. “Why?”

“Any relations to a particular...Tobias Picani?” Dice asked, a grin slowly growing on his face.

Remy’s heart stopped, before leaping into overdrive. “Toby?” he asked softly. He turned to Emile in shock. “You’re trying to find Toby?”

“...Yeah,” Emile said. “I didn’t want to tell you yet because Dice and I haven’t gotten any leads, but—”

Emile stopped short as Remy wrapped his arms around Emile in a hug. Tears were coming to his eyes. “Well, now I feel like an ass,” he whispered, starting to laugh.

“You did get pretty worked up,” Emile laughed.

Remy pulled back and lightly slugged Emile. “So, no leads?” he asked.

“No,” Dice said. “I haven’t been able to find even a trace of an Internet trail. The best I have is a couple possible schools he went to. Honestly, I haven’t ever seen a case like this where there isn’t some sort of stalker involved.”

Oh. The pieces clicked into place and Remy groaned. “Jamie,” he breathed. “Of course. She fits that whole ‘stalker’ stereotype to a T. And Toby’s been having trouble with her since his freshman year of college.”

“This Jamie have a last name?” Dice asked.

“Uh...” Remy wracked his brain. “King. Jamie King. And Toby went to...some art school I don’t know the name of, but was pretty infamous in the area, you can probably find it. Toby got Jamie kicked out of the college when she threatened to stab him if they didn’t get back together, and continued to leave threats outside his door...daily, really. She wasn’t exactly the most sane person you would ever meet. Toby wanted nothing to do with her, and I don’t think she knows where he is...”

“But she’s a piece of the puzzle we didn’t have before, and it might help us find your brother,” Dice said. “I’ve been trying to get your boyfriend here to prod about Toby and pass on any information he gets to me, but according to him, you would have seen through any lie he told in seconds. And given this conversation, I’m inclined to believe him.”

Remy scoffed. “Yeah, Emile’s a terrible liar,” he said, shaking his head. “And Emile, you could have just told me you were looking for Toby in the first place, I would have been able to help!”

“I just didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Emile said. “Dice has been working on this for two months now and we’ve come up with nothing, until you walked in the door.”

Remy sighed. “Look, Emile, I respect that, but you’re still dumb as rocks,” he said. “And possibly in need of a reevaluation of your boyfriend, here? Because I’ve been mellowing out a lot more, and finding my footing way better over the past couple of months. I’ve had my moments, sure, but I’m not the surly, cynical crybaby you met in college. I’m still kinda cynical, sure, but I cry less, and I don’t think any of our friends would describe me as ‘surly’ at all. I’ve changed over the years; I’m not going to be destroyed if we can’t find Toby. It’ll hurt if we don’t, sure, but I think we could actually do it, with time. And I won’t ask to come to the meetings, because I know that would be hard on me, but if you guys have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, you know? I’d answer any questions you have if it means finding Toby. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

Dice turned to Emile. “You really need to reevaluate your boyfriend, Mister Thomas. He seems vastly different than how you described him to me. Granted, I only asked how he behaved when you first met, and that’s on me, but if you think he’s at all fragile...”

“I know he’s not fragile,” Emile sighed. “Still doesn’t mean I won’t try and protect him if I think he’s gonna get hurt.”

Remy shook his head. “Emile...I’m glad you’re doing this. And I’m glad you were trying to look out for me. But do you think you could consult me next time you come up with a crazy plan like this one? Nothing against what you’ve done, but I’d be able to help you.”

“Okay, I’ll run future plans by you, even if I don’t tell you they’re future plans. I probably should have done that in the first place here, and it’s my bad for not doing that. But considering all this, is there anything else you can tell us about Toby that could help us find him?” Emile asked.

“He enjoys his creature comforts a little too much for his own good,” Remy said. “He’d rather stay in the same place he’s at if at all possible rather than packing up and moving, even if something bad happens, like a stalker figuring out where he lives. The only way he’d move is if he knows for sure he won’t be safe staying where he is, and even then, he won’t leave town. So you can probably find him around the art school he went to. He wouldn’t go cross-country for a job, and I think most of his work could be done on computers now anyways. Graphic design, and all that.”

“Would he be the type to file a restraining order?” Dice asked.

“I don’t know,” Remy said, considering. “He wants to give people the benefit of the doubt, but when it came to Jamie, he was really freaked when she started threatening him. So he might have ordered one. Not that she would listen to it, but...”

“If he filed a restraining order, it’s possible that I could find his city. From there, finding the man himself would be a piece of cake!” Dice declared. “I’ll put out my feelers, and with any luck I’ll have an update for you next month!”

Emile looked about as excited as Remy felt. “Awesome!” he exclaimed. “You’ve got this month’s payment, too, so is this meeting done?”

“Yeah, I need to get moving. I’ll let you know where and when next month, Mister Thomas!” Dice said as he stood and left the shop.

Remy watched him go, before turning to Emile. “I’m admittedly a little surprised,” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought that this would be how you’d use your inheritance.”

“Oh, no, I’m investing most of it, still,” Emile said. “I’m just using whatever I have after that to pay Dice. He gets good results.”

“I hope so,” Remy said. “I thought I’d never get to see Toby again, and even if this might not work, it’s a possibility that I could see him again, and my heart is racing and my stomach’s in knots. I hope he’s the same as he was before. I’d hate to find him only to realize I’m staring at a stranger.”

“I think you’ll be fine, Rem,” Emile soothed. “Even if Toby changed, I know he wouldn’t stop caring about you.”

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Two: Angel of Hell

The crisp happy music thrummed in a chirpy harmony through Kai's ears. A smile lit his face as he opened his eyes and gently turned off his alarm clock. The smile remained as he turned on his favorite rock playlist and practically danced around his shared apartment, and allowing his hips to sway to the music. He even managed to smile as he read the morning news off his phone and ate his favorite breakfast of Cocoa Puffs.

It's not as though Kaito Crown was always happy; he just normally was. He loved going to school at the nearby university. He had aced all his business classes, due to the fact he had been trained since birth to overtake Beijing Empire. He was close with his dad and loved working with him. His life was great— no, it was perfect.

Kai had been raised in wealth; his father was the most proclaimed business man throughout the entire world. His mother had been a fashion icon that outshone all others. Kai himself was loved and known by everyone. The fact that he was smart and handsome didn't help his case.

A moan escaped the nearby room, and Kai laughed as he watched his best friend stumble out of his room and into the kitchen. Kai had known Carswell Thorne since they were in the first grade. Both came from well known families and had attended the same private academy in California.

"Did you rest well, Sleeping Beauty?" Kai raised an eyebrow. Thorne threw a laser beam glare back.

"Have you ever considered turning the music down? It's only seven in the morning for stars sake, and not all of us are morning people," Thorne retorted, plunking down in the seat across from Kai with his cup of coffee.

"Well, I'm sorry that you're cranky. Are you fighting with Kate again?"

Thorne tensed up at Kai's words. "Oh," Kai sighed. "I'm sorry, Thorne."

"It's alright, Crown." Thorne smiled, tight lipped. "It was bound to happen eventually. It's just like my father said: I'm 'toxic' when it comes to relationships," he air-quoted with a scowl, and Kai grinned at him.

"Hey, you've kept me around for what— sixteen years?" Thorne rolled his eyes at Kai's words.

"Yeah, that's only because I can't seem to get rid of you, no matter how bad of a friend I am."

Kai stood from his seat, placing his bowl in the empty sink. "Cheer up, little toxin. You'll find love eventually." Kai picked up his backpack and began to walk out the door, just as Thorne called out to him.

"How'd your date go last night, since we're talking about my sad love life."

"Oh, you know," Kai shrugged, wrapping a scarf around his neck. It really wasn't that cold, as Thorne like to remind him, but Kai was a wimp. "She was nice— really nice, but not the one. Redheads aren't exactly my type."

Kai had a great record in school. He was great at making friends. He was seemingly the most outgoing person alive, but he could never seem to get a girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't have dozens of girls stalking him and wanting to go out with him. He just had never found one that understood him.

"Don't worry, mate," Thorne bowed in front of him, looking goofy in his plaid robe. "You'll find her someday."

***

The December weather had brought ice to the roads, causing Kai to change his regular course to school to a backroad, but Kai was having a blast as he drove he path while belting "Sweet Caroline" at the top of his lungs. He was right behind a really old and rusty Chevrolet Cavalier the color of dirt and waiting for the light to turn green.

Finally it did, and the old Chevy began to move forward. Kai waited a second, before following behind it, not wanting any surprises from the piece of junk. The drive was nice and breezy, and Kai hardly hit any ice. The song changed, and on came Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benetar.

Kai sang along, enjoying the chorus. He loved listening to songs in his car. He thrived off the feeling of singing until his lungs burned, but his father had told him at a young age that he sounded like a dying peacock when he sang so he only belted out melodies when he was alone.

The chorus was playing a final time when, out of the blue, a red sports car slammed into the old Chevy. The crack of sound that cut through the air was deafening. Time seemed to slow down and Kai watched in horror as the Chevy in front of him tried to stop sliding. Tried so hard, but was no match for the ice and propulsion.

Kai slammed on his brakes, and came to a complete stop just in time to watch the dirt colored car fall off the road and roll down the hill. It tumbled for what seemed like a lifetime, and Kai wondered if whoever was in there would live. He finally understood the expression "watching a slow-motion car crash." It was terrifying.

An eternity later, the car came to a stop at the bottom of the slope. The red sports car had stayed on the road, but was crunched in the front. Kai got out of his car, and walked over to the red car, ears ringing.

The drivers side was a wreck, but the woman sitting there was alive. She had dark auburn hair, and a tearstained face. Her entire body was shaking horribly and her door was jammed. The airbag was deflating, and Kai could tell the lady was crying though he couldn't quite hear her. All the noise had become one high pitched note that seemed to forever echo throughout his head.

Kai walked around the car to the passenger's side. The door opened easily, and Kai began speaking to the woman. He motioned for her to climb out of her vehicle, before anything else happened, and she complied.

Everything seemed so easy. Sure, this woman was in shock but she was still able to get out of her car by herself. Kai had just pulled out his phone to call the police when a spark of light caught the corner of his eye.

Kai practically threw his phone at the red car woman in his haste to run down the hill. How could he be so stupid? Obviously the car that had rolled down a hill would need help first. Kai mentally cursed himself for his idiocy.

Kai threw himself down the diagonal slope in a sprint, attempting to get to to the old car. He ignored the cries of the woman behind him, even as she screamed and wailed. The flames had started small, but were quickly climbing across the surface of the old rust-bucket, the color brighter than normal flames. Kai could see that there was only one person in the car, but he couldn't tell if it was a male or female. They weren't screaming, which frightened Kai. Maybe they were unconscious, or maybe he was too late to save them.

The hill wasn't necessarily long, but it seemed so as Kai raced down at top speed. Flames danced farther along the car, and Kai had the sickening feeling that they were eating the driver alive.

Finally Kai reached the car. It was rolled onto the driver's side, so he knew he would have to get in through the passenger's side again. Kai tried to open the door, but it was jammed.

Cursing, Kai looked at the ground. He had his pocket knife with him, having been told from his boy scout master to “always be prepared.” He couldn't use that to open the door though. Still scanning the ground, Kai's eyes landed on a rather large rock. He smiled and knew that it would work.

Kai began hammering on the window with his rock. The glass began to splinter, and the sickening feeling hit Kai. How long would it take to break the window if rolling down a hill hadn't done it? He had to get that person out of there soon, or else they would either be engulfed in flames or choke on the smoke. Kai was that person's only hope; he had to save them.

The glass seemed almost indestructible, but Kai somehow managed to shatter it all into a thousand pieces. Kai whooped with joy, and began climbing into the car.

That's when he laid eyes on her. She was beautiful, with flames surrounding her, casting a dark, protective shadow. Kai wondered if Hell had angels, and he knew that if they did, this is what they would look like. Kai internally slapped himself for thinking like that during a crisis and tried to undo her seatbelt. It was jammed.

Not even checking to see if she was conscious, he pulled out his pocket knife. The blade was prime, seeing as Kai sharpened it once a month. He wasn't a crazy survivalist, or anything, but he wanted to be prepared.

Kai began sawing through the rough material, and it was much easier than breaking the window glass, though the smoke made it impossible to breathe. The threads came undone in less than sixty seconds and Kai began to wonder if they could ever actually keep anyone safe.

Flames fluttered across his skin, but Kai kept sawing. He had to keep going, even if it meant he got a few burns. Kai knew that the girl was going to have it worse than him, and he had to save her.

The final thread snapped, and Kai grabbed the girl, before she could fall into the windshield. He tucked his knife back into his pants, and began to drag the girl's limp body away from the wreckage.

Kai climbed out backwards, trying to keep both hands on the girl. Glass cut deep into his skin and he winced. The smoke was suffocating him, and he started to panic. Gradually, he pulled his own body from the destruction, and only had the girl left. As gently as he could, Kai hauled her from the car, trying not to let the glass scrape her.

Kai tugged at the girl, and she finally became free of the Hell she had been in. The girl had her chocolate eyes open, but Kai could tell that she was drifting away. He spoke to her. Telling her to stay with him—not to go to sleep, but stay awake— stay alive. He still didn't understand why, but he needed to save her.

He felt as though his life was connected to hers, and the only way to make it complete would be to save her. Her brown eyes locked on his, staring into what must have been his soul. He yelled, wishing he knew her name.

Her lids closed, and the finality seemed to hit Kai like a bulldozer. He ran up the hill, the dying girl still in his arms. He had never run so hard in all of his life—his lungs burning from smoke and exertion.

By the time Kai had climbed to the top of the hill, he could hardly breathe. The smoke was gone, but he knew that it would stay within him for a long, long time.

The red car lady was sprawled across Kai's car, tears running down her cheeks. She was still shaking, though Kai was not surprised. He himself was in shock due to the event that had played before him.

She still had his phone in her hand, and Kai wondered if she had called the police. Kai marched straight for the woman. "Did you call the police?" Kai yelled. His hearing had come back to him, but his ears were still ringing slightly.

The woman nodded and then whimpered. She was she began sobbing hysterically, and Kai felt sympathetic. This woman had not asked for this— it was not her fault.

Kai then remembered the girl in his arms. She had also not asked for this, but look where she was. He set her down on the ground, not sure what to do.

That's when Kai caught sight of her body. She was burned along her entire left side. Her leg was charred black up to her knee, and the rest of her flesh was a raw red with angry blisters already converging.

Kai began dry heaving at the sight and had to look away. How was this girl even alive? Was she still alive? Kai dropped down on his knees and checked for a pulse. He was met by a light, slow thump, and knew they didn't have much time.

The snow on the side of the road was crisp, white and clean. Kai walked over and scooped up an arm full. He wasn't a doctor, or anything, but Kai was pretty sure that it wouldn't do any harm to try and cool her skin down.

White soon covered the charred black flesh, but Kai still felt hopeless. He wished he could do more.

About five minutes later, Kai heard sirens. He jumped up, lifting the burned girl with him. The snow had melted on her skin, and drizzled off in dark, flaking droplets.

Kai watched as the ambulances sped to a stop in front of all the wreckage. EMT's immediately jumped out of the vehicle, pulling two stretchers with them.

People rushed over to the burned girl first, pulling her away and into the first ambulance. They didn't even wait to check on her before loading her up and driving away. Kai stood, still shocked at how fast they had worked.

The rest of the attendants checked the red car lady, and pulled her onto the second stretcher. A woman came over to him, and began asking him questions. He couldn't speak. The world was going at one hundred miles an hour, and he couldn't grasp anything.

Kai fell to the ground, clutching his head, trying to get a grip, but he couldn't. The woman shouted over her shoulder, and hands lifted Kai up onto another stretcher. He began to feel dizzy, wondering where he was.

Medics rushed around him, pushing him into the ambulance. Kai smiled. He had always wanted to see the inside of one of these when he was a kid. The vehicle began to move, and Kai laughed. His eyelids began to droop, and Kai's last thought before drifting off were of the beautiful Angel of Hell.

Tag list: @cerenoya (Let me know if you want to be added!)

[heycallmeladytypewriter]

A Call of the Siren - Chapter Three

A/N: Hey this is a shorter chapter for now but chapter four is already in the works and much longer. We finally get more into the classes and more interactions with our favorite Lord Explosion Murder. I am also looking for a beta if anyone is interested! I don’t own My Hero Academia. I only own my own characters and the story I create within Horikoshi’s masterpiece of a world I’d love to live in.

Chapter One Chapter Two

__________________________________________________________

“Class 1-A...1-A...1-A...goddamn where is it?!” Delia whispered to herself, frustrated. She was never good with directions. She was already on edge today due to the fact she was almost caught by her mother with the wrong uniform on. She had bought her local school’s uniform and it was currently stuffed in her locker to change into before she got back home. She lightly pulled at the end of her braid while she tried to look at the school map again. 

“Oh, uhm hi! Are you looking for 1-A too?” A nervous voice said from beside her.

Looking up from the paper, she was greeted by a boy with messy green hair and a red face. 

“Hi!” She decided not to tell him she actually knew him. At least not yet. She didn’t want him to look at her like she was crazy and a stalker. “Yes! Any chance you know?” 

“I’m a little lost too but maybe two minds are better than one?” He was so flustered with his red face and jerky hand movements - it was adorable. 

They walked around the corner and found it down the hall. Walking up to the door, they both stopped.

“Why is it so big?” 

“Are there giants who go here?” He asked in response.

Before her nerves could get to her, she opened the massive door. She immediately heard two familiar voices. It was Angry boy and the guy from the entrance exam. They both stopped talking once they noticed her and Midoriya at the door. Actually, the whole class turned to look at them. She was pretty sure they both wore matching red faces at this point. The blue haired one straightened his back and marched on over to them without delay. 

“Good morning! My name is Tenya Iida-“

“Uh, hi! I know! My name is Izuku Midoriya. “ he said waving his hands. “It’s super nice to meet you.” 

“Midoriya, you realized there was something more to the practical exam, didn’t you?” 

“Huh?”

“You must be very perceptive. And YOU!” Delia was totally fine with watching the exchange before she realized Iida was gesturing to her. She blinked, “ uh, hi?” And did a small wave with a raised eyebrow.

“You also realized there was something more! I saw you as well run to the aid of that girl. You both are superior students!”

“Uhhh..well-“

“I know that messed up hair! Oh, and you too!” Another voice joined the conversation from behind her. Turning, she saw it was that small girl from the practice exam. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Angry Boy with clenched fists at his desk. His head was tilted slightly meaning he was possibly listening. 

__________________________________________________

Bakugo’s POV:

Oh course fucking Deku was here. 

The bastard ruined everything. He was supposed to be the only one from their school to make it to U.A. He was the best. It only made sense. 

His eyes slid over to the girl standing next to him. It took a moment for him to realize it was the girl from the park he kept running into every time he went to train. She had a puzzled look on her face as that Somei private school douche suddenly pointed at her.

He was used to her in baggy shirts and shorts with messy hair but today her hair was pulled back in a thick braid down her back. She wore the standard girl uniform but her tie was crooked. Her blue eyes were striking even from here.

… It annoyed the ever loving fuck out of him for some reason. 

Of course Deku and this brat would be in his class. 

_________________________________________________________

Delia’s POV: 

“If you're just here to make friends, you might as well pack up your stuff now.” A deep voice said from behind them. The class whipped their heads over to the giant yellow bag on the floor by the door. “Welcome to UA’s Hero Course.” 

What in the actual…?? Delia was just blinking while she could hear Uraraka and Midoriya were making nervous whimpers beside her. 

“It took eight seconds before you all shut up. That’s not gonna work. Time is precious.” 

This man looked so tired as he emerged from his sleeping bag but gave off such an intimidating vibe that had Delia nervous to speak. He is a Pro, of course. Who he was she didn’t know but knew she was going to find out real quick.  “Hello, I’m Shota Aizawa, your teacher.” Well that much she figured despite the class being shocked before a uniform was thrown at her face. 

Aizawa had led them out to a large practice ground rather than the orientation that everyone was itching to attend. He quickly nipped that in the bud with dictating how he will run class as he saw fit and that the Ministry of Education needed to catch up on how we are not created equal (something she was sure her family would have an opinion on..) before she heard him address a classmate. “Bakugo, you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam.” Delia looked over to who he was possibly talking to and saw it was Angry Boy.

So that's his name. Bakugo. It was kind of nice to finally have an answer to that question. 

“What was your farthest distance throw with a softball when you were in Junior High?”

“Sixty-seven meters, I think.” Bakugo replied. Wow. He actually can speak in a normal tone. Delia had only ever heard him yelling at her like a psycho no matter what tone of voice she used. 

“Right. Try doing it with your Quirk.” Aizawa instructed as Bakugou stepped into place. “Anything goes, just stay in the circle.”

“All right, man you asked for it.” What a cocky way to talk to our teacher on our first day, Delia thought, Kid’s got some balls.  

“DIE!” With that, he blew up the sky. A massive explosion sent the ball flying until it was no more than a small dot in the air. Delia couldn’t believe the sheer power Angry Boy - no, Bakugo - had all this time. 

As he commented on knowing the limitations of our quirks, Aizawa turned the device towards the class: 705.2 meters. 

How was she going to compete with that?

The 50 meter dash was a bit difficult as she couldn't see how to use her quirk for that so she just full on sprinted. Thankfully, she had spent the last year running on the beach and it gave her some decent speed. 6.7 seconds. Okay, not great but she’ll take it as Uraraka ran slower than she did.  

The strength test was difficult and pathetic.

As well as the long jump. 

The side jump felt fine. 

Finally, the softball ball test. 

“Bell, your turn.” Aizawa tossed her the ball which she nearly dropped as she walked to the base. Delia was getting nervous and fed up with her performance. She made it this far only for her teacher to kick her out the very first day. 

No, not today. 

“Sometime today, Extra.” A lazy, smug voice called out. She didn’t have to turn to know who it came from. Blowing the hair out of her face, Delia squared her shoulders. Well, fine then. 

In a quick motion of her hand, she pulls all the water out of everyone’s water bottles to form her signature water whip and shoots the ball into the sky before she had lost her nerve. 

“Finally.” Her sensei mumbled while showing the number. 567.3 meters. “ Learn to apply yourself and stop acting like you don’t have a quirk.”

Delia nodded stiffly and walked back to the group as Midoriya replaced her in the circle. She felt a nudge on her arm. “ That was pretty awesome!” The boy with the spiked red hair whispered to her with a giant grin. She couldn’t help but smile back, “ Thank you. Sorry for stealing your water.” He shrugged and waved her off, “It was a worthy cause. Can’t have you getting kicked out on day one with a power like that!” Delia started to tug at her braid, not used to any positive attention for her quirk. 

“My name is Delia Bell, by the way.”

 “I’m Ejiro Kirishima.”

She smiled again before turning back to what was happening just in time to see Midoriya throw the ball with outstanding force. “Mr. Aizawa.” He curled his hand with his newly injured finger into a tight fist, “ See? I’m still standing.” 

Delia was impressed but unsurprised since she’s witnessed it before from the entrance exam. And considering who his mentor has been. 

Everyone was flipping out but she noticed one person was not a happy camper about this at all. Bakugou was hunched and practically steaming with anger as his hands started blowing off mini explosions. Then he rushed towards him, “DEKU YOU BASTARD! Tell me how you did that or you’re dead!” 

Aizawa immediately threw out his scarf and stopped Bakugou in his tracks. “Back off.” 

Delia rolled her eyes at Angry boy still fighting against their teacher over what she was sure was an over dramatic reason and reached down to her water bottle before pouting. She used up her water with everyone else’s. Frigger frick. 

Aizawa had them go through a few extra tests before finally showing their rankings. Delia clenched and unclenched her fists at her side as the projection popped up. Her eyes were scanning as quick as they could..Bell..Bell..Bell..Bell! 

Delia Bell : 21st place out of 22. 

She felt defeated but relieved all at once. She wasn’t out but she had some serious work to do. Delia sadly looked over to where Midoriya was standing. Biting her lip, she went over to him quietly and put her hand on his hunched over shoulder. She figured words weren’t the best in this scenario. 

“And I was lying, no one is going home.” He clicked the screen away along with all of our ability to blink or move for a minute. Somewhere in her head, Delia heard a record being scratched. Aizawa grinned (if you want to call it that) before continuing, “That was just a rational deception to make sure you gave it you’re all in the tests.”  

You ABSOLUTE motherf- 

_______________________________________

Delia was putting her school shoes in her locker when Uraraka bounced up to her side.

“Oh. Hi?” 

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out in the entrance exam when I was stuck!”

Waving her hands at the smaller girl, “ Oh my god no stop that. I wanted to thank YOU for trying to talk to them into giving me points afterwards. That was so nice of you!” 

“How did you- never mind. It was no problem because you deserved it. I mean you ran to me when everyone else was running away. I could’ve been squished!”

“How about we call it even then?” Delia laughed as she saw them going back and forth over this for a while. They started to walk out of the building when Uraraka grabbed her sleeve and started running towards Midoriya and Iida. 

“Oh, it's the infinity girl!” Iida exclaimed before seeing Delia catch up next to her. “ and the girl who stole all of our water!” 

Feeling her face heat up, she laughed a bit. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking about the after effects.” 

“Oh, it was totally worth it! I’m Ochaco Uraraka and this is Delia Bell.” Uraraka gestured to herself and then Delia before pointing to the boys. “Let’s see. You are Tenya Iida and your name is Deku, right? Midoriya?” Midoriya damn near choked when he heard that. 

“Uh, well...My name is actually Izuku. Deku is what Kacchan calls me to make fun of me.” He anxiously explained. Delia scrunched up her nose and squeezed the books she held lightly against her chest so hard the edges of them bit into her hands. Delia promised herself to make sure to trip Angry Boy the next time she interrupted one of his runs. Maybe even drop one of his weights on his foot or maybe just a good old fashion punch. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry. But you know what? I like “Deku.” It could make a great hero name!” She threw her fist in the air before she smiled at him sweetly, “Plus, I think it's kind of cute.”

“Deku it is!” 

Delia burst out laughing and shook her head. Boys are so simple. As she listened to her new classmates bicker, she smiled at them. “This is going to be an interesting year.” Delia hooked her arm through Uraraka’s arm, who practically bounced at the gesture, and followed the boys down the hill towards home. 

Oh, how she would eat, get sick from, and violently throw up those damn words later. Baka.

[bughead-fic-request]

I would like to thank @leaalda for making these amazing banners. 

This is an effort to spread the word about all fan fiction writers in our little fandom. If you would like to be featured or nominate a writer, please contact me. Please reblog this post if you can and check out some of reflectivemuse (@i-am-the-fire57) work! 

1. First things first, if someone wanted to read your stories where can they find them.

You can find my fics under the name reflectivemuse at AO3. I'll also post excerpts on Tumblr as @i-am-the-fire57.

2. Tell us a little about yourself.

I'm Rochelle, from Seattle, WA. Thirty years old, ace, bipolar, and Asperger's. Getting into reading and writing helped me understand real life social cues and communication better, but unless its blatant sarcastic humor can sometimes get lost in translation.

3. What do you never leave home without? 

Phone, headphones, keys, and wallet that holds a bus pass and various cards together.

4. Are you an early bird or a night owl?

I'm kind of both - I stay up late-ish but wind up awake between six and seven am anyway.

5. If you could live in any fictional world, which one would you choose and why?

Percy Jackson's world, hands down. The mortality rate is a lot lower than other fictional realms I'm obsessed with, and there's still plenty of humor on the road to danger.

6. Who is the most famous person you’ve ever met.

None really yet - I've talked to YA authors Maggie Stiefvater and Cassandra Clare at book signings. I joked with Maggie about turning her first book Lament into a stage musical, and then with Cassie about how an alternate title for The Infernal Devices should be Downworld Abbey because of the proximity to the Downton Abbey time period - (she joked back that if she had her way Matthew Crawley would have been turned into a vampire)

7. What are some of your favorite movies/TV? 

Supernatural, 12 Monkeys, Stargate SG-1, Humans, Riverdale, Nikita, Parks and Rec...I love musicals like 1776, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Grease, and Phantom of the Opera. The Captain America movies, especially Civil War. And, a curveball to my tastes - Runaway Jury.

8. What are some of your favorite bands/musicians?

I like various forms of metal - symphonic like Nightwish/Within Temptation, alternative such as Halestorm (I got my tumblr username from one of their songs.) I survived high school on punk-pop music, going to Green Day/Jimmy Eat World concerts. For pop, I eat up anything by Ryan Star.

9. Favorite Books?

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier

The Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin

I'm decidedly a YA leaning writer and Maggie Stievater's The Scorpio Races along with Cassandra Clare's The Infernal Devices are some of the most beautiful books I've ever read.

10. Favorite Food?

Random things - challah bread, milkshakes, pad thai. I went to Hawaii once and got a taste for guava jelly. Nothing too interesting.

11. Biggest pet peeve?

Weird guys on the bus who want me to take my headphones off so that they can awkwardly hit on me. Also, guys who hit on me.

12. What did you want to be when you were little? What do you want to be now?

I wanted to be a Disney animator when I was three - hot off of seeing The Little Mermaid, I guess. My mom drew one rough doodle of Ariel and I kept asking for more until she told me to try it myself. I lasted two years of animation courses in college before deciding to focus more on the writing aspect of storytelling.

13. What are your biggest fears? Do you have any strange fears?

Oh, boy. Clowns (My mom dressed my room up in them when I was little) Bees! If a wasp is zooming within like ten feet of me, whether I'm at an outdoor restaurant or surrounded by a gazillion people, I move. I'm afraid of heights, and drowning, and the general feeling of weightlessness. And grasshoppers - awhile back I had a dream I was being chased by a giant grasshopper that everyone else kept calling the coolest thing ever.

14. When you are on your deathbed, what would be the one you’d regret not doing? 

Travelling. I've done so much in my mind but so little IRL. I've never felt connected to my home country the way I do when I look at a calendar image of Ireland or listen to European folk music.

Okay… lets talk about your writing!

15. Which is your favorite of the fics you've written for the Bughead fandom?

Quiet Mercy - Struggling with mental illness, I wrote this thinking 'what I wouldn't give to have friends that step up the way the Riverdale gang is for Betty.'

16. Which was the hardest to write, in terms of plot?

For plot, that's South Side Story, only because there's so much other stuff going on - from the musical to the shady legal dealings to Bughead pretending they're strangers, plus more stuff I haven't even gotten to yet.

17. How do you come up with the ideas for you fic(s)? Do you people watch? Listen to music? Get inspired by TV/movies?

I watch the show. I actually come up with ideas while I'm watching the show - then I go over in my head where I can get more inspiration from. For Quiet Mercy I played around with elements of Legion (real vs not real Lenny), and for South Side Story I delved in Grease.

18. What kind of music are you using to write?

It depends on the story - for Quiet Mercy, I have a Spotify playlist full of angsty folk/rock. In honor of its inspiration roots, I'm using a lot of throwback artists from the sixties and seventies to write South Side Story. I'm using lines from those songs at the top of every chapter.

19. Least favorite plot point/chapter/moment you’ve written?

I can't say I'm too crazy about everything from South Side Story, chapter 2: Pure. Mostly because I wanted things to be much tougher for Betty at South Side High, and I think I might have copped out and given her some cool friends too quickly.

20. Favorite plot point/chapter/moment you’ve written?

For South Side Story, it was when Betty took on the stoners that had stolen her car. I felt like that was the first time I'd ever been able to write her as the clever badass I've always seen her to be. For Quiet Mercy, I want to say it's the love scene, but in reality it's a much smaller scene that happens earlier on, when Betty drops in on Jughead's foster family during dinner. I thrive on tension, I guess.

21. Favorite character to write?

So, in any world, I love to write the characters that do interesting things but express themselves quietly - basically Jughead. I also invented a transgender character who is fast becoming the most fun to use for deadpan - Sonny Chan.

22. Favorite line or lines of dialogue that you've written?

I have lots!

QUIET MERCY

Veronica: How about someone with no blue-collar marketable skills for Career Day and nothing equipped to help the people around me who are falling apart? I might as well sign up to be a professional pine tree!

Archie: Hey man, what's been going on?

Jughead: Ah, you know. Homework. Serpent side projects. I think my foster family has a Stepford cult.

SOUTH SIDE STORY

Sonny: I don't know about you guys, but this looks like at least a three year prison sentence. Maybe four - do you have any fireworks?

Jughead: I want you to put the top up so that I can touch you without looking over our shoulders. Betty: Smell that? I think someone left their bong in here.

23. Best comment/review you’ve ever received?

Honestly, my Bughead fics are pretty light in comments. I've written fics for other fandoms though, and it really got me through some dark times whenever someone said they'd been staying up just to see if I'd update.

24. How do you handle bad reviews or comments?

I've never gotten any of those...the worst for me is no comments, because then it kind of feels like no one cares, you know?

25. If you could change anything in any of your stories, what would it be?

I'd lighten it up. I've been so serious lately, I have no clue how to laugh anymore.

26. What is your favorite story you’ve ever written? Any fandom? 

The biggest one I ever did was for Humans - I took a girl and handful of conscious robots and sent them across Europe with only audiobooks, a Wicked sing-along, and a dog to keep them occupied while they saved the world. I still read it every so often and wonder who was hijacking my body while it was being made.

27. What are you reading right now? Both fan fiction and general fiction?

Not reading too much now...I can never read and write at the same time. But Don't Drink the (Maple) Water by @christah88 is a freakin' pot of gold. (And yes 'pot' was referred to with appropriately ironic humor.)

28. Do you have an advice for writers that want to get into this fandom but might be scared?

Go for it! Plenty of nice people around - I'm pretty sure that anyone here in general doesn't sign up just to say 'stay away from me.' We're all looking to make friends, and there are plenty of ways to do that. Also I'm pretty new to this fandom myself - I just binged on Riverdale a couple of weeks ago. My inbox is practically empty, I'd love to change that. Thanks for reading!

[strainingfororiginality]

Chapter 3.3 - Gone

We are ghosts

We are ghosts

We are ghosts amongst these hills

From the trees of velvet green

To the ground beneath our feet

"M-m-millions?" Fet gulped. “Dat’s crazy … Did you say … millions?”

"A little over sixty-seven million, to be exact." Dutch said as she shifted nervously from side to side, still holding the piece of papers in her hands as she folded them, unfolded them, and then refolded them. “For the three of us … That’s around twenty-two million each.” She was trying desperately to not sound happy, but the nervous glee in the pit of her stomach was extremely distracting.

Each time she glanced over at Dawn, she could see the woman just staring at the papers in her fidgeting hands. She hadn’t said anything yet and this was starting to make Dutch increasingly anxious.

"Wait … three of us? Who’s left out?" Fet questioned logically.

"Well … he said this was for us." She waved one of the papers in the air and brought her index finger around in a circle, pointing out herself, Fet, and Gus. “And he said this was for you.” The last statement was directed towards Dawn and she offered her the piece of paper timidly.

Never taking her eyes from the folded square, Dawn accepted it from Dutch’s offering hand and she stared at the outside of it silently, running her fingers over the ‘D’ that Quintus had impressively scripted on the very outside of it.

"And what’s in dat one?" Fet pushed again and Dutch took a seat as Gus finally spoke up from his rigid stance behind Dutch.

"More." The boxer cleared his throat and said simply.

Dawn wasn’t asking how much. She wasn’t saying a bloody thing yet and Dutch took a deep breath in, questioning if it had been too soon to look into this …

Fet couldn’t stand the anticipation though, and he asked again, like the big child she knew he was. "But … How much more?"

Dutch took in another deep breath and tried to coax the number out of her mouth, but Gus took the lead and she was relieved she didn’t have to actually voice it. She had no idea how to not sound excited and she knew that was the wrong thing to convey to the tiny and ridiculously quiet woman right now.

"A little over Four Hundred and Eighty-Six Million."

"Holy … shit." Fet sat down finally and shook his head from side to side. “I don get it. When did he give you these?” She could read it all over his face. He was still in mild denial.

"Right before … “ She paused and swallowed deeply. “Right before … you know …" Bringing her hands up to her throat in a choking matter she made a pathetic gagging sound before she realized it was likely a bit insensitive. “I mean … right before it happened.”

"Why didn’t you say anything?" Fet pressed and Dutch slumped in the chair, locking eyes with him as she shrugged guiltily.

"I didn’t know if … if the world was over ... “ Her head rolled down in shame and she admitted out loud what everyone had been keeping to themselves over the last weeks. “I was hoping … maybe they weren’t gone." Don’t cry. Don’t do it. She kept her emotions in check knowing she had one final thing to disclose.

Fumbling the letter from her back pocket, she handed it to Dawn, who was still just running her fingers over the cursive ‘D’ on the outside of her folded paper. Given her lack of reaction to anything, Dutch had considered holding onto the letter until later, but it was best to just get it all out in the open.

"And this." Dawn accepted it and looked at the name and address on the outside of it carefully. The handwriting was exquisite and she ran her fingers over the name before opening the envelope slowly, carefully pulling the letter from its protective sleeve.

Before she had unfolded it fully, Dutch explained further. "I don’t know what it says … well, not exactly. It isn’t for us and it’s in --"

"Italian." Dawn interrupted, finally saying something as she finished the hacker’s statement.

"Yeah." She bit her lip tenderly before telling Dawn exactly what Q had told her when he’d given it to her. “It’s for Antonio Ferrari. He’s ... “ She hesitated on saying his name, but plowed forward anyways. “Quinlan’s Estate Manager.”

"But …" Dawn’s voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible as she ran her fingers over the ink of the letter, ultimately ending on the marvelous signature at the bottom as she touched it gingerly. Her middle finger ran across it several times as she drew a deep breath, mustering the strength to finish her sentence. “You don’t know what it says?”

Dutch shook her head. She didn’t know Italian and there were only two things in the letter that she could decipher with certainty. ‘Diana Meadow Maxwell’ and ‘Quintus Sertorius’. "Not specifically. No. If we get a laptop, we can translate it, but I didn’t have time. All I know is he said it was instructing Antonio to give you everything."

"Everything? There’s more? What else?" Fet asked again and Dutch shrugged.

"I don’t know, love. I really don’t. He didn’t really say much."

"Yeah, sounds like him." Fet laughed in bitter remembrance.

"I’m thinking real estate? Investments? Everything that’s not cash, is my assumption." Dutch offered.

"Goddamn." Fet said and everyone sat in utter silence for a painful moment before Dawn stepped toward the table. Dutch really wasn’t sure what would happen next, but the look on the short woman’s face was not one even on her short list of expectation. What she saw was pure anger.

Dawn threw the papers down violently on the table as she sneered towards them. "I don’t want it."

"Shortie--" Gus started, his hands dropped from their crossed position as he stepped forward, reaching out for her.

"I don’t want it. I don’t want his money." She said again, but with more force and volume. “You can keep it. I don’t fucking want it.”

"He didn’t want us to have it. He wanted you to have it." Dutch tried. She didn’t know how she would feel in this situation either. Any amount of excitement that had fostered was gone and now she just felt like a total ass for even bringing it up.

"Wanted." Dawn corrected plainly. “But it doesn’t matter what he wanted anymore … does it? It doesn’t matter because he’s gone now.”

"Yeah, but he wanted--" Dutch tried as she looked up. Goddamn she felt like such an ass.

"He’s gone."

No one moved and no one spoke. No one was sure what to say and Fet fidgeted in his seat as Dawn started to move towards the door and Gus reached out for her again, but she pulled powerfully out of his grip.

"Shortie--"

"He doesn’t want anything anymore, because he’s dead." She waved an angry hand towards the table and the papers that were strewn across it. “Give it all to charity. I don’t fucking care.”

The door slammed and the three stared at the table with quiet awkwardness.

"Oy." Dutch shook her head. “That went … terribly. It was too soon to bring this up.”

"No." Gus countered. “It would have always been too soon.” Looking out the window, he watched her take her place back in the sand as the wind blew her hair in its violent torrential force. “She’ll come around.”

"So … uh … “ Fet shifted uncomfortably again. “What do we do now? Do we stay here? What’s da plan now?"

Dutch shrugged. "We need to go to the mainland to get access to it, but …" She smiled just a bit as she made a suggestion she’d been keeping to herself. “We can actually buy our own island now …”

"Islands ..." Fet’s eyes grew wide as the reality of it actually sunk in. Suddenly, something else sunk in and he furrowed the bridge of his nose. “Waitaminute … you guys went to town without me?!”

"Uh oh … You aren’t happy." Ellie noted as Dawn stared into the sand, her eyes filling with tears again … finally. She’d kept it together until she’d made it out the door but then her composure went to hell.

"I don’t want his money." Dawn whispered carefully as she longingly gazed out across the crashing water.

"I know." Ellie said.

"I don’t want his money." Dawn repeated again. She didn’t want his fucking money.

"I know you don’t want it …" Her friend said simply and firmly. “But you need it.”

"I don’t need anything." Dawn balked at the implication of her statement. “Why would I need that?”

"To exist." Ellie stated plainly.

"I’ll be fine on my own. I don’t need his help anymore." Dawn scoffed at the statement as she beat her fist into the sand. “Even in the end … I guess I was just a whore to him.” Goddamn it ... Why couldn’t she just let it go? “In the end … he did pay me for services rendered.”

"Oh please." Ellie shook her head at Dawn in absolute disapproval. “You do not pay a whore that much money. This wasn’t payment for anything and you know that. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. This isn’t like you.”

As she glared furiously at her best friend, Dawn retreated back into her mind as she ran over the scenario again and again. Replaying the amount in her head and she felt nauseous over the mere thought of it.

She didn’t need his money. She didn’t need anything from him. How could he have ever thought that was a good idea?! Goddamn it, she was so fucking mad. Why was she so mad?!? Why did he think this was a good idea?!?

Ellie argued with her hidden thoughts. "Because it is a good idea."

"Stay out of my head!" She snapped and Ellie just shrugged innocently, undeterred by Dawn’s outburst.

"It was a good idea, because he wanted you to be taken care of."

"Because he didn’t want to feel guilty about leaving?!" Dawn sneering and dug her heels into the sand as she kicked at it furiously. Biting back the urge to just stand up and run, she clenched her jaw tightly. She wanted to run. She needed to run. To just get up and leave. She could make it on her own … without his help … without anyone’s help.

"Running away isn’t the solution. He didn’t just leave. I already told you … he had a choice. And he chose--"

"He chose to leave." Fucking ass. She sighed deeply as the anger flowed over her entire body. In all honestly, it felt good to feel something other than … emptiness. It felt good to feel something other than numbness.

"Do you really think he wanted to leave? Do you really think it was his first choice?" Ellie’s voice wasn’t coddling, soft, or meandering. It was firm, direct, and focused. She was stating the obvious and Dawn, though she didn’t wish to hear it, knew it was the very thing that she needed to hear. “If it wasn’t him, then it would have been you both.”

"Why? That doesn’t make any sense." Dawn shook her head in powerful defiance. She still felt like she didn’t know everything and she needed to know, but Ellie only stared at her patiently. “What’s … “ Dawn stuttered. “What’s wrong with me?”

"There’s nothing wrong with you … not anymore. He fixed you."

"You said you’d tell me." Goddamn it. Why can’t anyone just be fucking straight with her?! “So tell me.”

"I don’t know if you’re ready for it quite yet." Ellie sighed. “It will change everything.”

"So, you’re a liar." She stared at Ellie’s bare feet and she repeated it in her mind. Liar. She’s a liar. “You don’t even know.”

"I’m not lying to you. When you’re ready, I will tell you everything. But right now … You won’t believe me and you need to be open for what I need to tell you." Placing a hand on Dawn’s, Ellie leaned her head over and rested it on her friend’s shoulder in an intimate way. “When you are actually ready to listen, then I’ll tell you everything.”

"But … I don’t want his money." Dawn repeated again. Just the thought of taking it sickened her. “I … don’t … want … it.”

"I know. I know you don’t want his money … " Ellie gripped her hand tightly. “You want him.”

"Who did this?" Dawn asked finally. Would she not tell her anything at all? She’s such a liar. “You said he would have never let me stop it … Who? Can you at least tell me that much?”

Ellie brought her head up and looked squarely into her eyes as she brushed the tears and sand from her spotted cheeks.

"Your grandfather."

Anger.

You, you make me weak

Yeah you, you bring me to my knees

And all I ask of you

And all I ask of you

Is baby, please don't leave me

You are all I ever need

Oh baby, baby, baby

If you're leavin', leavin', leavin'

You would only, only, only

Take from me, me, me

The sun finished its slow and meandering path through the heavens until it hit the skyline and now she was just left with a retreating rich pastel hue of purple and blue spread across the horizon and reflected at the water’s edge. The breeze would start blowing again, as it always did at this time, right at the beginning of dusk and she would welcome it. She preferred the coolness of it to the heat of the day, even though the sun didn’t seem to burn her anymore and she liked how it would make her hair dance in its embrace. Damn, she needed a haircut.

She was changed in so many ways and it continued to terrify her. Quintus had told her not to shy away from her gifts, but he was gone now and she had no idea how to deal with any of it on her own quite yet. As the moonless night consumed the entire sky, she sighed as the porch light illuminated the sand all around her from behind and her shadow stretched out, almost long enough to touch the waves which crashed relentlessly against the perfect sand.

"You aren’t alone." The apparition to her side assured her but she ignored it fully as she wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them firmly to her chest, burying her head into the dark crevice within.

Eventually, she heard someone clumsily approach from behind and she pulled her head up to see her own shadow disappear as a larger one completely encompassed it from behind as they stood behind her.

"I’m not cold." She assured the figure, whom she was assuming to be the boxer with his offer of the blanket again but as she turned and squinted up to the figure, she realized it was actually Fet. He stood still for a moment, gripping a towel in his hand and he smiled nervously.

"Dat’s ok. I’m not cold either." He lowered himself down onto the sand where Ellie had been, but at some point the ghost had vanished and Dawn was somewhat relieved. She actually missed Hathų, Ellie was … different and it unnerved her a bit.

"Sorry … I thought you were … “ She trailed off and Fet shrugged heavily.

"S’okay." They sat in silence for a quiet moment before he was driven to speak again. She knew Fet didn’t like silence very much. It seemed to drive him a bit antsy. “Wow … it’s really peaceful out here, isn’t it?”

Well … it was. She bit back the retort and simply nodded to him as he deeply breathed in the salty sea air and sighed out loudly. He’d never come to visit her out there before and she wondered if he had been sent out here to retrieve her, having drawn the short stick.

"I’m sorry for my … outburst … I dunno--" She started to make an apology. She wasn’t sure if she actually meant it, or if she just wanted him to go away, but he talked over her.

"Dat’s ok." Fet said, staring out at the water as he shifted that strange towel into his other grip, holding it tightly as he circled it around in his grip. “I think it’s a shock for everyone, ya know?”

Heh. Of course she knew. She would have just nodded in response, but he wasn’t looking at her, so she felt forced to speak again. "Yeah."

"I know everyone deals with stuff on their own … and in der own time … but … we can’t stay here." Fet finally said. “We need to decide what to do next. And you need to be a part of dat decision.”

"You don’t need my input to decide what you guys want to do." She said coldly.

"Yeah, we do." Fet leaned over and nudged her playfully with his massive shoulder. “Cause, we’re all in this together now. We’re family.”

"You guys can do whatever you need." She shrugged. Family wasn’t something that held very good connotations for her. “I’m not your responsibility. I’ll be fine on my--”

"Yeah, I got no doubts on that … but we won’t be. You three’re the only family I got left now. Gus got no one ... Dutch doesn’t know. Do you? Do you know if you have family left?" Dawn shook her head at his question. Seeing the maps on the news and the devastation that occurred on the West coast, she was certain the Master had followed through on his threat and took everyone from her. She cringed at the thought that it might have been why there was so much destruction there to begin with. “So … we ain’t going nowhere unless we all go. ‘Sides, we’re kinda tied together now. Fugitives and all.”

Dawn had no idea what to say to that and the next silence that ensued was almost painful and she felt driven to break it, but luckily the big man spoke first.

"You a religious person?"

Dawn blinked. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but this question caught her completely off guard. "No." She shook her head. “No, I’m definitely not.”

"Me neither." He looked from the water down to the sand and then to the towel that he fumbled in his large grip continuously. “Not really, at least. I mean … I was raised Catholic but … it didn’t stick, ya know?”

"I wasn’t really raised anything."

"I can see the appeal of it now though." Fet said in a gentle tone as he looked back out to the water. “I couldn’t before, you know?”

"What do you mean?" She stared down at the towel and asked quietly. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at and she didn’t need his clumsy efforts to comfort her right now.

"I mean … thinking dat da people we love … “ His gaze shifted from the water to the sky as he smiled. “Are still out there. Right now … together and happy. Mom and Dad, Da Professor, Da Docs … Q."

"But they aren’t." She countered, playing with the sand as she often did, trying to distract herself from the conversation. “They’re gone.”

"Yeah … but … I dunno though." He laughed out loud. “I think da professor is too stubborn to just … vanish. I like to think he’s in Heaven being … difficult, huh?”

"If there is an afterlife …" Just the thought of this caused Dawn to smile slightly. It was a nice sentiment, even if she didn’t buy it entirely. “I bet he is … being difficult that is.”

"I know he is." Fet’s smile grew wider as he nodded to himself. “It's just a feelin’, ya know? But I know he is. Gettin’ into trouble.” Fet laughed at the thought of it.

"What if you’re wrong?" She took a deep breath, in through her nose, exhaling slowly from her mouth as she forced her anger down inside. “What if they aren’t anywhere anymore?”

"If you really believed that … then who are you talkin’ to out here all the time?" Fet asked directly and the question caught her entirely off guard. This was the second time he’d surprised her tonight and she grinned slightly.

"Talking to?" She feigned innocence.

"Dat’s ok. You know … “ He looked out across the waves, squinting at the bright moon that had just started to raise above the horizon, breaking into the distant sky with its soft white light. “Sometimes I talk to the Professor too. It makes me … I dunno … it makes me feel like I’m still connected to him. Like, maybe he can hear me, yeah?"

"I’m …" Dawn blushed slightly at the revelation that they all knew she was talking to herself again. “I’m not talking to ... him.” Should she qualify that with a name or did he know?

"Maybe you should then." Fet offered. “It might help.”

"I don’t wanna talk to him." Her tone was entirely devoid of emotion and it even surprised her as it escaped her lips. “He’s an asshole.”

The candidness of her statement caused him to laugh out loud and as his chuckle trailed off, he nodded aggressively. "Hell yeah he is." The emphasis was placed on the present tense of that verb and she knew it was strategic. At this moment, she felt as if she’d never given the big man enough credit. “You know … I was mad too. For a while, I was really mad, but I realized it didn’t matter. We shoulda saw it coming.”

"Maybe … but he had no right--"

"He woulda done whatever he wanted no matter what anyone said and there ain’t nobody who coulda stopped him. I didn’t know him for very long, but I knew dat much. I don’t think anyone other den maybe the Professor himself coulda talked him outta anything." Fidgeting with the towel again, his eyes became serious as he furrowed his nose. “I don’t know if der was another way, but right now, dey saved the world. As much as I hated da Doc, he came through, ya know? Surprised da hell outta me.”

"I know. I don’t think there was another way. I accept that." Dawn pulled her feet onto her lap, crossing them under her as she placed her hands in her lap. “But … that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.” She had just … even finishing the thought now scared her, she had wanted to go with him.

Ellie was back again and she heard her voice from the opposite side as Fet sat. "You shouldn’t be happy. You should be angry."

"I’m not sayin’ you have to be happy about how it went down. But, you aren’t alone, huh?" Fet’s expression became pensive as he looked down at her. Even sitting down, the man towered over her and she sighed heavily at his words. “You don’t gotta sit out here and talk to yourself. We’re here. You can talk to us.”

"I’m sorry." She wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, but the words hurt coming out and she suddenly wanted to apologize for apologizing. She knew that would turn into an endless cycle though and moved on to her next thought. “It’s not you guys … I just ... “

"I mean … I’m not sayin’ I know what you’re going through either. I know it’s not da same. I got Dutch and I am so fuckin’ grateful for dat." Fet looked upwards at the last sentence and then back down to his strange towel before he chuckled lowly. “Did you know I didn’t even know about you two until dat last day?” Another chuckle ensued. “I mean … how stupid am I, huh?”

Dawn looked at him wide-eyed as his laugh actually caused her to smile just a tiny bit. "I’m actually not sure there was anything before that last day. He knew he was gonna die and I think--"

"What? Nah." He interrupted quickly. “No. When I think back on it now, I was just fuckin’ blind.” Shaking his head back and forth, his smile widened again. “Did ya know … I caught him listening to you and Dutch on the roof dat one day?”

"What?" Dawn scrunched her nose at the revelation. “What do you mean listening to us?”

"Yeah!" Fet was incredibly amused at the disclosure, finally happy to get it off his chest. “He made me promise not to say anything, but now it makes total sense. I dunno what you guys were talkin’ about, but he was all over that conversation, like a goddamn beagle.”

He had been … eavesdropping on them? On her?? She was amused by this fact as well, it seemed. It made her feel both good and sad that maybe he had been interested in her even before she had made her fumbled attempt to kiss him in the tunnel that day.

"What were you guys talkin’ about?" Fet’s eagerness to know was childlike and she grinned at his excited face.

"Boys … I mean … men." Dawn chuckled in slight embarrassment. Oh god. She didn’t even realize she still knew how to laugh. There was a particular stinging guilt associated with this and her smiled faded quickly. She shouldn’t be laughing. She shouldn’t be happy. “Well, it was actually mostly Dutch. She was talking about sex. She wanted to hook me up with Gus.”

"Dat explains it." Fet was quite proud of himself now and he continued on. “Thinking back, it was even before den too … Did you know he threatened to bleed me for you?”

"To bleed you?" Dawn looked at him surprised. “When was that?!?”

"When he first brought you in." Fet nudged her again. “He was totally prepared to hold me down forcefully and let the Doc stick me. I got no doubts about dat.”

"He thought he needed information from me." She shrugged it off. “I said something to him--”

"Nah. No. It was not dat." Fet grinned again. “I ain’t never seen him like dat.”

"Like what?" She pressed.

"Panic’d. Worried." His voice grew light as he winked at her. “Smitten.”

Dawn blushed furiously at his last word and her instinct was to immediately deny such an assumption. "No, I don’t think--"

"You know it’s true." Fet shook his head as he nudged her again. “I know you know it.”

Knowing that was so very bittersweet. This wasn’t making her feel better. This was making her feel worse. What was the point of it? Did he know that he was just ripping her heart completely open ... again? "I don’t want to think about these things. I don’t want to think about them."

"Yeah, me neither." Goddamn it. He was such a big kid. “But, I do … constantly. And I don’t want to think about dem alone anymore. I don’t wanna remember alone … not anymore.” He fidgeted with that damn towel again. “Did you ever hear how we met him?”

Dawn shook her head and he continued with his tale, a giant grin on his face the entire time. "Me and da Professor went to check out a lead half-cocked and we were basically dead … you know … six feelers. Der’s no way. I couldn't even get a shot off at one of dem. In walks this strigoi with a fucking bone sword and twin uzis and takes ‘em all out. BAM BAM BAM. And dat was just the first time he saved our asses. I ain’t never seen nothing like dat." Fet’s smile grew so wide, his dimples became visible. “Me and da Professor, we couldn’t even kill one of them and BAM … all six. Just gone. Dat bastard didn’t even break a sweat.”

"Heheheh." She giggled a little bit. “Sounds like him.” She was actually smiling now. Goddamn it Fet. “I don’t think he sweats though.” Did she just use the present tense on that verb?

Fet slapped his leg loudly and the suddenness of his action caused her to jump a bit and he was laughing under his breath as if he just remembered some hidden joke. "And you know what else?!"

"What?" His enthusiasm was entertaining.

"You know, I found you an atlas, huh?" He was smiling while he spoke. “I knew where one was. I seen it the week before.”

"You did?" Dawn doubted his statement. “But you never gave me--”

"Dat bastard was waiting on the porch when I got back." Fet shook his head. “He took it from me.”

Dawn’s mouth fell agape and she stuttered. "He … he did?" Fet nodded, laughing under his breath. “What the hell did he do with it?”

His shrug was exaggerated and he breathed out deeply. "I dunno. I thought he was an ass for it, ya know? I thought he was just controlling and manipulating, forcing you to stay because he needed ya."

"That sounds about right ..."

"Nah, I don’t think dat’s it." He nudged her again. “Thinking back … He didn’t want ya to leave.”

Dawn found herself frowning at that revelation, not really sure how to internalize it quite yet and Fet sighed heavily again before grinning. "Man, dat feels good to get off my chest, huh?"

"Yeah?" She asked and he nodded merrily.

"I felt like an ass for not sayin’ anything. I felt like his sneaky accomplice, but I had no idea it was because he was … you know."

She was shocked by the statement. "Wait, so you would’ve been O.K. with keeping me there if--"

"I’m not sayin’ dat. I’m saying I woulda been more understanding, huh? And for love? I wouldn’ta been so mad at him, nah. It woulda made him more human, ya know?" Fet relaxed his posture as if a great burden had been relieved from him. “You know you women drive us crazy right? Our brains go all funny when you’re around. Apparently, even immortal, sword wielding half-breeds too.”

"I’m sorry." She said. This wasn’t making her feel better. Didn’t he see that? She didn’t want to know these things. “I don’t want to talk about this--”

He shrugged off her statement, interrupting her sentence entirely. "I know it hurts." He said as his face grew solemn and serious. “But dat’s the debt dat we owe to the dead. Dat’s da price we pay to stay.”

"What’s the price?" She didn’t want to pay any price to stay.

"Dat no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much we don’t wanna think about them not being here anymore, we have to. Dat’s the burden we have to bear. The memories are the only thing dat keeps them alive now and dat’s our responsibility, yeah?" He paused for a moment. “To remember them, no matter what. As long as we remember them, some part of them is still alive … ”

And now she understood what the point of it was and what the point of his story was. It didn’t matter what it was doing to her, he just needed to talk about it too. He needed to remember it, to remember them and suddenly she found herself needing to as well as the tears welled up in her green eyes, but she successfully fought their escape. Fet scooted closer and put his arm around her, pulling her tightly to him as he wiped his own eyes. He’d completely hidden his own crying but now being this close to him, she could see his eyes were swollen and puffy.

"Yeah." There were minutes of silence and it was almost deafening before she finally asked him, pointing to the towel. “So, you gonna go for a swim or what?”

"I … I … uh …" He sighed and she tensed up as he suddenly became nervous. “I found dis in the bag weeks ago. I dunno why, but I put it away. I didn’t wanna open wounds, yeah? But ... I think you should have it.” He opened the towel to reveal that it was actually hiding something and as her eyes looked down at it, her heart sank profoundly.

It was the handle of Quintus’ bone sword. As she reached out to touch it carefully with her right hand, Fet moved the towel and set it entirely in her lap.

"I didn’t even realize he still had it." The last time she’d seen it was in that stairwell, after the rocket and before she saved him. So much for not crying, as the first tear streamed down her face, hitting the corner of her jaw as it fell to the sword handle beneath, she couldn’t hold the barrage of them back any longer.

"It was in the bottom of da bag. I think he was expecting to get it fixed. I mean … it’s old, so I bet it’s broken before, huh? Dang … I don’t even know how he broke it."

She found herself picking it up and gripping it tightly as she smiled, remembering wrapping her arms so tightly around him as he jumped from the window with her in his strong embrace. "Well … There was a rocket."

Fet’s eyes grew fascinated and child-like again. "A rocket?"

A simple and genuine chuckle escaped her as she remembered the jump from one high rise to another and she nodded. "Yeah. There was a sniper too. It was after he saved me from the Master."

"Now dat’s a story I wanna hear." She looked up to his face and she was now so very glad he had come out here. She’d never been very close to Fet, but right now, she realized how lucky she was to have him … to have them all. “It's ok, right?” He pointed to the sword. “I didn’t wanna upset you, but it’s ok I gave dat to you?”

"Yeah." Dawn nodded as she set it back down on the towel as if it was incredibly fragile. “It’s ok.”

"Good. I was worried, ya know." He confessed. “How you reacted inside, to da letter, I didn’t want you to just … like … chuck it out into da ocean. I’m not a very good swimmer.” He paused for a moment and whispered quietly. “I actually don’t know how to swim at all. Kinda dumb to be on an island, huh?”

Both of them laughed at his confession and she found herself turning to him fully to give him a warm hug. "Thank you."

"Was there …" She hesitated in asking, but her curiosity got the best of her. “Was there anything else in the bag?” She was wondering about the locket and he shook his head. It hadn’t been in his pocket at the cabin and she found herself wondering what the hell had happened to it.

"Nope. Just extra ammo and guns for us and that. I’m sorry I kept it from you." He apologized. “I was just … I dunno … waitin’ for the right time, I guess?”

"It’s ok." Her tears were subsiding as she touched the weapon again, appeasing something deep within her that wished so desperately to reconnect with the dhampir. She didn’t have to be alone. Not anymore. “And … I’m not talking to him … but … I think there’s something wrong with me.”

"Don’t tell him anything. He’ll just think you are CrAzY." Ellie stammered from her other side. “You don't’ want to get locked up like your father was.”

"Like what?" Fet pushed, concern lacing his question.

"Like … I’m hearing things again." She confessed as she ignored Ellie’s continuing requests for her to keep quiet.

"Again?" Fet was confused. “So, you heard ‘em before?”

"Yeah. I hear voices." Best to keep succinct and concise. If she was going to stay with them, they had a right to know about her craziness, right?

"Huh." He nodded simply. Just … huh? He wasn’t even shocked? “I mean … What do they say?” She shrugged. Did he want a rundown of everything or just an overview, but he spoke again quickly. “They ain’t tellin’ you to kill us all, right?”

"No. No." Dawn chuckled. “Nothing like that.”

"Good." He smiled, shrugging. “Den it’s fine. We’ll work it out.”

"It’s … “ She began again.

"Do not tell him." Ellie asked again, there was a pleading in her voice.

"It’s what?"

"It’s more than that." She stared down at the towel and remembered Quintus’ words to her that day. Do not shy away from your gifts. “I’m different now …”

"Different how?" He asked, sounding profoundly confused by her statement. “You look the same to me.”

"I can …" She gulped.

"Don’t." Ellie said again and Dawn ignored her … again.

"I can hear your heartbeat." She said it in a tiny whisper and Fet was taken aback by the confession, furrowing his brows deeply and then seeming to consider it for a moment.

"Oh."

"Yeah." She nodded and bit her lower lip, looking at his face in an attempt to read some sort of expression from it and he stared out to the water, furrowing his brows further.

"Uh … Dat’s kinda cool. I mean …" Did he just say cool? “I mean … you don’t wanna drink my blood or anything, huh?”

Dawn found herself giggling at the question and she suddenly loved the way this man could defuse even the most serious of conversations. "No. No." He had made her smile yet again.

"See!" Clasping a hand on her back he smiled again. “No problem den, huh? You just gotta talk to us about it. We’re all in dis together now.”

"You are being foolish." Ellie said. “They can’t understand what you are going through. You don’t even know what it is yet. Only I can understand your ache. Only I know what it’s like to--”

"O.K." She interrupted the voice and agreed with Fet full-heartedly.

"I do wanna hear about the rocket though." He pressed and she giggled again at his childlike enthusiasm. The anger dissipated and even though the sadness lingered, it felt so good to let some of it out into the open.

"We were in this high rise condo--" She started to tell her tale.

"Come on." He shifted, pulling his arm away from her and fumbling to his feet. “Come tell everyone. I don’t wanna have to retell it to Dutch later. She’s asks too many questions.”

"Do you really think …" Dawn looked up at him. “Do you really think they are happy ... wherever they are?”

"I do." He offered her a hand to help her stand but she ignored it, only nodding slowly. There was something reassuring in that sentiment, albeit sad and she bit her lip again, remembering the locket and the implications of her statement. “Just gimme a minute, O.K.?”

"Sure. But you are gonna come tell us dat story?" He smiled and asked and she nodded. As he began to turn, he hesitated, spinning back around and pointed at the towel. “Don’t throw dat in the ocean though, or we’ll have to get Gus to fish it out.” He chuckled at his own joke and walked back to the house alone, giving her a quiet moment to herself.

When she finally stood, brushing the sand away from her thighs and butt, clutching the towel to her breasts, she turned towards the apparition, who was still visibly annoyed with her disclosures to the giant man. Dawn glanced at Ellie’s bare feet yet again. Liar.

"You can’t trust them." Ellie said, trying to plant doubt. “They don’t understand what you are going through.”

"I don’t know if you’re real or not, but I don’t need you anymore."

"You will need me again. Don’t you want answers?"

"No. I don’t want to dwell on the past anymore … Yesterday is dead."

As she began her slow journey from the beach, from being alone and broken, into the brightness of the house’s interior, she turned back around and found that the woman had vanished entirely.

Good.

Note from Author:  This chapter was ... interesting to write.  I went back and forth quite a bit about how rich Q possibly is.  In the end, my Beta reader disagreed with me until I showed them the calculations and logic behind this assumption.

Beta Reader: BUT, if Q was this rich, he could have just bought the Lumen instead of having the Ancients back him.

Answer: Why?  At the time, Q didn’t care about the Lumen at all. He was just being the Ancients emissary on the matter.  Not until Abe mentioned it as bait did he become interested.  After its purchase, he was just gonna turn it over to his uncles anyways.

Beta Reader:  That’s really too much money for him to have.  Doesn’t make sense.  The Ancients only had like 300 million themselves.

Answer:  No.  The Ancients had over 323 million in GOLD sitting in some random account that they gave Setrakian access to.  There is NO WAY the Ancients would have given Setrakian ALL of their money.  Absolutely not.  They still had SHIT TONS .  It is canon that they helped facilitate the creation of the A-Bomb to begin with and you don’t do that without substantial influence.  They were richer than Palmer and Palmer had ‘billions’.

Beta Reader:  But, that’s the Ancients, not Q.

Answer: Q is smart, pragmatic and damn old.  This is just his liquid assets (cash), not his valuables nor his estates (which I am sure he has many).  With a little research (check this site here), “An investment of $100 in 1900 would be worth over $2,500,000 today”.

Also, like I said, liquid assests.  I’m sure he has lots of valuable squirreled away somewhere.  The last Van Gogh that sold went for $67 million, while Picassos have gone for upwards of $181 million.  And that is just art, I’m sure he has priceless relics and weapons galore.

As sad as it is to say, it’s actually not that impressive to be a millionaire anymore.  As of 2017, there are 2,043 Billionaires in the world.  I have no doubts that Quinlan, adding up his entire net worth, would be one of those.

[gotta-save-your-ass-for-a-change]

Who Would Have Thought?: Chapter 5

Chapter Title: Something in the Sky Fandom: Shameless, Mickey/Ian Rating: M Summary: Mickey and Ian start planning for their wedding, and Fiona makes some big decisions with Mickey’s help. Notes: I’m taking some liberties with s7 here. Kev, V, and Svet are still good. Monica never came back. And the timeline’s probably a little messed up, but overall, I’m using s7 as a base and going from there.

Also, if you couldn’t tell, I really love Fiona. Like really, really love Fiona. And I absolutely think she was 100% justified in every action she took in s7.

Title from Darren Hayes’s “Something in the Sky.”

Ao3 Link

Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight * Chapter Nine * Chapter Ten * Chapter Eleven * Chapter Twelve * Chapter Thirteen * Chapter Fourteen * Chapter Fifteen

“Hey, Mickey,” Fiona greets as he wanders into Wendell’s looking for her, “How’s it going?”

Mickey shrugs and leans back against the nearest machine. “Not bad. Not the biggest morning rush, but steady. How’s it going over here?”

“Pretty good,” Fiona admits, handing him a cup of coffee. “It’ll be a while before I start seeing any real profits, but that’s normal, from what I’m told. Family hates me, though. Thinks I’m a screw up.”

“You?” Mickey questions, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “They hate you for buying a laundromat?”

“Not exactly,” she explains, sipping at her own coffee. “They hate me ‘cause I asked them to start chipping in their share for bills. Ian seemed okay with it before he moved in with you, but Lip and Debbie are pretty pissed.”

Mickey scoffs. “Like they’ve got any right to be. You sacrificed your whole damn life for those kids. Raised ‘em when Frank refused. They’re grown now. It’s your turn. Nothin’ wrong with wanting to make something of yourself, Fiona. You shouldn’t feel sorry for that.”

Fiona stares at him for a moment in disbelief. She and Mickey had been getting on well since his return, but she hadn’t necessarily expected the direct support. “Wow,” Fiona continues to watch him for a moment, arms crossed over her chest and shock written across her features, “Not sure I expected my only line of support to come from Mickey Milkovich.”

Mickey laughs at that. “Yeah, well,” he offers, downing the last of his coffee with a shrug, “if it helps, you’ve got Ian’s support, too. He’s just trying to stay out of the way to avoid pissing off the entire family. We’ve been really happy lately. He doesn’t want to jeopardize that by starting shit with the family, you know.”

Fiona sighs and gives him a nod. “I get it. I’m glad you guys are so happy. Think it’s good for him, being with you.” Mickey smiles at that but doesn’t say anything, so Fiona continues. “So, you need anything in particular, Mick?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mickey nods, and suddenly he feels a little nervous, unsure about where everything stands. “Ian and I talked about it, and we think we might want to try for a real wedding. Figure you’re the only one who’s ever really planned one of these things, so we thought maybe you could help us out with that end of things. Don’t want anything crazy, you know. Just friends, family, and a bit of a party.”

Fiona lights up at the request, moving to pull Mickey into another uncomfortable hug. He’s still not used to the affection, and he’s tentative when he tries to hug her back. After a moment, he hears Fiona laugh. “Of course I’ll help,” she tells him with a smile. “You better get more comfortable with the hugging, though. You’re gonna be gettin’ a lot more of this now that you’re officially joining the family.”

Mickey rolls his eyes and pulls away with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” he shrugs, gesturing back toward the diner, “I’m gonna head back to work before things get busy. We’ll talk soon about the wedding plan.”

Fiona nods with a bright smile and gives him a little wave as he heads out the door, excitement seeping in for her little brother and the soft-hearted thug he’d fallen for.

“Hey, babe,” Ian greets as Mickey comes through the door. Ian had worked an early shift, and he’s been waiting impatiently for Mickey since he got home an hour ago. “You talk to Fi?”

Mickey presses a gentle kiss to Ian’s lips in greeting before tossing his jacket onto the nearby arm chair. “Yeah,” he affirms, making himself comfortable beside Ian, sitting close as Ian loops an arm around Mickey’s shoulders. “She’s happy to help. Seemed kind of excited actually. Your sister’s a shark, man. If anyone can get us the prices we need, it’s gonna be her. How we doin’ on the budget, anyway?”

“Not bad,” Ian shrugs. “It’s gonna be tight, but I think we can swing it. Depends on locations and stuff, but I figure if we go with the Alibi for the reception, we can probably get a decent ceremony space. Bet Kev’ll let us use the Alibi for free. Just have to pay for the booze.”

Mickey nods. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” After a moment, he continues, glancing up at Ian curiously. “You excited?”

The corners of Ian’s lips tip up in a little smile. “Gettin’ there,” Ian admits, pressing a kiss to the side of Mickey’s head. “Starting to feel more real, the longer we plan, you know? I feel like we might actually pull this off.”

“We will,” Mickey grins and pats the hand Ian has draped over his shoulder gently. “I’ll make sure of it. Gonna marry you, Ian. Not a damn thing on this earth is gonna stop me.”

A few days later, Mickey and Ian are hanging out at the Gallagher house, and Ian and Lip have stepped outside for a smoke, while Mickey and Fiona are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, nursing a couple of beers and trying to find their way out of the awkward small talk they’ve stumbled into. They’ve been unsuccessful so far, so they’ve fallen into quiet for a few long moments.

Finally, Fiona breaks the silence, avoiding Mickey’s eyes. “Thinking about selling the 'mat,” Fiona confides, giving Mickey a look of uncertainty. “Etta’s not doing well. Not sure how much longer she can take care of herself. Think she needs to be in assisted living. Plus, I was offered double what I paid to sell the place. Hundred and sixty thousand. Not sure I can turn it down.“ She pauses for a moment, staring down at the bottle dangling in her hand. "That make me a sellout?”

“Fuck, no,” Mickey counters from where he’s sitting beside Fiona. “That’s just fucking smart, Fiona. You’re Southside, you’re Southside. That doesn’t change just 'cause you make a little money.”

“Really?” Fiona questions with a raised eyebrow. “'Cause I seem to remember you calling out Lip for goin’ to college.”

“Lip’s an ass,” Mickey shoots back, and Fiona shrugs in acquiescence. She’s certainly not going to deny that one. “Plus, that wasn’t really about Lip. That was back when Ian had that bad break. I was struggling with it, too. Took it out on Lip. But seriously, Fiona. You deserve to make something of yourself. You’re good at this stuff, and yeah, you put a lot of work into that place, but you also deserve to get something out of it. For you.”

Fiona looks at Mickey for a moment, and she can’t help but smile. “Damn,” she finally says with a little huff of a laugh, “never thought you and I would get along so well. Second time you’ve offered your support in a week. Startin’ to feel like I got something to live up to.”

“Yeah, well,” Mickey shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest at the discomfort he feels at the affectionate smile Fiona’s throwing his way, “you raised Ian. Plus, you’re his favorite. Means I kinda gotta get along with you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Mick,” Fiona mocks with a smile as she bats at Mickey’s shoulder playfully. “You’ve got a soft spot for me.”

Mickey lets out a little laugh at that. She’s not wrong, he knows. Fiona’s strong, stronger than most, and he admires her for that. She’s got a big heart, and she deserves to make something of herself after devoting such an important chunk of her life to her siblings. Mickey’s not going to deny that.

“Hey,” Ian calls as he re-enters the room, shucking his coat on the way and leaning down to press a kiss to Mickey’s forehead from over the back of the couch. Mickey smiles and closes his eyes at the affection, leaning back against Ian. “What’re you guys chatting about,” Ian asks as Fiona’s fond smile catches his eye.

“Nothin’,” Fiona covers with a smile. “Nothin’ at all. Should probably talk about the wedding, though. Get the plans started.”

Ian nods at that, and Mickey raises a brow at Fiona. Part of him regrets the big wedding decision. Seems like all they do now is plan. Which would be okay, except since they’ve brought Fiona in on the planning phase, they haven’t had a whole lot of alone time to spend together, especially with work interfering. Mickey still smiles fondly, though, when Ian hops over the back of the couch and starts discussing dates and colors and whatever the hell else with his sister. Because as much as Mickey wants Ian all to himself, he’s also finding himself beginning to get excited about the whole thing, and he appreciates the help Fiona’s providing.

Later that night, Mickey’s fallen asleep on the couch, and Ian and Fiona have settled themselves in the kitchen in an attempt to avoid waking him.

“Mickey seems excited,” Fiona offers with a little smile. “It’s nice seeing him so happy. How’ve you guys been doing?”

“Good,” Ian confirms. “Happy. Past few weeks have been a little rough with the schedules. Haven’t had much alone time, you know? And I don’t even mean sex. Just, you know, not a lot of time to be with him. We’ve missed each other a little. We’ve managed to spend a decent amount of time with Yev, though, which is good. I can’t wait to be his step-dad officially. Mick has already taken to calling him our son, which I love. Be nice when it’s official, though.”

Fiona smiles softly. She knows everything that had gone down a couple of years before with Yev. Knows the story of his conception. And she’s impressed with Mickey’s ability to move past it all and love the little boy despite the circumstances. “Mickey really loves that little boy,” Fiona observes, catching Ian’s eye. “Impressed with the turn around there.”

“He always loved him,” Ian confides. “Just had trouble showing it around most people.”

“Let me guess,” Fiona gives Ian a fond little smirk with a raise of her eyebrows. “You’re not most people?”

“Thought you already knew that,” Ian jokes, “‘m about to be Mr. Mickey Milkovich.”

Fiona laughs at that, and her smile matches Ian’s, big and carefree. “What’re you guys thinking on your names, anyway? You gonna change ‘em? Officially become Mr. Ian Milkovich? Or is Mickey gonna become a Gallagher?”

Ian shrugs, uncertainty written across his features. “Not sure. We’ve talked about it a little. Our families are both a fuckin’ mess, though.” Ian laughs at that, but there’s mostly irritation behind it. And Fiona gets that. Neither family has a stellar history, that’s for sure. “Not sure we want to pass along either of the family names. Considering hyphenating. Gallagher-Milkovich. At least then it’ll be ours, right? Less negative history or some shit? Or maybe double. I don’t know. We haven’t really settled on anything yet.”

Fiona nods and she’s silent for a moment, eyeing Ian closely. “Talking about passing on the family name, huh?” Fiona questions. “You guys thinkin’ about having more kids?”

“Nah,” Ian denies with a shake of his head, “don’t mean it like that. I mean, it might be nice someday. But with Yev, it’s, uh, it’s tough, you know? Considering the circumstances of his conception. Mick’s just starting to learn how to be a dad to him. He wants to be, but it’s hard sometimes.” Ian’s silent for a moment, thinking back on that horrible morning when Terry had caught the two of them together. After a bit, he breaks the silence with a harsh laugh, no real humor behind it. “Guess on the bright side, we both got to be there for our son’s conception, huh?”

Fiona doesn’t laugh, just watches Ian carefully, eyes holding sympathy she knows Ian doesn’t want. “Terry was really a piece of work, huh?” she asks, voice gentle as she watches Ian with soft eyes.

“Understatement,” Ian tells her with a scoff, trying to hold back the tears that come to his eyes at the memories. “And I was shitty to Mick back then. Pushed him, you know? More than I should have. And I think part of it was the beginnings of the bipolar, mania, whatever. But part of it was just me, refusing to understand, unwilling to hear him. He was trying to protect me as much as he was himself. But I didn’t really get it because I grew up here. And as shitty as Frank and Monica may be, they never cared that I was gay. Everyone in my life has always been okay with it, at least peripherally. Mickey never had that. Didn’t have anyone supporting him or loving him for who he was.”

Fiona reaches out to squeeze Ian’s hand. “He had you,” she offers, and it provides a little bit of needed comfort for Ian.

“Just wish I’d loved him better,” Ian admits quietly.

Fiona smiles. “You’ve got the rest of your life to love him the way he deserves. He’s trusting you with that. Mickey loves you, Ian. He’s marrying you. You must’ve done something right.”

Ian smiles at that. She’s right, he knows, but it doesn’t stop him from regretting some of those choices. But then, Ian thinks, maybe they wouldn’t be here without all the tough times, and maybe that makes it all worth the suffering. Ian’s not sure, though. Still wishes he’d done better by Mickey. He resolves then to do exactly that for the rest of their lives together.

Ian nods at Fiona then and gives her a little smile. “Guess you’re right,” he agrees. “Now, how can we make this wedding perfect without breaking the bank?”

Fiona laughs at that, and pats Ian’s hand gently, accepting the change of subject happily. “Good question,” she offers, pulling out a frilly little notebook she’s insisting on using for the wedding planning. Ian rolls his eyes, but there’s a gentle fondness behind it, and he smiles at Fiona’s eagerness. She’s good at this stuff, he knows, and he trusts her to help them make the right decisions.

It’s been a couple of weeks, and they’ve been making some good headway in the wedding planning. Mickey’s starting to think they might have it all together, and he’s looking forward to making it all happen. First, though, he wants to get home to Ian, and spend some time just being with his husband-to-be.

Fiona stops him, though, when Mickey’s about to head out for the day, cornering him just before he reaches the front of the diner. “I called Ian,” she tells him excitedly. “He’s here, and we’re gonna talk about the wedding for a bit. I had some ideas I wanted to run by you guys. Will you stay? Help with the planning?”

Mickey smiles at her. He’s tired, worked a double shift and all, but all he wants right now is to be with Ian, so if Ian’s here, Mickey’s not going to argue. “'Course,” he agrees gently, shifting around her to move to the front of the diner to find Ian. Fiona sees right through him, he knows, and he can nearly feel the smirk she sends his way, but he doesn’t let it deter him. Just heads straight for Ian and kneels in the booth beside the redhead before leaning down to capture Ian’s lips in a quick kiss. Ian laughs a bit at the way Mickey’s fingers linger in his hair as Mickey slides down into the booth beside Ian. Ian loves the affection Mickey’s learned to show in public, and Mickey knows, so he offers those affections whenever he feels safe, and the diner does that for him now.

“Missed you,” Mickey murmurs, resting his head on Ian’s shoulder. They’ve both been picking up extra hours where they can, and Ian’s been on some early, early morning shifts with Mickey covering the late mornings and afternoons at the diner, sometimes staying on for a double like today and getting home late to a sleeping Ian. They’ve been trying to spend as much time together as possible, but they’re also working hard to pull off the wedding, and it’s all starting to weigh on them—especially the separation.

“Missed you, too, Mick,” Ian agrees as he wraps an arm around Mickey’s shoulders and kisses to top of his head, fingers stroking over Mickey’s upper arm as he tries to soothe the tired man in his arms.

“All right, lovebirds,” Fiona interrupts with a playful grin, whipping out her notebook and settling herself on the other side of the booth. “Time to get to work.”

Mickey groans and Ian laughs as he pulls away from Mickey just a touch so he can lean closer to the table to see her notes.

“Now,” Fiona starts, “we’ve got a decent plan started for the ceremony, and we’re doing good cost wise so far, but we need to get on a plan for the reception.”

“We can just potluck it,” Ian offers with a bit of a shrug. “Set up at the Alibi, you know. Kev’ll let us do it for free, I bet.”

“Yeah, but the Alibi’s a hike from the ceremony spot,” Fiona counters. “You ever think about doing it here? In the diner? Could give you a good price. Might even be able to get it free, 'cept the booze, but I bet Kev would comp you that. Wedding gift and all. We’ve got good food. Could open the whole menu, not worry about rsvp meal cards or whatever. Not a lot of room to dance, but we can make it work. Done it before, with the launch party. And your guest list isn’t crazy, only about thirty people, right? We could do that easy. Bet the girls would be happy to chip in and waitress. I’ll pay 'em extra, and once everyone’s fed, they can join the party. I mean, I get it if you’re not interested—diner’s not exactly a traditional party place—but we could make it happen if you’re into the idea.”

Ian and Mickey are both staring at her with wide eyes, brows drawn together at Fiona’s enthusiasm, and neither of them can help the smiles that tug at their lips as they watch her.

After a moment of silence, Fiona drops her eyes back to the notebook. “You hate it,” she blurts, worried that they’re uninterested and feeling a little insecure but waving it off. “It’s all right. We can just go with the Alibi. I’ll talk to Kev tomorrow, and we’ll nail it down, and—”

Ian reaches out then, laying a hand over Fiona’s gently to stop her from crossing out the notes she has scribbled on the page in front of her. “Fi,” he offers gently, calling her eyes up to his, “we love it. It sounds amazing. Can we really pull it off?”

Fiona stops, looking up at them with soft eyes and a touch of question. “Really?” she asks quietly. “You like it? Both of you?” She’s looking at Mickey now, unsure but hopeful.

Mickey gives her a genuine smile. “I think it’s perfect,” he confirms, and he means it. “You can make it happen?”

“Absolutely!” Fiona confirms excitedly. “I can make it happen.”

Ian smiles and shoves at Mickey’s shoulder until he groans and lets Ian out of the booth before Mickey collapses back down into the cushioned seat dramatically and Ian rolls his eyes. “Make it happen,” Ian tells Fi happily as he leans down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Fi.”

She smiles proudly and waves him off. “No problem. I’m gonna make sure you two have the perfect wedding. Just leave it to me, okay?”

“Will do,” Ian agrees. “Got any more ideas you want to run by us today, or can I take my drama queen of a fiancé home to sleep it off.”

“Yeah. Sleep. Sure,” Fiona laughs with playful sarcasm, as she waves a hand in Ian’s direction. “Go, go. Take your man home and spoil him. I’ll let you know when I’ve got more for you to approve.”

“Thanks, Fi,” Ian repeats as he grabs at Mickey’s hands and tries to pull him up. “Okay asshole,” he chastises, “get up so I can take you home.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey shoots back. “This is my home now. I’m not fuckin’ moving until I’ve gotten at least six hours of sleep.”

“I will leave your ass here,” Ian threatens with a raised brow, and it pulls a heavy sigh out of Mickey.

“Fuckin’ fine, man,” he agrees begrudgingly. “But I’m fucking sleeping when I get home.”

“Whatever you say,” Ian rolls his eyes in Fiona’s direction as she smirks at the two of them as Ian steers Mickey out of the diner after dragging him up from the booth.

Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight * Chapter Nine * Chapter Ten * Chapter Eleven * Chapter Twelve * Chapter Thirteen * Chapter Fourteen * Chapter Fifteen

[hipsofsteel]

Find Out For Yourself

A RusCan fic written during FemSlash February 2015 (FrUk and eventual AmeBel as well) 

Prompt: Person A goes by an alias, to the annoyance of B. The only way B will learn A’s name is to “find that out for yourself.”

Anya Braginsky has been using an underground social site for years to speak to other members of the LGBTQ community. Her best friend is a user named MapleBabe, who was her first friend online. Two years after their first online meeting, they both agree to go to Hetalia University, and MapleBabe challenges Anya to discover who she really is. While trying to figure out the mystery, Anya meets Madeline Bonnefoy, a fellow member of the school's women hockey team, and develops a close friendship, all while still trying to discover and meet MapleBabe. She might be a bit closer than she thinks.

PS This work features Trans Girl America

[Chapter Masterpost Here]

Chapter One: Mystery

There’s always those ‘shady’ sites on the web. People assume that if you’re on them, you’re a bad kid or a pervert.

There’s one site though, that I love. It’s a chatroom site designed to bring in the closet kids to a safe place. There’s escape buttons on every page, and you can find support from people going through the same problems as you.

So, I guess that’s why I’ve been using this profile to meet people for the last two years.

My actual name is Anya Braginsky, though my online friends call me AnyaBee. I’ve known that I’m a lesbian from the time I realized some women like other women more than men.

I’ve never actually dated a girl. The town I’m living in is far too narrow-minded for that.

Next week though, I leave for college.

My laptop dings, and I pick it up.

MapleBabe is online.

Ah. My best friend.

AnyaBee: Hey, how’s it going tonight?

MapleBabe: Am I allowed to murder my little brother?

AnyaBee: What did he do this time?

MapleBabe: He decided it was cool to draw penises all over my sketchbook cover.

AnyaBee: What is he, twelve?!

MapleBabe: I know. I have to go burn the front cover now and purify my sketchbook. I was so fuckin pissed.

AnyaBee: So, ready for college?

MapleBabe: Yep. I guess we’ll finally see each other at some point, since we’re both going to Hetalia University.

AnyaBee: It would help if you told me your name. You know mine already.

MapleBabe: Well, you’ll just have to find that out for yourself, Anya.

We’ve been talking to each other nearly the whole time I’ve been on this website. Part of the reason why I haven’t actually dated anyone is because I want to meet Maple first. She’s sweet and funny, and rarely swears, unless her brother’s an idiot. However, she’s also a pro at online security. No real name, just that same phrase. You’ll just have to find that out for yourself. Drives me crazy in both bad and good ways.

We talk for a while longer, until the message MapleBabe has escaped appears on my screen. That’s the nice thing about this site. It informs you if they just disconnected or hit the escape button. Makes it easier to figure out if you want to keep messaging someone.

I lean back, sighing. I hope I’ll be able to meet up with Maple eventually.

Hetalia University is a small private school. It’s got a huge expanse of private property to it’s name, and the campus is a gorgeous green in the middle of a big city.

Really, it was the only option I even considered when I was looking at schools. Big city instead of small town, amazing science program, and a huge GSA.

And I got a dorm with one of my best childhood friends, Odeta Laurintinas.

“Oh wow. This room is just for two people?” She stated when we entered. There was a oven and stove, a decent sized fridge and mini-freezer, and two awesome comfy beds, along with a shower-tub.

“Basically a giant badass hotel room without the TV.” I said after examining the room.

She nodded, and we settled in for the night.

I was here at Hetalia on scholarship, for which I had no shame. I was here as a player on their women’s hockey team. They were one of the few schools to offer it.

So the next day I went to meet my coach and some of my teammates.

I was a tall woman, and I almost always ended up playing offensive, which I didn’t mind. Some of the older girls greeted me with smiles.

Coach Baudin grinned. “It’s good to see you again, Anya. You’re one of two new players to join us this year.”

I nodded. “It’s good to be here.”

At that moment, another player came out onto the ice. “Coach Baudin, I’m sorry I’m late.”

The coach turned, as did I. A small blond woman was skating out towards us. “Ah, good to see you Maddie. Girls, this is Madeline Bonnefoy, our other new edition to the team. She’ll be playing defense.”

She smiled. I was a little curious. I was the tallest of the girls, but most of them were either fairly tall or pretty broad. Madeline was a whisp. How’d she even get on the team?

I soon found out.

It was a usual test to put the new kids on opposite teams and see how well they did with the team and against each other.

Almost every time I got to the goal, Maddie was there, trying to steal the puck from me. Needless to say, we were fairly bruised by the end, especially when I slammed into her at one point and we both went down.

AnyaBee is online

AnyaBee: Well, I hurt in places I didn’t even know existed.

MapleBabe: What happened?

AnyaBee: Hockey practice was extremely brutal. I went up against the other new player. Nice girl, kinda small for a defense player, but she was super good.

MapleBabe: We small people have to establish we can kick the tall people’s asses sometimes, or else they forget to respect us.

AnyaBee: I know, but ouch at the same time...

MapleBabe: Well, how goes the search for my true name?

AnyaBee: I’ve literally been here two days, don’t get angry at me yet.

MapleBabe: I’m not angry, just curious.

AnyaBee: I’ve got a class early tomorrow morning, so I’m gonna sign off now.

MapleBabe: Okay. Good night.

AnyaBee: Good night.

I leaned back into my bed, glad for Advil. Odeta was watching Chopped as a study break. She was surrounded by medical textbooks.

“What’s the weirdest item in the current basket?”

“Fruit loops.”

“Mm, remind me to get some of those for breakfast sometime.”

“K.”

MapleBabe: Whatcha have for breakfast this morning?

AnyaBee: Fruit loops in my dorm room.

MapleBabe: Shame. Twas pancake day in the cafeteria. They actually make awesome pancakes. I was expecting something from the microwave.

AnyaBee: Given how much we’re paying them, they’d better not fed us microwave pancakes if we decide to buy food.

MapleBabe: It’s pancake day every Tuesday.

AnyaBee: I’m receiving the hint, my dear. However, trying to find out who you are is not going to be narrowed down much when we are surrounded by other people.

MapleBabe: But not all of them will be eating pancakes.

AnyaBee: Wow, that makes it so much easier…

AnyaBee: Do you know that there were exactly sixty-seven girls eating pancakes this morning in the cafeteria?

MapleBabe: Sixty-eight if we count you.

AnyaBee: Har har har how do you know I didn’t smuggle in some oatmeal?

MapleBabe: That’s easy. I saw you.

AnyaBee: ...

AnyaBee: ...

AnyaBee: you’re kinda mean, you know that?

MapleBabe: Well, that’s not very nice.

Maple and I talked nearly every day, though not very long after hockey practice, because I was usually ready to pass out.

In hockey however, I struck up a friendship with Maddie. She was gorgeous, and loved the sport. I learned she’d been raised by two dads. Her papa had gotten married to another man when she was about five.

“And that’s how I got a younger sibling. No actual relation, just by marriage. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love them.”

“I’ve got two sisters. One older, one younger. Their names are Sofia and Natalia.”

“Oi, Bonnefoy, Braginsky, get over here.”

“Yes Coach!” We both shouted and then skated over.

MapleBabe: So, have you come to any conclusions on my identity yet?

AnyaBee: No.

MapleBabe: We’ve been in school two months. I’m at pancake day every day, eating pancakes.

AnyaBee: Yeah, I’ve narrowed that list down to about fourteen girls you could be.

MapleBabe: I saw you had eggs this morning.

AnyaBee: I’m not as loyal to pancakes as you must be.

MapleBabe: Only because they are delicious and one can cover them in syrup and also it’s not just flapjacks. There are crepes, potato pancakes, all sorts of flat, delicious food you can make in a pan.

AnyaBee: Like hamburgers.

MapleBabe: Now you just sound like my brother…

Winter break came, and with it, dread.

I didn’t want to go home to see my family. If it was just my sisters, I would be fine, but my parents were not people I wanted to be around.

When I told Maddie about my dread, she nodded. “I just might have a solution.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. My papa loves having people over for Christmas. Dad’s not particularly social, but if papa insists, he’ll be fine. So, why don’t you come over to my house for Christmas?”

I paused. “Maddie, what religion are you?”

“Well, it’s weird. Papa is Catholic, dad’s Church of England, and both Alfred and I are protestant.”

“I’m Eastern Orthodox. I don’t actually celebrate Christmas on December 25th. I celebrate Epiphany on January 6th.”

Maddie paused. “Well, then there will just have to be a second celebration for Epiphany at my house.”

MapleBabe: So how’s it going?

AnyaBee: I’m fairly happy. I don’t have to go home for Christmas.

MapleBabe: Really? Where are you going?

AnyaBee: To Maddie’s house. She’s the other freshman hockey player, in case you don’t remember.

MapleBabe: Oh no, my Anya’s going to another girl’s house! How dreadful! I must speak to this Maddie and tell her you’re off-limits!

AnyaBee: Are you trying to write a jealousy sub-plot into my friendship?

MapleBabe: No, I’m being a sarcastic butt.

AnyaBee: I was also being sarcastic.

MapleBabe: Love you.

AnyaBee: Love you too.

Maddie’s house was a strange culture clash in a way.

I met her papa Francis. He was borned and raised in France, and seemed to be a flirtatious man, though Maddie told me despite the demeanor, he was only in love with her dad.

Arthur Kirkland was a stiff-backed, permanently on edge Englishman. He and Francis were always having little arguments, but you could tell there wasn’t any real venom in their voices. It was more like their way of teasing each other.

Maddie’s brother was a sophomore in high school. Alfred Kirkland spent most of his time in his room, ignoring us.

“He’s been acting weird lately. Don’t worry, it’s not you.”

I spent most of my time in Maddie’s room, and there I finally confided to her.

“I’m a lesbian.”

She looked at me, and then nodded. “Okay.”

She was the first person I’d ever actually said the words to, and soon I found myself spilling out everything. How I figured it out, joining the website, meeting MapleBabe, how I knew she was a student at Hetalia, but I still wasn’t sure who. How I thought I loved her, but I was beginning to feel like maybe she was just toying with me.

“I mean, I know she’s just worried about her life being compromised, but I just wish I knew who she was. It would make it hurt less when she tells me how good I’m doing in hockey, or how she knew what I had for breakfast on Pancake Tuesday.”

Maddie nodded. “That sounds pretty rough, Anya. I’m sorry.”

“The worst thing is just not knowing.”

She nodded, and then took my hand. “It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

MapleBabe: How are you, y dear?

AnyaBee: Good.

MapleBabe: Happy Epiphany.

AnyaBee: Thanks.

AnyaBee: BTW, you left the M off my.

MapleBabe: M

AnyaBee: Wow, such fix.

MapleBabe: Wow, such grammer you has.

MapleBabe: We’re a back at the old Hetalia University.

AnyaBee: Yep.

MapleBabe: Random question, have you ever just said Hetalia over and over again.

AnyaBee: No…

MapleBabe: It’s really fun. Try it.

AnyaBee: No thanks.

MapleBabe: Fine. HETALIA HETALIA HETALIA HETALIA HETALIA HETALIA HETALIA HETALI-

MapleBabe: -A

AnyaBee has disconnected

MapleBabe: Fine, spoilsport.

Christmas had been good. Maddie’s whole family respected my religion, and Francis even offered to drive me to the nearest Eastern Orthodox Church, which I accepted.

After I came back from services, Maddie handed my a little box. “I thought you might like this when I saw it.”

I lifted the lid off the box, and inside, made of colored glass, was a sunflower.

“You had the image taped in your locker of a big Mammoth Russian sunflower, and I thought you might…”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Maddie.”

She smiled, and I nearly said something, but then stopped myself.

“Oh, and we made something special for you for dinner.”

I raised an eyebrow, and Maddie guided me into the kitchen-dining room. Francis had just finished setting the table. He turned and smiled. “I looked up some recipes online. I hope that nothing seems like I was stereotyping your heritage.”

Breads, fish, soups, and more. It seemed like an attempt at a nice Russian meal with a French twist.

“Thank you, Francis. I…” I wanted to cry, in a way. “It’s…”

“You don’t have to say anymore, Anya.” He smiled at me. “I’m just glad that you’re having a good time.”

MapleBabe: Do you miss your parents a lot?

AnyaBee: No. I miss my sisters. Sofia moved out, and she’s living with other people, but it’s too close to feel like I can visit. And poor Natalia’s got another two years before she can leave.

MapleBabe: I’m sorry.

AnyaBee: What about you?

MapleBabe: I had a really nice Christmas at home, though my brother decided to hide nearly the whole time. I wasn’t sure if I was glad or mad about it. I mean, I haven’t really got to see him since I left in the fall.

AnyaBee: Well, he’ll come to realize how awesome you are eventually.

MapleBabe: Oh god, you sound like one of my uncles. He never stops saying awesome.

MapleBee: It’s probably the first world he learned. Just like “Awesome blah blah awesome awesome awesome ME!”

AnyaBee: I will try to avoid accidentally impersonating your uncle in the future.

MapleBabe: Ow...

AnyaBee: What happened?

MapleBabe: Roommate threw her DD bra in my face. She just finished her laundry.

AnyaBee: At least it’s clean…?

MapleBabe: WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!

MapleBabe: And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end. We are the champions. We are the champions. No time for losers...

AnyaBee: Are you going to keep typing Queen lyrics?

MapleBabe: Shut up.

MapleBabe: And yes.

MapleBabe: 'Cause we are the champions...

MapleBabe: OF THE WORLD!!!

AnyaBee: I see you have heard the hockey results.

MapleBabe: My dear, I was there cheering you on.

AnyaBee: I’m glad you were able to come today.

MapleBabe: Yep. Though to be honest, I kinda think we need to change the spelling of hockey.

AnyaBee: ...Why?...

MapleBabe: Just think about it. Hock-i

MapleBee: Except without the dash.

MapleBabe: It’s Tuesday, oh glorious pancake TuEsday!

AnyaBee: I’ve narrowed it down to eight.

MapleBabe: It’s February 7th. You’ve got a few more days until the day of love. Which coincidentally, is the next Pancake day.

AnyaBee: Whee, thanks for reminding me.

MapleBabe: Yee of so little faith. I’ve been giving you clues since January.

AnyaBee: What are you talking about?

MapleBabe: I knew that by keeping this game going so long, you were gonna need some help. Go back to our chats since New Year’s, and use your code-breaking skills to find my hints.

AnyaBee: Alright. I’ll play along for now.

I groaned, and Odeta looked over. “You okay?”

“Supposedly I’ve been missing the coded message this girl has been sending me.”

Odeta paused. “Remember when we used to pass coded notes back and forth?”

“Yeah.”

“She’ll have probably used something that hid in plain sight. Otherwise it would have been too obvious.”

“Very helpful.”

Odeta shrugged, and returned to her textbook.

Two days later, I sat in the library, thinking.

Maddie came up. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, just that Maple told me she’s been sending me coded messages since January.”

“A code? That’s kinda cool. Alfred and I used to send each other coded messages.”

“What type of code did you use?”

“Oh, I’d purposely misspell a word, and the missing letter or capitalized one was one of the letters in the word. Then I put them in order to spell the word.”

I paused. “That’s a weird code.”

“But it worked. Papa and dad never figured it out.”

Maddie’s phone suddenly started ringing. “Oh, I’ve got to take this. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, same.”

I waited until Maddie had left, and then I tried her code. Maple was almost always a proud member of the grammar and spelling police. Misspells or weird spellings would be obvious.

M

A

I

E

MapleBabe: So, any luck today?

AnyaBee: Maie.

MapleBabe: No.

AnyaBee: The M left off of my, the hetali-A, the suggestion to spell hockey hock-i, and TuEsday.

MapleBabe: So close. You are so close!

AnyaBee: But not right?

MapleBabe: No, not right.

I might have just slammed my head into a brick wall. I paused before typing again.

AnyaBee: Where are the missing letters?

MapleBabe: MA-IE

AnyaBee has disconnected.

I found the date window in which I was looking at, and re-read every entry.

No misspells or strange grammar.

“Where are you, Maple?”

I scrolled through it again when I found the comment about her uncle. I stopped to laugh, until I realized that she’d capitalized ME

MAMEIE wasn’t a name though, unless Maple’s parents had an unusually cruel sense of humor.

I started to scroll down again, and then stopped.

MapleBabe: Roommate threw her DD bra in my face. She just finished her laundry.

DD…

I wrote it down, wondering, doubting.

But the name in front of me was one I knew.

MADDIE