#my teacher asked me what my friends thought about me going into welding i had to improvise and say they were supportive but in a teasing way

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Okay, I know I'm a fandom art blog, but would anyone be interested in seeing my welds?

[miss-andromeda]

Standing Alone In A Crowded Room

Universe: TMNT 2012

Turtle of Choice: Donatello

Prompt: Character A is found by Character B crying themselves to sleep.

Song Inspirations: The Story Of Us (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift, What If It Doesn’t End Well by chloe moriondo

This is non-canon, though if it were, it would take place in season 2, so Andi and Donnie are in a relationship.

----------

A gentle knock at the lab door didn’t stop Donnie from welding together the pieces of scrap metal as he merely called out a “what is it?” That earned him a snicker (which immediately made him put down the blowtorch) and a “wow, way to greet your girlfriend, Don.”

That made him look up at the girl in the doorway, making him subconsciously smile. “Hey, you, how was school?” He asked, standing up and going to kiss her as a greeting. 

Once he pulled away, Andi smiled up at him as she put her backpack down and put her rosy pink cardigan on top of it. “Pretty good, though I have something to ask.” She told him, making Donnie nod and lead her over to the lab desk so she could sit next to him. 

After they were both sitting down (and Donnie was giving her his full attention,) she took a breath and smiled softly at him. “So, uh…Roosevelt’s hosting a dance this Saturday at 7 pm, and I figured, since, you know, we’re dating, that…maybe you could, um…go with me? You can use that watch again and be my date.”

Donnie was immediately about to nod and smile, but then he remembered the day and gave her an apologetic look. “Hon, you know I absolutely would in a heartbeat, but I can’t. We have patrol in the evening, and then I need to finish working on this new upgrade of the shuriken stars we always use. I’m thinking of seeing if I can add a type of oxidizer, kind of like a smoke bomb and a throwing star rolled into one.” He explained, but sighed at the sad look on her face. He hated seeing her like that. “You know I would absolutely go if I could, but it’s super important that I have them done by then.”

“I know.” Andi mumbled, standing up to grab her backpack so she could start her calculus homework. “I was just…looking forward to going with you.” She admitted, making Donnie lean in and give her an apologetic kiss on the cheek. 

“I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

----------

The next day found Andi walking alone to lunch - April had decided to stay after biology for extra credit and knowing Casey, he was being chastised by Mrs. Biers, his and April’s trig teacher, for being on the fringes of failing…again. 

Ah, she’d deal with him when the time came. 

She spared a glance at her purple binder (she had decided to bring some work while she waited for her friends…well, friend and Casey) and smiled to herself at the little picture she’d taken of Donnie, where he was in the middle of reading a book to her on the rare time they decided to have some downtime. 

Even when she was a little upset with him, she could never stay mad at him for too long.

“Hey, Andi! Can I talk to you?” 

She was stopped from walking as she caught a glimpse of shaggy, light brown hair running toward her. He looked…vaguely familiar, his name was…Josh, right?

“Hi.” His smile reminded her of Donnie, maybe it was because of the slight dorkiness of it or the fact that just like him, he had a gap as well. 

“Uh, hi, um…why did you want to talk to me?” She asked, slightly confused.

“Oh, right! I wanted to ask you something! About the dance this Saturday! Um, do you have a date?”

Andi’s heart dropped at that. “I, um…thought I did.” When Josh gave her a sympathetic look, she shook her head. “Long story. So what, do you want to go with me or something?”

At the question, Josh’s hazel eyes lit up and a smile graced his face. “Yeah, I do! You seem like a nice girl, and I wanna get to know you a little better! And what better way to do that than to take you to a dance?”

Andi hesitated at that. It sounded and felt wrong to agree…but at the same time, she wasn’t going with Donnie anytime soon. 

But she needed to make one thing clear. “If we go, we go as friends. I have a boyfriend, and the last thing I want him to think is that you and I are going as a couple.” She then looked directly in his eyes. “And if you try anything, you’re a dead man, you hear me?”

Seemingly unphased by her bluntness, Josh gave her a confident smile. “Got it! Yeah, we’ll just go as friends, no romantic motives here!”

Andi stared at him for a moment at the odd choice of wording, but finally nodded and gave in, writing down her number and address on a piece of scrap paper, then handing it to him. “Pick me up at my apartment at 6:30, okay?”

Josh gave her another smile as he pocketed the paper. “Yeah, sounds like a plan!”

“Cool, okay, um…well, I’ve got to get to lunch, my friends are probably waiting for me. Bye.” Andi gave him a slightly awkward wave as she walked away, immediately staring at the picture again. It somehow felt gross and weird again…but at the same time, there was only so much she could do in a situation with this. She already told him that they were strictly going as friends, so if he made any moves on her, that was on him. She could just hold her gun to him and that would get him off her back, and then she could just leave and tell Donnie what happened.

And speaking of Donnie…how was she going to explain it to him? She wasn’t necessarily cheating, but still…it just felt weird.

She let out a little sigh at the thought. This was going to be interesting to spell out…

----------

Standing in front of the lab door never felt more intimidating. But she had to be honest with him, the worst thing he could do was get frustrated with her…

But that was the thing. She hated when he was frustrated with her, especially because of something she did. 

A deep, quiet sigh left her lips one more time as she bit the bullet and knocked on the door. Once again, another “what is it?” was heard from the other side, making her smile weakly. “Can I come in?”

She could practically hear his lips quirk into a smile as he replied, “Yeah, of course, hon!” She held her breath as she pushed the door open, meeting his bright eyes with her guilty, green ones. “Hey.”

Immediately, Donnie’s eyes shifted from joyous to concerned - and so did his tone. “Are you okay? You look pensive.” 

Andi’s automatic response was to say she was fine, but she knew if she did, Donnie would tell her she was hiding something - and that would make things even worse. She shook her head and walked over to the lab desk, sitting next to him. “I, um…need to tell you something.”

His gaze then became more concerned as he placed a hand on her back comfortingly. “Of course, what’s going on?”

That little touch made her want to cry. 

“I, um…” She sighed and bit the bullet again, looking down at the table. “There was this kid earlier today, he, um…came up to me, and asked if I had a date to the dance this Saturday. I, uh…I said no.” At that, she could feel his touch leave her back, making her want to start crying again. “And then he asked if I wanted to go with him, and I said yes, but I made it clear that we were going as friends only.”

When she looked back up, Donnie was looking away from her - his eyes stormy and misty from unshed tears. “But…you still said yes?”

“Yes, but we’re only going as-”

“I don’t care what you’re going as!” His tone turned angry as his head snapped over to look at her. “You’re gonna be some other guy’s girlfriend for the night?”

Stunned, Andi shook her head. “It’s not like that! I explicitly told him that he’d better not try anything with me, and that I have a boyfriend!”

“That’s right, you have a boyfriend. But I guess you forgot about that when you agreed to be that guy’s date! What, just because I told you I couldn’t do something with you this one time, that means you have the right to be some other guy’s girlfriend for the night?!”

Now Andi was starting to get irritated as she angrily stood up. “What part of ‘we’re going as friends’ do you not understand, you idiot?! I only agreed because I knew he was going to bother me about it, and I made sure he knows that it’s only platonic! It doesn’t mean anything!”

Donnie stood up next to her, his eyes blazing with anger. And out of anger, he said the one thing that he knew would hurt her:

“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

Immediately, her face dropped and tears filled her eyes, but her face got red with anger. “Are you actually accusing me of not loving you anymore?” She told him, her voice quiet but filled with rage.

While Donnie’s heart split at seeing her cry (especially because of him,) he was still more hurt and angry than remorseful in the moment. “If you really did love me, Andromeda, you never would’ve accepted that guy’s offer to take you out.”

She scoffed and shook her head, tears now freely falling. “You know what? Forget you, Donatello. I���m going with him. I bet he’d be more fun than you would ever be.”

More hurt and anger controlled what he said - even if he knew that he would never mean what he said in a million years. “You know what, he probably is. If anything happens, don’t bother letting me know. Clearly your new boyfriend has you taken care of.”

Andi only scoffed, grabbed her bag and stormed out of the lair.

----------

And before either of them knew it, Saturday evening was here. 

They hadn’t talked since the fight - no calls, no video chat, no texts, nothing. Both of them were practically waiting for the other to just give in and reach out - and when that wouldn’t be the case, they would both do their best to try and go on with their day, their hearts breaking as they did so. 

As expected, Donnie had filled the void with experimenting - but it felt a bit more empty without seeing Andi alongside him. Her witty humor, sarcastic remarks, bright laugh…she added a new layer that Donnie had gotten comfortably used to when he was working. 

Without her, it felt like a piece of his scientific mind was missing. 

But then he glanced at the time and, seeing it was 6:30 pm, he rolled his eyes and went back to his work. Andi’s date would likely be picking her up soon…just the thought filled him with jealousy again. Someone else, touching his beautiful girlfriend…

He shook the thought out of his mind before he got even more distracted. She made her decision, and now he was making his. 

And even if he knew that he was being petty, he didn’t necessarily care at the moment. 

It was the principle that mattered…even if it was a pretty stupid principle.

----------

Meanwhile, Andi had just finished getting herself ready (the makeup took her longer than expected) and had just walked into the living room, her 2-inch heels clacking softly against the wooden floor. She looked nice - even if internally, she felt conflicted to the fourth degree. 

She still felt guilty about accepting Josh’s invitation, but at the same time…Donnie had said he wasn’t going with her. And why was she about to stop herself from enjoying her night when someone else (and seemingly, a perfectly normal someone else) offered to be her date - even if they were just going as friends?

It was the principle that mattered. 

And besides, there was something oddly cathartic about going to a party (or in this case, a school dance) after getting in a fight with him. Obviously, she wasn’t going to do anything she would really regret (and risk losing him for good,) but the idea of seeing her friends (or rather, friend and Casey - again) dressed up, dancing to the most popular songs and getting to know someone in Josh…didn’t seem like a bad idea. 

Maybe after the night was over, Donnie would wisen up and send an apology. 

Taking a breath in the mirror, Andi did a final one-over at herself. Her dress was cute; a pink hem dress with a high a-line - even if seeing his necklace made her heart crack. Her hair was teased and in a high ponytail, and a matching pink ribbon was tied into a bow to secure it. And her makeup…it took time, but she pulled it off. Much like what April normally did for her, a neutral look was the way to go for her. Foundation, concealer, pink lip gloss - but what was different (and what she was surprised that she pulled off) was the winged eyeliner and mascara that made her green eyes pop.

It made her look even better than she thought she would. 

She checked her phone (and after rolling her eyes at no contact from Donnie,) she saw the time - 6:40 pm. While she was a bit miffed that he was late, she could excuse it. He was probably running late and was on his way now. 

Still, it would’ve been nice to have a heads up. 

Deciding not to check her phone again, she grabbed her copy of War and Peace and continued reading; maybe by the time she finished a chapter, she would get some type of heads up from Josh, or better yet, he would be knocking on her door. 

“In the count’s room, which was full of tobacco smoke, they talked of the war that had been announced in a manifesto, and about the recruiting. None of them had yet seen the manifesto, but they all knew it had appeared.”

----------

“Gone? That’s all right!” said he; and looking angrily at the unconscious little princess, he shook his head reprovingly and slammed the door.”

10 chapters later, and still no Josh. 

Angrily closing her book, Andi grabbed her phone - for two reasons this time. The time (which was now 7:45 pm), and to demand some answers. 

She saw the missed messages from April, stemming from ‘Aren’t you on your way?’ to ‘Want me and Casey to come get you?’ to ‘Andi seriously, let me know what’s going on’.

She only responded with, ‘I’m calling him now. Don’t think I’m gonna come, because if I see him, I’ll beat his face in.’

She then used the number Josh had used to text her days before and called, her face red with anger. She was just about to start demanding where he was when he answered with a “hello?”, but then stopped when he heard another voice next to him. 

A girl’s voice. 

“Uh, did you forget we were supposed to go together? What happened to that?” She told him, her tone inches away from boiling over into full-blown anger.

“Oh, yeah, uh…look, Andi…I wasn’t really serious when I asked that. Uh, can I explain?”

Andi rolled her eyes and scoffed at the wording. ”Yeah, I’d like an explanation.”

“So look, I only asked you if you’d go with me ‘cause…well, then I could tell everyone I got another girl to be my date. And it spread to Becca, you know her, and…well, she told me yesterday that she wanted to get back with me, and she missed me, and I ended up askin’ her. I didn’t really know how to tell you, so I just…didn’t.”

At the explanation (and the half-baked way he said it,) Andi had to hold back from calling him as many expletives as she could think up. “So I was just a-”

Before she could say ‘rebound,’ Josh hung up on her, leaving her stunned for a second. 

And then she started to cry.

Throwing her phone aside, she grabbed a pillow to stuff her face into it (she was so relieved it could be washed), sniffling and whimpering pathetically. It wasn’t that she was angry because she had feelings for him - honestly, she couldn’t care less about him. 

It was two different reasons: she hated feeling used (and for such a dumb reason as being a rebound,) and that this was the reason she and Donnie had gotten into that fight. 

Donnie…just remembering him made Andi’s head shoot up, her pillow now stained with mascara. 

Now it was being used to catch more mascara-laden tears as she grabbed her phone again and went to the messages app. She was tempted to text April first and explain what was going on, but she stopped herself. 

Right now, she needed her turtle. 

So instead of going to April’s contact name, she went to Donnie’s and typed in a message for him:

‘Hey…look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but hear me out. I’m so sorry for what happened, it was really selfish of me to accept his offer to the dance. I was too focused on having a good time that I didn’t even think about you. Makes sense why you would think that way, it does look a little bad when your girlfriend is going as someone else’s date, friend or not. 

The other reason I’m sending this is because…I’m home. That boy ended up being a real jerk, and he flat-out told me he was just using me - and then ended up standing me up. I understand if you don’t want to, but if you could come over…it would really help. 

And if it helps…I love you.’

She sniffled as she sent the message, then immediately put her phone down and curled up on the couch, closing her eyes.

It wasn’t like she expected a response.

----------

Donnie read the message three times over just to ensure that he wasn’t hallucinating. 

All of his frustration and anger towards her faded away as he read it over - she apologized (which he was appreciative of,) but then it came back as he kept going. 

But not to her, to that simpleton who thought it was okay to stand her up. 

He was about to send back a reply, but went against it - deciding it was smarter to do what she asked and run to her. 

Hopefully she was still in a mood to see him.

----------

By the time he made it, his heart split at the sight.

Andi was still in her dress, but her makeup was smudged and messy and her ribbon had been discarded on the table. Her heels had been tossed to the side - right by the door, And she looked to be…quietly snoring.

And if he looked closely, he could see faded mascara lines on her cheeks and on her pillow. 

If he didn’t feel like scum before, he absolutely did now.

Quietly opening the window, he crept inside and walked over to her, gently shaking her shoulder. When she jumped awake, he gave her an apologetic look. “Hi.”

“Don…?”

“It’s me, enchantress.”

The room was quiet as Donnie stepped in front of her, then kneeled down to face her and grab her hands. “I got your message.”

“You did?”

He only nodded. “I am so sorry for what happened. I was being jealous for no reason and I wasn’t bothering to listen and hear you out. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt…believe me, I know you would never do anything to hurt me in a million years. It was just…the idea of you being with someone else, even if it was only platonic…it hurt. But instead of telling you that, and having a normal conversation about it, I just…” He sighed as he squeezed her hands, his gaze averting to the floor. “I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” She whispered, letting go of one of his hands to tilt his head back up to look her in the eyes. “You mean everything to me, professor, and I don’t want one stupid fight to end us. Especially when we can both make sure that it doesn’t get to this point. I need to be more considerate about your feelings, and not just act on my own volition, and you need to remember to trust me. I understand where you’re coming from, but I mean it when I say I never want to be the source of your pain. You’re the center of my solar system, and the last thing I want is to lose the sun that all my planets revolve around.”

Donnie gave her a weak smile as he grabbed the hand resting under his chin, then pulled her in to rest their foreheads together. “I love you. More than anything.” He whispered, making her tearfully smile back. 

“I love you too.”

He leaned in to kiss her, the now sticky lip gloss being as apparent as ever. But in the moment, he didn’t mind it. Normally, he wouldn’t love the feeling lingering on his lips after he pulled away from her - but after what they had gone through in the past few days, he welcomed it with open arms.

Anything that told him that Andi forgave him and that they were going to be okay.

After what felt like forever, he finally pulled away and gave her another little smile. “Do you want me to stay over? You can change into some pajamas and we’ll just hang out for the night.” 

For the first time that night, she smiled back. “I’d like that.” She replied, then gasped to herself when he helped her off the couch. “I’ll be in my room in a little bit.” She said, then took a breath as she went to grab some pajamas, and then went to the bathroom.

----------

And after an exceedingly long amount of time (the makeup had taken much longer to remove than she intended - and she wanted to take a shower to ensure that any residue was washed away,) Andi was finally finished. 

Wearing a white lace cami and pink shorts, and with her hair in a bun, she walked out of the bathroom and hung the dress up, looking at it pensively. “Shame I never got to wear it out, it’s a pretty one.” She commented, then walked over to Donnie, who was now sitting on the side of her bed. Giving him a little smile, she got under the covers and gestured for him to follow - and the pink tint on his cheeks made her giggle under her breath. “I’m not gonna bite, Don.”

“I-I know, it’s just…I’m never gonna get used to doing stuff like this.” He only replied, making her roll her eyes fondly. 

“Just come here and cuddle me, dummy.”

That finally made Donnie crack a smile and cave, getting under her bubblegum covers and pulling her into his arms. 

As if by magic, Andi let out a yawn as she snuggled closer. “I’m glad you came over…” She mumbled under her breath, closing her eyes. She hadn’t realized how tired she had become until now - and Donnie’s warmth and overall presence was absolutely not helping.

She subconsciously smiled when he kissed her on the forehead. “Go to sleep, hon, we’ll talk in the morning.” He softly told her, then bit back a laugh as she lightly nodded - falling asleep almost immediately. 

When he heard her softly snoring, he glanced over at the dress and smiled the same way she had before. If what had happened tonight…well, hadn’t happened, she would’ve looked beautiful in it. 

While he could breathe at the idea that they were able to talk about what happened, that didn’t mean that he was happy that such a nice outfit was basically wasted on a night like this - and he was doubly bothered that they couldn’t go to that dance together.

So that got him thinking.

She deserved to have a great night, wearing a beautiful outfit, and having her boyfriend right by her side. She especially deserved it after he was such a jerk to her the entire week…seriously, getting that jealous over some kid that would never have a chance with her in a million years - especially after that same kid turned out to be a dirtbag too?

Yeah, she definitely deserved him making it up to her. 

And that’s when ideas started to form…maybe a nice dinner in the lab? Or on her rooftop? And he could give her that dance that she likely wanted if they went tonight.

And it’d be even better because it would be just them. No brothers, no stupid kid to stand her up…just the two of them. 

He glanced at her sleeping face and managed a little smile, kissing her on the forehead again. 

That was definitely something to talk about in the morning.

----------

STS Takeover: September Edition! Hope y'all enjoy 🩷🩷

@thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @tinkabelle19 @eveandtheturtles @happymoonangel @kikithedreamerwriter @android-cap-007 @raphsmuneca

[randomshyperson]

Wanda X Reader - 10 Things I hate about you - Part One

Summary:  Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can't date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words:  6.553K  /// Read on AO3 too || Part Two

Warnings: PG, fluff, language; goth wanda is back thank god.

Notes: If English is your native language and I used slang that doesn't make sense at all, forgive me. It is really hard to translate many dialects from Portuguese to English. Anyways enjoy your reading!

You rode your skateboard to school today. Your mother was angry with you and took the keys to your motorcycle while yelling that you were difficult to raise, so you grabbed your backpack and skateboard while slamming the door on your way out.

It didn't take long to get to school, though. 

You absolutely hate this place. Sometimes you get the impression that you are surrounded by completely mental people.

You walked across the parking lot and got off your skateboard, quickly waving to your friend Carol Danvers, who was smoking leaning against the wall of the school building. You would have to talk to them later, as you had a meeting scheduled with the school principal.

Shrugging off the students as you entered the building, you ignored the stares you received and headed toward Ms. Harkness' office.

You entered without knocking because the door was already open, since she was talking to another student, and when the stranger got up she almost tripped over you on her way out. The principal raised her eyes from her notebook to you, and smiled wryly.

- Well, well, Miss Y/L/N. - she said. - I see these encounters of ours are becoming recurrent.

- I like to be around beautiful women, Miss Harkness. - You stated with a charming smile and crossed arms. The woman laughed lightly as she returned her gaze to her notebook.

- Let me see what happened here. - She mumbled to herself, probably trying to find the notes. - Wow, top nudity exhibit in the cafeteria.

You scratched your head impatiently. 

- They were melons, Miss Harkness. - You clarified. - I was making a little joke.

Harkness let out a wry chuckle as she stood up.

- How about you keep them under your blouse, huh? - She scoffed, pointing slightly at the height of your breasts and giving you a wink. You frowned. - Out!

You startled slightly, and Mrs. Harkness giggled, returning to her seat.

You blinked in confusion and turned away, mumbling wryly that she was an excellent professional before you left.

//-//

Carol was waiting for you outside the room, a few feet ahead in the hallway against her own lockers, and you greet her with a kiss on the cheek quickly.

- How did it go today? Did she say anything interesting? - Carol asked with humor in her voice. You leaned your back against the closet, letting out a chuckle.

- No way. - You replied. - She just told me to keep my breasts under my blouse.

Carol laughs lightly, while you check your cell phone. And then she touches your arm lightly. When you raise your eyes to her, she signals the corridor.

- New faces. - She nods, and you notice that it's the same girl who bumped into you in the Harkness room. Now she is accompanied by Bruce Banner, who was clearly showing her around.

- Wow, people keep choosing to come to this place. - You mock, making your friend laugh a little.Carol then checks the clock on her wrist and signals that she needs to get to her history class.  You say goodbye to her, but get distracted by your cell phone again, and then the bell rings, and you have to run to get to the literature room on the other side of the building.

//-//

You stumble into the room, and all the students turn to look at you.

- What have I missed? - you ask, trying to normalize your breathing after running through the halls.

- The oppressive patriarchal values that determine our education. - replied a girl you didn't know.

- Nice. - You grumble with a slight laugh, as you hurry to sit in the back of the room.

- You must love detention, don't you, Miss Y/L/N? This is your third delay this week. - commented the teacher as soon as you sat down. Several giggles were heard, but you didn't pay much attention. You threw your bag on the chair and tried to pretend that you were interested in whatever Professor Fury was teaching.

- Professor Fury, any chance you could ask Wanda to take her Midol before coming to class? - scoffed Pepper Potts, one of the most popular and insufferable girls at this school. You rolled your eyes at the teasing, and leaned back as the rest of the class giggled.

- One of these days Mrs. Maximoff is going to punch you in the nose, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her. - Fury replied seriously, wiping the ironic smile off Potts' face. - And Wanda, I want to thank you for your point of view. I know how hard it must have been to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be hard. - He sneered and then started walking toward the girl who was probably Wanda. - But the next time you protest about demanding better food, or whatever it is that white kids protest about, ask them why they don't buy books written by black people!

You let out a little laugh, and Professor Fury looked at you seriously.

- Do you find something funny, Miss? 

You shrugged, straightening your posture.

- Sorry to interrupt your speech, Mr. Fury. - You say. - But you're blaming Wanda for something she has no control over. Wouldn't it be better to suggest books written by black women, instead of separating the fights?

Professor Fury blinks in irritation at you, while Wanda looks in your direction, looking surprised.

- Out. Principal office. - says the professor, and you blink in surprise. - Both of you, by the way! You pissed me off!

You grumble, and grab your backpack and leave the room, with Wanda following behind. But you don't speak to her, and when you leave the room, you go to opposite sides of the hallway, since you had no intention of seeing the principal at all.

//-//

You ended up skipping the last two classes of the day while sneaking a smoke with Carol behind the bleachers of the soccer field. 

And then you accepted the ride home that she offered you.

- See you tomorrow, troublemaker. - She said good-bye, and you just nodded as you walked toward the front door.

Your mother was at home, sitting at her computer in the living room, and you thought maybe you could sneak past her, but as soon as you closed the door she turned around with her arms crossed.

- The school called. - She said as she stood up, and you let out an impatient sigh as you threw your backpack on the floor by the door. - Are you trying to get suspended?

- Oh yeah, that's my dream. - You scoff, walking toward the kitchen.

- You're going to be grounded.

- I'm already grounded. - You retort softly, and your mother walks over to the counter. 

- You think I'm kidding? - She exclaims angrily, and then she's heading down the hall, and you're curious what she's going to do, so you follow her through the house to the garage. You look impassive as she glances around, but then she grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the cabinet and heads for her motorcycle. Your whole body tenses up, but before you can do anything, your mother is breaking your bike.

- You've gone crazy! - You shout as you run toward her, but she turns threateningly toward you with the objects pointed in your direction

- No more fighting! - she shouts. - You're not going anywhere on this damn motorcycle, do you hear me? You are grounded until college.

And then she throws the tools on the floor, and leaves the garage. You take a deep breath, trying not to break everything in front of you, and turn to your motorcycle. Some parts were broken, but you could fix them. The problem would be having the money to do it.

//-//

Tuesday started with biology. And you were really pissed off about the whole thing with your mom and your motorcycle. The professor asked the groups to dissect frogs, and the damn scalpel he handed out wasn't cutting anything. So you grabbed your knife hidden in your boot, and angrily pierced the animal. 

- You've lost your mind, put that away! - ordered Carol sitting next to you as she looked around to see if the teacher had seen. You let out an angry sigh and put the item away.

You were bored, and you smoked when you were bored. So you turned the valve on the experimental flame on the bench while putting a cigarette in your mouth, and walked over to light it.

- Girl, what's the matter with you today? - Carol asked impatiently, closing the valve and taking the cigarette out of your mouth.

You mumbled without answering, and she let out a dry laugh before going back to writing. Your gaze wandered around the room and you thought that the new girl and Bruce Banner were looking at you from the table in front of you, but they looked away quickly, so you got distracted again.

//-//

The next class was better because it kept your hands busy. Mechanics with Professor Howard Stark was interesting as he allowed the students to experiment as much as they wanted. 

At this moment you were welding a car part while trying not to burn your fingers when you heard a female voice next to you.

- Hi, how are you? - the girl said, and as you turned you realized that it was the new student. You frowned confused, you don't talk to anyone. You thought you should have an aggressive posture, because the girl's voice trembled a little, and then she quickly said good-bye and left the room. You shook your head and went back to concentrating on the lesson.

- What the hell was that all about? - Carol asked from beside you, and you shrugged.

- I told you there are only crazy people in this school. - You remarked with amusement.

- But we go here. - She retorted with a smile.

- Exactly.

Carol laughed and turned her attention back to her own activity.

//-//

In Gym class, the teacher took all the students to the outdoor field, where the rugby team was practicing. He was more concerned about the girls' performance, so he let the rest of the class do as they pleased. Then you and Carol sat down on one of the benches, while you shared a cigarette.

And you had about ten minutes of peace before Pepper Potts and one of her friends came to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up? - asked the blonde, and you looked at her with irony.

- Are you lost? - You replied aggressively, but she didn't seem intimidated.

- See that girl over there? - She said, pointing quickly toward the field. You followed her direction, and it was the same girl from literature class. - That's Wanda Maximoff. I want you to go out with her.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then took a drag on your cigarette.

- As if, preppy. - You denied it as you exchanged a look with Carol, who was grinning in disbelief.

But Pepper was not joking.

- Look, I can't go out with her hot brother until she dates. - She clarifies. - Their father is kind of crazy, he made a rule...

- Touching. Really. I'm moved. - You mock without patience. - But that's not my problem.

- Would it be your problem if you were paid a nice fee?

You let out a dry laugh, looking at her in surprise.

- Are you going to pay me to go out with someone? - you ask, and Potts has a smile on her face as she nods in agreement. You laugh again. - How much?

- Twenty dollars.

You raise your eyebrows, really considering this for a second. And then you look toward the field, and watch as Wanda fouls a girl to the ground, and you swallow dryly. This girl was going to eat you alive.

- Okay, how about 30 bucks? - Potts next suggests when she sees the foul. 

You thought about the parts of your motorcycle that you would have to buy. And you licked your lips before you spoke.

- Let's take a good look at this. - You start. - If I take her to the movies, it will be fifteen dollars. And if we buy popcorn, it's fifty dollars. I like to buy candy for the girls, so it would be about seventy-five.

- This is not a negotiation. - Potts retorts angrily. - Take it or leave it, mutt.

You let out a humorless laugh. 

- But I think it is, Potts. - You retort, smoking your cigarette again. - Or I'll go over there now and tell Wanda your whole touching little tale.

Potts blinks in irritation, and lets out a wry laugh. But then she relaxes her posture.

- Eighty dollars. - she says. You smile, throwing the cigarette on the floor and putting it out with your foot. 

- Deal, Hollywood. - You tell her, and raise your hand in her direction. Potts rolls her eyes, but takes the money from her pocket and hands it to you.

She and her friend then leave, and you settle into your seat.

- You're crazy. - Carol declares afterwards.

- Yes, I know. - You say, brushing your hair out of your eyes with your hands. - But I need new parts. It'll be harmless, it's just a date.

- I hope you're right. - She comments with a laugh, turning her attention back to the field. And then practice ends, and you exchange a look with Carol before getting up and walking toward the players' benches.

You assume your most charming pose as you approach Wanda.

- Hey, pretty girl. - You greet her with a smile as she drinks water from a bottle. She frowns in surprise, and has a wry smile on her face. - What's up?

- I'm sweating like a pig, how are you? - She answers wryly, and you smile awkwardly.

- Wow, that sounds attractive. - You reply in the same tone, watching her put the bottle of water in her backpack on the bench.

- Oh, yes. My goal in life is to look attractive all the time. - She scoffs, frowning. - But I guess it works, since I got your attention. The world makes sense again.

She starts walking toward the exit of the camp, and you are a bit taken aback by the irony, but hurry to keep up with her.

- I'll pick you up on Friday, then. - You tell her, and Wanda lets out a laugh.

- Sure, Friday. - She wryly continues walking.

- Hey, it's the night I take you to places you've never seen.

- To a convenience store on Broadway? - She replies with irony. - Girl, do you even know my name?

You laugh.

- Wanda. - You answer, but she doesn't seem impressed. - And I know more than you know.

- I doubt it. I doubt it very much. - She said ironically and you stopped following her, biting your lip as you watched her walk off the field.

//-//

Your first attempt to get a date with Wanda had not gone well at all, but you are optimistic. And then, on Saturday of that same week, while you and Carol were at the laundromat on the corner of your houses, she nodded slightly outside through the window.

- Isn't that the car of the girl you're being paid to date? - She mocked, and you sighed.

- Don't talk like that. - you said as you put the coins in the washing machine. - It makes me sound like a psychopath.

She laughed without looking at you, kneeling on the waiting couch as she looked out the window.

- I think I should look for a new rejection. - You grumble, handing Carol some coins. - Take care of my clothes while I go talk to her, please.

Carol nods in agreement as you leave the establishment. Crossing the street, you look in the direction of Wanda's car. It is nice, and you are watching the tires as she arrives.

- Are you following me? - She asks with a mixture of aggressiveness and surprise. 

- What? Of course not! - You deny it, but with the suspicious look on her face, you try to add. - I was in the laundry room, smarty-pants. I saw your car, and wanted to say hello.

She lets out a sigh, and shrugs her shoulders, heading for the door. You hurry to stand in front of her, a charming smile on your lips.

- I notice that you don't talk much. - You remark, and Wanda frowns, crossing her arms.

- It depends on the subject. - She says. - Talking about the tires on my car doesn't cause me a verbal frenzy.

- You're not afraid of me, are you? - you ask, and she looks at you incredulously.

- Why would I be afraid of you?

- Most people are. - You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes with irony.

- Well, I don't.

You smile and move a little closer.

- Not afraid, but I bet you've imagined me naked, haven't you? - You tease and give a little wink. Wanda keeps her face almost angry.

- Wow, is it that obvious? - She retorts. - I want you so bad, baby.

She mocks last before bending down slightly and opening the car door, pushing you with the metal.

You let out an impatient sigh as you step back, and she gets into the car and prepares to leave. You stand with your arms folded trying to think how exactly you are going to make this work.

And then Pepper Potts parks her car right behind Wanda's, preventing her from leaving, while the blonde steps out of the vehicle with a smiling, arrogant posture.

- My God, is it idiots' day today? - Wanda complains from inside the car. When Pepper passes by her window, she shouts: - Do you mind girl?

- Not even a little, bitch. - Potts retorts without looking at her as she walks away. 

But then Wanda is backing the car up, and the next moment Pepper's red Cadillac has a big bump mark on the side. You laugh in surprise, not believing that she had actually hit the car.

- My God, you are completely crazy! - Potts shouts as she observes the impact. 

- Oops. - You hear Wanda scoff.

You laughed again, before going back to the laundry room. 

//-//

It was Monday again, and you were trying to have a quiet day. But while you were putting your books away in your locker, Potts approached you.

- When I pay for something, I expect results. - She says, and you close the closet to brace yourself against it.

- I'm trying.

- Watching that lunatic destroy my car doesn't count as a date. - She retorts with mild irritation. - If you don't go out with her, I won't get Pietro. Then get something soon, okay?

That girl's audacity pissed you off. 

- I just raised the price. - You tell her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

- Excuse me?

- One hundred and fifty dollars a date. - You say. - In advance.

- Forget it. - She said angrily, turning away.

- Then forget about her brother.

Potts lets out a grumble and then turns to you again, hurrying to get the money.

- Does this kid have a gold dick by any chance? - You scoff, and Potts gives you the middle finger, making you laugh.

- You better get the date, sister. - She says, and you just smile before heading off in the direction of the mechanics' classroom.

//-//

You were trying to find the correct melting point for one of the tools when you were approached by the same girl as the last time you had mechanics. 

- I know what you are trying to do with Wanda Maximoff. - She announces, and you let out a wry chuckle as you continue your attention to the tools in front of you.

- Really? And what are you going to do about it?

- Help you.

You blink in surprise as you raise a large metal bar at your eye level to identify its features.

- Why? - you ask, and it is not the girl who speaks next.

- The situation is that my friend Monica, is in love with Pietro Maximoff. - A male voice speaks, and then you look quickly to identify Bruce Banner.

- God, this kid must really have a gold cock. - You mumble with irony as you place the iron bar on the table, and take off your protective gloves.

- Believe me when I tell you that Monica's love is pure, she wants to date him. - Banner explains as you walk to another table in the room, looking for your notes. - Unlike Pepper Potts, who only wants to use him as a trophy.

- Look, I'm only in this for the money. I don't give a shit who Potts is fucking. - You respond without patience, and Monica seems to get irritated with you, but Banner calms her down.

You make some notes regarding the lesson and walk over to the table to analyze the pictures of the tools as you organize them. Monica and Banner follow you.

- Listen, Y/N, we are the ones who planned this story so that Monica and Pietro could date. - Banner says. - Potts is just the go-between.

You laugh with surprise.

- And you are going to help me win Wanda over?

- That's right. - They both say in unison. You turn your attention back to the materials in front of you.

- We will investigate what she likes. - Banner says. - You need our help.

Bruce smiled amiably, and you laughed at the posture he assumed.

- Look, we'll start here. - He began by pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. - On Friday, Stephen Strange is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity.

- Perfect for what? - you ask, looking at him.

- For you to invite Wanda. - He clarifies, and you sigh impatiently, already tired of this conversation.

- I'll think about it. - You say finally and walk to the other side of the room, and this time, they don't follow you.

//-//

It was Wednesday, and you and your friends went to a bar to play a bit of pool shortly after school. Your mother had no idea you were here, but she was working, so she wouldn't know.

You got a text message from Bruce, wanting to meet you along with Monica, and you laughed when you sent the location. They really weren't the kind of people who hang around this place.

You were upstairs, drinking some beer when you saw them come in, and nodding slightly to Carol, you went downstairs and walked over to them.

- So, what do you have for me? - you asked, leaning against a wall.

- Before we get started, I have a question. - says Bruce. - Is it true that you are on probation?

You laugh in surprise.

- What?

- Bruce, shut up. - said Monica, tapping her colleague on the shoulder. And then she turned to you. - First thing, Wanda hates smokers.

- Okay, I hate them too.

You mock, but Monica and Bruce look serious, so you sigh, and take out of your pocket your cigarette case, handing it to the girl.

- There is another problem, Pietro told me that Wanda likes pretty girls. 

They look at you for a moment and you frown.

- Are you saying that I'm not pretty? - you ask, straightening your posture.

- You are beautiful! Monica, she's so beautiful, what are you saying? - hurried Bruce almost in terror. You wanted to laugh.

Monica nods quickly in agreement, and you lean back against the wall.

- Look, I made a list. - She hastens to say, pulling a piece of paper from her shirt pocket. - Wanda's tastes are: Sokovian food, feminist poetry, punk and alternative music. And there is a list of the CDs she had in her room.

She says, handing the paper to you. You let out a sigh.

- So should I buy some soup, a book, and ear plugs for some really noisy concert?

They both shrug, smiling slightly.

- Have you ever been to the Skrull Club, west side of town? - Banner asks.

You chuckle.

- It's a nice place, but not really my style.

- Well, it will have to be. - says Monica. - Her favorite group is playing there tomorrow night.

You run your fingers through your hair, sighing.

- Come on, Y/N, it's only for one night. - says Banner. - We're sure she'll be there, Mon found the tickets.

- She also has a black lingerie set. - Added Monica and you frown with confusion.

- Why is this relevant? - You asked, and Monica looked away, looking embarrassed. You laughed lightly, but didn't push it. Then you looked at both of them. - Okay, I'll drop by.

Bruce and Monica both let out excited exclamations and then waved goodbye. You laughed and shook your head, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

//-//

The Skrull Club was generally frequented by the punk crowd in town, many women from extremist feminist movements hung out here. But in general it was a pretty diverse crowd of rockers, punks, goths and allies. And the drink was cheap.

You received a few curious glances as you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the nightclub, but it was more because these clubs were generally frequented by the same people, and you’re a familiar face.

The place was very crowded, and you had to dodge a lot of people until you reached the main dance floor, trying to find Wanda.

You smiled when you finally saw her, in the first row, dancing with a girl who was also from your school. You thought she looked pretty, in her black dress and red jacket, plus a knee-length black stocking and dark boots on her feet. She might have looked intimidating, but she was still very pretty.

You don't quite understand why your heart races at the image of her dancing and smiling, so you think it best to get a drink, and turn toward the bar.

You sit there, trying to decide how you are going to approach her, but then Wanda is coming toward the bar, and you disguise yourself by looking the other way.

- You don't give up, do you? - She says as soon as she sees you. And walks over to where you are sitting. - If you're planning on asking me out, you can just give up!

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hear the music. - You hit back without looking at her.

-You're not surrounded by your typical cloud of smoke. -She comments after a moment, and you take a sip of the drink you ordered before answering.

- Yes, I quit. They say it's bad for your health. - You say it with a slight irony.

- Do you think so? - Wanda looks slightly surprised, and you give her a short smile before standing up.

- These guys aren't the Kree's, but they play well. - You comment on her favorite band before heading off toward the dance floor. Wanda hurries to follow you.

- Do you know who the Kree's are? - she asks in surprise.

- Why, you don't know? - You reply with irony.

She doesn't answer, looking mildly impressed. You smile briefly.

- I was watching you dance. - You comment as the band is finishing the song. - I don't think I've ever seen you so sexy.

And then the song ends exactly with your line, and the whole club hears you. Several people giggle, and you feel your cheeks heat up, but Wanda laughs too, and that relaxes you.

- Come to Stephen Strange's party with me. - You ask her. And she tilts her head slightly to the side, still smiling.

- You never give up, do you?

And then another song starts, and Wanda is coming back to the front of the stage.

- Is that a yes? - you shout at her.

- No!

- Was that a no?

It takes a second, but she shouts back.

- No!

You grin.

- See you at 9:30! - You shout to her before she disappears into the crowd. 

You're smiling all the way home.

//-//

You were early. But you were so anxious about it that you left the house as quickly as possible. 

And then you arrived at Wanda's door, but as soon as you went to knock, she opened it.

- What are you doing here? - she asked in surprise.

- 9:30. - You answer. - Yeah, well, I'm early.

- Whatever, I'm driving. - She says and then you look into the house and see Pietro Maximoff with a kangaroo baby carrier outfit occupied with a doll and frown.

- May I ask what that is? - You remark, and Wanda just rolls her eyes at the scene, then turns to you.

- My father is a little neurotic about this whole pregnancy thing. - She answers and walks outside. You both wait for Pietro.

- At least he doesn't use a real baby. - You joke and Wanda smiles. But then Pietro leaves the house, looking slightly annoyed, and you hurry to Wanda's car.

It doesn't take long to get to the party.

The place was packed. Probably the whole school was here. And as soon as Wanda found a parking place, Pietro got out and disappeared into the crowd.

You decided to accompany Wanda as she entered the house. You went toward the second floor, and you lost sight of Wanda when a girl jumped on you, completely drunk and trying to kiss you.

- Wow, slow down there. - You said, helping her sit up. You found several empty and sealed bottles of water in one of the liquor containers around the house and handed one to her. - I want you to drink it all, okay?

The girl whimpered in confusion, but you waited. She seemed better, but you handed her another bottle just to be sure.

- Hey Peggy, I found you! - said a skinny boy you didn't know, walking up to you. He frowned, slightly startled, when he noticed you.

- Are you a friend of hers? - You asked him with distrust, and he nodded, looking mildly frightened.

- Yes, he is. This is Steve. - mumbled the girl sitting up, looking like she had a headache. - Thanks for the water, by the way.

- No problem. - You say. - Are you feeling well enough to be alone?

She nods slightly as she speaks:

- Yes, yes. Steve will take care of me now. Thanks again.

And then you patted Steve on the arm, and left the two of them, walking back through the crowd.

It took you many minutes to find Wanda again, because the party is so crowded. And when you reached her, she was pouring a glass of drink into her mouth.

- Hey, I've been looking all over for you. - You announce mildly annoyed. - What the hell are you doing?

- Getting drunk! - she answers ironically. - Isn't that what people are supposed to do at a party?

- I don't know, you do whatever you want to do. - You retort, and Wanda raises her eyebrows.

- Very funny. You're the only one who says that. - She says as she turns away. - See you later.

Wanda leaves walking through the party, and you see her grab another drink glass on the way.

You think you heard someone yell fight while you were walking through the party, and then the crowd moved, but you didn't go toward the people. 

You are very angry, and impatient, wanting to be spending this evening with Wanda, but she doesn't seem interested. 

And then you were walking back the way you came, and you ran into the same couple as before, only now they were kissing. You laughed lightly, the boy looked shy. You decided to stay out of their way, and went downstairs, only to run into Wanda again.

- Hey, why don't you let me have this one. - You spoke up as you noticed what must have been one of the many glasses of booze she had taken, and you raised your arm to pick it up, but Wanda was quicker, moving the glass away.

- No! This one is mine! - she grumbled, clearly drunk, trying to push you away. But you managed to take her glass, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

As you put the glass on a small table, she walked away again, and before you could follow, Pepper was at your side.

- Girl, how did you manage to do that? - she asked, looking excited. You frowned.

- What are you talking about?

- You made a freak act like a human being. - She commented with irony, but you weren't even paying attention anymore. Your gaze raced across the room after Wanda, and then someone turned on the radio in the next room and the crowd screamed attracting your attention.

You exclaimed in surprise when you noticed Wanda dancing on a table, without the jacket she was wearing earlier. Pepper ran in the same direction, joining in the shouts of celebration from the crowd around the table. 

Walking towards the table you were a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment. Wanda was completely drunk, dancing sensually to the music, while people whistled and watched intently. She had her eyes closed, not even seeming to notice her surroundings.

And then she made a badly calculated move, and hit her head on the chandelier on the table. You were quick enough to catch her when she fell.

- Okay, that was enough. - You grumbled, helping her to her feet. - Are you okay?

- I'm fine! - she replied, but she could barely walk. You kept her from falling while grabbing the jacket she had thrown to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not fine. - You said. - Let's get out of here.

- I just need to lie down. - She mumbled, letting you hold her around the waist as you led her through the crowd.

- If you lie down, you'll sleep. - You say. - You can't sleep after hitting your head.

Wanda giggled.

- So many words. - She complained, and you thought it best to sit her down somewhere.

You reached the outside, as crowded as the house, but you managed to find a space in the garden for her to sit, and helped her to the bench. Wanda put her hand on her head where she had hit it.

- Hey, I need to talk to you. - Called Monica, walking up to you suddenly.

- I'm kinda busy. - You retorted, looking at Wanda.

- Five minutes, it's important.

You sighed, and took one last look at Wanda before walking away with Monica.

- Look, the deal is off, okay? - she said, and you blinked in confusion. - Pietro never wanted to be with me. He just wanted to have sex with Pepper.

You really didn't have the energy for that right now.

- Monica, where did all this come from now, huh? Weren't you two sneaking around together?

- I thought I was having a good time, but I saw them both at the party. - She explained, and you sighed impatiently.

- Hey, you like this boy don't you? - you asked, and she looked away, nodding. - And he's worth all this stuff you're doing?

- I thought so but...

- Yes or no?  - She swallowed hard, and you assumed a serious posture. - Listen, Pepper Potts is not half as good as you, and you never let anyone make you think that you don't deserve something. Okay? 

Monica nodded, looking surprised. You turned your face toward Wanda quickly.

- Look, I have to go. - You said as you turned and helped Wanda to her feet.

On the way out you made sure to grab one of the bottles of water you found in the barrels.

You let her rest her arm on your shoulder to keep from falling, while your arm went around her waist. You dragged her across the street, and you ended up climbing a small hill in the mansion area that ended at a playground.

- Why are you doing this? - she grumbled.

- I said, you might have a concussion. - You retorted. Wanda broke free of you and started trying to walk ahead. You kept your attention to catch her in case she fell.

- You don't even care if I don't wake up.

You let out a chuckle, stopping her from falling next.

- That's not true.

- Why not?

- Because then I'd have to date girls who like me. - You respond with humor.

- If you could find one. - She retorts, and you have a smile on your lips when you answer.

- Oh, see. Who needs affection when I get hate?

- I just need to sit for a while. - She says, closing her eyes for a moment, and you help her sit down on one of the swings behind you. She falls off balance a second after you put her there, but you are quick to help her stay seated.

- Jesus. - You sigh as you stop her from falling, and then sit down on the swing beside her while Wanda laughs lightly. - So, why do you let yourself be affected?

- By whom? - she asks.

- Potts.

Wanda looks away, shaking her head.

- I hate her.

You let out a tired sigh.

- Well, you have chosen the perfect revenge. Intravenous tequila. - You joke, making her laugh.

- It's what they say.... - She begins to speak while you are looking away, and with the momentary silence you stare back, startled to find her asleep. You get up hastily, touching her face.

- Hey, Wanda! Wake up! Come on, open your eyes! - You called out, patting her face lightly. 

Wanda blinked, opening her eyes, and you let out a sigh of relief. And then you took your hands away from her face and stood up, while she continued to look at you.

- I like your eyes. - She says with a shy smile. And you smile too, but then she throws up on your shoes the next second and the moment is broken. You laugh incredulously, but pat her on the back.

- Time to go home, punk. - You comment softly.

It takes a moment for Wanda to calm down, and you hand her the bottle of water you got. Then you walk to her car, and she hands you the keys.

Just as you are about to arrive at her house many minutes after, she speaks again:

- I should do that. - She comments still sounding drunk. 

- Do what?

- That. - She says, pointing to the radio. A rock song was playing.

- Start a band?

- No, install radios in cars. - She retorted with irony, and you laughed lightly. - Starting a band of course. My dad would love it.

You then stop the car in front of her house. 

- You don't seem to be the type to ask your father's permission to do things. - You comment as you take out the keys.

Wanda blinks in surprise.

- So now you know me?

- I'm trying. 

- People only know that I scare them.

- Yeah, I know the feeling. - You comment with a wry smile. Wanda looks at you with an intensity that makes your stomach turn. - So, your father looks tough.

- No, he just wants me to be someone I'm not. - She says, shaking her head slightly.

- Who?

- Pietro. - She answers with a frown. You let out an understanding sigh.

- No offense, I know everyone likes your brother and all, but he's a pretty shallow guy. - You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, but then she has a little smile on her face.

- You know... you're not as obnoxious as I thought. - She says, making you laugh slightly. And then she looks at you like that again, and brings your faces together, closing her eyes. You swallow dryly, ignoring your nervousness, and look at the steering wheel.

- I think we should do this another time. - You say, and Wanda looks at you in disbelief, as you twiddle your fingers nervously. She frowns and looks ahead, then opens the car door and gets out.

You sit there for several minutes, hoping that Wanda won't be even more irritated with you than she usually is.

[doorsclosingslowly]

There’s someone waiting out there with a mouthful of surprises

The Jedi recovered the bisected Sith apprentice from Naboo and imprisoned him underneath the Jedi Temple. A young Anakin finds the way down to his cell.

Anakin is twelve when he declines one of Chancellor Palpatine’s invitations for the first time. The resulting devastation looks wrong on his kindly old face, and Anakin wants to take it back—besides, it’s just an opera and a glass of bubbly, where could be the harm?—but he remembers golden eyes pleading up at him and then a skull-patterned face scrunched up into a splotch with how hard it’s trying to hide utter desperation, and he repeats his invented excuse.

It doesn’t matter that this one-sided rivalry for Anakin’s attention that has developed between the mutilated imprisoned murderer Sith (slave) he has befriended and the Chancellor of the Republic is honestly deeply stupid, from Anakin’s point of view. It’s not like he couldn’t spent time with them both: his missions with Master Obi-Wan have increased in number recently, but still, he’s been talking to Palpatine once a month and he’s also managed to fit in the regular trips down below to the high security carcer. It’s ridiculous.

But Anakin understands loneliness—and fear and attachment and jealousy and all the other disturbances of the peace he shouldn’t feel—he didn’t have friends for years in the Temple, after all, and it makes sense, at least a little, that Maul is scared he’ll be forgotten down there when Anakin has any other option. Not a lot of sense, because really what he’s saying is that he thinks Anakin so disloyal he’ll just ditch the only real friend he made on Coruscant, and Anakin would get back at him for the insult if it wasn’t for an energy gate perpetually between them and the fact that it’s a just a little bit unfair to tussle with a guy crawling on the floor because he doesn’t have legs… The jealousy is still kriffing stupid, but if anyone knows stupid fears it’s Anakin.

So he declines, and he keeps declining, and two years later the invitations stop.

.

Anakin is eleven when he starts smuggling droid parts down into the top security oubliette underneath the oldest parts of the Jedi Temple. The first time is, in retrospect, a terrifying accident. He’s built a tiny moving starfighter that Master Obi-Wan just glanced at and said, “Well done,” nothing more, like Anakin didn’t need to use pincers to weld the tiniest engine parts together, like he didn’t cast the alloy all by himself. He sulks in his room, the ship buzzing at his head, and then remembers that there’s at least two more people who might like to see. Palpatine is probably busy, and that leaves…

The Sith prisoner is a far more appreciative audience than Anakin’s Master. His eyes glint and widen when he sees the presence next to Anakin’s head, and he even pulls himself off his berth: pulls himself off the edge and tumbles down head-first, and then panting and with his nails dug into the duracrete he drags his torso over to the energy trellis that separates him from Anakin.

He looks up at the droid in childlike wonder.

There’s a tenderness to his questions that he hasn’t shown Anakin up until now, and it’s not just the hoarse panting of exertion that takes away the last dregs of his usual intimidating mien. He wants to know everything, from the full-size model of the ship it was based on to the assembly process to details of every single one of Anakin’s new projects.

“I can—I could feel the movement of the droids I built, in the force,” the prisoner whispers reverently. “They were a constant presence when I was young.”

“Right? Right?” Anakin is excited. The Jedi have been trying to tell him that droids don’t have force presences, and he’s almost believed them by now, but if he’s not alone in feeling it then he was right. Master Obi-Wan was wrong. He knew it.

He brings down the next droid he builds—yes, two days after the first trip he did realize he brought something easily used as a weapon to the dangerous Sith prisoner, but all he did was talk mechanics with Anakin so clearly it’s harmless—and the next and next. He watches the prisoner drag himself across the floor. He sees the abrasions covering the prisoner head to abdomen—covering him on every inch of the body he still possesses—the injuries that he must be sustaining from his only mode of movement. He feels the shame radiate out from the prisoner down on the floor, painful, cloying. He watches him try to play it all down.

One day, Anakin brings down a ship that he designed himself to meet the exact dimensions and functionality of a short humanoid’s prosthetic thigh. He pushes it against the barrier. It moves through.

.

Anakin is almost ten years old, and he knows that down in the bowels of the Jedi Temple there lives a monster. The Sith is caged so deep below that no-one can hear his growls and mutters, his whimpers, his pleas, or so Master Obi-Wan promised Anakin yesterday when he’d worked up the courage to ask about the sounds he keeps hearing whenever he closes his eyes. He’s locked down so deep that the shivering of his despair and the gall of his hatred must be a hallucination. He’s been caged for months, first interrogated daily, then found useless and forgotten. But not by Anakin.

(He saw the monstrous enemy of the Jedi for the first time when he’d just turned nine. It pulled its black hood off its bright head and panicked Master Qui-Gon and Master Obi-Wan, and Anakin was sent away for safety that quickly turned into cosmic warfare. Before that moment, he knows, on Tatooine it tried to run Anakin over with its bike. After that moment, he’d seen the monster—or what remained of it—being carried out of the Naboo palace on Master Obi-Wan’s back, moaning and delirious with pain, but dangerous nonetheless. It had bitten Obi-Wan so hard he’d flung it reflexively to the ground.

Down there, it had begged. “Honor,” it had rasped. “Give me honor. Give me death.”

Master Obi-Wan had picked it up by its arm, and it had whimpered in protest, “I fought with honor!”

Obi-Wan had ignored it. Anakin would have, too; this thing had killed Master Qui-Gon, and whether it had done so with honor or not didn’t matter when Master Qui-Gon was dead. It had killed the Jedi who’d won him, who chose to train Anakin, who was the only guarantor of his future safety, and he didn’t know what would happen now, and he hated it.

It had grown more frantic then, terrified. “Kill me, Jedi, please, when my Master—”

And Anakin had swallowed a cry of shocked recognition.)

Anakin will be ten in two months, and today he’s gonna see the monster again. It’s not the force that calls him down staircase after staircase to the oubliette below the oldest parts of the Jedi Temple. He’d be able to explain if it was the force, if he got caught, he thinks, but that’s not what’s going on. It’s just homesickness, and loneliness, and it is that word.

The way he said it.

Anakin has met more Masters in the last year of his life than ever before, has uttered the word more often than on Tatooine, and he’s doing pretty well, he thinks. He doesn’t flinch with his body when he says it and not with his face either, and even the highest Masters—there it is again—they can’t feel the acid in his force presence anymore.

He greets Master Obi-Wan in the morning and he bows to Grandmaster Yoda whenever they meet.

He doesn’t talk about his childhood. He doesn’t talk much, nowadays, to anyone but Master Obi-Wan or his teachers. He knows he’s weird. He wasn’t on Tatooine, but here… He doesn’t know the things the other padawans do, and his reflexive associations, his interests, his memories shock them. There’s no point, Anakin has learned, in expecting people who can say Master without galling—who don’t need to pretend enjoy it—to listen to him. They’ll never wake up in cold sweat and feel for the bomb that was cut out of their neck, that was injected into it while they were awake and their mother cried, that had so often almost gone off. They don’t cry for their Mom. They’ll only shush him when he talks of his past.

When he talks of his fears.

Of himself.

They’ll never understand him. No-one will. No-one will let him be the Anakin he really is, without fussing over him and muttering and looking like he should know better by now. No-one wants anything beyond the parts of himself he can salvage that are untainted by his past. The parts that don’t remember his mother.

The only person who listens to all of him is Palpatine, and even he often doesn’t know what to say.

No-one will understand, possibly, but…

The monster that lives down below the Jedi Temple had forced out Master like the word tastes of fire and dread.

Like it heralds pain.

The monster is a fellow slave, Anakin is sure. He’s the only being on Coruscant who might understand; the only person who will let him be whole. He’s killed Master Qui-Gon, yes, but he didn’t have a choice, just like Anakin wasn’t allowed to disobey his Master and neither was Mom or Kitster or Beru or anybody else back home.

It was so obvious, the moment he said it.

The monster’s a slave.

Point: Anakin is so tired of having to pretend he never was a slave.

Point also: He just found a map of all the layers of the temple in a garbage chute, wedged in a decommissioned droid’s dataslit. A map that shows the oubliette for ancient evils.

Point also also: Master Obi-Wan’s fast asleep, and Anakin can’t get his thoughts to stop racing.

The monster’s a fellow slave.

Ergo: it’s time to sneak down and make a friend.

What must be hundreds of meters below the current Jedi Temple, at the bottom of the bottom-most staircase, smells faintly of sweat and boredom and despair. The only illumination Anakin can make out is a set of force trellises, and if the schematics he found were right then that’s exactly the spot that he’s looking for.

Pulling his hood down deeper just because it’s chilly and definitely not because he’s nervous and needs something to fidget, he sneaks closer.

Victory!

The Sith’s inside the cell. He looks just like the attacker Anakin remembers, with a red-and-black face and some horns and a scowl. He looks completely different, too: he’s naked, or at least his torso is. The lower half of his body is just missing. Did the Jedi—but no, Anakin can dimly remember Master Obi-Wan mention the way he beat him. That he’s still without prosthetics, even though his scars are well-healed… Anakin knew a woman who’d survived a bomb blowing off her leg, on Tatooine. She lived off of fellow slaves’ charity, for a few months. Her head wasn’t all there anymore from the pain, Mom told Anakin, and her Master had just let her leave. Why invest in a prosthetic when you’re not getting any use from its recipient?

The Sith is doing better than her, at least, even if he’s missing way more flesh. He’s doing pull-ups off the head piece of his callow berth. His yellow eyes gleam in the soft light of the force trellis when he looks over. When he notices Anakin. For a long moment, he looks stunned, and only then he remembers to snarl.

“Hi,” Anakin says.

The prisoner puffs up his defined arm muscles, as well as he can when he’s still hanging off the frame of his bed. He must have decided that dropping down onto his torso—and probably his face—would be even less dignified, though, because he stays put, sweaty and glowering out at Anakin from under his armpit, like he’s desperately trying to look threatening and tough in an unfamiliar situation where the other person has all the power.

It’s a scene Anakin has known intimately for most of his life.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Anakin says.

A beat.

Right.

“The Jedi didn’t send me,” because in his situation that’s what Anakin would most like to know. The Jedi are not this guy’s slave masters, but they do have all the power over him right now.

“I was a slave too, before they took me here. You can trust me,” and at least that gets a reaction: the prisoner looks absolutely apoplectic and even opens his mouth. Finally! He’s angry, which isn’t ideal—Anakin should have remembered that some slaves don’t want to admit they are—but they’re talking!

But the Sith just closes his mouth again.

He keeps his sullen silence for what feels like hours while Anakin tries one conversational gambit after the other. He just can’t have blown his one chance at talking to someone whose mouth makes the right shape for Master. Anakin refuses to accept that.

But it grows later and later, and Master Obi-Wan will wake up at some point, and he doesn’t have to concede defeat for forever, after all, but maybe for today…

“Fine.” Anakin puffs out his chest. He should say something soothing that’ll buy him a foot in the door next time, but he’s been pleading and pleading, and it hurts. “I don’t even care if you don’t want to talk. I’ve got plenty of friends. Chancellor Palpatine asked me to come over for tea just yesterday!”

The voice is so threadbare that he almost misses it, but it’s there. The Sith clears his throat. He sounds more sure and velvety when he repeats his plea to Anakin. His golden eyes are so wide it looks painful.

“Wait! Repeat what you just said!”

.

Anakin is nineteen when he climbs down into the bowels of the Temple for the last time. He hasn’t slept for two days, barely even closed his eyes, because on the insides of his lids is his mother, writhing, pleading.

No-one up in the Temple can give him any help. All they have to offer is platitudes about Uncertain the future is and Let go of attachment you must, but it’s his Mom, and she’s being tortured! She’s dying! She can’t be dying! She’s Anakin’s Mom!

He’s pleaded to be sent to Tatooine on a mission, but Senator Amidala’s protection detail is more important Master Obi-Wan said, and he can’t just go against the will of his… He can’t go. His Mom’s dying every moment he closes his eyes and he can’t go.

Maul is his last hope.

No-one will even notice that Maul’s gone. He’s been locked up for a decade now, and only the meal droids and Anakin still climb down to his level. Anakin’s friends with the meal droids, too, and he can definitely talk them into keeping silent about the Sith prisoner’s disappearance.

Maul’s a fighter, and he was able to find them on Tatooine and follow them to Naboo so he must be able to find Anakin’s Mom, too, wherever she’s been dragged off to. He’ll be able to save her.

He’ll—

Anakin has already sliced the force trellis control panel and turned it off when the fear grabs him. He’s spilled all his nightmares of his mother’s death, has shared the only plan for her survival. He’s received the assent he was sure to get. Now, he’s helping Maul put on the smuggled prosthetics that have been hidden in the stuffing of Maul’s prison berth, kneeling down before him.

And suddenly, all he tastes in the air is raw hatred.

He flinches. The trellis must have functioned as a shield from Maul’s presence before, keeping Anakin from realizing the true depth of Maul’s anger, the extent of his strength.

He could kill Anakin right now. He could attack the temple, and it would all be Anakin’s fault.

The frailty and humiliations of the prisoner’s mutilated body have lulled Anakin into reacting with kindness. He’s seen a man who is weak, helpless, and of course he offered help.

The cadence of Maul’s voice has made him sound like a friend.

But he’s the Sith who slaughtered Master Qui-Gon.

He’s filled to the brim with hatred and jealousy and pain, the force around them screams, will never release them to meditation like Anakin has tried and tried to do; he’s everything the Jedi Council saw in Anakin that day a decade ago and that he’s tried so hard to bury. He’s a Sith.

He’s warm.

It’s not just the hand he rests on Anakin’s shoulder but the very air he expels. Anakin expected the dark side of the force to be frigid, the way his own loathing and terror have kept him shivering and cold, but this is a hearth: protection, purification, an almost magnetic pull. It wraps around them. He shudders again.

“Do not be afraid,” Maul says, and from the soft look in his eyes he has misunderstood completely. “I shall find your mother, apprentice. You will do admirably while I’m gone. Just remember everything I taught you.”

And then, the darkness curls around Anakin again, hot and possessive. “While I’m gone, don’t talk to Palpatine.”

.

Anakin is twenty-three when he decides to brutally murder the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. His wife is laying in the delivery room, holding the boy twin—holding their baby boy!—while he strokes her hair reverently, and there is his Mom beside him, holding the girl twin—holding their baby girl!—and next to the door, scowling, stands Maul.

“Do you want to hold her?” Mom asks Maul gently. She knows him best now, and if she decides Maul’s standoffishness towards the twins—his twins!—is shyness rather than dislike, then Anakin will forgive him for not cooing over the babies—his kids! His and Padmé’s kids!—like any rational person would.

“Even His patience runs out one day,” Maul whispers.

Anakin’s hairs curl in shocked recognition, and he doesn’t even need to hear the word, but—

“I told you, Shmi, he started talking to Anakin as soon as he arrived. Somehow I managed to keep them apart, to interfere with the attempts at molding him, but the very fact He showed interest must warn us… As soon as he learns of this birth, and His spies are everywhere…” Maul turns back towards the door, palms laid across it as if he could keep the gate shut. The force burns with shielding hatred. “My Master will come for your children. Soon. Palpatine likes them young.”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

2 - 1 - 1 for the may fic challenge because I love the way your mind works. This is going to be a treat!!!

@guardianofrivendell 💚

OMG...I'm sorry this took a while...It's been a busy two days...

So, here goes my little imagine for you...

Words: 2,4 k

Warnings: none

“Hey, you!” Fíli called you from across the crowded teacher’s lounge and – for a moment – you were more than tempted to just pretend you hadn’t heard him, but he was already pushing through the throng of half-empty coffee cups held in pale hands.

“How have you been?” he asked, leaning casually against a table littered with papers that swayed dangerously but didn’t – unfortunately – collapse under the weight of his muscular body.

“Fine,” you replied in a clipped voice and made to turn away from him; his hand – broad and strong – shot out to curl around your wrist carefully.

It was not as if you didn’t like him, but ever since he had joined the staff, it had become increasingly hard to listen to every unmarried – and some married – colleagues fawning over the golden-haired hero he apparently was.

While you taught art – or ‘how to make an expensive mess’, as you liked to call it – he was one of the cool teachers who sat on benches and let the kids play with fire.

Of course, with the huge end of school celebration coming up, you two had been paired up to find some creative workshops – that would not cost a fortune – and plan them.

“So, I thought we could maybe weld something nice in the workshop, something simple really, like wind wheels or so, and you could maybe paint some paper panes for it?” he proposed; you hated him a little bit in that second for – having checked the budget more in detail – you had foreseen lanterns yourself.

When you told him so, his eyes lit up immediately; he – unlike you – seemed to like that your thoughts had gone into a similar direction.

“You think we could get the glass for a reasonable price?”

You nodded slowly; you had it all figured out and – for some reason – you had believed that he’d kick up more of a fuss about you taking the lead, but he merely leaned back further and nodded appreciatively at you. Lazy sack!

Suddenly, he started crowding you and the discreet smell of his deodorant – mixed with the unmistakable aroma of fresh sweat – engulfed you; it was a thoroughly pleasant smell though that made your head turn slightly.

“Listen, I have a favour to ask from you,” he whispered conspiratorially, as if you were friends rather than simple colleagues who nodded at each other in passing.

You signalled that he might go on.

“My family has a barbecue after the celebration…and my brother is quite a brat; I told him that I’d bring a stunning colleague of mine.”

He looked so embarrassed – huge, blue puppy eyes pleading for you knew not what – so it took a moment for your befuddled mind to process his words.

“What does that have to do with me?” you asked sharply.

“Well, you are the prettiest girl working here,” he answered smoothly and – had you not been thrown off guard by how soft and open his face suddenly looked, you might even have been flattered by his words.

“Hardly,” you snorted, “but let me repeat. What does that have to do with lanterns and me?”

“I wanted to ask you if you would agree to accompanying me,” he grinned confidently.

“And?” you could feel the trap closing around you, but you pushed on in your merciless interrogation of his motives.

“And you might try to pretend that you don’t absolutely despise me. By the way, why do you? Am I not nice?”

Under the cheeky bluster, there lay an obviously earnest doubt, and you forced a smile onto your face.

“You are very polite…that is, you were up to this point. Tell me, why would I pretend to be semi-dating a colleague? So you can pull the wool over your brother’s eyes?” You cocked one eyebrow to express how much you disagreed with that plan.

“More or less; wait until you’ve met Kí, he’s a terror. Either way, you do me this favour for an hour or two and I’ll scrap my own idea and do lanterns. It’s a lot of work, you know?” He winked at you; you understood now that you should have talked this over with him much earlier, but you had not found the courage to face him or the opportunity to even get to talk to him without his fan club this far.

“I’ll draw up some designs and get them to you before the end of the week,” he swore solemnly, that beautiful hand – marked and scarred by his work with open fire and molten metals – coming to rest on a broad chest, covered in a worn shirt that looked so soft that you wanted to bury your face in it.

“One or two hours, you say?”

“Yup,” he beamed at you, “and – as I said – if you could maybe look at me as if I was the bee’s knees, from time to time only, that would be amazing!”

If only he knew how easy that would be, you thought, as your ambitious as much as your playful side were awakened by his ludicrous proposal.

You were an artist at heart and, not only was your project better than his, but you were also perversely excited by the idea that you would play a part, escaping your boring spinster-life for a few hours.

“I do not believe you,” Kíli laughed as he packed several bags of coal into the trunk of their uncle’s car, “you’re bluffing.”

Rolling his eyes, Fíli simply shrugged; he felt bad for lying to his brother, but he had intended to ask the cute art teacher out before anyway, only, she seemed to always slip away whenever he tried to catch her alone.

Throwing her into a family barbecue was probably going to severely diminish what little chances he had ever had though, he realised with a wince, as Thorin came thundering out as if hell itself was on his heels.

“I’ll…We’ll join you after the fête,” Fíli informed him, in reply to which his uncle merely grunted as he was mentally going through the steps yet to be taken; Thorin organised his little get-togethers as if it was the last assault on a besieged stronghold, backed-up by his sister, Fíli’s very own, beloved mother.

“Don’t dawdle,” the very same lady, her long, dark hair artfully braided, barked and then proceeded to chide his brother for not having loaded the car exactly as she had instructed him to do.

“I won’t, mum,” Fí sighed, pressed a kiss on her cheek and straightened his shirt.

“I truly believe he’ll bring a girl,” Thorin muttered as he counted the bags of coal, “why would he wear his best button-down to work otherwise?”

“Ah, wise king,” Dís – mother of unholy pains – mocked, “count your coal and let’s be on our way!”

The lanterns turned out to be a great success and the students surpassed themselves in creativity and skill in their fashioning.

Pride swelled in your chest, but you tried hard to suppress the glow of it for you didn’t want to give Fíli the satisfaction of seeing what joy your collaboration had inspired.

“You’re still on board for later?” he asked, a little anxiously, but you were as good as your word and nodded seriously all while glancing nervously at your watch.

The event was drawing to a close and yet, the sun was still lingering – golden and warm – just above the horizon; it was a glorious day for a picnic indeed and – had it not been tied to the man you so wanted to avoid and escape – you actually would have been looking forward to it.

He looked good, you had to admit, in his impractically light blue button-down and the tight jeans that were only minimally scuffed and – as was to be expected – every other living woman in the radius of 2 miles had noticed that as well.

Weirdly enough, Fí didn’t pay them any heed whatsoever, concentrating his billion watts smile on you instead as he started – entirely unprompted – to clean away the spare supplies into neat piles that he stowed away in boxes that would be much too heavy for you to carry.

He lifted them easily enough into his arms though and put them into the storage room while you wiped the benches; there was something quite gratifying in the feeling that he took his involvement in this venture seriously, but at the same time, there was that nagging suspicion that he was wilfully making you feel superfluous and weak.

By the time you’ve arrived at the edge of the small park, you were livid; he could not be that perfect! He was only pretending to be kind and agreeable to humiliate you by showing you up in comparison.

A group of blindingly handsome people turned to you as you approached, and you felt the heat rise into your cheeks; Fíli introduced you by your first name and promptly left you standing on your own in the middle of total strangers.

“So, you’re the hot colleague my brother goes on and on about?” a young man asked, pushing back a few stray strands of slightly wavy, dark hair that kept falling into his equally dark eyes, twinkling with amusement.

Lost for words, you bit your lip in frustration; it was just like Fíli to play these kinds of games where you could not win for you were utterly unaware of the very rules.

“Never mind him,” Fíli in the flesh shoved his brother out of the way and handed you a bottle of ice-cold beer with a wink, “he’s a huge blabbermouth.”

“Hello,” another man approached you, looking you up and down inquisitively, “I am Thorin, the unlucky uncle of that catastrophe.”

His introduction was underlined by a small jab of his sturdy thumb towards your companion for the night, and you stared at the stranger in wide-eyed shock; it was evident that he not only had been expecting you, but that Fíli had also provided some basic information about you as his uncle proceeded to ask you some poignant questions about your job and everyday life at school.

Once more, you were woefully at a disadvantage; everyone seemed to have gotten a general character sheet on your subject whereas Fíli had not volunteered any further information about this event than to call his brother a terror and indicating a vague timeframe.

By the time your colleague ambled over with another beer, you were fuming with more or less just rage.

“Woah, what’s the matter? Come meet my mother, she’s been so impatient,” Fíli invited you with a broad grin while his hand curled around your elbow gently.

You were halfway to the grill – he had made that one himself as he told you in an overly cheery tone that would not dissimulate his nervousness – when you dug your heels into the soft grass and hissed: “You’ve embarrassed me enough for one evening! Don’t you think?”

“I…what? What has Kíli said?” Fíli whispered back, forgetting about his mother and his uncle waiting for them around the fire immediately as he turned his full attention to you now.

“Nothing,” you replied sharply, “that seems to be the running gag; it seems obvious to me that you’ve given everyone fair warning about me, yet you didn’t have the courtesy to do so the other way around. Do you think it’s funny? To show me up?”

“That was never my intention,” Fíli exclaimed instantly, his eyes flashing like an ocean under stormy winds, “I just didn’t know what to tell you about them; they are…peculiar. It was more important to me to warn them to be on their best behaviour; I was not worried about you not making a good impression.”

There was a deep, earnest faith in his voice and his expression that made you forestall the flood of angry, bitter words burning on your tongue.

“I did not mean to withhold any vital knowledge from you, but…” he shrugged sheepishly, “they are what they are…a bit uncouth, a bit loud, but their heart is in the right spot.”

“You thought I wouldn’t come…” you whispered.

“If I told you that I am not the black sheep of the family? That the others love me well? Maybe, yes, because you seem to find fault with me no matter what I do; I might have been a little scared that you’d reject them out of hand if you knew how much like me they are. Artisans, people who work with their hands, no fine arts and lofty words…”

He looked down at his shoes in shame; you were not sure if he resented himself for thinking so little of his own family or for having so little faith in you.

“You are a prodigious idiot,” you laughed; his insecurity somehow calmed your own and you relaxed as you finally felt the last caresses of the afternoon sun wash over you, “if I’ve been a bit stand-offish, it’s because I might have been slightly annoyed by all the women beleaguering you everywhere you go; must have gone to your head by now.”

He blinked, then laughed heartily as well.

“Oh,” he grinned, “they all just want me to fix this, weld that, and so on; I am a glorified janitor to them, not a real teacher.”

“Nonsense,” you protested immediately, “they swarm around you because you’re handsome; they probably only ask you to do things in hopes that you’ll take off your shirt.”

“Is that so?” Fíli seemed in a much better mood suddenly, “and do you, dear colleague, entertain such devious thoughts as well? At times?”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded at his mother – by now impatiently tapping her foot against the soft ground – and gave Fíli an ambiguous smile.

“I guess that remains to be seen,” you whispered as you started walking once more.

“Despite what the others think,” Fíli gave back in a flirtatious tone, catching your chin between his index and thumb and giving it a small squeeze, “I was an acceptable student; you’ll see, and – if all else fails - I’ll set my brother on you and he’ll grind your resolve into dust by his sheer insistent silliness.”

“Challenge accepted,” you grinned and turned to his mother in perfect politeness; this would be a very interesting evening indeed.

So @fellowshipofthefics, here's another one for the May Challenge :D

And I hope everyone who stumbled across this has enjoyed this :D It's a little long and nothing really happens, but I did my best :D

Lots of love from me <3

[multifandomwriter18]

“If only I could hear your voice” Chatnoir x reader PART 1

A/n: this was requested by DianaTales on wattpad I hope you like it, just to let you know this one shot I believe will be at least two parts. Also I thought this song was suitable for this one!

Also possible triggering warning. This imagine contains strong language, bullying etc.

••••

I never was born like this..

I don't remember much about when I was little..

Don't remember what happiness was..what peace was..how it felt to talk or sing..

How it felt to hear my voice..for people to hear my voice.

Things use to be perfect..my goal was to sing..to sing my heart out and become a singer.

I mean isn't that every girls dream? To become someone people look up to?

To be noticeable?

The doctor's voice rings in my head again.

"(Y/n) sweetie, I'm sorry but your voice box was damaged in the accident..I'm afraid you won't be able to talk..or sing.."

"(Y/n), honey you'll be late for school!" My mother called from down stairs. I let out a small sigh and I gave myself one last look in the mirror before heading down stairs.

I greet my parents with a smile and they gave me a kiss and a hug. I ate breakfast and I walk to school.

I kept my (eye colour) eyes glued to the ground while I listen to music. As I walked I tried to sing again.

I know I can't speak but I've been trying a lot to try to..I just want..I want to sing..

I let out a sigh which sounds like I was being strangled in a way. I hate not being able to speak.

I higher the volume on the music as I walk.

Once I get to school I scan the area for that girl Chloe and her 'friend' Sabrina. With them not in sight I head straight to the school doors.

Without looking up I bump into someone. When I look up I see Adrien. "Oh jeez I'm sorry (y/n) I didn't see you there..you ok?" I nodded and he helped me up.

"Oh Adrien!!!" I froze as I see Chloe and Sabrina running over. Adrien gasped as he is suddenly embraced by the mean blonde girl.

"I missed you so much!" I take a step back and turn to run to only be tripped by Sabrina.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. The little mute girl is back." Sneered Chloe as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

My eyes narrowed as I met her cold blue eyes burn in my (E/c) ones. I brushed a lock of my (h/l) (h/c) hair and glared at her.

What does she want now?!

As I stood up Sabrina pulled out a sheet of paper that slipped from my binder. My eyes widened as I tried to grab it from her.

As I opened my mouth try and speak only a squeal escaped my lips.

Chloe laughed. "Aw the mute is trying to speak again, you really a pathetic."

Tears weld in my eyes as my (s/c) became flushed with anger.

Sabrina giggled as she handed Chloe my sheet of paper I was trying to get back. "Chloe, give it back now." Adrien stated angrily.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry Adrien, I want to see what Mute made..oh my!"

It was a drawing I made of Chat Noir and I..in the drawing I was in his arms and he was holding me tightly as were in the sky.

It was based on the dream I had last night..when I have a dream I like to draw my favourite scenes so I could cherish it forever.

She laughed even more when she found some son lyrics on the back of it representing about Chat.

Chloe began to read.

" 'I don't want to say about you, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you walk, the way your always in my mind~your eyes shine so bright, it's like I'm seeing a whole new light yeah..' What kind of crap is this?" I froze and the look on Adrien's face made me heart shatter.

"Oh my god! You have a crush on Chat! What a loser!" She shouted loud enough for people to hear. Another squeak escaped my lips as I yank the paper out of her hands and ran the other way as tears escape my eyes.

I ran to the girls washroom and sobbed my heart out.

Stupid Chloe..

*Time Skip*

After crying for a while and controlling myself I stepped out of the washroom and cleaned up my hair.

My (e/c) eyes were red and blood shot. Around my whole eyes they were puffy and red. My skin colour was no longer had its natural (s/c) glow. It was now pale.

I splashed cold water on my face and tied my (h/c) in a pony tail.

I step out and walk to class. Miss. Bustier looked at me. "Ms. (L/n) your late to class." I bowed my head and walked up the back of the class.

"She was too busy dreaming about Chat Noir." Teased Chloe making some students laugh.

My heart clenched as I sat down. "Isn't that right Mute? Oh wait you can't answer that cause you can't talk!" Chloe added on with another laugh.

"Chloe, that's enough!" Our teacher stated calmly and I looked down at my shaking hands.

"I mean what chances do you have with Chat?"

"Leave her alone Chloe!" Snapped Marionette making my heart flutter a little.

Marionette and I use to be good friends when we were little. We still are..just..I prefer to keep my distance.

I let my (h/c) bangs cover my eyes as I tried to not focus on Chloe. "Hello? Loser I'm talking to you? Are you deaf too?"

"Chloe leave her alone!"

"She's so pathetic, at least now I don't get to hear her ugly voice, she has no talent what she ever, glad she had that accident."

I froze, my whole body just shut down on me. Without anymore thought I grabbed my things and ran.

A sob breaks out of my chest even before I could make it out the door. I stood back up trying to ignore Chloe's taunts.

"Maybe you should leave, like forever. There is no point if you even being here. No one wants a mute. Your just too pathetic for this world."

I ran, not caring that the teacher was calling after me. I don't care anymore..

I just want the pain to stop..

Strands of my (h/c) hair stuck to my sweaty (s/c) forehead as I ran down the hall and out on the streets.

I even ran all the way home, I didn't care about school, I'd rather stay home..that's the only place I can feel safe..

Where no one can hurt me..

I sobbed as I run to my room and collapse on the floor pulling my knees to my chest.

I tried to scream but only a squeak came out of my mouth. I kicked and three things across my room. I grabbed my music book and threw it hard against the wall making all my papers go flying.

Chloe's right..I am useless..

There's no point for me..

I cried even harder as I grabbed my sketch book and tossed it in my little garbage bin.

I sank to knees again and sobbed.

I hate her..

I hate her..

I hate them..

I hate the world..

I hate myself..

Hate..

Hate..

Hate..

The doctors voice rings in my head again.

"I'm sorry but she won't be able to talk again..she will be mute..I'm sorry.."

That what I always will be..

Forever and always..

Mute..

•••

Two updates in one day. I’ll probably post part 2 later on today. And I’ll try to post some more transformer one shots as well.

I’m also well aware that I got a few asks as well. I’ll try to work on them later if I can. I’m currently working on my other books too.

I’m also going back to work next week so I won’t be active that much again but I’ll try my best.

[dracula-in-purple-story]

How?!

Class 1B knows that Tsuburaba Kosei never holds back his blunt statement and honesty. He reminded the teachers about missing assignments. He never missed the chance to jabbed at Monoma for being such a poor sport. Hell, he got a genuine Kendo-chopped wound on his neck when he straight out stated that ‘Mudman is an awful name’ right onto Honenuki’s face. So...

HOW THE HELL SOMEONE LIKE HIM MANAGED TO HAVE A RELATIONSHIP FIRST?!

“Run that by with me again, Tsu-kun?”

“I want to ask out Asui-chan on a date, Rin!”

“...why?”

“Because her tongue made me feel giddy, Kaibara!”

“That’s the problem! Why tongue?!” Awase slammed his fist onto the dining table in Class 1B dorm. They are not the only ones present though. Each member of Class 1B have decided to loitered around their living room after their first Joint Training with their sister class. It was successful if you don’t count Class 1A’s resident broccoli’s sudden quirk manifest.

All in all, it was peaceful until Tsuburaba Kosei decided to dropped a metaphoric bomb.

Wanting to have a girlfriend or boyfriend in high school is normal, even though training to be heroes (‘that are infinitely better than Class 1A scums’ quoted from Monoma) might make it harder.

The class would definitely support their fellow classmate’s love life, had it not been for such a vulgar reason!

“Why not tongue? It’s the very feature that got me interested after all. Besides, she’s cute! And her ‘kero kero’ lisp is so adorable!”

Tsuburaba’s inner social group heaved out sigh of relief. Looks like he did think it through with his remaining brain cells.

“While I am not up for romancing one from that trashy class,” Monoma sneered before dodging barely from Kendo, “when are you going to ask her out?”

He grinned at the egoistic blond as he stand up from his seat full with self-reassured confidence that only a blunt fool like him can gather. “Well, as soon as possible. So, right now!”

Humming to himself, he quickly walked out from the dining hall, leaving his horrified classmates behind. In no time, Kaibara, Rin, Awase and Shishida immediately went after the brunette. They caught up to him halfway to Class 1A’s dorms. Tsuburaba somehow have a bouquet of flowers, which are probably some random flowers in the bush.

“Sir Tsuburaba, please reconsider this hasty decision! You only met Lady Asui properly today and it has not been a very good impression from both sides!” Shishida protested. He had already witnessed firsthand on how terribly straightforward his brunette friend can be and how bad the consequences after his antics can be.

“Take it from Shishida, man!” Kaibara added in while trying, and failing, to pry that awful bouquet away, “There’s no way you are going to get a girl with how unromantic you are!”

“Does it really have to be now, Tsu-kun? There are always next time. You can gather your thoughts up nicely after a few days, you know?” Rin gestured stressfully as he tried to maintain a calm facade. But how can he? When the most terribly executed confession Tsuburaba is about to attempt is going happen way too soon for the air quirk user’s own good? He would not let one of his best friends getting his heart broken for a crush that started just hours ago!

Unfortunately, Tsuburaba tuned them out in favour of the doors that are within his reach. As quickly as to prevent his best friend from being the main protagonist of his own tragic love story, Awase welded both his and the blunt fool’s hands together to stopped him from knocking the door. Tsuburaba furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Awase, can you unweld me? I need to knock the door after all. We can hold hands later if you want.”

“No! You idiot! Have you not been listening?!” the headband wearer exasperated loudly, which he unknowingly attracted the residents of the dorm.

“We are doing this for your own good! At least plan a better time to confess, you doofus!”

“Confess to who, kero?”

“To you!” Awase answered to the frog girl behind him. His brain did an instant reboot when he realised who he had just blurted out to. He unconsciously unwelded their hands, the Solid Air user beamed as he pushed his friend aside to present the flowers excitedly to the Frog mutant. Her classmates behind her expressed differently, varied from unholy screeches to muted gapes. It’s quite expressive, if you counted the increasingly pale faces from Tsuburaba’s raven-haired buddies and the fainted figure of one Shishida Jurota.

Asui took the flowers with no hesitation before intensely checking out the brunette from Class 1B.

“What’s so good about me that you like, Tsuburaba-kun, kero?”

“Your tongue, at first! It made my heart thumped when you first wrapped it around me!”

“FUCKING DISGUSTING, YOU EXTRA!”

“Shut up, Bakugou-kun, kero. Anyways, kero, this is the first time people complimented my tongue. Usually, they got grossed out but they get used to it as time goes.”

“To be honest with you, I was supposed to think it was gross since you know, tongue, but it would make no sense if you feel butterflies in your stomach instead of vomit!”

Asui giggled as the crowd around the two felt scandalised at the blatant honesty. Who on earth thought it was a good idea to mention vomit during a confession?! Tsuburaba Kosei apparently.

“You are quite cute, kero. Call me Tsu.”

First name basis, already?!

“Right back at you, cutie froggie! Call me Kosei! Is this a yes to a date?”

A date?! When did he mention a date?!

“Oh? What date, kero?”

“Not sure! I came to confessed to you as soon as I could.”

Way too rush and way too honest! Tsuburaba, what the hell?!

The couple(?) seems to pondered a bit before curling up their lips. Before anyone realised what happen, both of them clasped their hands together as they walked towards UA forest.

“Are you sure you didn’t choose this because of me, kero? Admiring greenery doesn’t seem to suit you at all, Kosei-kun, kero.”

“Nope! Besides, we could play Twenty Questions about ourselves, Tsu-chan!”

“Quite ingenious, kero. I thought you are going to suggest movie dates.”

“No way. Movie dates should be saved for cuddling sessions in the near future.”

From the way Tsuyu croaked, she seems satisfied with his answer. And then she pecked his lip, which halted the incoming group of Class 1B as they passed by them, blissfully ignorant while Kosei playfully pecked her back.

“What the fuck did we missed?” Tokage Setsuna, who was in it for the drama, gawked at the newly-formed couple. No one answered her. They were way too busy contemplating on the two most bluntest people seems to live in a different world for the boy’s confession to work.

[sunca]

Hey congrats on starting your writing blog !! Could I request Narancia with 2 and 87 from the yandere prompts? Maybe in like a school setting of sorts? Thank you in advance!! 💕

"𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎"

Yandere Narancia x reader(Yandere Prompts)

2. "Please pay attention to me."

87. "What do I need to make you love me back?"

~~~~~~

Scenario.

Warning : Death, blood, gore, physical violence, curse words, kidnapping, mentioned of stalking, yandere stuff, a bit of lust.

Count : 4030

Thank you. I appreciate it. (•-•)\💖

Sorry for the wait. I've been busy these days but as soon as I finished those stuffs, I went straight down to writing and fixing this.

Please accept this art as my apology. Long hair, fancy Narancia is a must and reader as a small chibi.

Requests still open. Thank you and I hope this brings satisfaction to you.

Sadly, I couldn't post this with read more. ;-; Forgive me.

I almost forgot. Recommended song for this.

Anson Seabra - Stay with me

~~~~~~

Sleepless nights and those stares which hunted you in the darkness. You tried to sleep soundly as much as you could but those nightmares picked you like a marionette and made you dance as they willed. Traces of fingers on your skin offered the ecstasy of waking up. Only to have chills rushing on you. Sweats and tears tainted on the mattress. The warmth of another person, the breeze would steal every night. The welcomed window with a broken lock in your view. An orange wrist band disappearing into the leaves of a nearby tree.

You hid your yawn with your book from your teacher. She shot a glance at you but you just tried to hide between your shoulders. Dark circles lingering around your eyes as you tried to wipe your tears away. You once again looked down at your book to greet with an x and its long lost number. y and z waiting for their soulmates. Numbers running around on your page playground. A discontented sign falling down along with your tense shoulders.

Slender fingers rested on his cheek. His chin stood gracefully on his palm. His captivating purple eyes sojourned on your back. You who couldn't concentrate won't be able to detect his enthusiasm for you. He planned to open his heart for you today. He could only wish it would go well. He can only wish. The echo of the bell rolling into the class directed his attention to turn to his dear friend.

Fugo closed his book and let it rest for a period. His hand reaching for the lemon coloured lunchbox and water bottle. Narancia then get attracted to your magnet but blocked by a girl who stood between you two. Narancia looked up to see her lunch box held tight to her chest. She then build up her courage to ask him to spend his precious time with her. He leaned back. Creating more space between him and her. Showing uninterested body language. A single worded rejection. His feet walking on your yellow path. You getting up to get some space from people, stopped in your tracks when he came into your view.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Nothing to do at lunch. Right? Come join us! You've been busy with that club and activities. I missed you," he whined with puppy eyes. You being your dithering self because of restlessness. "Sure," You replied with a small puff and smile, blinking your fuzzy vision away. His gleaming smile blinding you so easily. "Great! Let me grab my lunch box fast! Wait here!" He gleefully replied and headed back to his seat. A soft smile staplered on his cheeks.

The three of you sitting under the unfixed clouds. A baby tomato rolling under your fork. You listened to the back and front between Fugo and Narancia. This bickering was bringing out more headache for you. Then suddenly, Narancia wrapped his arms around your torso and faked a cry. "(Y/N)! See? Fugo is making fun of me! I just don't understand math and he's calling me 'stupid' again!" You let out a tired sigh and patted his head. "I'm calling you stupid because you are! 33×12 is 36? Oh. What a genius! How many times do I have to teach you that?!" Fugo looked as if a strawberry now. His face all red because of rage.

"Oh, Fugo. By the way, did you heard-," Narancia looked up at you. His hands not retreating back from you but holding more tightly. You were focused on Fugo and letting him know about the new series he caught upon. The two of you would buy the book together or inform each other about the news related to that series. You and Fugo having interest in a same subject once in a while. Narancia was not getting any of it. His eyebrows fusing.

"(Y/N)! I burned my hand the other day!" He put his hand in between you and Fugo's eye contact. You just nodded and patted him again but didn't stop communicating with Fugo. Narancia's hand slowly drafted back to your shoulder. Tears welding on his eyes. His cheeks swelling. He then slowly fell onto your lap. His hands closest to his heart which was aching for you. Both Fugo and you stopped in track. You looked upon a teenage boy in tears, sulking like a baby and resting on your lap.

"Please pay attention to me, (Y/N)."

His voice shaking. You felt bad for not giving him the attention he deserved and run your fingers through his hair gently. Narancia has always been like this whenever you ignored him a bit. You didn't want to speak it out loud but it slipped through. "Aww~ my baby," you wiped his tears away. Narancia started sniffing and sobbing. You picked him up by his shoulder and he sat up. "Don't cry. Don't cry~," Mischief in your sugary voice. "Aww~ There. There," you comforted him with a hug and caressed his head. Fugo scoffed and focused on eating again. Turning his gaze away from the two of you.

After a minute or two, the door to the rooftop swung. A pair of canary preying you in. Burgundy hair combed back neatly. His sharp jaw ready to slice anyone in two. His flawless face shining like silver. Turtleneck white sweater revealing his ravishing physique. Black jeans hugging his slender and long legs. The papers in his grip rustled as the breeze flowed in.

Once he saw you, he stormed up to you. You looked up at Kevin, your club's president. Narancia, on the other hand, didn't want Kevin to come and destroy his paradise, and he knew Kevin would be a bad new for him. As soon as he saw Kevin, Narancia glanced to you. Narancia didn't expect and want this to happen but here you are, looking at a boy other than him.

"Oh, Kev! What brought you here?" You greeted him and drew back your hands. Narancia didn't bother to move from your side. Fugo twisted his neck to look up from his lunch to your target. Fugo repositioned himself since he saw who was it and listened to hear whatever Kevin had to say. "(Y/N), Mrs. Smith said you made some mistakes in the paper sheets for the club. You better get there now and I have things to do," Kevin stood beside Fugo and waited for you.

"I will go there once I finish my lunch," you glared up at Kevin. Narancia was also glaring at Kevin. "She didn't look like she was busy which is unusual," Kevin insisted. Kevin's demand irked you and you rolled your eyes. "Fine," you groaned as you packed your lunch back up. Narancia complained as he clasped your arm. "(Y/N), you don't have to go." Narancia's puppy eyes striking your week spot but you couldn't say no to the class president. "I'm sorry, Narancia but I have to. I will see you back in class when this is over. Ok? No worries," you gave Narancia a reassuring smile and stood up. Narancia's eyes were narrowing at Kevin. Fugo noticed this and observed him carefully. So then, he could step in if Narancia was to burst out.

You headed to the teachers' office and prepared yourself. Kevin was walking on the corridor of the old, abandoned school building. He just needed to grab some stuffs from there. He was on his way until he saw a group of people in a class. He pulled the door open and shouted, "Students are prohibited to come here withou-," he saw an adult looking like a street rat handing a bag wrapped in tape to a student. "YOU! Outsiders are prohibited here too and state your busines -" Before his sentence ended, —wham!— his unconscious body fell onto the dusty floor with a thud.

Narancia tried his best to keep his serenity but something clicked in him. He threw his orange juice and stood up. "That motherf*cker!! $&j#fc;h-e)g£sv%y!!!" He cursed as the bottom of his shoe stamped upon the poor lunchbox. Noodles flat under, the sauce splashed across the concreted floor, the plastic scattered into pieces and his shoe fouled by the mess. Fugo noticed the buzz in his pants pocket and reached for it. Checking the ID, he then picked it up. "Pronto."

"Damn it!" Narancia exclaimed as he rubbed his shoe on the clean surface of the floor. "They're always trying to steal my (Y/N) away. A*sh*les!" Narancia kicked the air and his feet yeeted his shoe. Narancia was too furious to pay attention to Fugo or his talk. He then let out a frustrated sigh and hopped. "Yes. We'll take care of it. Arrivederci," Fugo hung up and shoved the phone back into his pants. He then reversed his direction back to Narancia who was putting on his shoe again.

"Narancia," he calmly called him to see his fumming face almost as if a tomato. "They're making a move now. Gior- Boss want us to take action. Bruno said he will send the info in 5 minutes," Fugo's sentences were short but held engrossing mystery in them. Narancia's face was dark and occupied with a wide grin which would inject a chilling trepidation to everyone sane but Fugo wasn't bothered. The thought of finishing an order perfectly enraptured Fugo as he couldn't wait to spend more time with his beloved who was in a cage. "Go fetch (Y/N) after this," Fugo shot a smirk and encouraged Narancia. The two boys communicating with their eye contact. You who thought Fugo and Narancia were normal teenagers and not knowing anything about their past, didn't even notice the foreboding gift future has in store for you.

When you entered the club room, you couldn't find Kevin anywhere. "MuMu, have you seen Kev anywhere? I need him to check these sheets," you asked a girl who was filling in forms. "Ah! He went to that old building in the west. He said he needed some files from class B," she answered and you smiled at her. "Thank you!" You replied and headed to there. Looking over the papers in your fingers again. "This will be fine. I guess...," you spoke to yourself.

Narancia and Fugo were checking out the rooms at the ground level. They entered the 5th room when you entered the hall. You then zigzagged and stepped on the first step of the stairs. 'Class B. Huh. That would be third floor.' You thought to yourself and rubbed your temple. "Wait. This building has three stairs. Right? What if I miss Kevin? I can't let it happen! I must hand in these today," you talked to yourself and hurried your steps. "Nothing's here too," Fugo looked up to Narancia. He was squatting and checking for footprints or any sign of their target were here or the packs since the info showed they stored some in here. "Let's move on," Narancia replied as he head to the stairs.

You arrived on the third floor and everything was a mess. There were plastic bags, dry leaves and dusts. You looked up to the sign on top of an entrance. It read 'E' and you moved on to get where you wanted to be. When you passed through class D, you heard something. You stopped in track and paid attention to it. It was as if something was being beaten. You backed to the wall and approached the back door of the third room. You sneakily opened the door a bit and peeked in. A strange scent hitting your nostrils.

There was a group of students and some people in normal attire. Smokes surrounding their heads. Cigarettes in between of their fingers. Some were staring down at the centre. You followed their gaze. A fist rose and fell like a tsunami. You couldn't see who was the victim since the desks and some males blocked it. You keeled for a better view and in between legs, you saw a familiar male with burgundy hair. Blood rivering down on his lips and chin. His nose all red. His face swollen.

You questioned why he didn't fight back and you covered your mouth. His fingers bending back in. Blood stained on his white sweater. Two knives attached to his belly. You started to tremble and your breath hitched. You wanted to step in and help Kevin but it would be around 15 against 1. You don't even stand a chance.

You gotta get out of there fast and affirm the teachers. When you raised your head back, the door swung open with a creek. You looked up like a cornered prey under the gaze of a predator. To meet with a pair of eyes staring down at you. A grin sent chills down your spine. You didn't waste any time and sprang for the escape. The shadow behind you chased you down. You were pulled back by a hand wrapping by your waist. "HELP-!" Your mouth covered by a hand.

"Did you hear that?" Narancia glanced at his friend who didn't turn away from his staring towards the ceiling. "Hear what?" Narancia had a confused expression. Fugo then looked at Narancia. "Narancia, call out Aerosmith. They might still be in this building," Fugo commended him. "Okay?" Narancia raised an eyebrow and spread his arms horizontally. "Aerosmith!"

You were struggling against two males. The others were staring or laughing at your inadequate struggles. You kicked, wiggled your body out, punched and did everything you could but nothing seemed to work until you remembered a method. You kicked the male in front of you where the sun don't shine and curved in your spine to smash that nose with the back of your head. The grip around you loosened. Your feet trying to be your life saviour, betrayed by a hand grabbing on one. Your face came in to kiss the floor. A crack rang in your ears and a light flashed before you. You tried to get back up but restrained by a pull.

You rolled around and punched anyone who was in sight. Your hand captured in a grip but you used all of your force and took your hand back. Your other hand reached something and you grabbed it. Panic swung your hand and —Shluk!— crimson liquid spattered. A glass shard deep in the throat of a student. Blood trailing down from his mouth and nose. He choked out and a daub of red landed on your cheek, soon to roll slowly to side. Your eyes went wide. You brought up your hand to wipe the burning sensation on your nose and hide that glup. You were stunned. Your brain tried to reload what you just did but errors delayed it.

Tap, tab, tap, dab, dap, dab, dap, swissh, dab, swissh, dab, dap, zwish, dab, dap, zwish, Dap, zwish, Dab, Dap, zwish, Dab, BAM!

The door swung open, brining you back to reality with a flinch. Your head spun and you saw a ray of hope along with two boys. Narancia's scanning fell upon you as soon as you goggled him. Your nose red. Blood smeared on your philtrum, upper lateral subunit and upper lip. Your obscured tears failed on you. The look in your eyes begged him to save you. Your lips quivering. Your quietened sobs emerging. "What the f*ck!?" A wrongdoer swore out loud and they prepared themselves by picking up some chair, wood stick, spiked bat, and pocket knives.

"Na-Narancia...," You ran towards him but your legs gave out and you crawled. Clinging on his leg. He crouched towards you. Holding your trembling hand in his. Your poor body shaking like a leaf. Tears streaming down on your exquisite cheeks. Your state in this situation and a murmur of your voice turned on the insanity inside him. "Fugo, I will leave (Y/N) to you," Fugo took over his role and supported you to stand up. Narancia's face was hard to read when you glanced at him. Narancia stood tall.

Your back leaned on the dirty wall. Your breath hitching and you hugged onto Fugo tightly. Burying your face in his chest. Snivelling all your emotions out. Screaming were heard in the distance. Fugo patted your back and separated you by your shoulders. "(Y/N)?" He called your name and you looked up at him. "I need you to stay here and not going anywhere. Ok?" he waited for your answer. You nodded while sobbing. He set up a reassuring smile and left you there. You sat there and wiped your tears away. When you glanced at Fugo, you saw him walking into that room.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE S*HT!! YOU SHOULD GO DIE IN A S*HT HOLE, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING B*TCH!!" The dead hooligan lied flat under Narancia's shoe. Narancia's breathes were hitching, and veins were popping out on his forearm and the back of his hand. Blood painted the wall and floor red. The pool under his shoe sticky and thick. They deserved it. No one and by means that, not even a single soul is allowed to hurt his perfection whom he worship daily. Anyone who left a scratch on (Y/N)'s body will be left with a missing limb but made her bleed more than a drop? Haha. Ya gotta be kidding about it.

Fugo stopped him in track. "(Y/N) need you now. Go. I will take care of them," Fugo's hand on his shoulder, giving Narancia a proud smile. Narancia stepped back and cooled himself down. Fugo took out a glass bottle and a handkerchief. He opened the cap and enclosed the lid with the handkerchief. He then turned them upside down. Soon to be back in their position. He handed the handkerchief to Narancia. "Here. Take this just in case." Narancia took it and in a split second, there was a wide, merry grin on his cheeks. He put it in the skirt pocket. "Yea! Thanks, Fugo!" He exclaimed gleefully and ran out of the class with a jolly behaviour. Fugo chuckled at Narancia's usual behaviour and put the covering back on.

Of course. You must be waiting for him all this time. You need him like he needs you. You sinning his thoughts and nights. You who was defenceless. He who was resistless to you or your beguiling body. His hands not wanting to depart from your skin. His lips brushing softly on your throat. He was addicted to you. You who spellbound him, lured him in, ensnared him, planted a seed called possessiveness in him, seized his obsession only to yourself and inveiged him to come swoop your fragile soul from this heartless world. He's your knight in shinning armour after all.

"(Y/N)!" You heard a familiar voice. Your sugary name cloying him more and more. He was drunk upon the bewitching splendour of your beauty. Your voice ripping his stability bit by bit. His body towered you. Trapped you between his torso and the wall. You were in a daze. His tranquil smile avenging your cruel actions towards him. His loving gaze hypnotising the poor prey.

You turned your head to the source. A breeze revealing a dazzling boy to you. "Narancia!" You called your friend's name as you eyed him up. He who bathed in his enemies' blood. You wiped your tears again as you stood up. Observing the boy before you in terror. "I killed them for you~ (Y/N)♡," his voice sickeningly sweet. His usual cute smile inverted into a nightmare with blood staining on it. "Thi-This is wrong. So wrong...," you choked out. His eyebrows raised with disbelief. "What are you talking about, (Y/N)? This is the right thing to do! They hurt you! You are a perfection and I'm your guardian! If anyone try to corrupt you, they are devils and it's my duty to get rid of them! Hehe," he chuckled lightly. As if taking out the fire of life was nothing more than a joke to him.

"Naranci-" you were cut off. "I love you~" The grin not dropping from his face. "W-Wha-What?" You asked again not because you didn't quite catch it but because you didn't get what he meant by that. "I love you♡" An adorable giggle rumbled down his chest. "Wha- N-No! Liste-" you tried to speak again. "No? You don't love me?" The wretched look gushed down your throat like a blazing lava. Guilt's hands tightening around you throat. "No. No. That's not-" Your panic dragged and chucked you down the cliff.

"Then what do I need to do to make you love me back, (Y/N)?"

You stopped. You legitimately stopped. He wasn't trying to hear out what you had to spill. He wasn't even trying. It seemed as if he won't give up or drop that subject. No. He wouldn't and you have had it. You took a sharp breath in. Your legs spun and took a step farther away from him. Your back getting smaller and alarm bells rang loudly in his head. Your direction fixed on the stair. He pulled you back by your wrist and made you face him. His hand sneaking around your waist.

"Let me g-" your lips sealed with his. Your heart jumped like a rabbit and your mind reset itself. If you were just an innocent civilian, he wouldn't do anything to you but remember that time you helped him with that winsome smile? Remember that time when you let him rest on your lap? Remember that time you held him tight in your sleep? You have given him those blushes, those smiles, those giggles, those restless nights with only you in his head, those hushed moans and those vivid dreams. You have stolen his only heart and tried to flee with it. Did you think he was that stupid to let you go after everything he went through for you?

A white silk between the two teenagers sparkled under the orangy ray. The sun slowly dying on the horizon, letting his lover breathe and shine in the darkness with her small sparkling fairies. Your breathing uneven. Unable to leave his dusky purple soul. He fed upon your candy as his right hand flew up to cup your cheek. His thumb swinging left and right. Your cheek dough under his fingers. Your life like a droplet of rain in his palm.

His touches varied into needy ones. His desire asking for more as his lips once again sucked the life out of you. His tongue burrowing into you. Your hands constraining him away from you. Your head trying to break away from his grasp. Your brain sending red flags in your view. Your anxiety lining tears on your lower eyelashes. Your lung shrieking for the oxygen you needed. Him devouring on your sobs.

Your leg swung back to aim whichever part of his leg you can reach. —Wham!— he groaned and reached for his luckless shin. You didn't waste any time and hurtled wherever you can but far from this pitiful boy. Your legs wanting to give out under you but your brain forcing them not to. Your heart ringing in your ears. The stairs blurred in your vision.

You set your foot upon the second floor and aimed to make a U turn to descend more. Coincided with a yelp, your flimsy body was tugged back by a hand wrapping around your chest. Your nose and mouth were covered by a hand, linked with a cloth. Due to the intense exercise you had, you respired a small amount of chemical with a gasp. The sharp smell made you press harder into his chest, gratifying him more.

Your fists hitting his hands, pulling them away. Your body twisting in order to be freed. Your tears messy on your cheeks. Your limbs faltered. Your muscles relaxed. Your soul doors pulling the curtains. Your head rested on his shoulder. Your consciousness fell into the dark abyss. Pulling you along with it. A word echoed in the void.

"𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮."

[themsource]

Not The Baby Bones

Sans X Frisk

Rating: T

Word Count: 1390

Said you needed more Frans? @shayromi Here’s an attempt at funny ^^; based off my favorite Addams family scene from the series and your Frans family! (sorry if it’s not accurate) XD

It was a typical day in the skeleton house; Sans and Frisk both lazing together on the couch with their gathered friends and family watching the latest episode of an anime Alphys had discovered, their son Arno tucked into Undyne’s lap as they both cheered and clapped together at the way the protagonist summoned her sword.

It was all in anticipation for their daughter Elys’s arrival from school, the plan to go to the water park that afternoon in celebration of her actually having studied for her math test last week. The pair of parents didn’t expect when she came home to have a very interesting story to tell. 

They were both surprised to hear it was about one of the parent teacher members; Linda. 

Apparently it was irresponsible of them to send their daughter to school with bottled ketchup in her lunch, the condiment far too sweet and full of unhealthy calories that it called their parenting methods into question. 

Not only did she not stop there but Linda had gone on to say it was insulting they were teaching Elys that eating ketchup by itself was acceptable and that they were also bringing harm to the other children by permitting their daughter to indulge in the habit around them. 

Permitting her to be a bad influence.

Frisk could only frown as she embraced her frustrated little girl while Sans’s sockets had gone black as midnight as he silently seethed. Linda had it out for them ever since the PTA luncheon two months ago when he’d mentioned how dry her lemon squares were. She’d asked for an honest opinion and Sans had given her just that. 

She had no right to take out her silent grudge on his little fart princess.

“Well what are ya gonna do about it just stand there and take it?” Undyne asked at the pairs prolonged silence. Papyrus was quick to respond, his usually jovial smile a tight frown at hearing how harshly his niece had been treated.

“CERTAINLY NOT, I THINK WE SHOULD SEND LINDA AN INSULTING LETTER!” Frisk raised a brow as she looked up from Elys, Sans’s eyelights coming back as he looked at his sibling with a smile. It lightened his mood to see what Papyrus’s idea of a rebuttal was.

“I don’t think we should put our names on it.” Gaster supplied as he pressed the tips of his phalanges together in thought.

“He could sign it a f-friend.” Alphys piped up.

“An insulting letter signed a friend, that would be humerious.” Sans snickered. Papyrus shot him a halfhearted glare at the pun but let it drop, the taller monster was far too upset at the rude human they were discussing to have any heat behind it. 

“I think we should turn the other cheek.” Frisk responded as she sent Elys and Arno off to get packed for their trip. She certainly didn’t need them getting any ideas from what everyone was saying. It was bad enough she was certain her daughter already had a plan for getting back at the snarky woman. Elys was too much like her father and Uncle when it came to wit.

“Nooo! When people insulted me I always used to turn the other cheek!” Undyne droned with a pout. That was so unexpected to hear from the rambunctious and passionate fish monster that Frisk simply had to ask about it.

“And?”

“I ran out of cheeks.” Undyne said with an obvious tone as she shrugged. Now that was not surprising to hear coming from the redhead. Sans sighed and smiled lazily; while he was enjoying the back and forth between everyone their idea wasn’t quite hitting the mark for him. Normally he would’ve just let such a thing work itself out. But this was his babybones.

“welp there’s only one way to settle this.” The sound of Sans’s blaster materializing beside him made everyone stop what they’d been saying to stare at him in surprise. His smile still lazy even as his tone dropped. “linda’s gonna have a bad time.”

“Sans! Please not that!” Frisk pleaded with a sweat drop running down the side of her face. Even more surprising than the unexpected blaster’s presence was Papyrus who turned to look at her with a passionate cry.

“BUT FRISK THE FAMILY HONOR!” Oh dear, Papyrus was supporting Sans antics. Frisk felt her skin prickle as her nerves rose. The world had just been turned upside down on its head. 

“He’s right Frisk the family honor!” Gaster exclaimed in agreement with Papyrus before he shot a smirk at his oldest son. “You’ll have to challenge Linda to a duel.”

“nah, i’d rather shoot her in the back.” Sans waved dismissively as his blaster hovered over to sniff at the flower bouquet on their coffee table.

“Blasting people isn’t the solution to this and that is not honorable.” Frisk remarked as she crossed her arms at Gaster.

“but it’s effective, and safe.” Sans rebutted as he rocked on his heels.

“SANS, SAFE? WHILE I RESPECT YOUR WISE DECISION TO FOLLOW SAFETY PRECAUTIONS, A SKELETON DOES NOT KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD FEAR!” Papyrus cried incredulously. Sans didn’t consider himself as cool as his brother was so he was completely shameless and unfazed as he replied.

“i do, i’ll shoot’er in the back.”

“Remember the Serif name!” Papyrus shouted as he stomped his foot. Gaster waggled his finger as he shook his head, his tone only the slightest bit stern.

“It’ll have to be a duel.” Frisk didn’t like how out of hand this was getting.

“with bones?” Sans asked curiously. A duel usually meant swords and he was too lazy for that, really a good shot of magical energy should be more than enough to deal with the situation. He honestly didn’t see why his family was trying to persuade him from it.

“WITH VICTORY GOING TO THE CUNNINGEST, THE SWIFTEST, THE DEADLIEST!” Papyrus exclaimed, his eyes sparkling like they tended to do when he was excited about something as Gaster nodded his head in agreement. 

Even Undyne and Alphys were giving signs of approval with a shout and half stuttered gush on how anime the concept was. Sans paused to look at Papyrus. Those were verbs that he felt didn’t fit him in the slightest.

“...yep shooting her in the back.” Sans drawled slowly.

Frisk at this point had already given up and simply sat on the couch observing as she drank some orange juice and stroked the blaster’s head. An idea for how to sabotage the whole situation trying to piece itself together in her mind if Sans actually decided to go through with his plan.

“Wait how about spears!” Undyne half asked half shouted as she snapped her fingers. Spears? Sans could get behind that; for one it was magic so he wouldn’t need his hands to use it nor the energy a physical sword would require. And two Undyne’s spears were just as fast as his blasters so it wouldn’t take long to deal with Linda. Get in, launch spear, get out.

“well that’s different than--wait...does she get on too?” Sans asked suspiciously as the thought occurred to him his family wouldn’t give him such an obvious advantage so easily.

“Naturally!” Gaster smiled as he answered him. To Sans’s dismay everyone nodded along to his father’s declaration. He should’ve known there was a catch. Heh he could still work with that, after all he wouldn’t need to use effort like Linda would in welding the spear. Sans might simply have less aim coordination as they’d be Undyne’s constructs and not his bones but if he missed he could just ask--

The whole honor thing resounded in his head and made him squint his sockets at the former guard captain.

“...how many?” Sans asked wearily.

“One each.” Undyne folded her arms with finality. Sans sockets went black as his eyelights went out. Were they all serious right now? Just one? Nope his solution was better.

“...in the back.” He deadpanned as he blinked his eyelights back into existence. Sans turned to call his blaster over. They still had time before needing to head out and he wasn’t as angry as he’d initially been, maybe he’d just intimidate the woman not to speak to his kid like that again, he could simply shortcut on over to the school real quick and--

Frisk and his blaster were missing.

...He just couldn’t catch a break.

[orangeoctopi7]

Back to School

: Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 :

Stan was sullen as they left their morning math class.

“That was great!” Ford chuckled, “I thought Mr. Grauberger was going to spit out his dentures when you answered that tax-cut problem!” But he noticed his brother wasn’t laughing along. “What’s wrong?”

Stan fidgeted with his backpack strap. “Yeah, the look on his face was definitely worth it. It’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “The minute he passed out that quiz, I froze! I should know that stuff, it’s finance, it’s what I’m actually good at, but I just couldn’t think!” He scuffed his feet on the linoleum floor. “All this time, and I’m still just the dumb twin.”

Ford scowled. "That's not true. It doesn’t matter what some arbitrary scholastic test says, you’re smart! I never would have made it home if you weren’t!”

“I know, you’re right.” Stan gave a small smile, “I just... wish I could’ve proved it to them.”

“They don’t matter.” Ford said shortly. “If it makes you feel any better, you can copy off my answers the next time you freeze on a test.”

“Yeah, just like the good ol’ days.” Stan chuckled sardonically. 

They tried to lie low through the rest of the day, not answering questions in class or talking to their fellow students. Neither of them really had any friends, outside of each other, which hadn’t been great for their social development, but at least it made things easier from a time-travel perspective. Nobody found it odd that the twins were keeping to themselves.

Of course, they didn’t have all the same classes together. Ford had advanced classes in Physics and Chemistry. Stan had an extra hour of PE that was basically just more time for boxing practice, and Choir, simply because it was an easy A. 

Stan was enjoying taking some of his frustration out on a punching bag in the weights room when a hulking figure, almost as wide as he was tall, stepped behind the sandbag.

“D’you mind?” Stan complained. He didn’t want to hit whoever was back there when the bag swung back.

“Well, well, Stan the lesser. Practicin' for tomorrow's match?” Crampelter’s ugly visage peeked from behind the bag.

“Ugh. I forgot they held you back a couple of years.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The bully demanded.

“You wouldn’t get it even if I explained it to you.” Stan smiled smugly.

Crampelter stepped up to Stan. He was still almost a head taller. “Your brother’s supposed to be the smart-mouth.”

“We’re trading shifts.” Stan replied flippantly, not even remotely intimidated. “Now do you wanna do this right now, or can we save it for the ring? Y’know, where I can get paid to punch your face in.”

“You’re just scared to take me without a ref!”

“Not even a little. I just need the cash. I got a parking ticket to pay, apparently.”

With that, Stan swung a powerful left hook into the punching bag, swinging it directly into Crampelter’s gut. The bully doubled over, and Stan took the opportunity to get out of there. While he was confident he could take Crampelter even in a dirty fight, it really just wasn’t worth the trouble. 

He decided to skip Choir today and check on Ford. It seemed like their childhood bully was looking for a fight.

It took Stan a while to remember where Ford’s classroom was. He tried to just peek in quietly, but the teacher���s head immediately snapped to the door.

“He’s not here.” She said brusquely as soon as she saw who it was.

“Uh… d’you know where he went?”

“Said he needed supplies for his science fair project.” and with that, she returned to the board, where she was writing what Stan now recognized as the equation to calculate the gravitational forces two objects exert on each other.

There were a few places Ford could have gone to find supplies. First Stan checked the Chemistry lab and the art room. He finally found his brother in the auto shop, which was empty this time of day. When Stan opened the door, Ford was standing at the back of the room casually, with his best ‘innocent angel’ look.

“Oh, it’s just you.” the scientist went back to rummaging through the welding equipment as soon as he saw his brother.

“What are you doing!?” Stan hissed as he crossed the shop.

“Well I can’t fix the time tape using whatever dad’s got lying around.”

“Yeah, I get that part. But you could get kicked outta the science fair for stealin’ from the school!”

“As a wise man once said,” Ford flashed his brother a knowing grin, “Only if I get caught.”

Stan couldn’t help but be a little proud, but there was too much at stake for that right now. “At least let me do it, I already swipe enough stuff that they’ll expect it, and it doesn’t matter if I get in trouble.”

Ford rolled his eyes but relented. “Knowing how the administration feels about you, even if I did get caught, they’d probably find a way to pin it back on you anyway.”

Stan took a look at the box Ford had been ransacking. “So whaddya need?”

“The smallest soldering iron you can find.”

“What kinda filling?” 

“It’s called solder.” Ford corrected him automatically, “Ideally, Lithium, but I know they’re not going to have it. Tin or Copper should suffice.”

“Anything else?”

“A face shield and anything else you can find that'll help working with small circuitry."

"Pretty sure Dad's got some jeweler's lenses in the pawn shop. If you tell him it's for the science fair project, he'll probably let you use ‘em."

Ford grimaced. “I’m worried if I ask to use any of dad’s tools, he’ll want to see how it’s coming.”

“So just show him the preliminary frame. It’s not like he actually gets how the perpetual motion machine is supposed to work. You can just hide the time tape in a drawer or something.”

Ford nodded reluctantly. “Well, I suppose I’d better leave, if we don’t want to get caught. I wish cell phones had already been invented; I’d text you if I thought of anything else I might need.”

“Pch, we never needed those pieces of junk before!” Stan scoffed. “Oh, wait! Before you go, I was lookin’ for you to warn you. I ran into Crampelter earlier, seemed like he was lookin’ for a fight, so, uh, might wanna watch your back.”

Ford flashed him a vicious smile. “Honestly? I welcome the opportunity.”

“Tryin’ to stick to the timeline, remember?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll try and stay out of his way, but if he comes after me…”

“Then you can use your 30 years of sci-fi survival skills to get out of there without causin’ a scene.”

“You’re no fun.” The scientist pouted.

“If I can’t leave Shermie a note, you can’t beat up Crampelter.”

Ford wanted to argue that one of those would alter the timeline significantly more than the other, but he also knew that Stan would not want to hear it. And besides, he really needed to get out of there before anyone else showed up.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 19

After the Governor’s defeat, our community at the prison grew and thrived. Dad and Hershel made plans to use the fertile land surrounding us for farming. Carl worked hard to go back to being “normal”. Beth found love. Daryl and Glenn managed to find peace between them, and worked together on runs and keeping up our numbers and morale.

During one run, they find a man named Bob Stookey. And another member is added to our population. Hershel, Dad, Carl, and Beth prep the land for crops as I keep Judith occupied on a blanket nearby, enjoying the sun and laughing at my brother’s attempts to become a farmer. It feels like we might have finally found IT. That elusive place that my dad kept promising.

With the aid of our new members, with the ingenuity of Hershel’s experience, and with the aid of the prison library we keep adding conveniences. Running water being the one I most enjoy. Everyone has a part to play. With my decision to make sure Judith is raised without the cloud of terror hanging over her innocent head, Dad decides the other children will be added to my self-imposed burden. I become the head of our daycare. Keeping the kids, none as young as Judith, occupied while their parents perform their own jobs.

I’m not their teacher, nor do I want to be. Instead, I am their caretaker between the classes that other adults teach. I’m in charge of their fun, reading them books, taking them on walks so they can enjoy the world that isn’t overrun by biters, and watching as they act out plays that children their age can perform. Carol takes storytime almost daily, even with my own version, and it’s then that I take Judith and rest. Classes aren’t long in the prison, but my days feel full. And I take all the pleasure I can in seeing my baby sister grow and my baby brother find himself outside of the blood and gore that was overtaking his existence.

Michonne and Daryl keep Carl in comic books, every run seemingly adds to his growing collection. And Daryl keeps me in small tokens of luxury that he knows will make me smile. A bottle of sweet smelling shampoo he found in some pharmacy or lotion for myself, instead of the baby scented bottles we keep for Judith and the other children. He offers each tiny gift with that smile that I’ve grown to love so much. And then, late at night, after each member of our community has closed the curtains and blankets that we call doors, he and I slip away to our own spot. Far away from the others, in a section that actually has a real door, we can take our time with one another. Even nights that have no moon to shine through the tiny window of the area we’ve made our home, in darkness we can find one another. Because at night, Dad takes over the care of Judith, and Daryl takes care of me.

Every time a new person or group appears to seek refuge with our group, my dad asks three questions. The answers are important, but more so the inflection that these newcomers answer each becomes tantamount to our safety. “How many walkers have you killed? How many people? Why?” I rarely witness these interactions. Keeping Judith away from anyone who hasn’t been vetted, who hasn’t been deemed safe, is my sole responsibility. Even if Carol has taken her to play or if Beth has her as an audience for one of her solo performances. I find my baby sister, and I keep her hidden away. Sometimes, I have to hide for longer than I’d care to, forced to neglect my duties to the other children, as Daryl, Dad, Hershel, and our other leaders take their time to decide on these newly arrived people. In the end, it’s worth it. Keeping her safe, away from eyes that would see her as a weakness or a target keeps me busy. And once the decision is made, my routine returns to normal, until the next influx.

Carol found comfort in a new relationship. A man with two daughters, Lizzie and Mika, and who has to be locked in his cell nightly because of sleepwalking. Ryan Samuels, a nice man who seems to treat his daughters and Carol well. I’m happy for her. She takes up the job of head chef and seems to enjoy the storytime she started, which she’s earned. The peace, the quiet, and the comfort. After Ed, and then the loss of Sofia, Carol deserves any happiness she finds.

I watch these new people, their ways and their actions, making sure that no one got past Dad’s questions by accident. While Dad is governing with help, I am staying clear of any role that would hand me more responsibility. I have more than enough, I think, as I watch Dad and Carl become more at ease with one another. While I watch Carl’s harsh edges start to smooth a bit, and Daryl learns to pick up more leadership than I think he’d ever considered for himself.

I laugh more now, than I have for some time. Seeing Beth fall for a boy named Zach and seeing Zach try so desperately to make himself useful. Most of my laughter comes from his insistence in trying to guess Daryl’s past life job. He tries so hard to get me to give him hints, but I shrug and chuckle. Daryl’s past doesn’t matter to me, as mine doesn’t even seem real to me now. Carol still teases my love every chance she gets, calling him “Pookie” or reminding him of his sweetness, in full view of all the people who have a trace of hero worship for my sweet man.

He’s gone back to hunting, without me since I've become a full-time parent to my sister. And Daryl’s aim is forever true, bringing back a big game that half our community had never enjoyed, not even in the before that most of us know better than to mention. I find myself laughing at the people who rush to thank him, that want to shake his hand, because the look on Daryl’s face, a mixture of awkwardness and incredulousness will forever make me laugh. He doesn’t see himself the way they do, he can’t even seem to see himself the way I do.

After Michonne comes back from a supply run alone, with nothing more than comic books for Carl’s growing collection, I know that a real run will need planning. And, as soon as that thought flashes, I know that Daryl will go. He always does. And now, after going through all that we have so far, he doesn’t fight me on the goodbyes I have to say. On the closeness I need to feel before he leaves me. Because, seeing Merle die at his hands, he knows as clearly as I do, that it doesn’t always end the way we want it to.

Maggie is scheduled for the next run, but I watch as Glenn takes her spot, and feel like I should find her. Make sure she’s alright, that she isn’t sick or- The thought rushes through me and I close my eyes. I have time, before Daryl leaves and before I have to get to work, so I run to Maggie and Glenn’s “room”. “Hey?” I offer Judith bouncing on my hip. Maggie smiles up at me from her seat on the bed. “I saw that Glenn’s taking your spot, wanted to be sure you’re ok.”

I can see the blush burn on her cheeks and bite my lip. “I’m fine.” Her accent is thicker when she’s embarrassed or any of her emotions are higher. “He’s a worrywart.”

She slides over so I can sit, and she reaches for Judith letting my arms have a break. “Does he have reason to be a worrywart?” I ask, since we’ve settled in the prison, Maggie and I have become closer. We’re basically the same age, and she was there when Lori-

I watch her studying my baby sister, taking her time to answer. “Not yet.” Her answer is quiet, and I understood. Those extra condoms that I’d overhead them bantering about at the farm were long gone. And they’re married now. It’s just a matter of time.

“Are you-” I stop, wondering if it’s my place to even feel curious. Would I, if we weren’t surrounded by the hellscape we were in, be asking the same thing of a friend? Feeling sure I would, I go on. “Are y’all trying?”

She squints at Judith’s button nose, considering my question. “We aren’t NOT trying.” And I have to giggle, which makes her own slip out. “I don’t know, Jessi, I see this little one and I think why not? But then I remember-”

Covering her hand with mine, I nod. We’ll both always remember how Judith came into this world as Lori went out. “Just let me know, when you are, trying, I mean.” I wink at her and stand. Holding out my arms so she can hand Judith over. “I have to go say goodbye, see Daryl off.” Kissing Judith’s soft head absently. “Come find me if you need company. All those kids need more distracting than I can come up with.”

My day, after kissing Daryl with more passion than I think his run mates cared to witness and forcing out the familiar promises on both sides, went along the well worn routine that I’d begun when routines became real again. I kept the kids occupied between classes, and felt so much pressure off my shoulders when Carol relieves me for storytime. Taking Judith for a long nap, for both of us, I woke up to Carl looking like he was ready to throw up, standing in the cell that I used during the day.

“What’s going on?” I ask, fear creeping in. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Judith was awake too, sitting in her crib playing with the toys that kept being found during runs.

Looking around us, he asked if we could take Judith for a walk. And I knew, whatever he was about to tell me was bad news. Carl took Judith in his arms and we walked out of the building and down to the fence, away from prying ears. And there, rocking Judith in his arms, getting as much calm from her sweetness as I did, he told me that Carol’s storytime wasn’t exactly what Dad and the others thought it was. That Carol, the consummate mother and quiet one, was teaching the kids how to weld and use knives. Closing my eyes, letting Carl tell me that she was fucking TRAINING children in the art of killing, I felt that fear that I thought I’d over come come creeping back in harder, with longer tentacles and that it was wrapping around me once again.

And here, away from the crowds of our population, away from the pig family that Dad and Carl had built a pen for, away from the walkers that were crowding around one part of the fence, I knew without a doubt that our world wasn’t nearly as safe as we wanted it to be. And, a snide part of my brain reminded me, it never would be.

[grrrrrrrbarkbarkbark]

hey Danny, feel free to continue venting tho

Thanks random stranger on the internet, I really appreciate being able to vent without feeling like I'm bothering anyone. Here are some things I need to vent about:

1.my aunt just had a stroke and while she didn't die it still has made me question my view of life and death. Apparently I believe in some kind of God whether it's one or many but it is definitely not the one my parents want me to worship and I am scared they will kick me out if they find out some how

2.Adding to the whole not Christian thing is the fact that I'm agender panromantic and definitely know I'm not heterosexual even though I have recently gone back to questioning what it is.They are consverte transphobic and homophobic

3.I feel like of I don't do everything right They are going to starve me.They have kept food,sleep,and bathroom breaks as a light punishment and have also hit me as punishment before.

4.My mother has called me so many things just for being defensive.She has called. Me a worthless "female dog",a useless rat, and a terrible person.

5.My father usually stand by idly allowing this.Sometimes he agrees with her and uses physical punishment.

6.This is without them knowing anything really about me.

7.I have been diagnosed with depression,generalized anxiety, and social anxiety. They still won't believe the doctors and think I'm just being a sad teenager.

8.My father and mother hate each other but refuse to do anything because my father thinks "god" chose her for him and it's against the bible to get a divorce unless your SO has cheated on you.

9.My mom has depression,cancer and diabetes

10.as of right now my family is technically homeless

11.My depression is worsening and that's not good considering I was passively suicidal before

12. Almost every kid in my English class harassed me last year because I said I was pan and I know that they have opposite sides when it comes to controversial topics. I'm partners with the ring leader and I'm in year 11 (a sophomore/10th grader) and we read all the very controversial books this year and I'm afraid to say my own opinion.

13. I know the teacher won't do anything because I already asked and she said sometimes we have to work with people we dont like.

14.I take welding classes in school that are stressing me out enough to cause panic attacks even though I like the subject itself

15. I'm the only one that understands my chem class and people are depending on me and I don't like people depending on me.I can have mental breakdowns because people rely on me.

16.my math class (I love math it is my favorite subject I'm planning on doing it when I'm older for my job) has a really toxic teacher and she's so emotionally draining.

17.My social life consists of nothing and I only have 1 friend and its last years math teacher. And yes I consider a teacher my only friend. All the other people I BARELY KNOW or have expressed their dislike of me after I thought we were friends.

[randomly-random-jen]

Uncalled for Actions (16/?)

A Girl Genius fanfic

When Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part). He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet.

[Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | Part 17 ]

Part 16

Gil stared up at Anevka from where Tarvek had tossed him, his lips still tingling from the surprise kiss. "What was that for?"

Anevka laughed at her brother's retreating form. "Serves him right for spying."

"Spying?" Gil frowned then touched his lips. "Wait, you kissed me because you knew Tarvek was watching?" Anger bubbled up as she continued to laugh.

"Oh, Gil, you're so innocent; it's just adorable."

Gil got up, stepping out of her reach. "You used me to humiliate your own brother." He couldn't hide the hurt in his voice. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her.

Anevka's smile fell away. "Come on, Gil, it was just a joke--don't be like that."

Gil just shook his head as he continued to back away from her towards the gate then he turned and ran. He was only a few seconds behind Tarvek, but the tunnel and staircase were both empty already.

Gil took the stairs three at a time, throwing open the gate at the top with a clank. Which way? He was about to head back the way he'd come with Theo earlier--towards the burning atrium--when he heard a door slam in the opposite direction.

Following the noise, he found himself in an older, less used part of the castle. The hall sported heavy iron doors every ten meters or so. Gil stopped in the center of the corridor, straining to hear any sound, any clue which door he heard slam. His only other option was to just try to randomly open them.

The closest two he tried were, of course, locked and the third had been welded shut. Gil backed quickly away from that one when something began scratching and the knob shook--his father did say Sturmhalten was notorious for its monsters.

He considered just giving up when the door behind him suddenly opened.

"You," Tarvek shouted, face red and eyes even redder.

Was he crying? Something inside of Gil twisted hard; it felt like his heart. Gil was the one that cried--when the other kids picked on him and pushed him down and stole his dinner and told him he was worthless. Tarvek was the strong one that always stood up to the bullies and got Gil through one of the hardest times in his life.

Seeing him weak was more unsettling than he cared to admit.

Gil opened his mouth to say something, but then just closed it again when words failed him. Tarvek continued to seethe in the doorway--his entire body vibrating. Taking a deep breath, Gil tried again to say something, anything, but this time Tarvek turned suddenly and stormed into the room.

Gil followed slowly in what ended up being a rather large and bright laboratory. At the center was a long workbench covered in a microscope, beakers and about a dozen little bottles.

And one familiar dart.

He picked it up, anger flaring along with a phantom pain in his neck. He spun, looking for Tarvek just in time to get a ball of fabric to the face that nearly knocked him off his feet with the force it hit him.

"Deidrick Lafayette," Tarvek said. "That's the name of the designer on Avenue Montaigne, Paris."

Gil unwadded the bundle to find light blue trousers now adorned with a delicate floral design. "Maybe you'll start a new fashion trend," he said, tossing them back with a laugh.

Tarvek's eyes darkened. "If by trend you mean everyone laughing at me all day then, yeah, I'm a trendsetter."

Gil ducked his head--he never guessed Tarvek would wear the trousers the entire day. It didn't seem so funny anymore. An apology was on the top of his tongue when the dart caught his attention again, bringing another surge of anger that was preferable to the guilt overwhelming him,

"So you going to tell me again how you didn't drug me?" he asked, holding it up.

Tarvek scoffed. "I already told you, Holzfäller, I don't care enough to drug you--it was all in your addled brain."

"You think I imagined being attacked in your castle by one of your personal guards?"

"What are you talking about?" Tarvek said, snatching the dart from him. "Why would anyone attack you?"

He seemed to realize what he said a moment too late--his skin blazing as red as his hair, but Gil didn't let the opportunity pass. "You mean besides you attack me? Twice," he added, holding up two fingers for emphasis. "I guess we could also count that one cousin of yours--Tweedle--who threatened to punch my face in. That's three attacks right there; two in the first few hours I was here. 

“Then last night I was minding my own business when this crazy miniature mercenary took me down with two of those."

Tarvek just shook his head. "I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Well, she's your Smoke Knight, isn't she?"

Tarvek frowned, his fingers fiddling with the dart. "There are hundreds of Smoke Knights-"

"Red hair, blue eyes-"

"You just described three-quarters of the people in the castle right now."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Yes, the genetics run strong in your family--you must be proud."

Tarvek crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you have a point?"

"Yeah, at the tip of that dart."

"You know, having a conversation with you is an exercise in futility, if you can even qualify what we're doing as conversing."

Gil matched his defensive pose. "It'd be a lot easier if you just admitted you attacked me."

Tarvek brushed past Gil, tossing the dart on the table then started to clean up. "Yes, you already established that I attacked you--get over it already."

"I meant the drugs," Gil said, picking up a bottle with no label and sniffing it until Tarvek took it away.

"I told you it wasn't me."

Gil sighed--futile was definitely the word he'd use, too. Tarvek would never confess. Of course, whatever he was dosed with the night before had lowered his resistance to suggestion. He'd said too much answering Seffie's questions--had nearly given away closely guarded secrets if it hadn't been for the training he'd received on resisting mind control.

So he figured one of these vials contained some of that truth serum, and he bet Tarvek's self-control would be less defined. The problem was none of the bottles he could see were labeled.

"Fine, you had nothing to do with it," Gil said, obviously surprising Tarvek. "Just like I didn't have anything to do with your sister--Anevka kissed me."

As expected Tarvek screwed up his face in disgust and looked anywhere other than Gil, giving him time to snatch up the dart and a bottle that was suspiciously less full than the others.

"Thanks for reminding me--I'll be scarred for life."

Gil shrugged. "I can't help it if I'm irresistible to the girls in your family--Anevka, Seffie." That freaky Smoke Knight kid.

"Are you trying to get hit again?" Tarvek said, voice heavy with the threat.

With a laugh, Gil patted Tarvek's cheek as he headed towards the door. "I beat you once already."

Tarvek shoved him ard in the back, but Gil was expecting it, easily hopping with the momentum and staying on his feet. "See you in the morning, Sturmvoraus--I have a party that I was very much invited to to get back to." He waggled his fingers over his shoulder and slammed the door seconds before something hit it with a dull thwump then fell to the floor.

"You owe me new trousers," Tarvek shouted from the closed lab.

In your dreams, Gil thought as he headed back towards the stairs to the steam party, but he passed right by without slowing. The earlier thrill he'd felt at being included had evaporated. Anevka had used him just like his father had warned him.

And worse--it hurt. 

He wanted desperately to trust her, to have her as a friend and ally. At least now his eyes were open--he had no allies here; he had no allies ever. It was a lesson his father had tried to teach him for years and he was finally starting to understand.

Now it was time for a little revenge, he thought, pulling the dart from his pocket.

Gil managed to find his way back to the guest wing without being seen, slipping silently through the door while Barkley dozed by the fire. He tip-toed down the hall and listened outside his father's room.

Hearing no snoring, he took the risk of trying the knob, finding it unlocked and the room empty. The Baron was probably chatting with the Prince or working somewhere else in the castle.

He found what he'd been looking for quickly--the case on the chest of drawers--and hurried to his own room, locking the door behind him. In the bathroom, Gil pulled out test tubes and chemicals from the case, setting up several tests on the vial and dart he'd snagged.

It was nearly three in the morning before he snuck the case back into his father's still-empty room and curled into bed for a few hours of sleep while his last experiment finished. He smiled as he drifted off thinking of payback and Tarvek's smug smile being wiped off his stupid, perfect face.

* * *

"We tend to think in terms of what we can see and hear--our two biggest input senses," Miss Ziegler, the science teacher said, "but when it comes to memories, there's another sense that is much more powerful. Does anyone know what that is?"

Several hands shot up in the air. Gil leaned his chin in his hand and stared at the clock--just fifteen more minutes and they were free for the day. Next to him, Tarvek carefully transcribed the answer Willow gave as Miss Ziegler elaborated.

Gil rolled his eyes at the precise way his friend wrote each letter, pressing so firmly with his pencil that Gil knew he could get his own set of notes just by rubbing a lead over the paper beneath to reveal the writing.

"That's correct," Miss Ziegler said. "Smell is one of, if not, the most powerful senses in our arsenal, especially when it comes to memories. Just think about your favorite memories--what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

She pointed at Mathias. "What's your favorite memory?"

"Solstice," he said timidly.

"And what's the first thing you think of when you think of the Solstice?"

"Presents?" he asked, getting a laugh from the other kids.

Miss Ziegler only smiled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "When I think of Solstice, I think of evergreen wreaths and waxy candles and smoky wood stoves cooking a feast of pheasant and goose."

Gil's stomach grumbled at the thought. Not that he had any experience with Solstice--they didn't exactly celebrate holidays on Castle Wulfenbach although some kids did hang wreaths and exchange presents in the winter. Gil never got anything, though.

"What's your favorite smell?" Miss Ziegler asked Juniper Rosewell.

"Cookies."

"And why's that?"

"They remind me of my mother--she loves to bake and sometimes I would come home from school to find her in the kitchen even though we had servants to do that sort of thing. I would sit at the table and help her roll the dough and cut the shapes, and we'd talk about our days."

"Those are lovely memories, Juniper--you'll always cherish them."

Gil's stomach growled even louder at the thought of cookies. The clocked ticked by--ten minutes to go. He sighed, letting his elbow slip out from under his chin a little, his head sinking lower to the desk. Tarvek hummed his disapproval like he often did, making Gil roll his eyes.

The class seemed to drag on forever as the teacher went around the room asking each student for their favorite memory or scent. Each story made Gil more hungry or depressed until panic started to set in when he realized he'd probably have to add his own story.

What would he even say? Did he even have a favorite memory in his short, miserable life?

He glared at the clock, willing it to move faster and resolving himself to figure out the secrets of time and space when he got older if only to go back and escape this moment.

"And what about you, Tarvek?" Miss Ziegler asked.

Gil's stomach plummeted as his heart shot into his throat--he was next.

Tarvek put down his pencil and bit his lip as he thought. Gil glanced from his friend to the clock and back repeatedly. How could time move so slowly one moment and quickly the next?

Tarvek straightened his papers, still thinking. He had just as much time to formulate a response; why was he stalling? Was he doing that because he knew how scared Gil was? The thought set off a burst of warmth in his chest for his best friend.

"Well," Tarvek finally said after a little prodding, "if I'd have to choose a favorite scent it would probably be the smell of grass after a rainy day."

Miss Ziegler and several of the kids nodded in agreement, but Tarvek only stared at his paper, brow furrowed.

"And why's that?"

His frowned intensified, but then he took a deep, steady breath. “When I was little--before I came to Castle Wulfenbach--my father would get really busy so my mother would take my sister and me on picnics. It didn't matter the weather. Even in the dead of winter, we would sit on wool blankets and eat steamy bowls of chowder in the snow."

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, but it quickly faded along with the light in his eyes. "This one time, though, my sister didn't want to come with so my mother and I went alone. It had rained that morning and the ground was soggy so we took off our shoes and socks and walked in our bare feet despite the mud.

“We laid there all afternoon, digging our toes in the cool earth, searching for bugs and listening to the birds sing." Tarvek suddenly sucked in a gurgling breath, his lower lip quivering.

Before anyone could say anything, the clock struck the hour, ending the class. Tarvek shot out of his seat, leaving his bag behind, but Gil was right behind him, shoving everything from the desk into Tarvek's bag before following him out the door.

"Wait up," he called.

When Gil finally caught up, Tarvek grabbed his bag and shoved Gil away. "Leave me alone," he said through clenched teeth, wiping at his eyes.

"Why? What did I do?"

Tarvek pushed him again then ran off, leaving Gil stunned and confused.

He waited for his friend at supper, but Tarvek didn't show which meant Gil only managed to snag a single piece of buttered bread before the bullies confiscated the rest of his food--he'd forgotten how bad things had been before Tarvek, and he went to bed hungry and angry at being abandoned.

But when Tarvek wasn't in class the next day and no one had seen him at breakfast, Gil began to worry. He barely paid attention and missed the entire discussion on how the sense of taste related to the sense of smell, only thankful he never had to come up with his own memory. After class, he waited to speak to Miss Ziegler.

"Do you know where Tarvek is?" he asked, his mouth a little dry with nerves.

Miss Ziegler set her glasses on the table--she looked a lot older and more tired than usual.

"I'm afraid, Prince Sturmvoraus isn't feeling well right now."

"Oh." Gil stared at his feet. "That's too bad." Here Gil was angry Tarvek wasn't at supper when he was sick? Some friend.

"Remember how we talked about memories linked to smells?"

Gil nodded.

"Well, I think those memories were a little too much for Tarvek to manage yesterday--it happens when we're away from our loved ones. They call it home-sickness."

"Oh," Gil said again even though he had no understanding of homesickness. Castle Wulfenbach was the only home he knew, and there was no one here that he would miss if he left. Except Tarvek.

The thought of being away from him even for a night left his stomach roiling and his heart aching. Maybe he could understand after all.

"You're a good friend to him, Gilgamesh, maybe you can think of a way to cheer him up," Miss Ziegler said as she saw him out the door.

Gil sat alone at lunch and supper again, trying to think of ways to make Tarvek feel better which was easier said than done when he wouldn't even talk to Gil for some reason. And it all started because of that story about the wet grass picnic.

That's what gave him the idea, and when Tarvek finally showed his face again a few days later, Gil set his plan in motion.

"I'm not really in the mood for an adventure right now," Tarvek said at breakfast that morning. He chewed a bite of toast half-heartedly then washed it down with a sip of juice. "Besides we have classes."

Gil rolled his eyes--had Tarvek learned nothing from him. "Come on, it'll be fun. No one even knows you're back from being sick."

Tarvek glanced around the dining room at the other kids eating and laughing. "But I'm right here--they can see me."

Gil groaned--why was he being so difficult? "We'll just say you thought you were better, but you were wrong and felt icky after eating so went back to bed, okay?"

"Gil-"

"Come on, Tarvek, what's one more day?"

Tarvek frowned at his bowl of fruit that he'd barely touched then sighed, letting Gil known he'd finally won. Gil pumped his fist in the air in celebration of his win.

"You're not exactly playing into the whole, 'I'm still sick’ thing, you know?" Tarvek said with half a smile.

"Oh, right," Gil said then pushed Tarvek off his seat while dumping his food on the floor. "Oh, no," he said loudly, getting the attention of some of the kids nearby, "aren't you feeling well? You must have passed out and fell and made a big mess. Maybe you should go back to bed, Tarvek."

Tarvek narrowed his eyes at Gil then slowly stood, wiping fruit from his shirt. "Maybe you're right, Gil," he said just as dramatically. "I don't feel well at all."

Just then one of the older girls came over, brow knit in concern. "Should I call the nurse?" she asked, wringing her hands together. "Or maybe von Pinn?"

"No," both boys shouted, startling her.

"It's okay," Gil told her, swinging Tarvek's arm over his shoulder, "I've got him--he's not as fat as he looks."

"Hey," Tarvek said then leaned all of his weight on Gil, nearly knocking him over. 

Gil struggled to keep them both upright as he picked through the slippery mess of their breakfast on the floor. "I think he just needs one more day of rest and then he'll be fine."

"Are you sure you don't want me to get the nurse?" the girl asked Tarvek.

Tarvek shook his head. "I'll be okay. Gil can take care of me--he's not as dumb as he looks."

Gil growled under his breath at the insult, but didn't say anything as he moved them along, still trying to carry almost all of Tarvek's weight--maybe he was fatter than he looked.

The moment they left the dining room, though, Tarvek shoved off of Gil, pushing him into a plant that Gil barely managed to keep from knocking over.

"Jerk," Tarvek muttered.

Gil fixed the plant upright then joined Tarvek, grinning like an idiot.

"Well?" Tarvek said after a moment. "You got us out of class, now what?"

"Oh, right, the adventure. Come on, this way."

He snatched Tarvek's hand and started running, Tarvek struggling to keep up as usual. They wound their way out of the school and through the forbidden halls of Castle Wulfenbach, garnering some attention from the crew, but no one stopped them.

"Where are we going?" Tarvek finally asked when they started heading into a restricted area.

Gil tugged on his hand, but Tarvek dug his heels in, refusing to budge.

"Don't you trust me?" Gil asked, batting his extra-long lashes. Tarvek chewed his lip for a moment like he was weighing his options or trying to decide if he did trust Gil--his hesitation hurt more than Gil wanted to admit. "Why are you still mad at me?" he asked, surprising both of them.

Tarvek blinked. "I'm not mad at you."

"You yelled at me," he said softly, kicking at a scuff on the floor, "and pushed me."

"Oh." Tarvek went back to biting his lip, looking everywhere but at Gil.

Now Gil felt sick--like his stomach was being tied in a knot and his heart squeezed still. He rubbed at the imaginary pain in his chest. If homesickness felt anything like having your best friend mad at you, he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy--he could barely breath when Tarvek stopped talking to him, and all he wanted now was to fix things.

"Come on," he said, softly, taking Tarvek's hand again, "I just want to show you something. Please."

Agonizing moments passed before Tarvek sighed and let Gil pull him forward with a relieved sigh. "If we get in trouble I'm telling them I'm delusional with illness and have no idea where we are--you're taking advantage of my debilitation."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Agreed; now come on."

A couple minutes later, they were crawling through some ductwork into the bowels of the ship. Tarvek said nothing--didn't even comment about them maybe being lost like he normally did. Maybe he did trust Gil after all.

The thought bolstered Gil's resolve--Tarvek was his very best friend, almost like a brother, and he was going to do this one thing to make him feel better.

He hoped.

Soon enough, they came to a grate blocking the way. Both boys peered out into a drab gray hall like all the others on the ship.

"Where are we?" Tarvek whispered, tickling the hairs on the back of Gil's neck.

"You'll see," he said just as quietly before spending several minutes working the screws from the grate with his fingers until they were raw and numb.

Together, they lowered grate and scrabbled out of the vent. Gil didn't even bother to put the grate back--barely anyone came this way--and led Tarvek down the hall.

It had taken him a while to find this place on their pilfered maps based on hearsay and conjecture. Castle Wulfenbach was the size of a small city. Thousands of people lived here year-round, and the city never landed or stayed in one place for very long.

Supply zeppelins came and went throughout the week, but it couldn't possibly be enough to keep the ship fully stocked, at least in Gil's young mind. They always had fresh fruit in the school no matter what--von Pinn said it helped growing minds and bodies develop correctly, and one time he saw the crew carrying fruit still covered in dew from somewhere in the ship when no supply craft had been scheduled to arrive.

Several days of poking around brought him to the large cavernous room tucked into the corner of the ship.

"What is this?" Tarvek asked, taking a tentative step inside.

Gil waited at the entrance for Tarvek's reaction, lower lip caught between his teeth with anxiety.

Tarvek stood motionless a few feet inside just staring up at the trees soaring above them and the glass wall built into the top of the ship beyond that. The early morning sun glinted off the dewy grass and gently swaying leaves.

When Tarvek didn't' move or say anything else, Gil finally joined him on the squishy ground. The first thing he noticed was the smell--damp and loamy. Dirt and trees and fruit and compost and a million other scents he couldn't identify having grown up inside his entire life. It smelled amazing. Much better than cookies or candles or even roasting pheasant.

Tarvek took a few more steps then a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Do you like it?" Gil asked, turning his face up to the warm sun. "I don't think most people even know we have a forest on the ship. It's crazy, isn't it? But they grow all sorts of fruits and vegetables here. And flowers. And there are birds and bees and stuff. What do you think?"

He spun to face his friend, expecting the same excitement he felt deep in his bones but found tears streaming down Tarvek's face as he choked on a sob, fist jammed in his mouth.

Gil ran to him, alarm chasing away his earlier elation. "Tarvek, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Talk to me, please." Gil felt tears welling in his own eyes and blinked them away--Tarvek needed him to be the strong one now. "Did I do something wrong again? I don't understand--you know I'm stupid when it comes to, well, being around people."

Tarvek shook his head, apparently unable to answer then just walked right past Gil into the small forest. Gil followed a few feet behind, his bloody fingers worrying the edge of his waistcoat.

Did he screw up again? He was always making such a mess of things. If only he understood people and what he was supposed to do.

He smacked himself on the head a few times, tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he croaked.

Tarvek stopped ahead of him but didn't turn.

"I didn't mean to hurt you more," Gil continued, the words coming out in a rush. “I just wanted to make you feel better, and you said you liked the smell of wet grass and then I found this place that has grass, and they make it rain in the mornings from the sprinklers up above so I thought you would like it, but I'm so stupid and don't ever understand what people want, and I'm sorry so please stop crying. Please."

The word caught in his throat as the tears overflowed down his cheek. "I don't want you to be sad anymore," he whispered. Gil squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the tears out. His chest was being crushed by an unseen vice making it hard to breathe, and the pain in his center had to be his heart shattering into a million pieces.

"You found this place for me?" Tarvek asked after a moment.

Gil nodded and wiped his face with the back of his hand that only smeared the tears and snot across his cheeks. "You said your favorite memory was a picnic with your mom in the wet grass--I thought this would remind you of it." He gestured weakly at the grassy area in the center of the trees right below the center of the glass dome.

"My mother is dead, Gil."

"Oh." His lip started to quiver again as the tears blurred his vision. "I don't have a mother either," he said softly.

"You don't even remember your parents; that’s different."

Gil looked away, his face burning with humiliation and guilt and other emotions he didn't understand. "I'm sorry," he mumbled to his now-muddy boots. "We can go."

He spun on his heel, not waiting for Tarvek's answer, but a hand grabbed his elbow, stopping his desperate retreat. Slowly, Gil turned to face his friend, not sure what to expect. He'd made a mess of things like he always did--you'd think he'd be used to that by now, but it still hurt to know he'd screwed everything up.

He was surprised to find Tarvek's expression neutral, eyes dry now. "You did this for me?" Tarvek asked again.

Gil nodded then followed Tarvek's gaze over to the trees and damp grass before returning to his friend's face as the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile. "It smells just like home," he whispered then threw his arms around Gil, hugging him tightly.

A gasp of absolute relief exploded from Gil as he relaxed into Tarvek's embrace. "Do you really like it?"

Tarvek stepped back and wiped his eyes with a nod. "It's amazing, Gil. How do they have trees on a ship? We're in the air! It's crazy; I love it. But-"

His smile fell and with it, Gil's heart. "But what?" He fiddled with the buttons on his coat, avoiding Tarvek's eyes again. He hated being so insecure.

"But," Tarvek said, grabbing Gil's hand to get his attention, "too bad we already ate breakfast. It's not really a picnic without food."

Gil looked at their joined hands then slowly up to Tarvek's smiling if blotchy face, relief filling him--maybe he hadn't completely messed everything else. "But you didn't eat," he said softly, "you spilled your food on the floor."

Tarvek laughed. "You mean, you threw my food on the floor."

Gil laughed too because it was all so ridiculous. "It worked didn't it?"

"I could have just told them I was still sick--they would have believed me."

Gil shrugged. "What's the fun in that?"

Tarvek shook his head and squeezed Gil's hand before letting it go. "My life would be so boring without you, Gil."

Gil's heart shot into his throat as his emotions soared. "So you still like me?"

Tarvek gave him a weird look. "You're my best friend, Gil--I love you, you know."

Gil nearly knocked Tarvek over in a crushing hug before darting off into the trees.

"What are you doing?" Tarvek asked, laughing as Gil scrambled up a tree like a monkey.

A moment later, Gil hopped down from a branch right in front of Tarvek and dumped an armload of fruit into Tarvek's fumbling hands. Then he stripped off his coat with a flourish, laying it out on the ground. "Ta-da--a picnic!"

Tarvek laughed harder. "It's brilliant, and I'm starving since someone used my breakfast as an escape mechanism."

Gil plopped down on a corner of the coat. "Do you, like, read the dictionary for fun or something?"

Tarvek threw a cherry, bouncing it off of Gil's head who snatched it out of the air in an impressive show of speed and agility then popped it into his mouth.

Shaking his head, Tarvek sat next to Gil and bit into an apple with a sigh. "This is almost like home in the spring when the snow has melted and it's starting to get warm."

"Do you miss it?" Gil asked, laying back with his hands behind his head to stare through the glass dome at the clouds drifting by.

"Sometimes," he said then chewed his lip for a moment. "But there are lots of things I like about being here, too."

"Like what?" Gil said, waggling his eyebrows until Tarvek tossed a handful of wet grass at him.

"Fishing for compliments is beneath you."

"The ground is the only thing beneath me."

Tarvek rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

The two boys laughed until their stomachs hurt then kicked off their shoes and dug their toes into the soft grass.

"So you never got to answer Miss Ziegler's question," Tarvek said suddenly. "What is your favorite smell?"

Gil took a deep breath, senses overwhelmed by the scent of the grass still stuck to his cheek then glanced over at Tarvek. "I don't know--I'm kind of leaning towards wet grass, too."

[ Part 17 ]

[thundercracer]

“Namesake”

Fandom: Danganronpa, NDRV3 Ship: Iruma Miu / Ouma Kokichi - Irouma Summary: Iruma's soulmate had a weird ass name. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

Available on AO3

Everyone had a soulmate; it was something established from the moment a person was born. Almost like a tattoo, but… somehow more permanent, the first name of their soulmate shimmered onto their skin. Whether that other person was born yet or not… didn’t ever seem to matter, really. Almost as though the fates could just tell a person’s name before they were even conceived.

But everyone started out on equal ground; when you were born, their name was on you until you died. Easy as pie.

Miu had a pretty simple name; it wasn’t too common, sure. But it wasn’t uncommon or rare either. She’d certainly heard of other girls with her name, so she wasn’t sure if her soulmate would have a hard time finding her or not.

With her luck though… she looked down at her wrist.

“What the fuck kind of name is Kokichi?” she grumbled with irritation, as she usually did when she went “soul searching”. She’d asked so many people if they knew anyone named Kokichi, it was starting to get ridiculous. No one! No one knew anyone with that name! There were hardly any records with that name. Her soulmate’s parents were either assholes or blessings; Miu couldn’t say. So far, her thoughts were in favor of them being pricks due to pure lack of results.

Having a soulmate with a unique or rare name was usually a godsend for people. One of those things where they met their soulmate quickly since the names were so out there, so out of left field.

Miu wasn’t one of those lucky individuals.

Kokichi didn’t come up under any of her google searches or roster hackings. Not that she was the most skilled hacker either, but she’d gotten friends to help out with that. Chihiro was a wiz with computers, but even they couldn’t come up with any results!

“I swear when I meet you,” Iruma lamented to her wrist, as though her soulmate could hear her through their shared bond, “I’m gonna kick your fucking ass for making me look this hard for you.”

Months of childhood turned to years of adolescence. Miu hadn’t even heard of anyone with her bonded’s name. Annoyance shifted to desperation. Desperation felt like hopelessness… When would he come? Why wasn’t he there?

Then, after a year of highschool, Hope’s Peak gave her a call. They were offering her a scholarship to continue her engineering studies since she was quickly making a name for herself as one of the leaders in the field, despite her young age. She was applauded as a child genius.

She was hesitant, initially, but was swiftly swayed by the promises of boarding. Her family life wasn’t… as terrible as some people’s, she was sure. But her mom kicked the bucket and her old man was either never around or Miu didn’t wanna be anywhere nearby when he was.

So, packing her bags, Miu made for her new school life.

Getting there and starting her first day was like a slap in the face by god himself; after all these years of searching, looking, questioning - he was there. Their teacher called roll and… he was just. There.

As though he hadn’t been haunting her for years.

Ouma Kokichi. A tiny, shrimpy bastard who snickered at everyone and everything. Who placed whoopee cushions on their teacher’s chair before class and blamed it on Saihara. A little brat who went around throwing out sassy comments like it was a damn Oprah show.

She could hardly even believe it.

That’s my soulmate…?

But… she didn’t go to him immediately. Wanted to stake things out first. He hadn’t reacted to the teacher and their classmates calling her Miu. So… what did that mean? Was he the wrong Kokichi?

But he couldn’t be! she reasoned with herself. Who the fuck else is named fucking Kokichi!?

Time went on, however, without him saying a thing to her about being soulmates. He always wore long sleeves, as per their uniform, and… she found herself not wanting to share either. Her own sleeves, usually rolled up to at least her elbow, covered her own wrist and insecurities.

He never called her by her first name, when he talked to her. As if he didn’t know it; as if he didn’t bother to learn it. It was Iruma this and Iruma that. He was a right little pest, always bringing her blueprints for stupid machines that made no sense. She could make them, of course she could. But she didn’t get it.

“Hey, Ouma,” she found a flash of courage one day, the two of them in her workshop after classes wrapped up for the day. “Do you have a soulmate?”

He stopped swinging his legs from the counter he was sitting up on, looking down at her with almost… surprise? It was rare when someone could catch Ouma Kokichi off guard, after all. She felt heat and embarrassment rise to her face and she waved him off as he looked at her curiously.

“Nah, nevermind. It ain’t important.”

She continued welding a specific part that was giving her a hard fucking time before she heard, in a small voice, Kokichi murmur;

“Yeah, I do.”

Miu didn’t really know what to make of that. Did he just… have one? Everyone had one. That was a stupid question. Had he met them? Did he know who they were?

“Do you… know who they are?” Her own voice, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

She didn’t question him further, almost afraid of his answers. If he gave them to her, at least. You never knew how much information Kokichi was willing to give; and, out of what he gave, it was likely it was not all the truth.

It was weeks later, back in the workshop, before Kokichi asked her;

“Do you?”

“Do I what, shrimp bag?”

He hesitated, and Iruma swore the light pink blush dusting the boy’s cheeks were a figment of her imagination. For her sake.

“Do you have a soulmate?”

She swallowed nervously. “Yeah… Everyone does, dumbass.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Miu.”

Her heart jolted in her chest at the use of her given name. He’d never called her that before; it was always, always, always Iruma. Never Miu! Didn’t he understand that by now? It was cruel for him to break his own rules to the game he created.

“Yeah…”

“Do you know them?”

“I think I do,” she admitted, immense nervousness seizing control of her body. Her heart rate began to pick up. “But… fuck if I actually know-”

“What’s their name?” he asked, no longer hesitant. Openly curious, like a child asking an innocent question. This felt anything other than an innocent question to her.

“I… uh-”

“You don’t have to tell me. I think I already know…” He looked down at his lap. “I’m sorry I never said anything, Miu.”

She didn’t even know how to respond to that. For one thing Kokichi never apologized. Not to anyone for anything. For another thing… it sounded like an admission of guilt. As though he’d done something wrong to her…

“You knew.”

“So did you, to be fair.”

He had her there…

“Well sure… you have a really weird fucking name, you know.” She smiled at the somewhat guilty expression that crossed his features. That little jerk must have known his name would be a pain in the ass for his soulmate to find…

“I’m aware.”

They just sort of sat there, engulfed in silence for a moment. Neither really looked at each other, the two of them taking in the moment and the information they’d each received.

“Well…” Miu finally broke the silence, nervous. “I guess we… well. Do you… uh…”

“Man for someone who talks so much,” Kokichi snickered, “you sure don’t know how to use your words, do you Miu?”

“Shut up you little cuck!”

“Of course, darling,” Kokichi simpered, and Miu would be lying if she said the statement and the mushy expression didn’t cause her heart to skip a beat. Kokichi made a curious face. “Are we dating now?”

Miu hesitated a moment as she pondered. “I kind of assumed soulmates did that… if you don’t want-”

Kokichi waved her off. “Yeah I want to. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. No more keeping information from each other…”

“Oh?” Miu chuckled. “So you’re not gonna lie to me?”

He looked like he wanted to take his promise back before saying, “You’re such a brat,” and approaching her. “But no. No more lies, no more secrets.”

He reached up and cradled her cheeks in his hands.

“No more games?”

“No more games.”

And when their lips met, Miu swore the empty, missing feeling she’d carried around with her for all those years was filled. She was finally complete and the two felt at peace as the names on their wrists shimmered silver.

[permets-tu-not-permettez-vous]

This Side of Paradise

Chapter One: Lost on You 

Cosette turned her key one last time, hoping against hope that her banged up Subaru would start. Nothing. Cosette let out a huff of frustration. This was just the last of a number of stunningly mediocre things that had accumulated to make it an altogether terrible day. First, she had spilled scalding coffee on her way to work, leaving large stains on her blouse that most likely wouldn’t come out. When she got to work, she found she had forgotten to bring an extra blouse from the last time it happened so she had to wear the shirt all day. There was a pep rally which meant the kids were antsy all day and her class times were shorter. And to finish it all off, they had a department meeting after school that had been not only absolutely pointless, but frustratingly boring. All she had wanted to do was head home and grade papers in bed. Well, in all honesty, she just wanted to watch some Jane Austen film in bed, but these papers needed to be graded, and so there was no way around it. Cosette rested her forehead on the steering wheel, working up the energy to call her dad, hoping that he would know what to do. Cosette had no idea where to even start with cars. She was definitely adding wine to her paper grading that night. She deserved it after this shitstorm of a day.

A knock on her window startled her so much that she accidentally hit the horn and her car beeped. Cosette blushed and looked out her window to see a dark-haired and absolutely stunning woman leaning down to peer through the window. She was wearing a leather jacket, had several piercings poking through her ears, and caramel eyes that rested under sharply defined brows. She was clearly trying not to laugh at Cosette’s embarrassment at being startled, which only grew as she saw how hot her audience was. She rolled down her window.

“Your car isn’t starting?” Her voice was deep and curling, like whiskey. Cosette nodded, unable to find her voice. The woman’s smile broke through her resolve, and it transformed her face. “Hi, I’m Eponine. I teach welding and shop. I could take a look at it for you.”

Cosette willed herself to form some coherent sentences. “Hi Eponine. I’m Cosette. It’s nice to meet you. I am also a teacher, in the English department.”

Eponine smirked. “I know,” she said as her eyes tracked over her, and Cosette felt like she was being examined. Eponine knew about her? She reminded herself not to read too much into it.

“I guess it is a pretty small school. I’m new here. Just started this year.”

“Well, welcome. Now, let me have at your car.” Cosette remembered that before Eponine showed up she was having a terrible day. Now it seemed her day was looking up. Cosette jumped into action, bustling out of her car. Standing next to Eponine, she came up to her shoulder. She tried not to let on that she was sizing Eponine up, but she was too focused on the task at hand. She got into the car, turned the key and examined the inner workings of the car, leaving the door open. Then she got out, tracked to the front and opened her hood. Cosette stood there mute, trying to think of good conversation starters, but she kept getting distracted by the focused look on Eponine’s face, a thin line appearing between her eyebrows as she pursed her lips. How had she never noticed her before?

Eponine nodded to herself, almost the way a scientist did at the conclusion of a successful experiment. She moved back around to Cosette, brushing her hands one against the other to clean them up somewhat. “You’re battery is dead. Did you leave your lights on this morning? Your light signal was on in the car.”

Cosette groaned, putting a hand over her forehead. “I must have. It was such a crazy morning. I was running late and had spilled coffee all over myself. I must have forgotten about the lights in the middle of everything. I feel so silly for forgetting.”

Eponine smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. We all do it, even me, though I don’t like to brag about it as the shop teacher. It’s an easy fix. Just let me bring my car around and I’ll jump it for you.”

“Thank you so much!” Eponine shrugged off the thanks and headed across the parking lot. Cosette tapped out a quick message to her dad explaining the situation, telling him that one of her teacher friends who knew about cars was helping her so that her dad didn’t immediately get in the car and drive over himself. Cosette heard a car approaching and looked up to see Eponine driving a green pickup her way. Cosette’s lips quirked upwards. She had to say that the car fit her personality, or at least the parts of her personality that she could surmise from looking at her. But they did paint a pretty poignant picture.

Eponine hopped out, and made quick work out of the jumper cables. She had Cosette get in and turn on her car, which whirred to life under Eponine’s watchful eye. Cosette could feel a smile break out on her face. Eponine met her eyes, and it seemed that a spark passed between them. Eponine looked away quickly and Cosette guessed she must have imagined it, but her eyes lingered on her profile anyway. She came to a decision.

“Hey,” she said, practically jumping out of her car in her haste, wanting to prolong this moment, to bask in Eponine’s presence. Eponine looked up, surprised by the urgency in Cosette’s voice. “Let me buy you a drink. Goodness knows after a day like today I need one, and it looks better if I don’t drink alone. Plus, I really want to thank you for helping me out. You made what could have been a really shitty experience for me pretty bearable.”

Eponine considered it, her head cocked to the side and her eyes narrowed. Again, Eponine got the feeling that she was being observed, was being measured against some yardstick in Eponine’s head that determined the safety and interest levels that Cosette presented. Finally she nodded, tucking a flyaway dark curl behind her ear. “I’d love to. Anything to avoid you ending your night alone at a bar. The only question is what to do about your car.”

“There I defer to your expertise,” Cosette said with a laugh. She really should learn more about cars.

“Do you live close?” Eponine asked, shoving her hands in her pockets. Cosette tried to pretend that her heart didn’t flutter a little bit at the question.

“Yeah, over on Rue de Rambuteau.”

“Okay, well what if I follow you home, you drop off your car and I drive us to and from. Or if you don’t want to get into the car with a random shop teacher we can get a Lyft.” Eponine had a casual air around her that Cosette envied. Where Cosette would hem and haw and take her time getting to her point, Eponine seemed to be incredibly blunt and straightforward with an attitude that just begged for you to argue with her. Cosette wondered whether that meant their personalities would mesh well or not. She shook herself.

“Well seeing as you haven’t murdered me yet, I would be more than happy to take my first ride ever in a pickup truck from you.”

It was worth it to see the look of absolute shock tinged with horror that appeared on her face. Eponine sputtered, her mouth working without forming any thoughts. Cosette laughed; it was good to see the self-assured and practical attitude broken over a small thing like pick up trucks. “You’re joking,” Eponine said slowly, almost more of a question than a statement. Cosette nodded, laughing. “You were joking,” Eponine repeated.

“So you’ve said,” Cosette said when she caught her breath. Eponine’s disbelief morphed into a genuine laugh, a husky amber peal of laughter that was sexy as hell. Cosette sobered quickly at the sound. “So, you’ll just follow me?” Cosette asked, gesturing towards her car.

Eponine nodded, her smile still blinding, and Cosette hurried to get into her car as Eponine wound up her jumper cables and clambered into her own pickup. Cosette pealed out of her spot effortlessly and automatically headed towards home, hyperconscious of her own driving, and checking her rear view mirror much more often than she probably should. As she drove, she attempted to pull herself together. There was a knot of nerves tightening in her gut, and she felt a little hot. She rolled down the window and let the cool air rush over her face. She took some shaky breaths and tried to swallow several times but her throat stuck. What was she doing? Asking a woman out for drinks? She couldn’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Not that this was a date, she reminded herself sternly before she got too far down that train of that thought.

She pulled into her driveway, and noted that Eponine didn’t follow her; rather, she just pulled over on the street and left the car idling. Cosette ran inside to drop off some of her school stuff and change her coffee-stained blouse. She also applied a subtle layer of lipstick, checking her reflection in the mirror of the entryway. She looked somewhat frazzled, her cheeks flushed and her dark hair slightly limp. She tried pulling her hair into a bun. It accentuated her cheeks better and made her seem less red, more put together. She quickly toed on some cute heels, hoping that Eponine hadn’t gotten tired of waiting and driven off. She also hoped that Eponine didn’t notice she had dressed up for her a bit. She gave herself one last look in the mirror. “You can do this, Cosette,” she told herself sternly, like she imagined her mother might have done when she was younger. Cosette was used to being her own mother in situations like this, being both encouraging and cautious.

She hurried outside and hopped into Eponine’s car, trying not to show what an effort it was to get her shorter frame up into the pickup. Eponine grinned, making Cosette think that she hadn’t been that subtle. “Where to?” she asked.

“Just go down this street, take a right at the corner and then another left when I tell you.”

Eponine smoothly shifted gears and drove down the street. A silence descended. Eponine’s car smelled like lemons and cinnamon. Cosette wondered if that was what Eponine smelled like or if it was a car freshener. She checked the rear view mirror, finding it empty. No air freshner. Cosette wondered if that meant it was Eponine’s smell. She was still wandering down this train of thought when Eponine distracted her. “You live in a nice neighborhood. Cute house.”

“Thanks,” Cosette said, unsure where she was supposed to go with that. “I like cottages. I don’t need a big house.”

Eponine nodded. “I can see that. You seem like that type of person.” Sometimes when people made those kind of generalizations it irritated her, but from Eponine it sounded like a compliment. Or at least she hoped it was.

“Do you live close to here?”

“No, I live the other direction from school with my brother.” Cosette was taken aback. Once people reached their twenties they didn’t really choose to live with their siblings anymore. Not that Cosette really understood sibling dynamics; she had been an only child despite her longing for a larger family than just her and her father. But in the end that’s probably what made them so close - they only had each other.

“You have a brother?”

“I have a brother and a sister,” Eponine clarified. “My sister used to live with us but she went to university last year.” Her voice was tinged with melancholy.

“You must miss her,” Cosette said softly. Eponine just nodded, a tender smile touching her mouth. Cosette stared, she knew she was staring, but seeing that soft smile wreath Eponine’s face made her hands clammy and she had her heart in her throat. She tore her eyes away, looking at the road ahead. “Oh shit, we just passed it!” Cosette exclaimed, a white hot flash of embarrassment searing through her.

Eponine just laughed, and found a parking spot on the side of the road. Cosette flushed and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, hoping that she wasn’t being too obvious about the fact she had almost missed it because she had been staring at Eponine. The woman was gorgeous, sure, but Cosette wasn’t sure if she even swung her way. And even if she did, who's to say that she would like Cosette? They came from different worlds, had different interest. Eponine probably wanted someone who was tough and skated derby or something. Not Cosette, who knit her friends sweaters and spent her evenings baking in slippers. She shoved the thought aside and got out of the car, joining Eponine on the sidewalk.

They entered the bar, the soft mood lighting of the fairy lights illuminating glints of red in Eponine’s dark hair. Cosette swallowed. She hoped that this bar wasn’t too cutesy. Eponine looked like the kind of girl who was at home in a hole in the wall backwater bar. They found a table towards the back next to some leafy green ferns, and Eponine shrugged off her leather jacket and ordered a Bourbon on the rocks with an ease and surety that Cosette envied. She just ordered a glass of red wine and hoped that her hands weren’t visibly shaking.

Why was she so nervous around Eponine? Maybe because it had been ages since she’d been with anyone, since she’d been attracted to anyone even, or the fact that this was a new job, a new town, a new friend. Her life was in such a turmoil at the moment that she barely knew where to start with her emotions.

“So,” Eponine started as their drinks made their way to their table. “How’s it been? Tell me a little about yourself.”

Cosette laughed. “Where to start? I finished my degree a couple years ago and worked a lot of odd jobs while I tried finding a teaching position. This is my first full-time teaching position and I’m doing sophomore English. What about you? You said you do welding?”

Eponin nodded, setting her glass on the table with a clunk. “Yeah. I wasn’t able to go to the college I wanted, but I always loved doing stuff with my hands so I went to a trade school an hour away and was able to get my certification. Been teaching here almost five years.”

Cosette nodded. “And how do you like it here?”

Eponine shrugged. “It’s alright. I kind of feel like there’s a divide between us in the shop and doing vocational kind of stuff and the regular subjects like math and English and science. I mean it’s almost December and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.” Eponine met her eyes, her gaze penetrating, and Cosette felt her heartbeat pick up. She quickly dropped her eyes, hoping she wasn’t blushing too obviously.

“And I you,” Cosette said, almost at a loss for words. The talking wandered to less work-related things, turning to music, hobbies, and favorite movies. Cosette was surprised by the amount of similarities they had. From their outward appearances, she would have guessed that they had little in common. But as she made her way through her glass of red wine and Eponine made her way through several funny shop stories, she felt herself relax in her presence.

Cosette was shocked when Eponine looked down at her phone and swore. “Shit, it’s late and I need to get dinner started for Gavroche.”

Cosette looked at her own phone and was surprised to see that two hours had flown by. She was both elated and disappointed at how well they had passed the time together. Cosette insisted on paying for the drinks since Eponine had rescued her from apparent distress earlier that day and they headed outside into the brisk chill of the night and the muted sounds of traffic. Dusk was falling, and as they strolled down the sidewalk, Cosette could see them doing this for years to come, and for just a minute, she let herself believe that they would.

Eponine drove her home, the darkness descending just as the silence in the car, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Cosette tried desperately to think of something to say. It felt so much like an awkward first date in that moment that she almost forgot it wasn’t. All too soon, they arrived at Cosette’s house.

“Thank you again so much, Eponine. You saved my ass,” Cosette said earnestly, unsure where to put her hands.

Eponine just laughed. “Anytime. Next time do me a favor and remember to turn off your lights.” Cosette nodded laughing, and Eponine held her gaze for just a beat too long. She wanted to kiss her so badly her hands trembled. To see what those full lips tasted like. Instead, she cleared her throat and hopped out of the truck.

Eponine rolled down the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, the right side of her mouth curling up into a smile. Cosette nodded and waved, not sure if she could trust her voice. Eponine sped away, leaving Cosette to watch her go in the twilight. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

AO3 Link 

[sparklebitch]

Bully (langst)

Summary: Lance finds out that his bully from the garrison died and he's not sure how to feel about it.

Trigger warnings are posted in the tags.

“What about… Anderson?” Lance said, trying to keep his face neutral. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he was afraid the others would hear it. Iverson frowned slightly and then checked his tablet. He typed for a minute and then peered up at Lance sadly. Lance’s heart leapt into his throat.

“I’m so sorry” he said sadly. “Anderson died in the first attack” Something shifted inside Lance’s chest it was like a weight was finally lifted from him. He could breathe again. In a moment of total relief Lance made the mistake of opening his mouth.

“Oh, good” he said with a sigh. Pidge made a face of shock and horror.

“Jesus, Lance” she said sharply. “He’s fucking dead. Now is not the time for your jokes” And, just like that, the weight was dropped back on him. Slamming into him so hard he couldn’t breathe. Tears weld up in Lance’s eyes. He balled up his fists and slunk away from the group.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” Keith asked, following Lance outside the building. Lance pressed himself up against the rough brick wall and scrubbed his eyes, trying to erase any trace of tears from them. He knew it was pointless. His eyes were probably red.

“No” he said shortly. Keith shoved his hands into his pocket and leaned against the wall next to Lance. He looked around them at the garrison. It was weird being back. It was weird for all of them.

“Okay” he said with a shrug. “But I’ll be here in case you change your mind” Lance wiped his nose on his sleeve and hunched over, watching as a few more tears dripped off his face and into the dirt between his feet. He fidgeted with his hands, unsure of what to do with them.

“I—” Lance began to speak, and then abruptly cut off. He straightened up, resting his head against the wall behind him, staring off into the distance.

“It’s okay” Keith said gently. “You can tell me anything. I’m not going to judge you” Lance grit his teether and scratched his arm anxiously.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean” he explained. “But also… I don’t care that he’s dead” his voice trailed off as he spoke. “I’m glad Anderson’s gone”

“I don’t remember Anderson” Keith said after a few moments, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what Lance’s relationship with him was. He had no idea why Lance was reacting this way to his death.

“Lucky you” Lance huffed. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and kept his eyes forward. Keith cocked his head as he watched Lance. He kept fidgeting and he could see that Lance’s jaw kept clenching and unclenching. “He- he was a dick” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lance said flatly. “He liked to start shit for no reason. He picked on anyone who he considered ‘less’ than him, which was anyone who was slightly different. And of course, he was a good kid, so the teachers didn’t believe m- the people who he picked on. They were different, of course they were going to get ‘teased.’” Lance narrowed his eyes, his muscles flexing unconsciously. “Anderson was a good kid, and very helpful, he was smart, and athletic, and a good pilot, so how could he ever- ever do or say something hurtful to someone!?” Lance spat. His chest was heaving. Keith put his hand on Lance’s shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“So, he was a bully?” he asked when Lance’s breath evened out.

“Yeah. He- he was a bully” he said quietly. “He didn’t bully that many kids, just a few of the nerds, a group of gay kids, and- and me” he said, his cheeks flushing. “Mostly… mostly me. I don’t know why. He hated me” Keith furrowed his eyebrows.

“What did he do?” he asked gently.

“He- he sent stupid texts to me. Telling me that no one liked me. He dropped notes in my locker sometimes, calling me a… a fag and that I should kill myself” Keith’s eyes widened. “Somehow, every time I was in the hallway… he was there. With his group of friends. Waiting for me. A few times they… they caught me in the locker room after P.E. and they would beat me up and steal my clothes.” Lance’s voice trailed off until Keith had to strain to hear it. “They made my life hell”

“Jesus” Keith breathed. Lance straightened up and dropped his arms suddenly.

“So… yeah. I’m not sad that he died” Lance said with a sense of finality. Keith blew out a breath.

“Wow” he said, dumbfounded. He had no idea this was going on. Lance had never made any indication that this had happened.

Lance’s face broke and he choked down a sob. Keith stayed silent, allowing Lance to collect his thoughts. “I feel… I feel guilty. Should I be sad?” he whispered. Keith didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know how he’d feel in that situation. “Am I a bad person for feeling this way?”

“I don’t… I don’t know…” he said honestly, placing his hand on Lance’s back, trying to comfort him. “I don’t know”

~   ~   ~

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