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helenaheissner · 3 months

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Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 6

Hello, lovelies! Don’t forget you can access 3 advance chapters of this story, plus 20 advance chapters of “A Dream of Summer Rain” and two advance chapters of “Magical Girl Exorcist Squad,” by becoming a paid subscriber either on Substack or Patreon!

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Keith

I was halfway through my drive home before I realized that I had what could very easily be construed as a date that night. “OH, CRAP!” I screamed while stuck at a red light.

The car in front of me, a red convertible helmed by a gym bro with guns of steel, honked real loud when I did that. In the lane next to me, an old lady in a jeep gave me the finger and shouted, “we’re all gridlocked just the same as you, you little shit!”

I heaved a heavy sigh and drummed my fingers on the wheel until finally, blissfully, mercifully, the light changed and I got to continue my drive home.

My parents were finishing up a sale of a pair of swim trunks to a father and son duo when I marched in. “Hey, kiddo, what’s going on?” Mom asked.

“I messed up.”

“Is it a legal issue?” Dad asked, not looking up from the abacus he was crunching numbers with.

“Hm, no, a personal problem,” I said, drumming my fingers rapidly on the front desk.

“Are you on drugs?” Dad asked. “Because the course of operations depends highly on what drugs we’re talking about-”

“It’s not drugs, either,” I said.

“Is it a girl?” Mom said, raising both eyebrows and pressing her hands together.

“A boy, actually,” I said.

“Ooooohhhhh,” Mom said, smiling. “I see. Didn’t expect this one, but-”

“No, not like that,” I said hurriedly. “Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Mom asked.

“It’s not a date- it’s not supposed to be one, but I’m worried it might be!”

“Do you want it to be?” Mom said.

I hesitated, ran my top teeth over my lower lip. An image ran through my mind of me in that dress again, my hair done up and makeup on my face, and Underhill… Zeke at the door with a bundle of flowers in his hands, dressed in that tux he’d rocked yesterday, leaning in for a-

BAD! BAD BAD BAD! You don’t like boys! Bad brain! “... No,” I said, in a low, soft voice.

Mom and Dad side-eyed each other in a way even a moron like me could tell meant they didn’t believe it. Finally, Mom sighed lightly, and said, “Then it’s not a date.”

“It’s not?” I said, hoping they didn’t hear the note of disappointment I detected in my own voice.

“In my experience, it’s only a date if the girl says it is,” Dad said.

“But I’m not a…,” I started, before trailing off. I wasn’t sure how to finish.

“Your father is half right,” Mom said. “It’s only a date if both parties agree it is. You don’t want it to be a date, so it’s not a date. Does this boy want it to be a date?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” I said. The disappointment rang clear as a bell that time. Did I want it to be a date? No, that’s ridiculous, I’m not gay.

Wait, no, that’s not… If I am a girl, then that would make me gay.

Okay, so it’s not a date because I’m a lesbian

Or, I would be a lesbian if I were a girl, which I’m still not one hundred percent sure that I am.

Right?

Mom turned to Dad and said, “Honey-bunch, could you mind the shop for a few minutes while I talk to our daughter upstairs?”

“No problem at all, sweetheart,” Dad said, going back to fiddling with his abacus.

The warm, fuzzy, rapturous rush of euphoria threatened to boil every last trace of boy out of my brain at the words ‘our daughter.’ They really thought of me as their… They… My own parents were convinced I was a girl. Zeke probably was as well. I was currently the biggest hold out at only like forty… Fifty… Seventy-five percent sure I was a girl.

Okay, let’s entertain the idea for a moment that I am a girl. As far as Zeke was concerned, he’d gotten brunch with a girl, who’d then asked her to hang out at her place later that night. Said girl was, in his parlance, pretty, and had a bunch of things in common with him. And they’d held hands and shared a milkshake already.

Crap!

Okay, the smart thing to do was to make it clear to him that this wasn’t a date. Guys hated being led on- I knew that much from experience- so the intelligent thing, and the moral thing, would be to tell him in no uncertain terms that we were only going to be friends who watched anime and got food together.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts I barely realized Mom had led me upstairs and was holding dresses in front of me. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Oh, just experimenting,” Mom said. “Let’s start at the beginning- what’s this boy’s name?”

“Zeke Underhill.”

“Zeke Under- wasn’t he one of those boys who beat you last year in the finals?”

“One of those people- he’s the only boy on the team,” I corrected her.

“Ah, of course,” Mom said. “You certainly have a history with him- what did you invite him to do with you, exactly?”

I back-filled her with the most recent events pertaining to all this, and she nodded while holding dozens of different dresses in front of me. There was no way she’d made all of these for me, right? Surely not- I’d seen most of these in the display window at some point, but nobody had bought them. I couldn’t imagine why- they were positively adorable.

We’re using words like adorable now, brain? When did this happen?!

“Hmmm,” Mom said. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but he might think this is a date.”

I sighed.

“But you can see it as an opportunity instead of that,” Mom said.

“An opportunity for what?”

“To dress up,” Mom said. “Show your true self- or at least your hidden self- to somebody outside the family, someone who already knows and whom you know is cool with all this. Plus, it’s letting bygones be bygones with someone who you got off on the wrong foot with. And, on top of all that, making friends is always easier when you’re being your most authentic self.”

“Are you saying I should dress up,” I said, taking a sleeveless blue maxi-dress out of her hands and holding it against my stomach.

“I’m suggesting it, yes,” Mom said. “But only if you want to.”

My hands trembled.

“I’ll do your makeup for you,” Mom offered.

I breathed in deep through my nose, out through my mouth. Then I nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The hours flew by as I tried on a dozen different dresses, finally settling on a hot pink shirt-dress that stopped just above my knees. Mom helped me with my hair and makeup, narrating the endeavor as she went so that I could take mental notes in case I ever wanted to do this myself. I watched the process carefully, trying to commit each individual step to memory.

Finally, when it was over, I took stock of myself in the mirror, and…

And…

“Whoa,” I said, my eyes going wide at the side of the cute girl in the cute dress with the perfect makeup and the collar length hair brushed out and blown dry and pushed back by a white headband. I was wearing foundation, and red lipstick, and dark eyeshadow, and mascara that made my blue eyes look huge.

“Thank you, I like to think I do good work,” Mom said.

“Y-you do,” I said, reaching out and poking the mirror. And the girl in the cute dress did the same. Because that girl was me, and I was…

And I am-

“Kate, your friend is here!” Dad called from downstairs.

I gulped, then Mom gestured me towards the door. I moved for it, then she said, “Wait.”

“What?” I said, stopping in the doorway.

“The piece de resistance,” Mom said, reaching behind her neck and removing the golden butterfly necklace, then putting it around my throat. “Perfect. You look beautiful. My beautiful daughter. All ready for her not-date.”

“It’s not a not-date,” I said. “Wait a minute, it’s not a not-not-”

Mom just laughed, and said, “Go get ‘im, tiger.”

I glided downstairs barefoot, the dress’ skirt bouncing about around my legs, warmth and giddiness bubbling up inside me. Zeke stood in the landing next to the back door, which led to the staircase that brought you to our apartment above the shop. He didn’t bring flowers, but he was holding a big box of pizza, which was even better given how hungry I was. And he wasn’t wearing a tux, but he was clad in a suit jacket over a tight-fitting t-shirt, as well as skinny jeans and converse. His hair was combed, parted to the right, and he had that big, stupid, handsome smile on his face.

I’m a lesbian, I’m a lesbian, I repeated inside my mind, Or I would be a lesbian if I were a girl, which I’m still not decided if I am-

“Wow,” Zeke said as I met him at the base of the stairwell. “You look beautiful.”

My jaw dropped, and a smile crept onto my face as I broke off eye contact and chuck… Giggled. I didn’t have a chuckle, I had a giggle, apparently. Probably had one my whole life, and nobody had the decency to tell me when it was no doubt exceedingly obvious to anyone who wasn’t me. “Thank you,” I finally managed to say over the crowd-like scream of my own pulse. “Let’s take things up to my room,” I said, cocking my head back.

“Forward, aren’t we?” he smirked.

I blushed, realizing what I’d just said. “Oh, shut up. Come on.”

“Okay!” he smiled. That big, toothy, handsome… Handsome?

Handsome. It was okay for me to admit he was handsome. There was nothing wrong with me acknowledging he was handsome, that didn’t necessarily mean anything, I was allowed to think a guy was handsome as I invited him into my room. A girl was allowed to think a guy was handsome, even if she was a…

A…

Lesbian?

A lesbian, yeah. Yeah. Definitely.

I set up a picnic blanket on the hardwood floor of my room for us to eat on, then went and got some plates and napkins from the kitchen. Zeke made himself at home, sitting on the blanket and looking around. “Nice room. Love all your figures and model kits!”

“Thanks!” I smiled. “My parents got me into making them. They actually met at a model building contest.”

“There are model building contests?” Zeke asked.

“Yeah, mostly at anime cons,” I said, sitting down next to him.

“Hm, neat. Can’t say I’ve ever been to one.”

“Never?” I balked.

“Not a once,” Zeke said. “No cons at all, actually.”

“Seriously?��

“Seriously,” Zeke repeated. “My folks were never big on anything they considered a waste of time. You can imagine how they feel about the whole competitive robot fighting thing.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” I said, my brow furrowing and my eyes going wide. “My parents have always been so chill… I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a playful wave of his hand. “Maybe we can go to one sometime.”

A gulp caught in my throat. He was asking me to- and that was- planning a second- he couldn’t possibly be- “T-together?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

“Yeah, all three of us!” Zeke said. “Faith has been saying for a while how much she wants to go to one soon- something about wanting to try cosplay.”

“Oh,” I said, “Right.” I hoped the clear note of disappointment in my voice wasn’t as audible to him as it was for me. All three of us. He wanted us all to be friends- that was probably all he wanted. A thought popped up inside my head, and I tried my best to stomp it out, but it wouldn’t die: I was disappointed that this wasn’t a date. .

I opened the box of pizza sitting in front of me, and my mouth watered at the sight of it. “Is this… What I think it is?” I said, pressing my hands together and looking at Zeke expectantly.

“A pineapple, bacon, and jalapeno pizza,” Zeke said with a nod.

“A PB&J!” I said, bouncing up and down where I sat.

“You like that? Good,” he said.

“Love it- it’s my favorite!”

“Cool! Mine too! I never get to eat them, though.”

“Lemme guess, Faith isn’t a fan?”

“Jalapenos are a no-go-zone for her,” Zeke said as he helped himself to two slices. “Also, she’s skeptical of the concept of pineapple on pizza.”

“Philistine.”

“Heh, that’s what I call her sometimes too.”

I smiled as a warm fluttering sensation ran through my chest. I wanted to stamp it out, but… I also didn’t. “So, ready to watch some Gundam?”

“Hell yeah I am!”

“You ever seen the OG?”

“Nah. How’s it hold up?”

“Goofy in places, jank as hell in others, but still pretty fun,” I said.

“Aight then, let’s do this!” he said, raising his hands into the air like a goober.

We watched the show, and even though I’d already seen every episode twice, I can’t for the life of me recall anything that happened in it that night. I kept looking over at Zeke, seeing his facial reactions and body language, letting that warm feeling I got from sitting next to him and watching him be his goofy self stoke into a full-on fire. It filled me up, and by the end of the night, an entire pizza and two hours worth of anime later, I admitted to myself how much I wanted this to be a date.

Crap.

***

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#original fiction #serial fiction #trans woman #web novel #trans protagonist #romcom #wlw #romance #battlebots #first date #robotics #enemies to friends to lovers #bisexual protagonist #coming of age #coming out

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 5 years

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Morose Mononokean II 1 | Mob Psycho 100 II 1 | Meiji Tokyo Renka 1 | My Roommate is a Cat 1 | Promised Neverland 1

I think I’ve got too many cute fluffy creatures this season...

Mononokean II 1

For some reason, before I started watching this I kept reminding myself of Tomodachi Metre and fearing the new OP (because there’s almost always a new OP when dealing with a second season) would be faster-paced…the song is faster-paced, but not in the way I thought it would be (I thought it was going to be hard rock kind of pace, but it’s at least a tad slower than that).

Utakuni is such a fluffy kitty!

Ah, Moja Moja is best moja, indeed. Gossamers from As Miss Beelzebub Likes just don’t compare, y’know?

The Legislator is practically the king of “You mad, bro?”. (LOL)

Okay-dokay, lemme explain. There are 3 arms of government (known as the separation of powers, in order to have a series of checks and balances) – the Legislative, Executive and the Judiciary, meaning we’re missing that final one at the moment…

I never knew Morose Mononokean was so obsessed with comedy…or maybe I’m just noticing it now that I have experience with comedy I get bored at…

Abeno’s face of disgust really sold that moment with Moja, LOL.

Well, by virtue of being a sequel to something I watched previously, it’s more likely to get coverage, but you can never say for certain until the first episodes are over and done. On to the next thing – Mob Psycho!

Mob Psycho 100 II 1

Alright, all these “II 1”s are going to make me confused someday, aren’t they…?

I think the dude’s Suisho simply means “water crystal”. But I’m only guessing as to what kanji are being used here, so I could be wrong.

The pixel art bit was good. More like that, please!

“Your life is your own” – is that Mob Psycho’s slogan, in the same way Symphogear has that thing about “holding courage to fist” and whatnot?

Unlike Mononokean, which you only need to know the very basics (which are in turn explained in the episode itself), it seems Mob Psycho is playing hardball in that department – if you don’t remember that time Kamuro started kicking his lackeys around, you’re going to have to watch it again. (Either that, or you watch the Reigen recap.)

Hmm…”[something to help Mob] grow” sounds a bit odd, but that’s a correct translation. That’s what seichou suru means.

Oh great…you know how I said I was cleaning out the house lately? Someone found an old copy of this book called Inventing Elliot, which I despised studying about (because it got me some of the lowest grades in my school life, aside from outright failures and close scrapes with failure). The problem is, I’m getting Inventing Elliot vibes from this particular plotline…and since that’s Mean Girls in a boys’ private school + Mob Psycho is all about the abuse of power, that’s completely a storyline the show would go with. *gulp*

Hey, they have actual eyecatches now! Hooray!

A certain kanji for “Emi” (with a mi in hiragana, IIRC) is “smile” in English, so I find it interesting they paired Mob up with a girl like her. (Then again, if it were a hiragana/kanji mix, that’s not a name.)

Oh yeah, the hitode (starfish) shirt.

Rinshi! Ekoda-chan 1

Why am I covering an R18+ series? It’s a long story…

The jokes are, as of this segment with the old lady, only about 50% hits. That seems to be a pretty bad track record. The thing about Ekoda being identified as 3 years older than what she really is is also relatable, since I don’t think I’ve grown much past a certain age.

Note there’s a Japanese store called JUSCO. There was one in Hong Kong, which was full of cool stationery.

Wait…that’s it? So why’s it 26 minutes??? Documentary…okay, I’m getting the heck out of here.

Meiji Tokyo Renka 1

I heard Ume was here…? More bishies and more Ume for me!

What’s up with the Haikara-san ga Tooru outfit, anyway?

Who dis boy? He kinda looks like Mikoshiba from Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun…Update: That’s Ougai.

At least the jazz music is cool. Also, the episode title should be “Suddenly, under a Strawberry Moon…” or something, since it went totsuzen ni.

*Mei checks her phone* - This is why you don’t text and walk across the road, kids!

Ougai…y’mean, Mori Ougai? The loli dude from Bungou Stray Dogs is this redhead?! EHHHHHHHHHHHH?

Oh great. Amnesia plotline…

Hishida Shunso…a painter.

Okay…that’s a really obvious point where you’d be able to insert your own name if you were a gal (or if you wante to play as a gal).

The age of the Rokumeikan seems to pin the timeline down to “after 1883”. For some reason, it sounded familiar, but I wasn’t familiar with why - so maybe I’ll learn about it someday.

“Little Squirrel”?(!) (lowkey laughs for all the wrong reasons) And here I thought “Little Flower” (from Magic-kyun’s Louis and Dame x Pri’s Vino) was awkward-sounding but still endearing.

Okay, second redhead. When I saw him in the OP, I swore he was Ancient Magus’ Bride’s Chise…

So the germophobe redhead is Izumi Kyoka…but I’m not sure who this Kawakami is…

I don’t know how anyone could make a germophobe endearing, much less make him romanceable…

Otojiro Kawakami. Comedian and actor.

Lafcadio…wuh? Update: (Patrick) Lafcadio Hearn, Greek dude with a Japanese penname. He seems to have written stuff on Japan as well as other places.

“…that collection of ghost stories…”

Everyone seems to have forgotten about the roast beef but the animators…LOL…oh, spoke too soon. Kawakami just walked it back to the table.

Wowwwwwwwwwwww, Mei is so easily distracted by roast beef and pretty boys who, to be honest, aren’t that pretty…I’m just waiting for the long-haired dude and/or Ume and I’ll kick my butt out of here.

I thought Fujita was voiced by a familiar voice and turns out I was right – it’s Fukuyama Jun.

Well, that was mildly unsatisfying. I think I spent more time watching Mei getting blushy at dudes and not feeling an attraction myself. Fujita was the only one I wanted and he didn’t even do much but swing a sword. Seriously, though, what the heck was Charlie doing turning off the lights all of a sudden?

My Roommate is a Cat 1

Well, it’s either that title or Dokyounin wa Hiza, Tokidoki Atame no Ue. …which is a lot to write in one shot.

Why’s the cat on Subaru’s…junk?

The cat appears to be typing out the Dancing Men from Sherlock Holmes…except they’re cats. The Dancing Men are basically what made me think I had a career in computer security in the first place, come to think of it…but I’ve abandoned that kind of thinking now. Modulos are way too hard for me.

Them spoilers! I know that feel.

Koguma = small bear, in a story about a small cat. LOL.

Hiroto…I thought about this during the funeral scene, but…why does he look like Suzaku from Code Geass???

Hmm, yeah. I can see why Hiroto isn’t all that convinced – I’m a similar kind of person, with only a small pool of pursuits that keep me going for a long, long time. *looks at rabbit outside and remembers when I saw it in the darkness about 3 years ago*

Oh, so Subaru was so absorbed in his manuscript he forgot to eat, huh?

Kitty show too cute! Ehehehee… <- (ecstatic about having a new weekly dose of cuteness)

Promised Neverland 1

I’ve read the first volume of this. I’m not 100% in love with it, but if I can have bragging rights over finding the next big hit, why not?

Noitamina…now that’s a name I haven’t seen in a few years…*grumbles at Amazon*

For some reason Norman (white-haired boy) has this “betrayer” vibe written all over him. It’s because I know in BnHA and Ao no Exorcist, there are betrayals by certain people.

The aesthetic of this thing is like a fairytale and not like a typical anime. That’s probably one thing that convinced people to give it a shot.

LOL, there’s a Detective Conan door..well, it kind of looks like one.

The word for “tag” in Japanese is onigokko and “It” is an oni. That gives a whole new meaning to “playing tag with monsters”, doesn’t it?

Update: I can sort of feel my “this is popular, so I won’t like it” radar going off...so I’ll put it on hold until I get over that feeling.

#simulcast commentary #the morose mononokean #fukigen na monokean tsuzuki #fukigen na mononokean #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho season 2 #My Roommate is a Cat #doukyonin wa hiza tokidoki atama no ue #the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #meiji tokyo renka #Chesarka watches MP100 #Chesarka watches Doukyonin wa Hiza Tokidoki Atama no Ue.#Chesarka watches Fukigen na Mononokean

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n3rdybird · 6 years

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Reciprocal Altruism Chapter 2

Hey guys, new chapter up. A little bit of Simon x You if you squint. We’ll get to it, I promise. Here’s a picture of our favorite savior as an offering. :P

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Adjusting to Sanctuary life took some effort. Even the largest groups you had been a part of, had nothing on the population of the Sanctuary. There were people of all ages, genders, races; a regular melting pot. And aside from Negan’s harem, which to be honest, still made you laugh loudly (in your head of course), the operation was fairly progressive.

Once vetted, people got the jobs they were best at, regardless of gender or age. You had noticed some instances of favoritism, but for the most part, Sanctuary was a meritocracy. Everyone worked for their meals and their place. The points system worked for the growing community.

There was a clear chain of command present as well. It wasn’t that other groups didn’t have one as well, but this was something else. The kneeling for Negan was hard to accept at first, but you played along. If a little ego boost was needed for you to stay there, you’d do it. After Negan, was Simon, widely considered his second in command, and main Lieutenant of the Saviors; then the soldiers and workers.

In the grand scheme of things, you were in the worker class. Due to your ‘eye condition’ you had been placed in the laundry room. You didn’t have to deal with the bright light of the sun. You weren’t going to complain. You wanted to lay low, and blend for awhile. Allow the “New Girl’ label to go away, and scout for potential donations. Or if worst came to worst, if you had to leave, it wouldn’t be too noticeable.

Plus, the laundry crew was fun. There wasn’t much to do while loads were running but to talk, gossip, play cards, read, really anything to fill up the time. Sanctuary had a lot of residents, and a lot of clothes and bed linens. It was all women, which could be construed as sexist, but aside from the heat and humidity, it wasn’t a bad gig. Some of the clothes were positively rank when they came in; after all, water and supplies were in high demand, so most couldn’t afford to wear their clothes once before washing.

Of course with the downtime, and being a room full of women, gossiping happened. The women wanted to know all about you and your life before Sanctuary. Aside from the whole undead business, you told the truth. You imagined your story sounded much like everyone else. Death and heartache didn’t discriminate between the living and the undead.

The head laundress, Mona, was in her fifties and a formidable woman. She was hardworking, and quick to call people on their shit. She was also a notorious busy body. Not in a malicious sense, but in a mother hen way. She watched out for the women under her charge, making sure they had what they needed, or covered shifts when people were sick.

You had seen Simon a few times around Sanctuary, but he was out with the scavenger crews most of the time. But when you did, he gave you a smile and a nod, sometimes asking after you, making sure you were settled in.

Mona’s keen eyes caught each interaction, however mundane, and fueled her imagination for what could be a hot piece of gossip.

“So, a particular Savior has been asking about you,” her tone conspiratorial.

You looked up from the laundry you were folding.

“Hm?”

Mona rolled her eyes.

“Simon,” she said firmly. “He was asking about you.”

“He’s probably just making sure I won’t start a mutiny. After all, he was the one to bring me back; it wouldn’t be a good reflection on him,” you said blithely, turning your attention back to your pile of towels.

Mona sighed dramatically.

“If you say so,” obviously put out that you wouldn’t tell her what was really going on, imagined or not.

A bell rang, denoting the end of the morning shift. You were perfectly content to finish your stack of linens and then hide until second shift, when Mona tucked her arm around yours.

“Come on, time for lunch.”

You internally blanched. You had been able to skip most mealtimes, feigning sleep or saying you’d eat later. Regular food was not easy on your body. And with the lack of actual sustenance lately, lunch was going to end with you vomiting.

“I’m going to finish this pile and go take a nap instead,” you said.

Mona shook her head.

“No you aren’t missy. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you skipping meals sometimes.”

You sighed. Damn Mona and her hawk eyes. You knew she was just making sure you stayed healthy, like she did with all her other ‘girls’, but you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stomach anything today.

“Okay, just let me clean up before joining the general population,” you agreed, pulling your hair off your neck.

The older woman stared at you.

“Are you kidding honey?” she said, poking your face and then pointed to her’s.

“I don’t know how you do it, but compared to you I look like Rudolph’s redder cousin Heatstroke. Do you even sweat?”

You pushed her playfully.

“Just a human Popsicle,” you said, touching her neck with your hands.

She jumped at the feeling, and clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

“Must be anemia,” she said, studying your complexion. “Well no wonder, you don’t eat near enough.”

With a resolute expression, she pushed you towards the ‘cafeteria’. In actuality, it was just an open portion of the factory floor, with several long picnic style tables lined in rows.

The mess hall was fairly empty, in between breakfast and lunch. Mona dragged you to the line. When she tried to get you to load your plate with rice and vegetables, you declined, getting a small amount of thin broth and bread.

Hopefully the light fare wouldn’t make you vomit like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. At the very least, you were expecting some stomach cramps as your body tried and failed to digest the food. It was so much easier pretending to eat when food wasn’t such a commodity. Before, you could say “oh, I ate a big lunch,” or “I’m on a diet,” and people would leave you alone. That wasn’t the case anymore, and anyone refusing to eat would garner more scrutiny.

The two of you found seats at a quiet end of the tables, away from the people already seated.

“You really ought to eat more than that,” she chided.

You waved off her concern.

“I spent a long time wandering before I got here. I’m still not used to such large portions. Besides, I don’t want to get too sleepy after lunch. Still have to do the Wives’ sheets.”

Mona’s eyes narrowed and tried to suss out if you were lying to her.

You countered her stare down while taking a swallow of the broth, raising a brow. Mona rolled her eyes and continued to dig into her rice.

Mona chatted between bites, pointing out people you hadn’t met yet. She gave you the skinny on who was sleeping with whom, or who was angling for promotions. Being apart of the maintenance crew had its perks; kind of like private detectives. They saw and heard all.

While you were listening to Mona recount the tale of catching two residents having sex in one of the supply closets, with the level of detail you had come to expect, a familiar scent entered the room.

You cast your eyes to Simon, as he joined the growing line for food. You could appreciate the way his pants fit his ass as he bent down to retie his boot. You brought your gaze back to Mona, who was chewing a mouthful of green beans. She smirked and waggled her brows.

You shook your head.

“What? The man has a nice ass. Even you can’t deny it,” you said, deciding to own up to your ogling rather than fuel her imagination with some secret romance.

Mona nodded.

“Can’t disagree.”

The two of you turned to watch as Simon walked over to the two of you.

“Morning ladies, mind if I join?”

Mona gave you and wink and gestured to the open seats available. Simon took the one next to you, his thigh brushing yours as he stepped over the bench seat.

The warmth radiating off him was intoxicating. As was his scent. There was just something inherently tempting about him. Maybe it was the fact he was the first human you came into contact with since your last group died. Or the fact that he was attractive, in a manly hard-worker way. You may not have had human blood in over a month, but sex you had abstained from from longer. So your thirst combined with your still very alive libido tended to wreak havoc together.

“(Y/N)?” his voice broke into your thoughts.

You turned to see Simon looking at you quizzically.

“Is that all you’re eating? Surely you have points for more.”

You shook your head, falling back on your usual excuse.

“My stomach still can’t handle a lot of food.”

Simon looked to Mona for confirmation, who just shrugged.

“I’ve tried to get her to eat more. She’s stubborn.”

The mustached Savior laughed.

“That’s an understatement. I wasn’t sure if I should bring this one back. Very troublesome.”

You crossed your arms.

“I’m right here you know? Is this some newbie hazing?”

Simon draped a long arm over your shoulder.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said laughing.

You froze. He was too close. You could feel his pulse as his body touched yours. His wrist was dangling just off the side of your face, his plump veins tempting you.

You stood up quickly, flashing what you hoped was an apologetic expression to Mona, but you were sure it was some half grimace/half fake smile that no one would believe.

“Gotta run, see you for second shift.”

Your lunch companions shared confused looks, but waved you off stiltedly.

You had to get away from him quickly, but you didn’t want to run out of there like a crazy person. You controlled your walk until you were out of sight before breaking into a run.

You fled to the outside, the light burning your eyes. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your thirst. The pain from the sun, combined with the rotting smell of the walkers distracted you from your craving momentarily.

You needed blood, animal or otherwise tonight.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Sneaking out of Sanctuary at night wasn’t difficult as a vampire. Most of the community had to abide by curfew, so the only people up were the guards. If you had been human, the guards and the fence would be a problem. You had a few near misses, particularly when the guards weren’t as strict in their routines. You had to scale a truck once, and wait on the roof while two guards finished a long conversation before returning to their posts.

You always aimed to be quick whenever you hunted. You would break for a nearby forest, and hunt for deer or smaller game. So when you got to your hunting grounds, you immediately tried to scent out prey. You had been successful in this area before, so when you couldn’t find much, you started to worry. You had snagged a rabbit, but the tiny creature barely satisfied your thirst.

You began to expand your target area, hoping to find something else. You were further than you intended to go, when your nose wrinkled. The familiar scent of the dead filled your nose, and you paused, listening for signs of movement. There was nothing but silence, but the smell was too great for it to be a fluke.

You scaled a tree, and climbed as far as the branches would hold you. Falling out of a tree and getting impaled on a branch was not in your plans for tonight. Once you were high enough, a breeze hit you square in the face. Eau de Walker, fantastic.

A herd, one of the largest you’d seen in awhile, was a few miles away. You scouted your surroundings, knowing one of the outposts should have been in the area. There was no way for a herd to have gotten so close without alerting Negan and the Saviors.

You shimmied down the tree quickly. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you took off, using your vampire speed to make your way back to Sanctuary.

On the edge of the town, your speed failed you, and you had to resort to walking, albeit still faster than a normal human. You had burned up too much energy and hadn’t drunk enough blood to sustain the pace. This whole night was a wash, and you were fucked. You could only hope that you would be able to leave again the next night and snag something more substantial than a cottontail.

You hurried to the fence, hoping to sneak in unnoticed, when footsteps caught your attention.

“What do we have here?” the low voice of Negan made you pause. You muttered a curse under your breath. With your haste, you hadn’t been as careful as you should have been, and now you were caught outside the fence.

You removed your hands from the fence slowly. As you turned, you saw him flanked by Simon and a few other Saviors. You dropped to one knee.

“Now I know I am always very explicit when it comes to the rules. And my rules are fairly fucking simple, isn’t that right Simon?” Negan asked his right hand man.

Simon looked at you, his expression unreadable. It was a far cry from the Simon you had interacted with in the past. No jokes, no quips, just ‘Negan’s right hand Simon’.

“That would be correct,” he answered, staring you down as he tried to ascertain what you could possibly be doing outside the fence, at night.

“So, since I’m very clear about what is and isn’t allowed, what could possibly be your reason for fucking breaking my rules?” he asked sauntering over to you, the ever present Lucille on his shoulder.

You kept silent, not sure if speaking would earn you a date with Lucille or the iron. You might be stronger than most men combined, but the semi-automatic weapons trained on you gave you pause. Getting shot still hurt and you were still sure a head shot meant death.

Even if you did manage to escape this situation with your undead life that herd you spotted would still be a problem, for you, and the Sanctuary. And you would never leave the unarmed workers for the walkers to kill. They wouldn’t be able to survive.

“Well, what does your little escapee have to say for herself?’ Negan asked again, Lucille leaving his shoulder and leveling with your face.

You brought your eyes to his, and he grinned at your boldness.

“Whew, those eyes,” Negan all but purred. “They practically glow in the dark. No wonder the light hurts ya. But, rules are rules darling. Just because you batted those pretty eyes at Simon doesn’t give you a free pass to leave, no ma’am. So what do you have to say for yourself?” he asked again, tightening his grip on Lucille.

“Yes, I did break the rules,” you started evenly.

Negan scoffed.

“Well no shit sweetheart,” he said, gesturing to your surroundings.

“And I’ll take my punishment. But-”

“Aint no butts, except yours which is on my shit list.”

He nodded his head to Simon, who stepped up to your side, grasping your arm.

“Take her to the cells Simon. After all, she was your damsel in distress,” he said mockingly, making sure to bat his eyes and purse his lips in a kiss at his second in command.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You allowed Simon to pull you to the darkened hallway where the cells were located. The walk was silent, as you tried to figure out your next move. You could knock out Simon and get the fuck out of there. Little did Simon know, Negan had actually done himself and the mustachioed savior a favor having him lead you to the cell. Anyone else would be dropped and you would be gone. But then, the herd posed another problem. It could just slide right by, but with the convoys heading out almost every morning, the sound would surely draw them, as well as any gunfire. Sanctuary needed to be warned.

You looked up to Simon’s face, which was clouded with irritation. You opened your mouth to say something, but he shook his head.

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but you’ve put me in a bad position. I brought you back here and got you set up with a cushy job. And what do I get? Shit on a plate. And I’ll have to eat that shit with a smile.”

He stopped in front of an empty cell, opening it.

“And I don’t appreciate you putting that shit in front of me.”

You chewed your lip. You felt guilty, but they didn’t understand your situation. But then again, you hadn’t trusted any of them to understand, so why would they trust you, especially after getting caught leaving at night? For all they knew, you were planning an attack. Maybe you should have told someone, instead of playing it safe. Instead, you had to rely on the mercy of your current captor and his boss, a man who ironed people’s faces, or beat them with a bat.

Fuck it, worst comes to worst, they don’t believe you and the herd comes a-knocking, and you would just have to get the fuck out of there. Try and save as many people as you could.

“Simon, there’s a herd, maybe 40 miles to the south.”

He paused, obviously expecting anything else but that to come out of your mouth. Maybe some apologies or begging, but not the matter of fact statement you spouted.

“How do you know that? There is no way you got 40 miles out and back in a few hours.”

“Technically I got about 35ish out and back, but that’s really not what’s important right now. What is important is what I saw.”

He continued to have a skeptical look on his face, used to having people lie to get out of punishment.

“I’ll explain everything once you deal with the herd. I don’t know if it’ll even head this way, but you need to know. There are too many people here who wouldn’t survive a direct hit, and you have to agree, Sanctuary is a big target.”

Simon stared at you, unsure if what you were saying was the truth. He sighed and pushed you into the cell, closing the door behind you.

You leaned against the door, still hearing Simon breathing outside the door.

“Please Simon, just check it out.”

The sound of his boots retreated down the hall, and you slid down the door, feeling defeated.

You didn’t ascribe to religion. You were fairly certain any god that created the world had checked out years ago, if the current state of affairs was anything to go by, but you prayed that the herd wouldn’t make its way to Sanctuary. And that you weren’t left in the cell for long. If so, the Sanctuary residents would have more than just the walkers to worry about. There would be another monster inside their walls.

A/N So what do you guys think? Obviously I don’t get a lot of hits on this as my one-shots, but I think I’m gonna continue regardless. Either way, hope you enjoy. Leave a comment or just hit that cute little heart to spread the love. :D

#The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #walking dead fanfiction #reader #simon twd #simon the savior #twd saviors #twd negan #twd fanfiction #simon x reader #simon x you #maybe #soon?

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