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andypantsx3 · 3 years

Text

statistically significant | 3 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

The next Monday found you anxiously nursing a coffee, carefully looking over Bakugou’s latest results.

You’d let the model retrain overnight, just to get a more up-to-date picture of Bakugou’s work, and you’d barely slept a wink while it ran, fretting over your first meeting with him. After waking up earlier than ever, you’d found yourself restless all morning, so you’d made your way into Miruko’s agency well ahead of schedule and had spent your time since sucking down coffees and eyeing Bakugou’s assist and rescue scores warily. They still sat well beneath his kill and capture scorings, and you mentally braced yourself for the near impossibility of getting him to prioritize those aspects of his work.

With Mina’s help, you’d been able to con him into working with you. But just because he’d agreed to your bet, you were not stupid enough to think that meant he was going to make anything easy for you.

Bakugou, for his part, seemed the very antithesis of nervous when he met you in the surveillance room. He barged into your makeshift office mid-morning, looking well-rested if annoyed. The door banged loudly off the opposite wall and rebounded closed with a slam that rattled the AV equipment.

“Let’s get this over with,” Bakugou growled, throwing himself down in the seat opposite you. He was dressed in dark training clothes--simple athletic fabrics that suggested that he meant to book it to a training room the second he was done with you. His whole manner suggested you should keep things short.

You sat frozen, fingers paused over your laptop keys. “...Good morning to you too.”

He looked at you incredulously, blonde eyebrows raising. “I didn’t fucking come here for small talk. Get on with it, nerd.”

You suppressed a twitch of irritation, looking away from him where he sat in an agitated pile of strong lines and tense muscle. God you hoped this was all going to be worth it, at the end of things.

You sighed and clicked into the model results screen, knowing it was only going to work him into a lather if you pressed him on social niceties. “Okay, so I did some analysis--”

“Big fucking surprise.”

“--and,” you continued loudly, “as you well know, you need to adjust certain priorities on the field.”

A scoff issued from his direction. “I don’t need to adjust shit.”

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. He was literally here to discuss adjusting shit. What was the point of him being so defensive?

You eyed him speculatively, taking in the oppositional slant to his broad shoulders, the thin slash of his mouth as he regarded you irritably. Your observations from last week floated to the forefront of your mind, that this was a man who would not easily do anything he didn’t want to do. And it was clear he did not actually want to do this--he had only been baited into it by the grace of his meddling, pink-haired friend.

You mentally resolved to play as nice as you possibly could, to minimize the amount of fussing from his side of things.

“As I think I explained last year,” you began carefully, “the model I train relies on a set of weights, and you’re ranked on that. Your work is divided up into categories: public perception, kills, captures, property damage, rescues, and now assists. Some of those categories are weighted more heavily than others, so if you do well in them, you’ll outperform your peers in the rankings who do just as well in other categories.”

Blood red eyes darted up to a monitor as you projected your laptop screen onto it, the model results translated into neatly organized and color-coded graphs.

“You are unmatched in kills, fairly unmatched in captures as well, and you’ve kept property damage to a surprising minimum in the last few years considering your quirk. You’re also wildly popular, particularly with young people, according to public polls.”

You glossed over the fact that his appearance probably had a lot to do with it, considering the tidal wave of interest from the female bracket of respondents. The fact especially did not bear thinking about when he was alone in a tiny office with you, bare arms and the hard planes of his chest displayed prominently in his training gear.

“Just fucking---out with it,” Bakugou demanded, turning to glare at you again. “I don’t have all damn day.”

The tiniest hint of smoke and sweetness hit your nose as he leaned closer, and you pushed away from him, baring your palms in the universal gesture for peace.

“Okay, okay. So you’re good at those things, but your rescue scores need work, and your assist score puts you in the top ten least cooperative heroes in the entire industry,” you explained, watching as a muscle in his jaw jumped in obvious irritation. “Rescues are the highest weighted category in the rankings model, and assists are the third highest. So no matter how good you are in other areas, you will not surpass anyone who performs well in these categories.”

Bakugou made an annoyed sound, his brows drawing together. “Quit fucking talking to me like I’m a baby. I fucking know--tell me exactly what your fucking nerd-ass model needs me to do and I’ll fucking do it.”

You breathed out of your nose very slowly, quelling the rising tide of annoyance within you. Everything out of his mouth was so abrupt and demanding.

Software engineers, picture the software engineers.

“Okay so I ran deeper analyses on those two categories and compared your movements with generalized results from the top ten heroes from each category,” you continued.

“The thing that stood out in terms of rescues, is that you were almost twice as fast as other heroes to leap into combat with a villain. This means you’re spending less time assessing the situation than other heroes, and therefore spending less time processing victims. So if I had to make a recommendation here, it’s that you should actively look for civilians before jumping into a fight. You might still find that the smarter thing to do is leap into the fight instead of evacuating them, but you at least need to slow down before you do.”

The crease between his brows erased itself and he leaned back in his chair, tension bleeding out of him somewhat, which was--unexpected. You’d have thought he’d get more defensive as you explained his shortcomings to him.

“Fine,” he said shortly. “What else?”

You pulled up two videos and projected them side by side, bright little clusters of dots collected over the location of each hero. “For assists, it looks like when you’re in range of other heroes, you actually do help, at least a little. I only found an issue when I generalized results from the top ten in this category and ran calculations about their movements in comparison to yours.”

You let the videos play, watching Bakugou’s eyes track the movements with unblinking precision. He said nothing as you let the loop repeat, the tense lines of his body inexplicably unravelling even further with each loop. He looked as close to relaxed as you had ever seen him.

After a few loops, he finally let out a scoff. “Those needy fucks stick closer to other heroes,” he concluded gruffly. “That’s what the dots are tracking.”

You nodded. “On average, you move three times farther away from other heroes on scene than the top ten heroes do. So you’re less likely to be in range to help.”

He rolled a powerful shoulder, unwittingly drawing your eyes straight to it. You gave your leg an annoyed pinch under the table, forcing your gaze back up to his face once you realized what you were doing.

“So I have to look for weaklings and stay closer to these b-list fucking clowns, that’s what you’re telling me?” he prompted, running a hand through his mess of blonde hair. It looked unexpectedly soft under his fingers.

You drew your eyes away from him again, focusing hard on the relief you were feeling that he seemed to be processing and internalizing your feedback. “Yeah, you need to assist civilians and stay in range of your team. Those are the only areas in which you really need help.”

There was a sharp crackle, and tense movement caught in the corner of your eye. You turned to find that all of Bakugou’s unease had suddenly returned, a snarl riding his mouth.

“Help?” he demanded. That scent of smoke and sugar suddenly pressed in on you again, sharp and dangerously hot.

You blinked at him in confusion. “...Uh, yeah?”

His gaze darkened and he leaned over the table between the two of you, a calloused hand catching the collar of your shirt to yank you towards him. The corner of the table dug into your ribs, and his fingers were hot where they brushed the skin under your collar.

“I don’t fucking need help,” he spat, crimson eyes boring into your face like a drill. Your hands came up to grab his, trying to untwist it from your shirt, but his fingers only tightened, unyielding.

“What--? Yes you do?” you garbled, fingers scrabbling over his. “What do you--?”

He pulled you further across the table, so that his face was scant inches from your own.

“Fuck you if you think I need anything from you,” he growled in a low tone, voice almost dangerously soft. Your blood iced over in your veins, limbs freezing. He stared at you for a long, heavy moment.

Then, in the next second, you were being shoved backwards into your chair, and then Bakugou was gone, door slamming behind him with a force that shook the walls.

You stared after him in shock, mouth gaping open. He had been fine up until a couple of seconds ago, even seeming to relax under your analysis. But then his temper had suddenly flared for no fucking reason.

What….what the fuck was wrong with him?

You spent the rest of the morning in a state of restless agitation.

What the literal fuck was wrong with Bakugou? Why had he just stormed out like that? What had flipped the switch for him in the space of mere seconds?

You replayed the conversation in your head nonstop all through your next few meetings and over your lunch break, where you furiously wolfed down a bento without tasting any of it. Your frustration carried you all the way into the afternoon, when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through your door.

You looked up into Pinky’s dark eyes and brilliant smile.

“Y/N!” she chirped happily, closing the door behind her and sprawling into the seat across from you.

You returned her friendly smile. “Ashido-san,” you greeted her politely.

She laughed and waved a rosy hand, leaning forward over the table. “I would never ask stats girl to be formal with me. Call me Mina!”

You huffed an embarrassed laugh. That was sweet, but the nickname stats girl needed to die a brisk and fiery death.

“Mina, then,” you amended, pulling up her model results on your laptop, trying to tamp down on your embarrassment. She was almost overwhelmingly friendly.

Her dark eyes flickered over you curiously and a cautious smile played about her mouth. “Heard it didn’t go well with Katsuki this morning.”

You looked up at her in surprise. “He told you?”

She laughed. “No, I just saw him annihilating a training room. I know him well enough to know when he’s throwing a tantrum.”

An awkward, hot sense of shame welled up within you at the thought that you’d pushed him to that, though you didn’t know how. You got the sense that you’d taken one step forward but two steps back. So much for your promotion.

“Uh yeah, he kind of...stormed out? He’d been listening, actually, and I thought things were going weirdly well. The bet was a good idea, so thank you,” you said. “I just…somehow I screwed it up, I think.”

Mina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, splaying out flat in her seat. “God, you know what? I’m just so tired of my best friends being guys. They’re so dramatic and so fussy about their tough guy image. And take themselves so seriously, for no reason, even fucking Denki. I have sat every single one of them down and forced them into make up so it’s absolutely baffling to me that they still stomp around like they’re so serious and so tortured.”

Your mouth dropped open as what she’d just said caught up with you. Take themselves seriously...when she’d forced them into make up? “No. Even…?”

Mina smirked. “Oh yeah, even Katsuki. No idea why he thinks he’s such a tough guy when all it takes is a couple of tears and boom, he’s working a smokey eye and tiny little pigtails.”

You choked on a laugh, trying to dispel the horrifying image in your mind of Bakugou in mascara and lipstick. The idea of him in make up was somehow even more intimidating than his usual appearance. You did not want to know more.

It certainly did beg the question, however, why he was such a difficult jerk if it was that easy to get him to acquiesce to something that horrifying. Maybe the answer lay in Mina’s powers of manipulation. She’d known to make the bet with him, after all. And if she knew how to get him into eyeliner and lipstick, then she might know how to get him to agree to let you help him.

“Wow,” you murmured. “That’s...terrifying. How did you even convince him though? I can’t get him to spend more than two seconds around me without blowing his top like a volcano.”

Mina grinned conspiratorially, leaning over the table. “You just have to know how to work him. Trust me, you might have good numbers sense, but I have pretty good people sense. Katsuki is all smoke and fire until you dig underneath.”

You almost did not want to know what was underneath. “That’s--but he’s so volatile. I can’t predict any of it.”

Mina's grin widened. “Actually, it’s pretty straightforward. He’s actually super in control all of the time, even when it seems like he’s lost it. He’s only really sensitive about one thing.”

“For example,” she leaned forward, her smile morphing into something dark and leery. “I heard he burned through your dress at the Hero Awards.”

You put your face in your palm. “Yes. This is what I’m talking about--I thought he was gonna fry me to a crisp.”

Mina snorted, raking a hand through her mess of curls. “Maybe I only see it because my acid is similar--but it’s pretty hard to only burn through a tiny strip of fabric and not touch anything underneath, even if you’re not out of your mind with anger. It requires some precise control. Wouldn’t you say?”

You froze in your seat, staring at her. Implications began to creep over you like a dark shroud. “What?”

She grinned. “He didn’t touch you, right? Only the dress?”

You gaped at her. “Yeah--only the dress.”

She cut her dark eyes to you, looking like she was trying to suppress a laugh. “Very interesting that he managed to sear straight through your dress, then, without burning you. One might think he did it on purpose.”

You floundered. “But I--but he--! I told him to do better and he got all worked up and intense!”

Mina laughed out loud. “I bet he did. Katsuki’s a total control freak but he loves a challenge. That’s why he took your bet, and that’s why your meeting didn’t go as poorly as you thought it might at first, and that’s why he was so fixated on you after the Awards.”

Your face heated. “Don’t put it like that.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know how you feel about him, but I can guarantee he’s very interested in you. He loves girls who don’t take any of his shit. Why do you think he signed with Miruko? It’s actually kinda gross,” she made a face.

Your face was on fire. A hot wave of embarrassment washed through you and you resisted the urge to dive under the table and hide. This is not the turn you thought the conversation would be taking.

“Uh, so,” you managed, fingers fluttering. “So--um, why did he freak out earlier then? I did tell him everything he was doing wrong. But then he lost it, I think when I told him I would help.”

Mina’s grin settled back into place. “He’s so fucking predictable. He hates being looked down on, and the word help implies that you think he’s weak enough to need it. I’ll bet you anything that’s why he totally flipped.”

You considered this. “But I didn’t mean it like that--”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s got a very specific way of looking at things. He’s way better than he used to be but that’s the one thing he’s still sensitive about.”

You mulled that over. It did explain, then, why he’d reacted so poorly when he’d seemed to be fine with your critique. “Does he really need to be seen as strong that badly?”

Mina picked idly at the fluff on her costume’s jacket, thin fingers tangling in the white strands. “He has insane expectations for himself, and he’s only comfortable when everyone else has those too. It’s like if you think he can’t live up to those standards, that you don’t truly see him.”

So that was it. The mystery of Bakugou’s volatile nature explained--a weirdly deep-seated inferiority complex wrapped up in layers of crankiness and--you blushed--an interest in girls who gave him shit. You quickly buried any considerations on his romantic inclinations, and focused on the inferiority complex.

Whether you’d intended to or not, this morning you had managed to convey to him that you thought he was incapable, and not in a way that personally challenged him like the bet had, or your demand he do better at the Hero Awards. It was so ridiculous, you thought, but then so was he. And if you wanted to make any progress on your promotion, then you were gonna have to suck it up and work within those constraints.

You sighed. You owed him an explanation, maybe even an apology.

Mina regarded you approvingly from across the table. You also owed her a drink. Maybe several.

“Got it,” you acknowledged, clicking back into your model results and pulling up her ranking analyses. “And thank you--I owe you a ton. Now let’s get to what we came here to do which is to talk about how you can kick even more ass.”

Mina grinned, leaning forward in delight. “You’re welcome. And hell yeah, this conversation was so not passing the Bechdel test.”

You snorted, suppressing a wild smile. Oh, you really liked her.

You would apologize and get things back on track with Bakugou. And once Bakugou netted you your promotion, you were gonna turn back and rocket Mina up the rankings to give him a run for his money.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #tw threats #tw gendered violence

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galaxina-the-pyro · 3 years

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How would you improve the episode AYA?

...wait...you’re asking me?

I...I didn’t expect this...

The thing is is that I don’t think I could possibly come up with ideas for this better than, say, @authenticcadence18 or @springsfordays because their ideas are just too good (seriously, check them out, they have the literal best ideas for a rewrite of AYA, holy crap).

But if I were to rewrite it...hm...let’s make a checklist for stuff about AYA that just miffed me:

1. Plot B is fine. Plot B was probably the best part of AYA - Doof’s dilemma made sense for his character (and is hilarious), tied in with the name of the episode, and involved fun little shenanigans. My only gripe is that they didn’t go MONDO insane with it at the end, and said ending felt really abrupt.

(I also wish that, somehow, even Doof was involved with that “everyone knew” bit, but we’re gonna be scrapping that joke for this story - that joke is FUNNY, but it’s also degrading to Phineas, and is sorta a nice way of saying “yeah, you’re stupid for not noticing her feelings even though she’s not entitled to them - you’re the problem. It’s not like the episode is trying to hint at you two having switched roles, no, you’re the only one who was being oblivious and stupid.”)

2. We cut out Plot C entirely. Everyone trying to get Phineas and Isabella together was just...ugh. Why? And they had the audacity to compare what they were doing to all the AMAZING things they did when they were younger, like, guys - you set up some tables, decorations, and cooked them what I can assume to be a run-of-the-mill restaurant dinner - that has NOTHING on a rollercoaster through downtown. And their applause at that sweet but ultimately lackluster confession? Hurt. So much. Now that I think about it, it felt condescending, it unintentionally emphasized HOW uninspired this confession (as much as I love it) was, and it felt like they were taking credit for something they didn’t do.

And if we’re NOT gonna cut out Plot C...have Plot C be about FERB? Leaving for COLLEGE? Out of COUNTRY? Cuz I have a hard time believing that Phineas and Ferb are just OKAY with separating at such a long distance - heck, in “Candace Gets Busted”, FERB is the one who assumes that one day he and his brother are gonna own their own place together. It should at least be BROUGHT UP, don’t you think? (I’m conflicted on whether or not I’d keep Montessa in the ring or at least SHOW US how Ferbnessa happened, because I think what’s weirding people out is that they’re assuming that Vanessa literally waited for Ferb to turn 18 to start dating him - when I think it’s more likely that they kinda JUST started dating during the beginning of Summer? But I think stuff like that really SHOULD be explained because even though I don’t think it’s that weird, I understand why OTHER PEOPLE wouldn’t like the idea)

3. I kinda feel like this should have had more songs? I dunno why, I feel like this all could have been improved if we got a fullblown musical out of this (and...this may be me wanting a “What Might Have Been” reprise, lol) - like, make fun of HSM or something, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t have.

4. I kinda wanted to see more of the “where are they now”. Like, Jeremy, Stacey, Little Suzie Johnson, even that one couple with the lady who’s always like “what did you think, an anniversary dinner was just going to fall from the sky?” - I like stuff like that, it’s so much fun to think about. Also...I legit have so much anxiety over Perry never interacting with him owners ONCE in that episode, and even more anxiety over Pinky never making an appearance at all. Heck, if there was a good time to show us what the HECK happened to Django, now would be a great time.

5. I would have given the episode a unique intro, ala “Night of the Living Pharmacists” and “Last Day of Summer” - like, AYA is as much of a status quo shifter as those two episodes, why was it given the “Phineas and Ferb Get Busted” treatment?

6. Here’s a brilliant thought - NO ONE tells Phineas about Isabella’s crush? How about instead Phineas goes and wants to check in on her, because he really misses her and doesn’t understand why they don’t talk anymore (and he’s tried before, and they’ve nearly had conversations, but Isabella’s just too busy) - did he do something wrong? Is Isabella just too busy now? He needs to know. That should have been his priority, none of this “FrIeNd ZoNe” nonsense.

7. I would have made this into a near movie-length special. With all the topics that this episode brought up, particularly the whole “manipulating the situation” thing, I feel like a longer episode would have given them more time to talk about how stuff like that is...not okay.

[READ THE ACTUAL REWRITE OF THE EPISODE (well, my take at least) UNDER THE CUT!]

Okay, with those out of the way, how I would have written Phinabella the Movie...I mean...Act Your Age (I warn you, it’s not gonna be as good as @authenticcadence18′s or @springsfordays‘s ideas, so if you want quality stuff and not just mushy fanfiction fodder I’d check their stuff out):

I would have sorta made this entire thing take place during the “What Might Have Been” song - what that means is that it’s a collage of memories. How Isabella and Phineas met, how Isabella first got her “crush” (if you can really call it that, girl was full out in love lol), them building stuff with the gang during their canon ages, them going into highschool, Isabella ultimately choosing to give up her crush to maintain her friendship with Phineas (because her choosing to not be as close to Phineas because of a crush isn’t an option), Isabella’s first boyfriend (which probably’s gonna hurt a lot of fans, cuz I envision that to NOT be Phineas; but it’s Phinabella endgame, so relax); the episode just centers on the gang (mainly Isabella since it’s from her perspective) growing up.

Like, yes, all of the memories are gonna be Phinabella centered, but we gotta have SOME side-stories and junk, like maybe how Baljeet gets together with Ginger (and...how they break up...please don’t kill me), what ultimately leads Ferb to want to go back to England for studies (maybe it’s him wanting to be his own person and not wanting people to think he and his brother are just “a pair”), Buford...uh...something with Buford definitely, because I love him and he deserves it. Heck, maybe even the Fireside Girls can have their own arc with a graduation ceremony for their ranks (...what? I’m not linking stuff to the best fanfic ever, noooooo...why would-why would I do that?).

And maybe in this case Plot B SHOULD be different - maybe it should focus on how Doofenshmirtz first got to America, how he first met Charlene, what exactly led him to being evil in the first place, all that good stuff. Though, ultimately, that might be a little angsty - maybe there’s a reason why we don’t see exactly HOW Doof and Charlene divorced, because that could very well be the saddest scene ever, and it’s hard to put that kinda comedic spin on something so tragic (I mean, obviously there are comedies CENTERED on divorce, but like...they always SKIP the divorce part from what I’ve seen). Not to mention that this is a kid’s show, so...I doubt they’d actually show HOW it happened. This is just my thoughts. X’D

Back to the Phinabella.

Phineas and Isabella would have their confession during THIS part of the special rather than the very end (so, like...they’re still in highschool, and Isabella’s already broken up with that other dude in the story, and maybe Phineas had a girlfriend he just wasn’t happy with) - Phineas tries to do something big for Isabella, but it ultimately falls through because of Perry’s current nemesis (we never see who that is, lol), so he settles for something simple (at first he’s scared about it not “being enough” for someone like Isabella, but Ferb’s able to slap that nonsense out of him pretty quickly). He and Isabella spend the ENTIRE DAY together alone, leading to Phineas eventually singing a song he wrote for her to her, and the two have a cute little duet as a result (that has the opposite energy of “What Might Have Been”, so it’s important that somewhere in this episode that “What Might Have Been” is still a thing, it just doesn’t involve Phineas being aware of Isabella’s feelings, and it doesn’t involve Isabella trying to leave somewhere without saying goodbye, this would be more about Isabella, after trying to get over her crush, realizing that she still LIKES Phineas that way). They almost kiss, but they’re ultimately interrupted by Buford being Buford or something, but it implies that Phineas and Isabella are now a couple onwards from here.

Eventually it leads to a small party in the middle of Summer with the gang, with them playing some games and talking about how by the end of Summer, they won’t be seeing each other as much anymore because of college and stuff. They all remanence about the simple times - with Isabella eventually leaving (saying it’s because she needs to check on something, but really it’s because she’s sad that things are ending so quickly and she’s gonna miss everyone especially Phineas), and Phineas going after her to see if she’s alright (he’s oblivious, but he’s always been able to tell if she’s sad for the most part, save for maybe a few instances - but he’s older now, so he’s probably better at telling).

The two go for a stroll outside, and discuss the changes and stuff, how he and Isabella are ultimately going to have to work on a long-distance relationship and how Phineas is going to miss Ferb when he leaves the country, and how he’s gonna miss Isabella. And then they both realize that everything is gonna be okay, because they’ve literally dealt with worse situations and came out stronger for it - Isabella nor Phineas have any doubts in their minds that their relationship with each other or anyone else is going to sever just because of long distance.

Time moves onward, and there are a lot of changes (mainly talking about couples and other stuff - if it were me, there’d be endgame Buford/Gretchen and Ferb/Ginger of all people, and of course Candace and Jeremy would be married by this time). Phineas and Isabella are about to go into their last year of college, and decide to spend one more day together before they, once again, go their separate ways. The gang surprises Isabella by having made an ACTUALLY GOOD AND CREATIVE BACKYARD DINNER for the two per Phineas’ planning (the idea wasn’t bad, the execution was just lame imo), and long story short, Phineas proposes to Isabella. She obviously accepts, and everyone cheers for them as Isabella inner monologues about how change can be scary but it’s okay some mushy stuff about loved ones being there for you when you need them or something.

And finally, we cut to many years later, with Isabella as an adult now, looking out at the backyard of her current home, drinking some tea - this whole movie/special has taken place in this Isabella’s memories (if that makes sense), as she thinks on how she got there. The story ends with a child (we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl) calling to her and calling her “mom”, and Isabella leaving to check on her kid.

And...that’s how I would have written “Act Your Age”. Again, I recommend this and this over my idea (because again, their takes on this episode are perfect, I don’t think anyone can top them), but if you like it then great. This was still fun to write out and stuff, and I hope you enjoyed it regardless. ^^;

#phineas and ferb #pnf #act your age #phinabella #act your age rant #episode rewrite #galaxina rants #not as good of a rewrite as others but i think it's decent at the very least #but i dunno #what do ya'll think #lol

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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years

Text

The Origins (Chapter 4)

Summary: Before the Renegades put an end to the Age of Anarchy, they were six kids trying to survive day by day in a city ruled by chaos and desolation. Is there a space for hope and kindness somewhere in Gatlon City? Maybe.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123756/chapters/62248708

Translating it’s so exhausting. Especially when you have that bitch (Grammarly) constantly telling you “oh ur wrong” and you ask “where?” and the bitch responds “oh im not gonna tell you u r not premium”. So fuck it. Here it is. This was supposed to be Evander’s chapter, but I decided give this one to Tamaya instead, just for the fun. He can wait, he’s fine.

As you can see, I started to title my chapters. I already did it on AO3, but not on tumblr. The other three posts have their titles too. If you guess what song are the titles from, you get a cookie (?

I want to start doing a tag list but I don’t know who to tag. So if you want in, just tell me. I’m too shy to tag you if you don’t tell me to do it because I feel like I’m bothering you.

Also, trigger warning for domestic violence. I tried to keep it as low as possible and it’s a small scene, but I understand if there are people who still can’t handle it, and I’m no one to judge. I will take TW more seriously from now on. If you think I should tag any other of my work, feel free to DM me or send me an ask, even if it’s anonymus. Seriously, feel free to correct me. I’m a big girl, I can handle it;)

Running away from the world that we designed

Age of Anarchy

Year 8

Tamaya had gone three weeks without human contact. Her parents did not talk to her and she did not talk to her parents. Her mother sent the only remaining servant to bring her food twice a day. Every time he entered the room, Tamaya turned around to avoid making eye contact, because if she did, she would start crying. No one else was going to see her cry ever again.

It all started when Tamaya was flying in her room when her father came in without knocking first. The man was paralyzed and gaped, at the same time that Tamaya lost her concentration and plummeted onto her bed.

Then, her father started yelling at her. Marcus Rae had never been known to be particularly friendly in the way he spoke to other people. She had never heard that man say "thank you" or "please." However, Tamaya had not seen him scream either. At least, not at her. And that was enough to make her cry.

Not only because she was scared, but also because she felt dumb. She had managed to hide her abilities for five years and she had been caught in such a stupid way. Tamaya believed she was smarter, but she was not.

Her father took her by the arm and lifted her from the bed with such abruptness that Tamaya accidentally knocked over a porcelain figure that was resting on her nightstand. His shouting was already so unbearable that she could only make out a few words.

Freak. Bounder. Idiot.

Her mother ran into the room and asked what was going on.

“Your daughter can fly!" yelled Marcus. "How the fuck did she learn to do it!?”

And so it went on. Her father kept shaking her like she was a rag doll, while the woman begged her husband to calm down, with a trembling voice full of terror.

But he wouldn't stop. Nothing made him stop.

Freak. Bounder. Idiot.

“Please control yourself!” her mother cried.

In response, her father slapped her on the floor.

"ANSWER MY QUESTION, MELISSA!”

Freak. Bounder. Idiot.

Melissa lay there, sobbing and holding her cheek. Seeing that his wife was not going to answer him in any way, his father refocused his attention on her. He turned her around and held her tightly by the arms. Then he forced her to walk to the wall and stamped her face against it. With one hand she crushed the back of Tamaya's neck and with the other, he scratched his chin.

Freak. Bounder. Idiot.

Before she could react, her father tugged on one of her wings, as if he was going to pluck it apart. Tamaya screamed and broke down in tears again.

Freak. Bounder. Idiot.

Did he hate her that much? Was Tamaya that disgusting to him?

Freak. Bounder. Idiot.

How could someone do that to their daughter? How ruthless do you have to be?

Was she a monster? Was his father a monster?

Were the two of them monsters?

An electric current ran through her body. Adrenaline seized her veins, giving her the strength to push her father away from her and scream:

“Enough!”

With a wave of her hand, Tamaya fired a bolt of lightning at one of her bookshelves, setting it fire. Her mother reacted and ran to the kitchen for a bucket of water to put the fire out. Her father was not even able to move, nor did Tamaya. She was not concerned about the accident she had caused. Her gaze was fixed on Marcus, and her contempt for him was stronger than any pain and fear she had left.

She wiped one last tear that ran down her cheek.

She may be a freak and she may be a bounder. But she made a promise to herself that she would never be an idiot again.

Melissa quickly put out the fire. They were very lucky that it did not spread to the rest of the room. After the initial impact, her parents stared at her as if they didn't know her. Their eyes seemed to say: “How is it that such a dangerous and violent creature our daughter?”

It is because you are creatures as dangerous and violent as me.

Now it was Saturday night. Tamaya was sitting on the carpet, surrounded by her dolls. When Georgia asked why she didn't get rid of them, she always blamed her mother, saying she would be very upset if Tamaya threw away such expensive toys.

However, Tamaya did not throw them away because, unlike Georgia, she did keep playing with her dolls. She had conversations with them, brushed their hair, and if her mother managed to get yarn, she would embroider their skirts with details of flowers or birds. In winter, she had even gone as far as to make sweaters for them.

It was a childish hobby for a seventeen-year-old girl, but it was also the only thing that kept her sane.

Knock. Knock.

Tamaya looked up at the light catcher. She flew to see who it was.

Georgia.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Surprise!”

“Lower your voice,” she scolded her. “My parents could hear you.”

Georgia put a fake padlock over her mouth and made a pleading gesture as she pointed to the latch on the catch. Tamaya rolled her eyes and let her in.

“My mom doesn't know I'm here, but she told me everything,” Georgia explained sitting on the bed. “Which wing was it?”

“This one,” she replied pointing to her right wing, “but it's nothing. It practically healed itself.”

Georgia looked at the circle of dolls on the carpet, stifling a giggle.

“What party are you having?” she asked teasingly.

Tamaya was silent. Georgia realized that her friend was in no mood for jokes and looked down, with a serious expression on her face.

“My mom also told me about your other power,” Georgia whispered.

The blood went to her feet.

“What power?”

“The lighting thing.”

Then, silence. That reunion was nothing like Tamaya expected. She believed Georgia was going to have hundreds of questions and was not going to stop talking. Georgia always had a lot of things to say to her. Most of the time, she did not talk about important issues. It was always about discussions with her mother, gossips going around her school, or about a new book that she had found and that she recommended.

Tamaya was glad Georgia knew how to start conversations. She had no idea.

How her mother had been able to talk about Tamaya's powers with Mrs. Rawle was a mystery to her. Melissa Rae was very concerned with what other people would think of her, something that had never made sense to Tamaya. Was there someone left in that damn city who kept worrying about something as stupid as status?

“Is it true that you almost hit your dad with one? With lighting?”

Tamaya did not want to lie to Georgia. Lying was not her thing. However, she wasn't quite sure about what to tell her exactly. Should it be something like “Yes, I did it, so what?” or something less violent? Something between the lines of: “Yes ... and I regret it.”

The thing was, Tamaya had no regrets. She had a lot of time to think about it those past few days and she could never force herself to feel a single shred of regret for her actions. Not even when her mom begged her to apologize to her dad. She just couldn't.

However, it was not until that moment that she realized she wasn't proud of it either. If it had been for her, Georgia would never have known about that little detail of the fight and her powers.

Tamaya already knew that she could control lightning and storms. She had discovered it relatively recently when she was flying and accidentally shot lightning at the ground. It was small and just left a black stain on the fine wood flooring, nothing a rug couldn't hide.

But lighting should not be near people, and Tamaya knew it.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Tamaya turned to see her. “Pardon me?”

Georgia was frowning and arms crossed. There was reproach in each of the words that came out of her mouth.

“Why didn't you tell me you had more powers?” she asked. “Why didn't you trust me? I thought we were friends.”

“Woah, wait, Georgia,” she interrupted her. “How exactly is this about you?”

“Friends are supposed to talk to each other,” Georgia said. “I always tell you everything that happens to me and you know every last detail about my life. Why don't you tell me what's wrong with you? How many other things do you hide from me? Is our friendship based on lies? Is your name even Tamaya?”

Tamaya was so shocked by Georgia's reaction, she thought she was hallucinating. She noticed each gesture her friend's face made and each movement of her eyes. And she wasn't kidding. Tamaya was not hallucinating. Georgia was seriously mad at her.

“Really?” she asked her. “After everything that's happened to me, somehow I'm the bad guy to you?”

“Yes.”

The audacity of this bitch.

“How the hell can you be so self-centered, Georgia?” she asked with flushed cheeks. “Do you think this is because I didn't trust you? Did you ever stop to think about how I felt? Doesn't it occur to you that the reason I hid it from you is that I wanted to protect you?”

“Protect me?” Georgia laughed. “Don't be ridiculous, what would you be protecting me from?”

“From myself!”

And Georgia laughed again.

“I was protecting you from myself!” Tamaya insisted. “Stop laughing!”

But she ignored her. Georgia kept on laughing as if it was the funniest joke she had ever heard. It was clear as day that Georgia didn’t care anymore if the whole neighborhood heard her. She didn’t care if they got into trouble.

And she does not care about you, Tamaya.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

No, no one else was going to see her cry ever again. Not even Georgia.

Without thinking, Tamaya lunged for her friend. She grabbed the collar of her blouse, lifted her ten feet above the ground, and stamped her against the wall. She could feel the electricity on her fingertips, and she was sure Georgia felt it too.

She was no longer laughing.

“Look me in the eyes, Georgia,” she whispered. “Look me in the eyes!”

“I'm doing it,” she replied quietly.

“What do you see?”

“That you have beautiful eyes.”

Tamaya held her tighter. “Aren't you afraid of me? Aren't you afraid of monsters?”

Tears began to flow from Georgia's dark eyes. She put a hand to her mouth and a faint smile of pity appeared on her lips.

“Oh, Tamaya. You are not a monster.”

She had no qualms with people seeing her cry. How pathetic.

She released her.

“Yes I am,” she hissed.

Georgia fell to her feet.

“No, people have convinced you that you are,” she exclaimed, approaching her. “That's what they always say about all of us.”

She reached out to take her hand. Tamaya rose a few inches to not be within her reach. Georgia did not insist.

“And the worst thing is that,” she continued saying, “there are some people who believe them and become monsters. You know, like a certain person who starts with Ace and ends with Anarchy.”

Oh. Him.

“You know, I think he hates himself. A person who loves themselves would never do the things he does.”

“I don't blame him.”

Georgia pursed her lips. “Why not?”

“If you spend your entire life calling someone a monster, what do you expect them to become?”

Silence appeared again. For a second, Tamaya was pleased with herself for making Georgia run out of arguments.

But Georgia was never run out of arguments.

“That still doesn't excuse it,” Georgia replied. “You are constantly calling yourself a monster inside your head, and you had not become one.”

Tamaya looked at the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her.

“Would you still be my friend if I were a monster?”

“Uh, I don't know,” Georgia shrugged. “But I don't have to worry about it. You will never become a monster.”

“How are you so sure?” she asked defiantly.

“Because you are too strong to become one.”

She wished she could believe her.

No, Tamaya wasn't strong. That room was driving her crazy. She heard no other voice than her own, telling her the most horrible things she could hear every day. The world had never called her a monster because Tamaya's world were those four walls. Those four walls too similar to—

Oh, God.

Too similar to a monster's cage.

“I have to go,” Tamaya blurted out.

“Go?” Georgia asked in dismay. “But where?"

“I don’t know, but I have to go. Right now.”

Georgia asked no questions when she was helping Tamaya find a backpack, or when she packed Molly away before she began to look for clothes. She didn't even ask questions when Tamaya didn't dare go through the skylight, because she thought she heard her parents asking her not to leave.

However, when she turned around, she realized that no one was there.

She came out.

The air in the outside world smelled like gasoline and rain. The higher she flew, the smaller her house looked. Her neighborhood was the only point of light in that dull city. The buildings looked abandoned and lonely even from that distance.

It was horrible. But it was the world. A new world.

Tamaya allowed herself to laugh. She was so happy that she even dared to flip in the air.

Then, she realized that Georgia was not flying next to her. She was standing on the ceiling of her room, looking at her with teary eyes.

A crazy idea came to her mind.

“You come?” she asked her.

Georgia shook her head. She reached into her pants pockets and pulled out a torn locket. Tamaya reached out to look at it better. It had a missing part, was slightly rusty, and was not made of real gold, but the chain and clasp were intact.

“I found it in the market,” she told her, “with a lady who sold fish.”

“Why would a fisherwoman be selling lockets?” Tamaya asked raising an eyebrow.

“I do not know. It was from her husband, according to her,” Georgia explained. “But now it’s yours."

Tamaya had not worn any jewelry for a long time.

“It looks tragic,” she said.

“It combines with the city,” Georgia replied. Tamaya put on the locket. “Would you forgive me?” she asked. “I was selfish and I shouldn't have blamed you for not telling me. You had your reasons for keeping the secret. I understand if you don't want to talk to me—”

“Stop,” Tamaya ordered. “I'll come looking for you in a couple of days,” she assured her. “If you haven't heard from me by then, I'm dead.”

Her friend shuddered. She didn't know if from the cold or the fear.

“Any advice for the outside world?”

Georgia approached her with a smile and held her hand. “When in doubt, fly.”

Tamaya looked towards the horizon. The doubts did not take long to arise.

“Fine.”

Then, Tamaya flew. And she didn't look back.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #fanfic #the origins #tamaya rae #georgia rawles #renegades trilogy #ao3

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