Bench Trio Oneshots

Orphans 1/?

Before you wonder ''who the fuck is this?'' It's me Coffej15, but i finally changed my username to match my nickname. So I will be known as Smvley_Cat from now on, or just Cat.

So... I'm really sorry I disappeared for so long and I owe you all an explanation. Basically, my great uncle who was 94 years old passed, and I was really crushed because we were pretty close, and he is one of my only relatives left, so it took me a while to recover.

Second, my current foster parents, have been discussing adopting me after the loss of my great uncle, and we had several talks and stuff. So it really took me some time to readjust, plus school is annoying as an orphan because of an awesome thing called bullying.

Thank you for listening to this little rant, now we will move on to the chapter (finally ikr) and this chapter is pretty much inspired by my life lol so enjoy :)

TW: bullying, stupid mf nurses that say you're fine, blood, bandages, mean orphanages, cussing and r-word,  and spiders for u arachnophobes like me.

Tommy's POV:

It was another day at school. I hate school for obvious reasons, everyone likes daily entertainement which somehow always includes me getting beaten up for other's pleasure.

I walked out of 3rd period, and headed to maths. My worst subject actually. So I was pretty unexcited.

*crash*

I looked up l, ignoring the pain in my head, as I saw Brandon's (sorry any brandon's out there) and gasped. His face was red, which could only mean one thing.

He grabbed me by the scruff of the very shabby shirt I was wearing, very generously supplied by the orphanage, and slammed me into a locker.

I groaned as I slid down the side of it, before coughing as his giant ham like fists rained on me like bullets.

The pain I was used to, the humiliation too. What I couldn't stand was Ranboo and Tubbo's horrified faces in the crowd of kids watching the fight.

''TOMMY! LET GO OF HIM YOU BASTARDS!''
Tubbo screamed, frantically trying to loosen the iron grip on his shirt. He was being restrained by several other boys, who didn't want anyone ruining the show.

Ranboo just stood there. He wasn't attempting to get the arms off him, but he was watching with a pained expression. One that clearly said ''i'll make them pay one day.''

But when? We orphans had it rough. It sucked for us, really. But there wasn't anything we could do about it.

As for me, I was still being punched everywhere. My arms, legs, chest, stomach...
And it wasn't stopping...

My vision blurred and I felt myself slipping into unconciousness. But then, something extraordinary happened. I saw Ranboo, upon seeing me like this, jump out of the arms restraining him, karate kicking Brandon, and helping me up. Ouch. That hurts.

I stumbled, but caught myself on the lockers. I saw a dent. Did he really smash me in that hard?

Ranboo glared at Brandon's bleeding nose, then stared at his eyes.
''Next time you mess with us, don't underestimate the quiet kid.''

True. Like any quiet kid, Ranboo was terrifying when he fought.

We skipped Maths, because that could wait. I didn't bother asking to go to the nurse, she wouldn't help anyways.

So instead we went to the cafeteria and sat there, contemplating the meaning of life.

''THERE HE IS!'' I looked back, and nearly fainted. Brandon's Dad, Stan (loona haha no sorry) was walking into the cafeteria.

''That's the retard kid that kicked you, Braddy my boy? That stupid tall ass motherfucker?''

He asked, pointing at Ranboo.

''Yes. And next time your son attacks our friend for no reason, I won't be that nice.'' Ranboo said, glaring.

Pop off, king.

Ranboo stared Stan and Brandon down, that cat stare of his where he somehow made his pupils smaller. Don't even ask how that works.

After school, we headed back to the Children's Home. More like children's hell...

We climbed the gate, and Tubbo helped me limp through the Kitchen door.

First things first, we went upstairs to the bathroom. Ranboo helped me bandage my chest and arms, while Tubbo rubbed ointment onto my back.  I winced, but let him be.

He was better at this than me.

Then we headed to our dorm. Room. Cupboard. Shithole actually.

All it was, was 20 mats on the floor. Yoga mats in fact. Now I wasn't complaining, partly because complaining meant a beating, but also because sleeping on the floor doesn't bother any of us.

However, as I picked a spider off my pillow, we I thought about how we used to live on the streets for the longest time.

We would scavenge together, school could go fuck itself, and we just had fun.

Sure we had the occasional bastard that would attack us in the late evening, but dusk was my favorite time if day.
We would stand together no matter what, instead of being beaten to a pulp every other day, and sleeping in a spider infested shithole.

Well, tomorrow is another day.

A/N: Just for clarifying, the orphanage I was in does NOT beat the kids.
That was just added drama to an angst story. However, bullying was very common and if any of you amazing readers are going through that, please either tell someone or get help. I didn't and it wasn't nice. You're loved!

Also, thank you so much for the follows,
Broken-fnaf-fan  and pure_froggie_vibez

It means the world to me!
Drink water, stay hydrated and you are beautiful, have a cookie.
✌❤❤
Cya next chapter!