#angrist

[polutrope]

“Do you know what the songs say, of how he removed the jewel from Morgoth’s crown?”

Curufin startles, turns. The last words Maglor spoke directly to him had been curses cried in anger, condemning him for Felagund’s fate. Curufin had borne it coolly while Maedhros held him off from further violence. 

“How?” asks Curufin, affecting ambivalence.

“With your knife,” Maglor supplies.

“What of it?” 

Maglor huffs: scornful, knowing. “Do you not think it strange, that you possessed this thing so long? This blade that so easily claimed a Silmaril?”

Ah — what poetic logic, Curufin thinks, and returns to his work.

[ardafanonarch]

Hi omg I love this thank you for doing it! I have seen a lot about what named sword did or didn't or might have belonged to whom - do we actually know the names of any First Age swords and who wielded them? (other than Eol's cursed pair).

Thank you!

[Anon, this one got so long that I have divided it into 3 parts so people can navigate more easily to weapons that most interest them. Thanks so much for sending this ask, I went down many rabbit holes researching and learned some new things myself.]

The Iron Gang: Anglachel-Gurthang, Anguirel, Angrist

Swords of the First Age, Part 1 of 3

Anglachel

Meaning: Uncertain. Possibly a combination of ang “iron”, lach “flame” and êl “star” (Eldamo). Sindarin.

Maker: Eöl

Owned/wielded by: Eöl, Thingol, Beleg, (Gwindor), Túrin

Notable for: forged from meteoritic iron; given as fee to Thingol for leave to dwell in Nan Elmoth; slaying Beleg

Fate: Reforged in Nargothrond as Gurthang

Then Beleg chose Anglachel; and that was a sword of great worth, and it was so named because it was made of iron that fell from heaven as a blazing star; it would cleave all earth-delved iron. One other sword only in Middle-earth was like to it. That sword does not enter into this tale, though it was made of the same ore by the same smith; and that smith was Eöl the Dark Elf, who took Aredhel Turgon’s sister to wife. He gave Anglachel to Thingol as fee, which he begrudged, for leave to dwell in Nan Elmoth; but its mate Anguirel he kept, until it was stolen from him by Maeglin, his son. The Silmarillion, ‘Of Túrin Turambar’

Discussion

Anglachel and its mate Anguirel are remarkable weapons. Not only because they were forged from “star iron”, against which the mere iron ores of Earth were no match, but also — certainly in the case of Anglachel and probably likewise with Anguirel — they seem to have possessed a sort of dark power, even sentience.

When Thingol gives Anglachel to Beleg, Melian says:

‘There is malice in this sword. The dark heart of the smith still dwells in it. It will not love the hand it serves; neither will it abide with you long.’

Melian’s words, as usual, prove prescient: Anglachel goes on to be the instrument of Beleg’s demise, wielded against him by Túrin as Beleg attempts to cut the fetters holding his friend captive. Gwindor then briefly carries Anglachel, until he and Túrin come to the Pool of Ivrin and Túrin is released of the madness of his grief over Beleg. Túrin notes that the blade has blackened and become blunt, and Gwindor remarks:

‘This is a strange blade, and unlike any that I have seen in Middle-earth. It mourns for Beleg even as you do.’ The Children of Húrin, Chapter 9: Death of Beleg

The implication seems to be that Anglachel has weathered unnaturally after losing its master.

Presumably because of this damage, Anglachel is reforged in Nargothrond. We do not know who specifically reforged the swords, but it is popular fanon that Celebrimbor, who remained in Nargothrond following his father’s expulsion, may have been involved. After reforging, Anglachel becomes Gurthang.

Gurthang (Anglachel reforged)

Meaning: Iron of Death. Sindarin.

Maker: Eöl, reforged by smiths of Nargothrond

Owned/wielded by: Túrin

Notable for: slaying Glaurung, Brandir, Túrin

Fate: Broken under Túrin’s body in his suicide. Shards buried with him.

The sword Anglachel was forged anew for him by the cunning smiths of Nargothrond, and though ever black its edges shone with pale fire. The Silmarillion, ‘Of Túrin Turambar’ Then they lifted up Túrin, and saw that his sword was broken asunder. So passed all that he possessed. The Children of Húrin, Chapter 13: The Death of Túrin

Discussion

Anglachel’s seeming-sentience is amplified by its reforging as Gurthang. In this incarnation, the weapon frequently flickers and flames as if it houses a fire of its own. Most notably, when Túrin prepares to take his own life, Gurthang speaks:

Then he drew forth his sword, and said: 'Hail Gurthang, iron of death, you alone now remain! But what lord or loyalty do you know, save the hand that wields you? From no blood will you shrink. Will you take Túrin Turambar? Will you slay me swiftly?' And from the blade rang a cold voice in answer: 'Yes, I will drink your blood, that I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and the blood of Brandir slain unjustly. I will slay you swiftly.' Then Túrin set the hilts upon the ground, and cast himself upon the point of Gurthang, and the black blade took his life. The Children of Húrin, Chapter 13: The Death of Túrin

A Tangent: The Enigma of the Sentient Sword

There is no explanation in the legendarium for why or how Gurthang speaks, but a speaking sword is an enduring feature of Túrin’s story that goes all the way back to the earliest version, Turambar and the Foalókë (c. 1917-19, published in The History of Middle-earth Vol. 2: The Book of Lost Tales Part Two). So why did Gurthang speak, and why was this feature so dear to Tolkien? Well, here’s a passage on the death of the hero of the Tale of Kullervo in the Kalevala, a Finnish epic that Tolkien read as a teenager and which was a major inspiration behind the story of Túrin.

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Grasped the sharpened sword he carried, Looked upon the sword and turned it, And he questioned it and asked it, And he asked the sword's opinion, If it was disposed to slay him, To devour his guilty body, And his evil blood to swallow. Understood the sword his meaning, Understood the hero's question, And it answered him as follows: "Wherefore at thy heart's desire Should I not thy flesh devour, And drink up thy blood so evil? I who guiltless flesh have eaten, Drank the blood of those who sinned not?" Kalevala, Rune XXXVI, translated by W.F. Kirby (1907)

Very familiar, isn’t it? The existence of a talking sword in-universe provides opportunity for all sorts of imaginative explanations, but the influence of Kullervo offers, I think, a compelling Doylist one.

Finally, it’s common to read interpretations where Anglachel and Anguirel exhibit the same properties as Gurthang. But there’s not, to the best of my knowledge, explicit canonical evidence that “speech” was an ability these two swords had from the time of their forging by Eöl. (I was also fascinated to find, during research for this post, that Anglachel and Anguirel were probably not always black. I made a separate post about it.)

Anguirel

Meaning: Uncertain. Possibly a combination of Sindarin ang “iron”, (unattested) uir “fiery” (or Noldorin uir “eternity”), and êl “star” (Eldamo).

Maker: Eöl

Owned/wielded by: Eöl, Maeglin

Fate: Unknown; presumably lost in the fall of Gondolin

Discussion

Compared to Anglachel, we know little of the history of its mate Anguirel, save that it was stolen from Eöl by Maeglin, presumably at the time Maeglin left Nan Elmoth for Gondolin.

Angrist (knife)

Meaning: Iron Cleaver. Sindarin.

Maker: Telchar of Nogrod

Owned/wielded by: Curufin, Beren

Fate: Breaks in Beren’s attempt to cut a second Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown.

Then Beren did Curufin release; but took his horse and coat of mail, and took his knife there gleaming pale, hanging sheathless, wrought of steel. No flesh could leeches ever heal that point had pierced; for long ago the dwarves had made it, singing slow enchantments, where their hammers fell in Nogrod, ringing like a bell. Iron as tender wood it cleft, and sundered mail like woollen weft. But other hands its haft now held; its master lay by mortal felled. The Lay of Leithian, 3051-3063

Then Lúthien rising forbade the slaying of Curufin; but Beren despoiled him of his gear and weapons, and took his knife, Angrist. That knife was made by Telchar of Nogrod, and hung sheathless by his side; iron it would cleave as if it were green wood. The Silmarillion, ‘Of Beren and Lúthien’

Discussion

Although of a different maker (and of unknown metallic composition), Angrist has interesting similarities with Anglachel and Anguirel. Besides the initial ang- element, all three blades are noted for an ability to cut through iron, and both Anglachel and Angrist end up “turning against” their masters as a pivotal moment: Angrist by breaking as Beren tries to cut a second Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown, and Anglachel by being the instrument of Beleg's death. As Eöl is also noted to have learned from the Dwarves, some fans have imagined these three blades may have been forged from the same meteoritic iron, or at least to share some of the same “enchantment”.

Note that the quote from Lay of Leithian does not explicitly apply to Angrist, which is a name for Curufin’s knife that Tolkien first used in the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion.

Part 2 | Part 3

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

thinking about explanations vis à vis angrist in the lay of leithian, the question being whether or not it was the knife, the wielder, or the forger (or some triangulation of multiple factors??) that made it possible for beren and lúthien to cut the silmaril free. the appeal of it being simply the knife itself is great for dharmic dramatic irony punished-by-the-narrative significance, since curufin had possession of something that could have fulfilled the oath and just didn't know it (!!!!), but the idea that it was beren and lúthien in particular who allowed angrist to cleave through morgoth's crown lines up nicely with the general fairy-tale logic of leithian. that it was their courage and fierce hope prising the silmaril out and the knife was just an accessory. curufin couldn't've done it even if he'd tried—in fact, maybe he lost angrist because of his own actions, and in true fairy-tale fashion it went to those who best merited it. and then there's the possibility that telchar was just on something different, which doesn't have any narrative bearing that i can figure out.. and of course it's always also feasible that nothing was special or different, and any sharp object could have done the job, it's just that no one tried. which has a nice sort of futility to it all in all

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

The Leap of Beren fiasco happened because Tolkien needed to get Angrist to Beren. A conflict between Curufin and Beren at least was inevitable.

[thedangerfloofhasreturned]

The Song of Lúthien (updated)

Graphite pencils (plus some shopping from original)

[admirableprecious]

Some headcanon(brand new with not quite new)

”The remnants of Angrist were left behind in the nethermost hall of Angband when Beren and Lúthien escaped Dor-na-Daerachas.[4]”

Uh huh. And then Morgoth gave those remnants to Princess Sauron who in turn reforged it into a dagger of “perfect” steel that he often kept hidden under his left forearm or wherever it suited him.

Celebrimbor added jewels to the hilt as a gift. Awwww…but then, well, it’s pretty mean headcanon. :(

It’s also used at Dagor Dagorath, but that’s another headcanon.

[silm-pronunciations]

Angrist, knife of Curufin

(with which Beren cut the Silmaril from The Dark One's crown)

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Today’s ooc headcanon

Curufin made Angrist together with Telchar because he could not get over the fact that his brother lost his hand due to Fingon’s sword being unable to cut open the shackle

So in the following hundreds of years he researched all the ways with his friends and colleagues to make better blades against Morgoth’s iron

And he carried one of those blades sheathless with him all the time, just in case

Of course it would not help his brother but he hoped it would be able to help someone else

And it did; it freed one of his father’s gems from Morgoth’s grasp

And that Silmaril later became the star of hope

----------

No I refuse to believe Curufin was not involved in making Angrist. That’s just downright unbelievable. He is a master smith he definitely made something. I think due to all the horrible crimes he committed it was difficult for Sindar to remember his occupations. He made no shiny things and the Noldor being shiny-obsessed-crows found everything he made unappealing.

It would be interesting if Curufin was a swordsmith while both his father and his son were jewel-smiths. If was in Beleriand that he found his passion and let his talent shine. His father and his son created their masterwork in peace time, one hoped to preserve the light of the Trees one hoped to preserve the beauty of Middle Earth. Curufin did not have those sentiments. He created swords to protect people, to free people from Evil, to carry out the revenge against the Evil that ruined his family.

Look, Celegorm lost Huan to Luthien. Curufin lost Angrist to Beren. Ah if Angrist was a little bit sentient. When Curufin tried to attack Beren Angrist slipped. The knife that was forged to fight against evil decided their maker was doing evil and refused to help. 

The knife could sort of send thoughts to Beren and Beren believed he was hallucinating (he knew his mind was not stable from all the horror of werewolf island.) Then the knife snapped and was left behind in the mess afterword. 

In the rest of Beren’s life he kept thinking about the knife wondering if Finrod and the Ten and Huan were not the only ones lost due to his foolish quest.

----------

I will ship Angrist/Anguirel/Anglachel I am going to ship them so hard

----------

(Hey I know there are all the AUs in which kinslaying did not happen but Eol was still made into an evil git just to let Maeglin happen. Somewhere there should be a AU in which kinslaying did not happen and that actually solved most of the problems.)

(You know, in which Eol and Curufin became besties and just chilled out over there with Nogrod dwarves making awesome swords. Aredhel finally convinced Celegorm to elope (they were still cousins and Turgon had a lot of opinions over that matter) into the famous Sindar dating forest to have a century-long honeymoon. Thingol was suspicious of Noldor but got over it relatively quickly after realizing nothing horrible had happened out there.) 

(Ignore Maeglin he would not mind much about being erased from the timeline if everything get considerably better in exchange) 

(Of course feel free to have the cursed Aredhel/Celegorm/Eol ship in which the later two were super extremely jealous and kept coming up with stupid ways to get rid of the other one and failing) (you know, feeding the other to stray beasts or poisoning the other with mushroom stew)

[tenth-sentence]

It came then into Beren's mind that he would go beyond his vow, and bear out of Angband all three of the Jewels of Fëanor; but such was not the doom of the Silmarils.

"The Silmarillion" - J.R.R. Tolkien

[fostersffff]

Hard to believe that any of the Super Best Friend Play gang went on to have children, and especially hard to believe that it was fucking Pat, but it's so nice to see him (and Woolie) gush about the babby.

[paradife-loft]

in other news, ended up on the topic of tattoos & swords & sword tattoos generally w a friend earlier today and. this May have provided an idea* for finally solving one of my longest-standing tattoo-related personal dilemmas**

[tlaquetzqui]

What flattery could Sauron and the Ring use to manipulate him that wouldn’t just get met with “duh, I know”, though? It couldn’t even use “everyone will know how great you are” because Sonic would say “Oh they will soon enough without your help, ✌️Precious✌️, I just haven’t bothered showing them.” (I feel it’s clear Sonic would make air quotes every time he refers to the Ring by Mairon’s name.)

The only tack I can think of Sauron being able to take is “defeating me wouldn’t really count unless you give me my Ring”. Which Sauron might not be childish enough to expect—does he seem like the kind of person who would anticipate Goku healing Cell to make the final fight better?

Also…“Hey what do you say, Gwaihir, Gandalf (love the wardrobe upgrade by the way, buddy): want to help the Knight of the Wind ride again?” It’s not like this would be his first rodeo with a dark lord. The desire to prevent things and people from passing away, Sauron’s main trap for both Elves and Men, is even involved! (“Sounds pretty lame!”)

Sonic the Hedgehog (sustained speed of 767 MPH) could have made the journey from the Shire to Mount Doom (1718.5 miles) in just over two hours. But also he famously loves rings, so he almost assuredly would have found the thrall of the Ring far too powerful to resist. Tails would have had to shoot him

[sesamenom]

meet again at the end of time

(aka: C&C finally get their own pet edain)

some background:

(for those not following the braywashed saga) the two guys in the middle are (real, entirely human) wrestlers Elton Prince & Kit Wilson of Pretty Deadly, introduced to the silm fandom by @kitwilsonsass, and known for their uncanny resemblance to C&C in both appearance and demeanor.

As Arda is Earth, the Dagorath has not yet happened, and PD are human people who exist, it is entirely canon compliant for them to join C&C in the dagorath. Hence, CCPD alliance.

design notes:

CC

Celegorm's tattoos represent a symbol of devotion to Orome/the Hunt by imitating Orome's vala markings. Given that bows aren't the best weapon for melee fights, his primary weapon here is based on a boar spear, because I imagine similar tactics would be helpful against some of Morgoth's larger creatures. He wears the Feanorian star once on his armband and once painted on his shield (not shown).

Curufin's helm is based off the Silm description of the red-plumed helms of the Host of Feanor. His armor features one Feanorian star and the Trees (telperion not shown), and his shield bears one other star. He wears a dwarven knife (not Angrist since beren broke it) on his belt.

PD

Based on braywashed's assortment of PD outfit posts, they seem to have a light/dark color scheme, reflected here in their armor colors. Their hairstyles are based on what seems like their irl/interview-hair (aka practical hairstyle, because as unnaturally elven as they are they sadly do not have magical hair) (x). Elto's pink arrow fletchings and Kitto's blue mesh cape refer to the pink/blue matching outfit (x), while Elto's bow/quiver harness and both of their shirt colors reference the harness outfit.

Their weapons follow the opposite color scheme as their armor for contrast purposes, and weapon types (double rapiers + bow, double daggers) are based on braywashed's post here.

Both of PD's armor designs draw influence from c. 15th century English armor, seeing as they are British people, and feature a unique half-breastplate evocative of the extremely cropped sleeve shirt things they normally wear when wrestling.

edit: uploaded the wrong version (no tattoos) at first oops

[petalsonmoon]

if your cascade, ocean wave blues come

the three times you give each other peace.

part 2 of 3.

part 1 here.

wc: 2.1k

notes: thank you for the patience and for reading <3

and for the next 3 months, everything moved regularly slow.

you did your best in everything you put your strength in. you didn’t let the uncomfortable situation hold you back in getting better with mic and, granted, the results were appearing in your other life subjects.

you always did great in the theoretical part of school, always willing to learn new things and you had a saying you created yourself that was: all books eventually catch one’s attention. sometimes you gotta go through hell before everything gets interesting.

and accordingly, you put your name on the 3rd spot in your class raking.

you were proud of that.

In the span of those next months you trained with new faces. you made a good friendship with honenuki, growing to meeting each other after hours to not hold back in the sparing.

mic said that was a good idea. train with someone you didn’t know well to get habituated with the loud noises.

now, when it came to the exercises with class A there were interesting surprises.

the first one, happened 3 weeks after your encounter with bakugo, and unfortunately your group didn’t include him. and it’s not like you were looking for something here but that situtation you both had left you curious about the boy. for the particular reason that when you were feeling frustated and sad about yourself, his presence was a calming thought in that storm.

like. that was perfectly normal, right?

he didn’t ask why you weren’t at the presentation and he didn’t underestimated you for that either. and that’s all you wanted. to breathe peacefully and not being judged.

the second one, it happened 4 weeks after that. in spite of aizawa’s enormous lack of effort and energy to deal with professor sekijiro, they decided to unify the classes for the day and let the students review and establish in pairs how to manage their quirks whilst working with an unfamiliar sidekick.

you were incapable to control your wide eyes the second bakugo walked to you with heavy steps and serious eyes. some colleagues also noticed the strange occurrence and that made you a little unease. but you handled like the mysterious and confident person you pretended to be with him that day.

you held his gaze but you couldn’t fucking stop the sweat it was forming in the back of your neck.

because being honest, nothing really changed between you two, only a few exchanged glaces in the caferia but that was it. and being even more honest, class A was annoyingly famous around the school so you couldn’t (and didn’t have the balls) to approach the angrist boy in the faculty out of nowhere.

since the task was to be a sidekick you didn’t have to fight against him or anything, so you just took a sip of water and went on with it with your head held high.

bakugo was a handful with capital H but a brilliant leader, so it was a nice activity.

and you could really sense that each time it was an activity outside of your comfort zone, you were feeling less and less overwelmed with the noises. you were proud of that.

the training took practically the whole day and when everyone was tiredly getting back to the dorms, he passed by you. the bastard didn’t even look at you.

“meet me in the gymnasium in two hours.”

by the time the phrase is undestood by your brain, he’s already out of your sight.

but you already knew what it was going to happen. so, you went quickly eat some dinner, take a slow shower and mentally prepare yourself.

what is this feeling? excitement? nervouness? you tried not to look to closely at the tiny bit of giddiness also there.

when the time came you made your way to the gymnasium, trying to make your heart and brain settle down and as you entered the place you saw bakugo himself with his back to you getting ready.

you’ve seen him with those black tanks out and about from afar in numerous times.

getting a closer look of his perfectly broad back and designed bíceps made your brain and heart finally agree in one certain feeling.

that’s enough. he’s here to purely beat your ass.

you walk towards him and put your bag on the bench.

“took it to heart, i see.”

“no” he didn’t even look you.

“you’re kinda easy to work with” you admit swiftly as you start to get ready, taking your eyes off of him. “should make a great opponent as well.”

he grumbles in response.

“if you go easy on me i’ll walk.” you say.

and then you finally feel his eyes on you. “then don’t waste my time.”

and that’s how you had the most difficult practice of your life.

bakugo did not held back and you had to think ridiculously fast to survive every single insanely fast strategies he came up with. but you did not held back either and you’re very proud to say you put up with him for some good minutes before he won the match. the boy was almost number 1 of the entire school, you won’t minimize your efforts.

when it ended and you were on the ground he walked to you and offered his hand. and without saying another word you two spared again. and again. and again.

and it took you some time to get used to his explosions so near you but you think you could maneuver your reactions when you actually focused on learning his movements. you're not sure how he handles this loudness.

and he won every single time. but during fights you both were adjusting to how the other thought and moved. it was such an intense but pleasant experiment that you allowed yourself to comment to him your thoughts about his fighting, not judging nor imposing but simply a different point of view.

and you think you worded everything greatly because his eyes weren’t showing you an the usual amount of irritation and after a while he started to comment about you as well.

that was exactly 6 days ago.

right now, you were at the music room once again, sitting by the piano learning how to play twinkle twinkle little star through an app.

it was a choice you made after the festival and okay. not your proudest decision but it calmed you down when you needed. school is not easy and having a hobbie whilst wanting to become a hero is hard.

it was an inoffensive little bobbie.

you were think jingle bells was probably next.

you’ve been there for about 30 minutes when the door slammed open. they really needed to check it someday, people have not been gentle with it.

and you look up to find bakugo katsuki irradiating rage. it was clear he wanted to storm off to the couch he sitted last time but to your unfortunate it was close to the piano and he quickly stopped once he noticed you were in the room as well.

everything you knew about class A was from kirishima cause him and tetsu were strangely close. which is funny because he’s really close to bakugo too but you rarely talked to the blonde up until now.

well, you heard this week that class A had a very important evaluation today. the show-us-in-public-how-much-you-evolved-your-quirk-and-rescuing-people kind of evaluation. so this right now could be related to that information.

you tried to read in his expression if you’d be the target of whatever got him enraged but before you could analize anything he simply angrily sat and closed his eyes.

his irritation tugged something in you. a bit of impotence. you had no idea how to help him and you’re certain that ask him how is the absolute last option.

so you did the most reasonable thing. you look down and continue to play the piano.

twinkle twinkle little star.

if it helped calmed you down perhaps it did the same for him. the boy who smashed the drums. ha.

and for a fair 5 minutes that’s how you both stayed. once you thought you were beginning to understand how to differentiate the dozen of white sticks in front of you, you raise your head to find him in the exact position as before.

you don’t know him well but if you thought you did, you’d say the wrinkles around his eyes and the furrow between his brows seemed slightly relaxed.

“in the piano i’m better than you.” you say almost whispering and let out a chuckle. “ha!”

he shakes his head imperceptibly with his eyes still closed.

“you’re stupid.”

you play another verse of the one song you know on the piano before answering “i don’t think so.”

is that the ghost of a smile you see on his face?

“i can teach you.” you continue.

“absolutely doubt that.”

“you don’t trust me?”

he finally lowers his head and makes a face to you. a low and short grunt in response.

“oh no.” you shake your head “i thought we were past this. i swear i didn’t let you win when we trained. you won far and square, i promise.”

it was a single joke to lighten up his mood. you only intended to create a good and natural conversation but when you heard him snickering with a pinch of genuine laugh underneath it you wanted to make a few more jokes to keep hearing it.

“you’re stupid.”

“i thought we were past this too.”

“i’m gonna past you if you say that again.” his raspy but calm voice fills the room.

“i see you need a little more of twinkle twinkle little star in you.” you look down and start to play again with a surprising efficiency.

“for the love of god.” he looks up grunting.

“okay.” you stop playing.

you look at him again and his eyes are you. “learned this one today.”

“congratulations.” very sincerely sarcarstic of him.

“in half na hour. one note at of time” you add.

he grimace and you smile.

“just saying.” you add. you pass your fingers through the piano keys threatening to actually touch them. “do you consider yourself a good drummer?”

“i’m fucking great.”

you nod in response.

he raises his eyebrows for a millisecond. “how’d you know?”

now, that’s the tricky part. he doesn’t sound bitter or even rude. he’s completely neutral and you don’t know how to read this... challenge? audacity?

he noticed you weren’t at the festival and you know what he’s asking you now and you’re not sure how to continue the conversation. or how to take that in general

do you think you can handle how his view of you would probably change? if you’re confotable enought to share, does it matter? and surprising even youself, you think trust him to be honest without you getting hurt with him.

“are we caring about what the crowd says now?” your voice small.

“only the ones that don’t waste my time.” he replies just as careful.

well.

that was not good for your heart.

“let’s say” you start “i’m here learning an instrument. it’s not very different from why you’re here today.”

his brows immediately furrow “i think it is-”

“did we not” bold move interrupting him. “learn these instruments for the same reason?”

“careful.”

“and honestly-“

“aren’t you a honest person.” It comes out rough of him.

“this” you gesture lazily to the room. “it’s working for me.”

he is genuinely paying attention to what you’re saying. you don’t wonder if it’s because he’s getting angrier or you’re a easy distraction.

“at least that’s what i’d like to believe. i’m 3rd place in my class and i’m getting better... with everything else.” anxiety, you mean

he’s just staring and you keep going softly  “you’re practically top 3 of the whole school. and that’s a lot of pressure, i’d be terrefied.”

“yeah?” he hums.

“uhum.” red is a fucking intimidating color. “even the most powerful person in school needs a little bit of easiness. i hope this place helps you as it helps me...”

the last part comes out almost like a whisper. and you’re aware you’re talking too much but the boy already saw you sitting in a corner of this very room with ruined makeup. it doesn’t get worse or realer than that.

 “we just need to work on our control.”

then even his aura changes. he carefully tilts his head, daring you to continue.

“we?”

“don’t get me wrong-” you add.

“i’m not.” he hiss. shit.

“what i’m saying is...” you hesitate and push aside any warning in your head. and your exploding heart. “i don’t know you well, and i don’t want to assume. how could i know you from other peoples opinion?”

you can see him relaxing again. it’s very subtle. he’s not guarded anymore, so you take that in consideration. you start playing jingle bells in the background of your head to motivate you.

“but i come here to calm my mind and if you’re just like me... then you’re probably losing control of your brain too.”

you look down to your fingers and your breathing stabilizes. if you truly think about it, you were acutely more nervous about the fact of letting what you’re feeling out of you than him blowing your head out of you for what you said.

“are we psychoanalyzing each other?”

“no.” you shake your head “i just want you to enjoy twinkle twinkle little star with me.”

you want to look up but you’re scared.

“you know what i think?”

but with that you do look at him. he’s the softest he can be.

“that you are actually letting it control you.”

now, what the fuck.

how does he know things?

you’re the one with the furrowing brows this time. okay. he secret is always pretend you’re confident and in the control of the situation.

“oh bakugo,” you smile a little “are we friends now?”

“for a honest person you’re dodging a lot.”

goddammit. his aswers are always so quick.

“alright.” you compromisse “can we make na arrangement?”

“hm” that's all you got.

“every wednesday we train together after hours, that’ll help me” this part is true “and in return you’ll work on whatever makes you almost break the poor door everytime you come here.”

he was sending you a gaze that could blow you into atoms in the blink of an eye but you see that he thinks before answering.

“i'm not holding anything back."

him going along with you in this was enough as it is. "i'm not expecting you too."

"and then what?"

"then we meet at christmas and whoever is better will get a gift."

you bite a laughter when his response is rolling his eyes.

"like friends do." you add.

"i get it." he growls.

all of that leaves you with a sweet and fresh feeling. like when you're a little kid and you spend the day with your best friend of a week that is also your little crush that you don't know it's a crush cause you're too young and naive.

and that discovery doesn't ruin anything, cause you're a centered person. you're not expecting anything at all from this. having him as a friend is more than enough and you're grateful.

his phone seals the conversation when starts to ring but stops after he even got out of his pocket.

"fucking hate when they do that." he mumbles.

you look down again, not letting your mind twist.

"when i win and meet you in a month." he says very collected as he starts getting up "i'll need you to be very honest with me, got it?"

your whole body hair did not just went up with that. is he always like that?

"careful, bakugo." you hope you sound as nonchalant as him.

he's already by door when he answers you. "great. we have a deal."

he leaves closing the door more gently than you could.