#but like dear god those poor sharks man | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brummiereader · 1 year ago

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Ready for my live reaction as i comment 😄? Sorry if it gets chaotic, I can't control myself when my brain is working faster than I can type 🤭!

Well, this lovely bath scene was a lot more romantic and loving than the madness of the bath scene in the show 😂.

"Wet lips tasting like honey and whisky gently shook you off your torpor with enamored pecks they sprinkled all over your face" dear lord...that sounds like a delicious concoction 🤤. You do have a way with words Shark!

I love this bath scene it's so soft and calming. I love the fact she gave him a head massage instead. It's almost like she's giving him different avenues to relax. These Shelby men have only learnt sex as a way to relieve tension. Now Arthur knows the magic of a head massage...who doesn't love one 🥴!

The lyrics to the song she sung were hauntingly accurate to them as a couple. And the way you write how he relaxes and slowly brings his barrier down is beautiful. My god who doesn't want an Arthur like this, he is completely in love with Heaven! He worships her 😩♥️.

Oh Fuck...they are going to reunion 😳. NOO! Stay home, have another bath, just don't leave the house 🙈( I can't look).

I love that they have a plan to go somewhere outside of Birmingham, and I can see why she wants to go somewhere greener and fresher. France has incredible forests, where I live it's very green, and you can 100% feel the difference in air quality when you go back to the UK. My dad who is asthmatic never needs to use his inhaler when he visits me. My poor home country is getting so built up now, the countryside is disappearing 😞.

"They were all eager to retrieve their due and leave" Ooff 😬, this little sentence says a lot. Tommy has pushed everyone away from him, he has been cruel and selfish, his family are not coming to see him but collect their money, it really sets the scene.

I Love this scene with her and Katie ♥️. Heaven is just so perfect with children! It's such a tender and sweet moment between them, and I love how she's not afraid Heavens a witch and that's she's genuinely interested. Honestly kids are better role models than us adults.

OH MY GOD...he's going to do it, he's going to pop the question 😯🍿! Aaaaw he is so adorable and nervous, please make it stop it's too fluffy ❤️😂!! Omg Arthur would you bloody stop putting yourself down 😠! AWW yes they're engaged 🥰🥳! Wow that was intense Shark, I can now breathe 😂. Of course she was going to say yes, these two were made for eachother, they compliment eachother perfectly. This whole scene was perfect Shark, you could really feel Arthur's nervousness, I loved how he couldn't help but ramble on a bit , it was so endearing...now I'm just waiting for you to destroy the little fluffy bubble you built up for me in the next paragraph...here goes 😂😳.

"Something was wrong. Definitely wrong"

Arghh!! Say something Heaven, you feel something is wrong, expose this angry little man. The goodbyes are breaking me... especially hers and John. They care so much for eachother and have built such a strong relationship with eachother, you know how much I love Arthur John and Heavens interactions ❤️.

Oh no here we go, the truth has been dropped. Heaven knew something bad was coming, but I honestly don't think she could have saved them all from this 😞.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!! That sneaky bastard!!! She saved your sons life!!! I am furious right now 😡! Has he done this on purpose, a way to get rid of Heaven. He talks about making a deal but is Heaven in that deal, I swear to god if she's not I'm gonna flip!!

I am screaming!! Go for him Heaven!! Ah bah oui, bien sûr tu comprends Tommy! You understand french, you megalomaniac! I hope those words struck his ice cold heart. The way you wrote this part was incredible Shark, the way you described Heavens anger mounting had me hanging on with each word, you are a master of angst!

“Careful with this one. She’s put two of my guards into hospital. That bitch’s fucking feral.” 😏😅, I loved this. Better watch out, she may look small and meak but Heaven is deadly!

My heart is pounding right now, I feel like I'm with her walking to the noose. The way you describe every detail makes it feel incredibly real.

"Dying was bothering enough, there was no need to sprinkle the process with hypocrisy" there was something about this sentence that made me think on a deeper level. It's the fact of giving in to death. Heavens mindset is one to dream of, she brushes death off like it's just something she has to get done. She doesn't make a big deal out of it, she gives in, almost welcomes it. Its frightening but in a strange way reassuring to the reader. If only I could be as fearless as Heaven ❤️.

"After all, it was always meant to end like this" Shark this ending is just 💥, I actually can't find the words to describe it. This chapter was out of this world, every emotion every sensation I felt, your of way describing things is so poetic. I can't wait to read what happens next, I am on the edge of my seat. Fantastic Hun ❤️❤️!

P.S enjoy your holiday and don't feel pressure to respond to this ♥️🌅!

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: With the Russians gone and Father Hughes dead, you and Arthur can enjoy some romantic moments together, including a proposal. After talking about your future, you both decide to leave Birmingham to build a family away from Small Heath's filth. But that dawning happiness is soon wrecked by Thomas and his plans.

Words: 6k

TW: tooth-rotting fluff, like really sweet moments, angst, quick allusion to smut, typical canon violence, mention of death penalty, allusions to death by hanging

Notes:

✞ This chapter signs the start of season 4 and, consequently, the end of the first Act of Heaven in Your Eyes. Following this chapter, there will be a two-week pause for the series. Also, parts borrowed from the show are italicized.

✞ The song Heaven sings is a French cover of Bad Guy. You can just click on the French lyrics to open the song and listen to it.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

Arthur let out a long sigh of relief escape from his lips as his body slipped a bit more into the hot and soapy water of the bathtub. The smell of body soap, whose fragrances were those of honey and vanilla, wrapped his mind in a sweet haze. But those pleasant scents were nothing compared to the perfume of your skin his senses could recognize even hidden behind the synthetic ones. Following the last violent and chaotic events of the past few days, this moment of pure relaxation felt like a delightful reward. Everything had happened so fast, in a matter of three days, that none of you really had time to process everything. At least, the worst was behind you.

The oldest Shelby brother was lying in the hot water, his back resting against the bath tube’s edge and your tiny frame snuggled in his arms. You were locked in a tight embrace, with your legs entangled and your bodies firmly pressed against each other. The smile that was etched on your juicy lips widened as the melody of his soft sighs and the water’s lapping lulled you to drowsiness. He looked down to observe you and his mind drifted away. The last time he was in a bathtub with a woman — or with two, to be true — Arthur was snorting a ridiculously dangerous amount of snow and drowning his pain in meaningless sex. It was right after the Peaky Blinders had taken over the Eden’s Club by Tommy’s orders. At this period of his life, Arthur was at his worst and he was still very much ashamed of his past conduct. All he wanted to do back then was to sabotage himself. And yet, here he was, two years later, in the bathroom of his little house — and not in some shady London clubs —, with God’s favorite seraph all nestled in his arms. He had come far. A comforting wave of warmth spread in his soul as he watched you, his heart filled with both pride and ecstasy. Arthur, more than anyone else, was aware of how lucky he was to have you. For sure he strongly believed he did not deserve your love, but if there was one thing he knew it was that he would never let you go. Never. His long fingers softly moved aside one wet strand of your ivory hair, slipping it behind your ear. As he did, he could not help but smile. Life finally made sense to him when he looked at you, half asleep in that bathtub. The truth was, he would go through everything again — the war, the pain, the suicide attempt, the hell of addictions, and the catastrophic wedding — just to hold you like this. Wet lips tasting like honey and whisky gently shook you off your torpor with enamored pecks they sprinkled all over your face. First, it was the corner of your mouth, then your cheeks, and, finally, your forehead. You lifted your heavy lids and looked up only to be welcomed by his ravishing grin and his piercing blue eyes. Those damn eyes you’d die for.

“Yer a cute sleepyhead, eh.”

“Mmm.” You mumbled, slowly emerging from your sweet drowsiness, “It’s your fault.” You teased with a sleepy voice before gently nibbling his earlobe. The light pressure of your teeth on his flesh caused him to groan in pleasure. His grip strengthened on you, long fingers digging a bit more into your porcelain skin.

“My fault?” He raised a brow all the while rubbing his clean-shaven cheek against yours in a sign of both affection and arousal.

“You did not let me sleep that much the past few days.” You replied with a gleam of amusement in your eyes. As an answer, Arthur’s hoarse laugh rose up to the ceiling.

“Can't keep my hands off you eh,” He said with a lower voice before rubbing your nose with his in an adorable bunny kiss. His soft facial hair tickled your skin, causing you to laugh with him, “the urge to make love to you is too fookin irresistible… Ye make me lose me fookin’ mind,” He growled in your ear. You low-key trapped your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt one of his calloused hands trailing up your ribs with a caress as soft as a feather “And speaking about makin’ love…”

“Lord, are you even tired?” A gentle chuckle escaped from your lips. Before he could even react, you stopped him in his tracks and swiftly shifted your body until you sat on his hips and faced him. He looked at you with desire blazing in his eyes and smirked, his mustache slightly lifting as did.

“Not with you all naked in front of me, love.” Arthur brought his face closer, but all his lips met was your index finger you had slipped on your mouth to keep him from kissing you.

“I had something else in mind, chéri.”

“Come on, lemme kiss you…” He complained, the tip of his tongue gently licking your finger in a teasing way. The wet caress sent shivers down your spine but even though you really wanted him, you did not give in to his lust.

“No.” You replied, your smile turning into a sharp grin.

He was about to protest a bit more vividly when you slipped your small hands in his hair and started to massage his head.

“What are you—“ Arthur opened his eyes wide for a few seconds at the unexpected sensation of your fingertips exerting the perfect pressure on his scalp. And then, the whole traits of his face relaxed in an adorable expression, “Oh. Fuuuck—“ He sighed in ecstasy. Shut off by your touch, Arthur squeezed his lids and slightly parted his lips. Enjoying the way he reacted to your touch, you looked at him with a playful smile but what you saw instead almost break your heart. The expression on his face was indescribable — he looked like a beaten dog who had just discovered what tenderness was after a life of abuse and violence. Arthur let out a shaky moan as he gave in under your fingers like a wounded animal finally finding both the comfort and help it needed for years.

Your softness. Your love. Your patience... It all felt so good he could have cried.

Feeling him shivering, you deepened the massage and did your best to relax his poor exhausted body. Indeed, you poured all your love into each of your gestures, hoping your sweetness would sip through the crack of his mind and heal his deepest wounds. And as Arthur melt in your hands, the enchanting melody of your voice filled the room and sent him to paradise.

“Tachée de sang ou d’autre chose, Caché, tu rodes et moi je n’ose Parler, on mets la nuit sur pause Tu te prends pour un autre Des bleus partout sur mes genoux Tais-toi c'est moi qui tient ton cou Cette fois je fais ce que je veux J'ai l'âme coupée en deux.”

His breath slowed down at your hypnotic voice whose tone, feathery and supernatural, hold him in a blissful trance. Curiously enough, the fact he did not understand French only enhanced the impression he was listening to an otherworldly chant. Arthur buried his face in your bosom, his whole being reacting to your voice with goosebumps and shivers. Every synapse of his brain recalled the first time he had heard you sing in this church, lost in the middle of the night.

“Toi t'es un gars dur, tu aime avoir l'air sûr Bien blindée ton armure et défoncer des murs Moi je fais peur à ta mère, à tes sœurs J'ai ton père dans l'viseur Et ta go veut que j'meurs Je suis le méchant.”

Your fingers continued their work, massaging his head and petting his wet hair with utter tenderness, all the while you kept singing. You sang and Arthur healed. A smile appeared through dawning tears he was fighting hard against, for he was convinced he just found gold and even a few stars in your voice.

After the romantic bath, both of you reluctantly left the comforting warmth of each other to dress for the last family reunion. In fact, now that Tommy and Tatiana’s business came to a satisfying end for the two parties, he had organized one ultimate meeting with the Shelbys to give the money he owed them. He, as well as the rest of the Shelby/Gray house, was well aware that Arthur and you took the decision to leave Birmingham to pursue a quieter life. Surprisingly enough, the idea came from Arthur. He had told you about how he would love to open a garage and fix cars, while you had shared with him your inner desire to live near a forest to remind you of the luxuriant nature of your childhood town. Somehow, the smog of Birmingham never made you feel at home. Nevertheless, none of you wanted to do something without the other’s approbation. You were more than decided to face life as you had always done since you met: together, as a unique and vibrating soul. Yet, contrary to Linda, you had reassured him about the family business. In fact, you made clear that you would stick around if he wanted to. In no way you wished to interfere between your man and his family, as long as the risks for him remain tolerable. But Arthur felt the protective need to take you away from Small Heath’s filth. Moreover, he wished to leave his murderous past behind him and focus on the future — a future that was made of you, a house in the forest, and a little mix of both of you running barefoot in the grass.

You let out a cloud of smoke escaping from your lips. Quietly smoking in the garden of Tommy’s magnificent mansion, you looked at the guests coming and entering the house without wasting the slightest minute. They were all eager to retrieve their due and leave. You could have done the same, but you wanted to enjoy the pleasant and soothing feeling of sun rays caressing your frozen skin before locking yourself up in a room with Tommy Shelby and his never-ending speeches. The sound of a car engine made you look to your right: Polly had just arrived with Michael. The poor lad was still under the shock of Father Hughes’ death by his own hands but did his best not to let it show. However, no one could hide something from the witch you were. You took one quick look at Michael and knew something was off. The tiny flame that was burning in his blue eyes when he first came to Birmingham was now extinguished, blown away by the poison of guilt now running through his veins.

Pol greeted you with a warm smile as she passed by you. She was delighted by your presence, and even more by the fact Arthur and you were about to leave the town. She, as well as John, could only thank you for the good you brought upon the oldest Shelby. Regarding Michael, he only nodded to acknowledge your presence before disappearing into the mansion.

“Aunt Heaven!” A little girl, as beautiful as a rose and with a smile as beaming as the sun itself, suddenly rushed to you. Her little feet were hammering the gravel track, ejecting tiny pebbles each time they hit the ground. You stubbed out your cigarette on a small decorative wall and opened your arms to catch Katie, ready to get tackled with her hug. She snuggled against you as soon as she reached you, “Dad says you’re going to leave. Is it true? Can’t you stay? I really don’t want you to leave you know. Who’s gonna play with me now?”

You chuckled, trying to make sense of Katie’s speech because she had talked in such a chaotic and quick pace you had barely understood one word out of two, “I’m not going that far kitty-Kat, you know,” You leaned over her to lay a sweet kiss on her forehead. She reacted with a silky pout.

“But you’re leaving me!”

“Would you forgive me if I braid your hair?”

“Ohhh yess! Yours are always so beautiful — just like my doll!”

“Aw thank you, kitty Kat.” You put your hands on her shoulders and made her turn around to start braiding her hair with your skillful fingers. It was something you had always liked to do to your little sister, back in France. After her death, you kept doing so on yourself as a way to keep her alive. Since then, your long white hair were more than often adorned with a huge variety of braids. “We‘ll still see each other. And you’ll spend some holidays with Uncle Arthur and me, right? So that I could teach you to bake delicious pastries for your family.”

“For my family? No way, I’ll learn only to make myself pastries and eat them in front of my stupid brothers! Serves them right to break my pony figure!” The little one blurted out with genuine mischief, letting you rearrange her blonde hair in one long French braid.

“You’re absolutely right. Oh wait… Stay still, kitty. Can’t braid your hair if ya keep moving like that.” You advised with a caring and patient tone.

Katie tried to remain quiet, but her wonderful children's mind was buzzing with so many thoughts at once it took only five seconds for her to bombard you with questions again. God knew how she managed to stay more or less still despite her overflooding energy. “Dad says living in the countryside is good for babies. Are you and Uncle Arthur going to have a baby?” She asked out of the blue. You snort with amusement at her vivacity. Kids and their tact, you thought.

“I’d love to,”

“When?” She straight off replied.

“That’s quite a difficult thing to know, darling… Let’s just wait for it to happen,” Your fingers were braiding the last strands of hair, “Almost done,” you said — to be true you were quite proud of the result. Even though Katie was such a beautiful little girl you were not sure if the braid embellished her or if it was the other way round.

“But you are a witch. You know everything. That’s what Dad says.”

“Seems like your Dad doesn’t know how it works.”

“And how does it—“

“Katie? Come here, sweetie. Charlies’ nanny is waiting for you!” Esme’s voice called.

It was all it took for Katie to hug you tight, thank you for the braid, and rush toward her mother. Taking into account the importance of this last meeting, Thomas had asked the household staff to take care of the children and not let them interrupt the adults. You looked at Katie’s little swift silhouette disappearing with the nanny with tenderness in your aquamarine eyes. For sure, you were going to miss John and his kids.

When she left, your eyes instinctively searched for Arthur. He had just finished talking with John, who had followed his wife inside not without giving you a wink. You would have chuckled at John’s charming and teasing demeanor if you had not noticed a tint of nervousness in Arthur’s body language. Indeed, he was standing in front of the massive door, playing with his fingers and taking repeated quick glances at you before looking at his own feet, all bashful and hesitant. Your protective instincts kicked in, wondering what was wrong. Finally, he made his way to you with his adorable awkward walk and his arms swinging.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your brows slightly furrowed as you tried to understand the reason behind his anxiety. Once he had reached you, he grabbed your hips to pull you closer.

“Yeah I’m good, me mind was just — Y’know, just thinking about far too many things at once,” He had barely finished his sentence when he fell silent.

“Arthur?”

Arthur’s gaze dived into yours, his steel-blue eyes observing the slightest variations of your irises with a deep focus as if he wished to grasp all the secrets God hid beneath them. He could have stayed like this forever, losing himself in the vastness of the frosted desert that composed your alluring eyes. Yet, he was snatched from his contemplation by the soft sensation of your fingers grazing his cheek.

“What’s the matter, mon amour?” You reiterated, genuinely worried.

The wind blew in the garden, making your wild ivory mane dance behind you along with the petals of the flowers that were surrounding your frames. Arthur remained silent and kept staring at you — and as he did, your ethereal beauty mesmerized him and he felt his hesitation vanishing in stardust.

“Listen angel, I gotta tell ye something. I’ve been thinking about the whole matter for a while, and tried my best not to make things go too fast...”, The gravel in his voice was coated with palpable nervousness. Arthur paused, at the edge of freaking out, but rather took another deep breath. He hated himself for struggling so much to express himself. That was why his strong hands abandoned your hips and cupped your face in his slightly moist palms, “It’s just that… I can’t wait any longer.” That being said, the tall gangster laid a shy kiss on your juicy lips ��contrasting so much with the way he usually devoured them in bed— and to your greatest surprise, took a few steps back right after.

You blinked in confusion, not quite following what he was trying to say, nor what he wanted to do “What do you mean?” You asked, your body yearning for his touch when he backed off.

Arthur parted his lips to say something but, once again, he could not find the right words to share his overwhelming feelings. Instead, he decided to go for it. With one trembling hand, he took a little something out of his pocket.

“Heaven — I know I am not the most handsome lad in town,” He started, nervously tightening his fist around the object he was holding in his palm, “nor the most mentally stable man you have probably met. To be true, I am quite pathetic… A fookin trash. Can’t believe you accept me as I am” Arthur looked at the ground for a few seconds, ashamed of his whole being. “You’re a young and stunning little lady, and I am an old and broken dog eh,” He sniffed, trying to keep composure, “But I’m a good man, I really am. And that good man wants to be a good husband for you.”

Husband. It echoed in your soul, resonating in your skull. Was it really happening? It could not be what you were thinking about, right? You swallowed the lump in your throat, hung onto his every move and word.

“I am not perfect — to be true I’ll probably go back home drunk as fook sometimes and fall on my knees, begging you to save me. Cause you’re the only one that can do that, eh” He chuckled nervously and dived into your eyes. This time he managed to keep eye contact. “but I swear to God I’ll do my best to take care of you and make you the happiest,” Joining actions to his words, Arthur’s free hand took yours. His other one, shaking with anticipation and fear of rejection, processed to slowly slip a shiny gold ring around your finger. Your heart imploded in your tight chest as the cold metal touched your skin, “I don’t want another woman ever again — there’s just you. Only you. So I might not be the best, but you can be sure I’ll remain faithful to you, my Angel… And if you ever doubt my loyalty, I’ll build a fookin’ altar to your beauty and pray on my knees,” He freed your hand from his to let you admire the magnificent ring that was now adorning it.

You lowered your gaze toward the precious jewel and your whole body shook at the sight of the ring. It was really happening.

“Heaven Lavey… “ He cleared his throat, “Would you marry me?”

“Bloody Hell, Arthur.” You swore, unable to choke your reaction. All your life you told yourself no one would ever want the cursed witch you were. Let alone the murder charges against you. You have walked through this existence all alone, convinced it would never change. Yet you found him — a man who was not only in love with you but who literally worshipped you like a goddess. You looked at Arthur’s face again, your angelic face covered by a veil of utter surprise. You stood silent for a few moments which felt like an eternity to Arthur. His anxiety escalated for he could not survive without you. And when he said that he meant it: your mouth held the power to destroy him with one simple word… “ Of course, I want to marry you,” You finally said as you broke the distance between you with determined steps and almost jumped at his neck to pull him in a furiously enraptured embrace, “No matter what awaits me in this life, good or bad, I don’t want it if you’re not by my side, Arthur Shelby. You make me feel safe. You make me feel… Holy. And I’m not used to that.”

“Christ!” He exclaimed, unable to hold his joy any longer, “Come here Miss Shelby!” His hoarse and loud voice boomed in the garden. Not minding the rest of the world, Arthur’s arms wrapped around your waist right before he lifted you from the ground. Laughter escaped from your full lips, as well as tears of happiness breaking at the corner of your eyes, “My Angel, come with me to this meeting — not as me lover but as me fiancee.”

Your feet met the ground again but your heart was still floating.

“That’s fine with me.” You replied. Bringing your fingers to your eyes, you quickly wiped the tears away, taking care not to ruin your makeup. When your hand fell back against your hips, Arthur’s slipped his in yours and entangled your fingers together. You exchanged one last look, filled with undying love and hope for the future, before sinking deep into the corridors of the mansion. Here you both walked, unknowingly leaving the eye of the storm.

Not the slightest word came from your tantalizing mouth during the whole reunion. Thomas’ cold demeanor and the few arguments here and there managed to severely undermine the exhilarating joy Arthur’s proposal had brought to you. With one look, you both silently decided to wait for another moment to announce your wedding. As you observe little King Shelby distributing money, his temper short and fallible, a sudden unpleasant feeling broke through your core. It was similar to what you had felt when you had sensed something was going to happen to Charlie, except that the feeling was so intense this time it almost took your breath away. Not understanding where did this sudden unease come from, you clenched your fingers on your own seat and tried to calm down by focusing on Thomas’ speech. However, his words were soon covered by the thundering sound of your beating heart, whose pace had quickened so brutally that your whole ribcage was shaking at each pulse.

Something was wrong. Definitely wrong.

Fortunately enough, Pol’s last interjection about a different future for the Shelby company marked the end of that tense family reunion. Following a brief silence, you got up from your chair and put your left hand on one of Arthur’s shoulders. You were about to discreetly ask if you could leave but words remained stuck in your throat: the truth was you did not want to rob him of his family goodbye. So, you simply gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before stepping back and waiting, even though the unexplainable urge to get out of this house worsened as minutes passed.

“I’ll be off then, Tom.” He sniffed, “I’ll see you, eh? I’ll see you brother.”

The humble farewell, sober like the rest of the Shelby’s way to show affection toward each other, pinched your heart. No matter the problems in which they got themselves or the endless arguments, there was love in this family. Broken, awkward, and sometimes violent love, but still. You quietly made your goodbyes too in the background — A nod of the head for Finn, Michael, Esmee, and uncle Charlie. A hug for Ada, Polly, Lizzie, and Curly. You thought you could handle it well until it came to John. Your eyes met his saddened pout, and your self-control break down. A single tear rolled down your cheek for the deep bond you had formed with him rendered the farewell more painful than with the other family members. Without uttering a single word, John pulled you in a bear hug so tight the pressure he exerted on your body was almost uncomfortable, but you could not care less. You gently rub his broad back with your hands and, when the moment to pull away happened, you laid a long kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll miss you, little Angel.”

“We’ll see each other. I promise.”

The last thing you did was look away and do your best not to meet his gaze because you know you would probably burst into tears if you did. John religiously followed the same rules, otherwise, he would take you in his arms again and never let you go. Fortunately enough, Arthur’s hand grabbed yours. The warm contact of his skin against yours sent a wave of comfort through your bones — but if it was enough to heal the pain of leaving, it was not to soothe the odd anxiety that was still creeping in your soul. The same anxiety that was screaming at you to leave this damn mansion right now.

You grabbed the door handle, half reassured by your imminent departure when Tommy’s voice echoed through the office with the violence of a guillotine’s blade on a prisoner’s neck.

“You can go, but you won’t get far, Arthur.”

You froze, your heart missing a beat. In a protective reflex, you turned your head in one vivid movement and looked dagger at Tommy. If your jewel-like eyes could shoot bullets, Thomas Shelby would be lying in a pool of blood, dead and cold. What the hell would he make such a snarky remark to his brother? But the more you stared at him, the more the weight of your unease crushed you.

Something was happening, you could feel it. Something awful.

“Ah. All right, Tom.” Arthur, not grasping the meaning behind Tommy’s words, brushed off the comment. You were both about to leave the room when another statement clipped your wings.

“I spoke to Moss last night. He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion.”

The shocking news crossed your body like a lightning bolt burning every inch of your flesh on its way. Stomach twisting, muscle tensing, you brought your hand to your open mouth to cover it. Arthur blinked in surprise — he had to lean against you for his long legs threatened to collapse at any moment. His whole body started to shake as he realize the awful truth: they were coming to take him away.

And just like a rain of deadly shooting stars, came the long list of accusations against the rest of the family members, all uttered with a cold and placid tone as if Thomas Shelby was reciting a lesson. Your head brutally spun. You felt nauseous.

“Wait a minute.” Arthur’s gruff voice exclaimed, filled with confusion and boiling anger, “What the hell you’re talking…” He commented, his hand still in yours though it was the only thing that could ground him — which was the case.

“And you Heaven… “

You just stared at Tommy with eyes wide open, while the whole world crumbled apart around you. Contrary to Arthur, you did not even shake. Nor you did burst into anger. You were just here, paralyzed by the sound of your dreams and hopes shattering like glass smashed on concrete.

“For the involvement in Hughes’ death and the murder of Simon Conrad, his fellow friend.”

You let go off Arthur’s hand and took a few steps back, until your back hit the wall behind you, “You’ve sold us…” Your voice was merely a whisper. Your heart skipped another beat in your chest, running a race against the panic that was crashing against you like a rogue wave on a boat’s hull. The only thing that kept you anchored to reality was Arthur’s mad screams.

“You’re my brother!”

“Listen to me, I have made a deal — “

“They’ll hang us!!”

“In return for giving evidence against them.”

“We’ll fucking hang!”

And then it happened. You snapped out of your lethargic state, brushing off the petrifying anxiety that had turned you to stone. You broke free from the shock and ignited like hellfire. With furious steps, you rushed to the two brothers and pointed to Tommy with one finger, “Toi, espèce de sale traitre -you damn traitor-,” You started in French. Tommy’s empty eyes fell on your tiny frame, doing their best to hide his emotions. The truth was he perfectly understood what you had just said, “Your own fucking family… You know what?” Your face distorted with disgust, “It was not the sapphire Thomas. It was you. It was you all along.” You spat.

Despite Thomas’ neutral demeanor, the flames that lit up his frozen irises left no doubt about the impact of your words. You had hurt him — not only him but his very own soul, to the point you could almost see the ice of his eyes melting.

“Come here, come here!” Arthur’s powerful hands grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to follow him, “Come on now, we have to run!” The oldest took one last look at his brother, pain, and rage making his steel-blue eyes glisten, “FUCK YOU!” He roared, hitting the door with the palm of his hand.

Indistinct Screaming. Yelling. Chaos.

You had barely exited the office when a police officer grabbed you and shoved you against the nearest wall. Your hand lost its grip on Arthur and, without his contact, frost settled in your heart

“Arthur!” You screamed. Or at least you thought you did.

“DON’T TOUCH HER! Heaven!”

Brutally squeezed between the wall and the officer’s body, you still extended one of your arms in a desperate attempt to reach Arthur but it was in vain. When the policeman noticed it, he twisted your wrist behind your back. A whimper of pain escaped from your lips. What happened next you could not tell, for the chaos that swallowed you made everything fade to black. All you could grasp was the sensation of the handcuff metal, as shiny as the golden ring around your finger, biting your skin, and the sound of Arthur’s screams in the faraway distance.

They said until Death do us part, but you had not expected it that soon.

“Careful with this one. She’s put two of my guards into hospital. That bitch’s fucking feral.”

“That’s okay.” A feminine voice replied to the police officer in charge of your cell’s security.

The sound of the lock echoed in your small cage, soon followed by the metallic creaking of the heavy door that was keeping you from escaping. When the woman entered the cell, she could not help but frown and look at his colleague with genuine confusion. Police Officer Katlyn Wilson, a tall blonde woman with her hair cut short and her face as hard as her heart, had seen a lot throughout her career. But it is evident she did not expect what was awaiting for her in this cell: right in the middle of the room sat a young woman, in her mid-twenties, on the bed. She had a long white mane that cascaded down her lower back. A marvelous mane, dirtied by the cell’s dust and dampness. Kat Wilson shook her head: you could not be the dangerous inmate they called her for. She sighed, staring at your juvenile face.

“Heaven Lavey.”

You raised your head when she called your name, your aquamarine eyes burning with hatred. Yet, not the slightest sound came out of your mouth. All you did was stare at the officer.

“I am Kat Wilson, and I am here to bring you to the gallows by order of the crown.”

“They took my wedding ring.” You cut her off, your voice sounding a bit raspy after days of not talking. Somehow, you did not care about getting hung high — you were not afraid of death. What scared you though was to be alone, far away from Arthur.

“They did. They told me that was the reason behind your assault on the guards.”

“Only one of them. The other tried to touch me.”

“So you broke his wrist.” She replied straight away.

You fell back into silence, not wanting to talk about the mentioned incident. Officer Kat Wilson shook her head, astounded by the whole situation. As fierce as she was, she took no pleasure in sending a young girl to the rope, no matter the first-degree murder accusations. The tall blonde woman, whose severe traits inspired a natural authority, walk to the bed and sat next to you despite his colleague’s warning. She let out a long sigh and took off a little golden ring from the pocket of her jacket. Your face enlightened when you recognized the jewel.

“Unfortunately, my power vanishes at this prison’s gates. I cannot stop this execution, but I can give back the young bride’s ring.” As she talked, she put the ring in the palm of your hand and watched you close your grip around it.

“Fine.” You finally whispered as you slipped the jewel around your finger. What else could you do except obey? Any attempt of rebellion would result in failure. You got up from the bed, standing on your bare feet with all your little height.

So petite but so fierce, she thought.

“Fine,” Officer Wilson repeated. Gathering all her strength, she handcuffed you with your hands behind your back and, with one unexpectedly strong grip, led you out of the cell and forced you to walk through the long, dark corridors of the prison.

The sound of the guards’ boots resonated against the stone walls, contrasting with your own silent steps. Even if your heart raced in your chest, you managed to stay calm. Deprived of your man’s comfort, you tried to find your peace in small details:, the cold and smooth surface of the wood under your bare feet, the faint summer breeze coming from an opened window somewhere, the muffled sound of birds' whistles... All of these allowed you to keep a semblance of sanity.

Kat Wilson brought you to the gallows, which was in a dark wooden warehouse. You swallowed at the sight of the noose, slowly swinging from left to right as if every fiber of the rope itself shivered with impatience at the idea of tightening around your soft throat.

You climbed the stairs and each step felt like you were dancing tango on your broken dreams. The dull silence that was hovering above the warehouse was chilling, but you preferred it to the vain prayers of priests. No matter how hard they begged God, you knew your place was down there. Dying was bothering enough, there was no need to sprinkle the process with hypocrisy. A muffled cries came from the other room — they were going to hang another woman at the same time.

Polly, you thought.

When they put the deadly necklace of rope around your neck and narrowed it until its burning texture bit your skin, you inhaled deeply through your nostrils and stared right at Kate Wilson’s eyes. Here you stand, powerful even in your last moments.

Boom. Boom.

The deafening sound of your beating heart played the drums of the fanfare that was already announcing your arrival in Hell.

“Go ahead.” You closed your eyes.

You did not cry. You did not beg.

After all, it was always meant to end like this.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Gif by the lovely @alicent-targaryen

✞ Each of chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

Tag: @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybridrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @abyssal-whispers

#Shark❤️#This series is addictive #Poetically beautiful #Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders imagine #Heaven Shelby #Arthur shelby x ofc

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arvandus · 5 years ago

Text

A Quiet Kind of Love (ONESHOT)

WARNINGS: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Kirishima X Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: Prom night is here, and you can’t avoid it any longer. You’re going to have to confess to your best friend, a certain red-headed, shark-toothed man. But things don’t quite go as planned...

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

Kirishima stared at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him in a black suit, a deep red shirt and black tie, his hands nervously adjusting it once again. However, he was more focused on the red that dusted across his cheeks and the nervous glimmer that he saw in his own eyes.

Dear God, he hadn’t even left his room and he was already a mess of nerves. His mind kept circling back to a single thought: You would be there.

Granted, everyone would be there. It was prom, after all. Even more importantly, it would be the last major gathering for Class 3A before everyone graduated and moved on to work at different hero agencies. The finality of it almost brought tears to his eyes. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t keep in touch with his friends or continue to hang out after graduation, but no one could deny that life would be very different once their time at UA ended.

Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder if you would keep in touch with him. You were friends, of course, but as of late you’d lost some of that closeness and he wasn’t sure why. He had gotten so used to you being a presence in his life that when you suddenly began to become unavailable, he couldn’t help but wonder if he did something wrong. Sure, you always had a good reason for not being around. You had a huge report you had to write, or an interview to prepare for, or extended family visiting... the list of excuses went on and on. He had racked his brain trying to pinpoint the moment things changed between you two, but came up with nothing, which bothered him even more. All he wanted was to see you smile at him again, to hang out together late into the evening talking about everything and nothing, to send stupid text messages to each other. He felt your absence painfully and began to realize just how much you were a part of his life and how important you really were to him. His days were feeling empty without you.

He didn’t even know if you had a date tonight. The thought festered in his head and an uncharacteristic frown grew on his face. He knew that if you came with a date, that he would leave you alone and not bring up what’d been plaguing his mind the past few weeks. He was a gentleman after all, and he saw no point in chasing you down and cornering you to talk to him if you clearly weren’t interested. If, however, you were by yourself, then he promised himself that he would find a chance to talk to you.

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

Of course, little did he know, you were getting ready in your own room with thoughts of your own regarding the red-headed man. Contrary to him, however, you know exactly why you had made yourself scarce around him.

To put it quite frankly, you realized that you were in love with him. Not a crush, like what your friend Mina often went through. Not lust, although you couldn’t deny that you were definitely attracted to him. It was love, quiet and sneaky and unassuming. It found a warm place in your heart unbeknownst to you and grew there, fed by friendship, trust, and openness. You were so unaware of its presence that you couldn’t even really say or pinpoint when your feelings for him became love. Instead, it hit you by surprise one day, like finding a beautiful flower in your garden. You were hanging out with Kirishima and the others, everyone laughing and telling jokes (except for Bakugou of course, who hardly participated but never left). Sero was sharing a hilarious story from one of his internships when both you and Kirishima, laughing hysterically, made eye contact.

That was it. You’d looked at each other countless times in countless scenarios. But that time… that time all you could think about was how you didn’t want him to stop looking at you, how you wondered what his lips would feel like on yours.

After that moment, everything changed. Suddenly Kirishima occupied every thought in your waking and sleeping brain. That one moment was like a dam being broken, its turbulent watery torrents sweeping you away. You were remembering everything, every detail of your friendship with him. The way he always treated you with respect, the way he made you laugh, the way he let you cry on his shoulder when you had a bad day. Memory after memory flooded through you, each with new meaning to it. How he had held your hair for you the first time you drank too much. How he had checked on you when you got hurt in a fight. How he carried you back to the dorms, piggyback style, when you had sprained your ankle.

After that, you couldn’t bear to be around him. You began making yourself scarce, creating reasons why you couldn’t hang out with the gang, knowing he’d be there. That alone was difficult, since it required you to distance yourself from everyone, not just him. Kirishima texted you often to check in with you and talked to you during class, but you always did your best to reassure him everything was fine, even as you distanced yourself from him. You could tell it was taking a toll on your friendship, but at the time it seemed better to put a little bit of strain and hope it could bend under the pressure, instead of outright breaking it by confessing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around him. In fact, it was the opposite: you wanted to be around him too much. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore. You just needed time to get your feelings in check. You were terrified that you would either do something you’d regret, or he’d somehow read your mind and see what you were feeling. Sure, he had a reputation for being a little dense, but when it came to the two of you, there were hardly any secrets. You’d gotten so familiar with each other that you were in tune with each other’s mannerisms. One slip-up is all it would take.

That was what scared you the most. Kirishima was one of your closest friends, and you didn’t want to ruin that by confessing something to him that you were still struggling to understand. With the love, came the fear. The fear of not just rejection but of losing him entirely. So your brain replayed all of the ways that you loved him, all the things he did, and your brain callously took those memories and chalked them up to ‘well, he’s just a really nice guy’ and ‘that didn’t really mean anything, he was just doing what he thought was right.’ And then you felt guilty, as if you were betraying him somehow by taking all of the ways that he had been kind to you and putting them into a romantic context without his permission. Were you, in some strange way, betraying his trust? He had always been so kind and respectful to you because he valued you as a friend. So, shouldn’t you just continue to think of him the same way?

Easier said than done.

In all honesty, you weren’t planning on going to prom. You had a feeling he would be there, and you really couldn’t bear to face him again just yet. But Mina and Tsuyu convinced you to go, and you couldn’t let your friends down. You felt as if you were walking a tight rope across a ravine with no way out, just empty air on either side, and all it would take would be a single gust to make you fall down, down, down… there were no good choices. If you couldn’t get your feelings in check then you’d have to confess. You at least owed him that much. He deserved an explanation if things couldn’t go back to normal.

What if he had a date? The thought made your stomach drop to your toes and a lightheaded nausea swept over you as you braced yourself against your chair in your room. Just imagining it was painful. How could you even face him after that?

You blinked your eyes rapidly in an attempt to fight the wetness without ruining your makeup. There was no point in getting worked up on the what-ifs. Prepare for the worst but hope for the best.

You stared at your reflection one last time, taking in your appearance. How you styled your hair, how you styled your makeup, the dress you wore… black with a red floral design. You had realized too late that you had gravitated towards his color palette, but nothing could be done about it now. You wondered if he’d notice.

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

He noticed. In fact, it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you walk into the large auditorium, music blaring and lights flashing in beat to the music. Kirishima’s breath caught in his throat and he was grateful the poor lighting hid his blush. You arrived with the other girls of course, one big wave of colorful, feminine dresses.

Your eyes found his instantly and you froze. God, he looked good. Then you realized… you matched. Before you could organize your frazzled brain, he walked over with Bakugou, Sero, and Kaminari in tow.

“Hey!” He said with his signature smile, while the others greeted each other.

“H-Hey.” You replied, struggling to keep your voice casual.

“Long time no see.” He said.

“Yeah, sorry about that…” you offered a sheepish half-smile.

“It’s ok. You look nice!” Kirishima offered.

You averted your gaze in embarrassment. “��thanks. You too.” He’s just being nice, you thought.

“We match,” he pointed out teasingly.

Your words caught in your throat at his blatant comment, your mouth open like a fish as his words hit too close to home for you. You weren’t ready for it.

“Yeah. Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You forced out, before bolting away into the crowd, leaving Kirishima dumbfounded.

It wasn’t long before you found what you were looking for: the snack bar. You grabbed a water bottle and downed its contents before immediately grabbing the cup of popcorn and stuffing your face.

Why. Why did you do that?? Just run away from him like that?

You spotted Tsuyu approaching you out of the corner of your eye, and she gave you a knowing look. She was the only one who knew of your predicament, which you were grateful for. She was excellent at keeping a secret and always approached an issue with a level head.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“No… I’m such an idiot!” you seethed. “why did I run off like that?”

“He did look a little crushed…” She replied.

“Tsuyu!” you scolded. “Not helping!”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” she pointed out. “If he was sad that you left, then that means he wanted you to stick around.”

“Or he was sad because he thinks I hate him or something.” You replied, which didn’t sound much better. In fact, it sounded worse. “Geez, why did I even come to this.”

“Because if you didn’t then you’d regret it.” Tsuyu replied. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

“Well, you also miss 100% of the shots if you scare away your target.”

“Relax.” She soothed. “Just go back and hang out with the group. They won’t think anything of it.”

“I can’t.” you mumbled. “Not yet, anyway. I just… need time to adjust so I don’t say something stupid to him. Or worse, do something stupid. Ugh, Tsuyu, did you see how handsome he was? It’s not fair.”

Tsuyu grinned at your lovestruck expression. “Well, you can come hang out with Uraraka, Tenya, Midoriya and I if you’d like.” Tsuyu offered.

You gave a grateful smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Tsuyu. Just for a little bit.”

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

Kirishima shifted in his spot next to Bakugou as the two men leaned against the wall together. Mina, Sero and Kaminari has long-since abandoned them for the festivities when their repeated attempts to include them failed. Bakugou, of course, was mostly silent, casting his glare at every pretty girl that tried to ask him for a dance. Kirishima, on the other hand, couldn’t stop fidgeting as his thoughts ran wild.

You never came back.

His eyes spotted you multiple times across the dance floor as you danced with your other friends. You somehow never made eye contact with him, which only told him one thing: you weren’t looking for him. This in turn, led to another discovery: he probably scared you away.

“Dammit, what was I thinking?” he muttered to himself.

Bakugou gave Kirishima a side glance and followed his gaze to see you dancing on the dance floor. “What are you doing here, Shitty Hair?” he grumbled.

“What, me?” Kirishima exclaimed.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “No, the other Shitty Hair.”

Kirishima let Bakugou’s sarcasm slide over him. He gave a heavy sigh and hung his head, his brows furrowed together. “Watching my nonexistent love life go down the toilet.”

Bakugou’s face twitched in anger. “What kind of bullshit answer is that?!”

“What??”

“Aren’t you all about being ‘manly’?” Bakugou scolded. “How is giving up ‘manly’?”

“I’m not going to force myself on her.” Kirishima responded. “She practically ran away, you saw it earlier. I think it’s pretty obvious she’s not interested.”

“So fucking what!” Bakugou exclaimed. “If you don’t put yourself out there, then you’re just another extra. You don’t have to be a dick about it, but you can still talk to her. You won’t know for sure unless you do. Besides, if she rejects you, then it’s her fucking loss.”

Kirishima stared at him wide-eyed. “Wow, bro… that was… actually really nice of you.”

Bakugou scoffed and looked away. “Shut up. If you don’t go talk to her then I will.” He sneered.

Kirishima’s eyes widened. “No… that’s a terrible idea.”

“You’re damn right it is.” Bakugou grumbled. “So get the fuck off this wall and go be manly or whatever.”

Kirishima grinned at Bakugou’s pep-talk. He wasn’t going to deny that it stirred something in him. Kirishima prepared himself, squaring his shoulders, and setting his jaw before marching out onto the dance floor.

Of course, he only made it about halfway when he saw something that made him falter.

His ragtag friends managed to find you in the throng of people, led by Mina who waved you down. He watched as everyone exchanged greetings. When Kaminari greeted you with smiles and laughs, you smiled back at him and gave him a hug, your face lighting up in a way that stirred something in Kirishima. It stabbed him in his gut and twisted, making him feel nauseous and… angry?

Jealous. He was jealous. He wanted you to look at him like that. You used to look at him like that, like you were happy to have him around. You used to hug him when you greeted him, your arms wrapping around him in a playful squeeze. He missed it. He missed all of it, and there you were giving it freely to everyone else but him. You looked happy without him and the realization twisted like a knife.

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

When the squad first approached, your heart leapt into your throat as your eyes immediately scanned for the familiar spikey red hair. You didn’t see him though, or Bakugou for that matter. A confusing wave of relief and longing washed over you. You wanted to ask where he was, but you weren’t ready yet. You still didn’t know what you were going to say to him.

“So this is where you ran off to!” Mina exclaimed, as everyone exchanged hugs.

“What, are we not good enough for you?” Kaminari teased.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” You scoffed, punching his arm playfully and he grinned.

“It was my fault.” Tsuyu chimed in. “We got caught up talking at the snack bar then ended up hanging out over here with everyone.” The rest of the group behind her smiled and nodded in agreement.

“The snack bar, huh?” Sero teased.

You offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I skipped lunch and you know how I am about free food…”

“It’s cool. Why don’t we all hang together then?” Sero offered.

“Where’s Kacchan?” Midoriya asked.

Kaminari shrugged. “Being a wallflower as usual. Kirishima is keeping him company.”

Your eyes immediately scanned for him along the periphery, but from your position you couldn’t see much beyond the dancing people and flashing colors.

“Someone should probably rescue him…” Mina said pointedly as she locked eyes with you, and you knew immediately she wasn’t talking about Bakugou.

Your mouth went dry. She knew. Somehow, she figured it out. Well, maybe it wasn’t that hard to figure out, especially with her penchant for romance and your friendship with her. Still, the sudden discovery froze you like a deer in headlights. You loved Mina, but you had chosen not to tell her because she was also close friends with Kiri. She was a great friend and always meant well but you didn’t want her to try to play matchmaker before you were ready. You struggled to hide the guilty look on your face while she gave you a teasing grin and the slightest raise of an eyebrow.

Kaminari chimed in before you could speak. “Eh, I’m sure they’re fine. Besides, we tried, didn’t we? They both kept turning us down.”

“Maybe we can try again in a little bit.” You added, giving Mina a look of your own.

Soon. You were going to do it. But first you wanted to hang out with friends for a little bit longer, just in case things turned sour later. It’d been a while since you’d really hung out with everyone all at once. Besides, Kiri was such a social butterfly that you figured he’d show up soon anyway. Maybe that would be your cue to ask to talk privately. All you had to do was wait.

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

Kirishima froze in his tracks, unsure of what to do. He clenched his fists at his sides. This was stupid. How unmanly of him being jealous of your friendship with Kaminari. He reminded himself that there was nothing to worry about, and that it was all just a misunderstanding that had to be cleared up. You’d always been able to resolve any issues in the past, so why should this be any different?

He began to move forward when a slow song suddenly came on. He watched as Kaminari offered you his hand with an exaggerated flourish while Mina paired up with Sero. In utter mortification, Kirishima watched as you laughed and took it, allowing him to pull you into a slow dance with your proximity far too close for Kirishima’s taste. You continued to smile and laugh, and the crack in Kirishima’s armor fractured.

Like a wave of destruction, his insecurities and fears came crashing down on him. It felt like he was in middle school again, paralyzed and useless. Was he wrong? Did he miss something? He never noticed anything between you and Kaminari before. You’d never said anything to him about it, never even hinted at it. Sure, you and Kaminari joked around a lot, but it never seemed like anything else.

All this time, the past few months you’d been drifting away, he thought it had to do with him, that it was something he’d unintentionally broken that he’d be able to fix if he could just get a chance to talk to you. He had so much he wanted to say.

Instead, a worse realization came to the forefront of his mind: What if this had nothing to do with him? What if he was losing you and it was beyond his control? Was this how friendships drifted apart? Did he already lose you?

He wanted to disappear, to let the earth swallow him whole. He could feel hot tears brimming his eyes. He tried to will them away, but he couldn’t. Instead, his feet carried him swiftly off the dance floor and out the double doors.

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

Bakugou saw the whole thing from his perch and swore. “Fuck.”

He stomped his way through the throng of people, not caring who he bumped shoulders with, earning a few glares until his peers realized who he was.

“What a bunch of fucking morons.” He grumbled.

He reached you and Kaminari and without a word he grabbed Kaminari by the ear and began dragging him away.

“Hey, what the hell man?!” Kaminari shouted.

You stood there dumbfounded before you furrowed your brow in anger. “Bakugou, knock it off!” You yelled. The space around your group was swiftly opening up as others distances themselves from the drama unfolding.

Bakugou pointed an accusing finger at you. “Shut up.” He demanded, his face scrunched up in anger.

You stood there dumbfounded. It wasn’t the first time Bakugou spoke to you roughly, but this time was different. There was no underlying teasing to bring warmth to his harsh words. Instead, the words were like an icy whiplash. He meant them, and he was pissed.

He turned to Kaminari. “And you! Are you really that fucking dense, dunce face??”

“Dude, what are you talking about??” Kaminari demanded, confusion written all over his face. “Bro, are you jealous?”

Bakugou’s face turned red with anger and his hands started to smoke. The gap between the group and the other students grew wider. A single thought occupied the forefront of your brain – where was Kirishima? He was always the best at calming Bakugou’s temper.

“You think I’m jealous??” Bakugou spat.

Sero chimed in to try to mitigate. “It was just a dance, Bakugou!”

“Tell that to Kirishima, you idiot!” Bakugou snapped.

You suddenly felt lightheaded and your legs turned to jelly. Realization began to dawn on you.

“W-what…?” You stuttered, and suddenly you could feel all eyes on you. But it didn’t matter because you only wanted to know one thing. “Where is Kirishima??”

Bakugou scrutinized you with his glare. “He fucking left.” Your breath caught in your throat and your heart pounded in your chest painfully as Bakugou continued. “He was coming over to talk to you but left when it looked like you two were hooking up!”

“What?!” Kaminari exclaimed. “We weren’t hooking up! No offense, Y/N.”

You put your face in your hands. “No! No, no, no. This is all wrong. I was going to talk to him, I just didn’t know how, I… I…” tears started to spill down your cheeks.

‘He cares. He cares, and I just completely hurt him!’ Your thoughts echoed on repeat in your mind. You could feel the panic boiling inside you, sucking away your breaths. You began gasping for air, the auditorium suddenly feeling far too small and too hot.

Suddenly, you felt Mina’s comforting hand on your shoulder blade, grounding you.

“It’s okay.” She said softly. “There’s still time. We can find him.”

You nodded and wiped your tears with the napkin that Uraraka handed to you.

Immediately the hunt began. More than half of class 3A exited through the double doors to begin searching the building for Kirishima. Everyone split off into groups, with you being followed by Mina and Tsuyu. Bakugou teamed up with Sero and Kaminari, and Tenya, Uraraka and Midoriya formed their own search party.

As you and your two friends searched, Mina began her round of twenty questions.

“So, how long?” she asked.

“What?” you replied, distractedly as you checked the empty cafeteria.

“How long have you been in love with Kirishima?”

Your brow furrowed. “I don’t know… a while? Since the beginning of the semester was when I realized it, but maybe it was sooner than that.”

“And that’s why you stopped coming around as much?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just… didn’t want to ruin my friendships with everyone. Especially him.” You felt the familiar lump form in your throat again. “Looks like I might be too late, though.”

“You should give him more credit than that.” Mina reassured. “He’s one of the most loyal and forgiving people I know.”

You clenched your jaw as your pace quickened. You only hoped that she was right.

Everyone searched high and low. The classrooms, the rooftops, the training fields… Kirishima was nowhere to be found.

An hour had passed with no success before everyone reconvened outside the auditorium, the music inside still loud, the hum of thousands of voices inside chattering and laughing. It felt almost cruel hearing everyone else having such a good time, completely oblivious of the catastrophe unfolding before your eyes. How could you have fucked this up so badly?

“Maybe he came back and he’s inside looking for you.” Tsuyu offered.

“He’s not in there, I checked.” Bakugou replied.

“So… do we keep looking?” Sero asked.

“He’s not responding to his text messages.” Bakugou said. “If he doesn’t want to be found, then we should leave him alone.”

You felt the defeat heavy on your shoulders. “It’s okay. You all should go back to the dance and enjoy it. You shouldn’t waste your night trying to fix my mess.”

“We wanted to help.” Midoriya replied, offering a kind smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. But this night isn’t just about me, so you guys go have fun. I’m… I’m gonna go back to the dorms.” You replied as you felt fresh tears filling your eyes again. The lump in your throat felt like you were trying to swallow a rock. You needed to get out of here, to go home and be by yourself so you could break down completely.

“There’s always tomorrow.” Kaminari offered, but his words, while meant to be helpful, only left you feeling hollow.

“Y-yeah.” You replied. “Have a good night, everyone.” Before the tears spilled over, you began your solitary trek back to the dorms, your shoes in your hands. Your feet were killing you now from all of the running around you had done, and you had fresh blisters on your heels.

Or, the trek was supposed to be alone. It didn’t take long to realize that Bakugou was following you. You paused and turned to him, a confused expression on your face.

“Aren’t you going to stay?”

Bakugou scoffed. “Hell, no.” he replied. “I hate shit like this.”

You weren’t so convinced. Maybe he was planning on following you back to see if Kirishima was at the dorms.

“You’re a good friend.” You commented as you began walking again.

“Hah??” he replied. He frowned and looked away as a blush creeped across his cheeks. He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “Don’t try to get on my good side.”

“I’m not!” you protested. “I’m just glad that Kirishima has someone like you he can count on.”

You walked in silence for a bit, guilt gnawing at you before you spoke up again. “I’m sorry I messed everything up.”

“You people make shit too complicated.” Bakugou grumbled. “You just gotta say what you mean.”

“I wish I had your confidence. You make it sound so easy.” You replied.

“It’s not easy.” Bakugou said as he stared straight ahead. You waited for him to say more, but he never did. Instead, the two of you fell into a somewhat comfortable silence as you approached the dorms.

It didn’t take long to recognize the figure sitting on the front steps of the building, and you faltered in your steps, your breath hitching in your throat. He was here. This whole time, he was right here. You had thought he might come here, but you had assumed he would have gone inside to his room… you didn’t expect to see him. He sat with his knees drawn up, propping up his arms that held his head tucked into them. Kirishima lifted his head when he heard Bakugou’s footfalls and froze when his eyes met yours. It was hard to read his expression from this distance in the middle of the night. But even from here you could see how handsome he was; the broadness of his muscled shoulders straining against his suit blazer; his tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck; his collarbone peeking out from the undone top button of his shirt. It felt like electricity was coursing through your veins. Just the sight of him was enough to give you life.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Bakugou said quietly to you and continued walking, ignoring the fact that you were no longer following him.

As he passed Kirishima, he placed a hand on his shoulder briefly, giving it a squeeze. Kirishima gave him a confused look as Bakugou went into the dorms, closing the door behind him.

You paused for a moment, feeling the pull of the man in front of you, like two magnets being held apart. It was painful. You forced your legs forward until you were close enough that you could read his expression. His eyes were downcast again onto the ground, but you could see the hurt in them.

Kirishima spoke first, his voice low and strained. “Did… did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you in some way and not know it?” he asked. He finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours and you gasped. His eyes were slightly red, and his cheeks shined under the entryway lights. He had been crying. You made Kirishima cry.

You dropped your shoes and rushed forward, closing the distance between you two. You put your hands on his forearms that rested on his knees. “No! God, no. Kiri, I’m so sorry.” You replied, tears spilling down your own cheeks.

“Then why?” he asked, straightening his back and drawing his arms away from your touch. “You’ve stopped talking to me, you don’t really smile at me… you barely even look at me.”

“I… I realized something about myself and I didn’t know how to handle it.” You replied, drawing your hands back from his rejection and wrapping your arms around your core protectively.

Kirishima stood up and looked down at you from his perch on the steps. “What did you realize?” The deepness of his voice, the way it reverberated through the space between you made goosebumps crawl across your skin.

You stared at his face, drinking in the details. The color of his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his teeth… it’d been a long time since you’d been this close to him and it felt like basking in warm sunlight on a spring day after a long, dark winter. Your eyes traced over his features before finally landing on his wet cheeks. Instinctively, you brought a hand up and rubbed your thumb across his cheek, smearing the moisture away. His own hand, larger than yours, warm and calloused, came up and covered yours.

You averted your eyes down to his chest in embarrassment. You didn’t know why you were still nervous. Perhaps it was the finality of it, of saying it out loud.

Your hand followed your eyes, slipping from his fingers to rest on his chest. You were strangely aware of the soft texture of his shirt, and you absently fiddled with his loose tie. “I love you.” You finally said, just barely above a whisper. “I have for a while.”

“You do?” he replied, his voice laced with surprise. “But what about Kaminari?”

“What??”

“Earlier. I dunno, it just looked…” You watched as he looked away, a blush across his cheeks.

“Like we were dancing?” you replied.

“Yeah, well… you looked happy. Happier than I’d seen you in a long time.” He confessed.

“I was happy to spend time with my friends, and Kaminari is a funny guy. But I don’t have feelings for him.” You explained. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how it must have looked. Honestly, I didn’t even know you were paying attention.”

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?”

“Well, I figured you might, I don’t know… hate me or something.” You wiggled your bare toes as you looked down at them.

“What??” Kirishima sounded angry now, and you whipped your gaze up to look at him. “Why would you think I hate you? You stopped talking to me!”

“I know!” your voice raising to meet his. “So, I’d understand if you’d hate me! I’ve handled this whole thing like crap, and I’m so sorry. You deserve better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” his voice softened, which you were grateful for. You could tell he didn’t want to fight, and neither did you.

“I was afraid. You’re my best friend and if you didn’t feel the same, well… I was afraid of losing you.”

His hand once again grabbed your fidgeting one, his touch soft and gentle. “I could never hate you.”

Deep down, you knew he was right. The man didn’t have a hateful bone in his body. “I know.” You breathed, your eyes downcast again.

“And you won’t lose me.” He said. Your eyes met his again, and you were captivated as you watched the next words fall from his lips, “I love you too.”

And just like that, time moved forward again and air was filling your lungs. Your first real smile in months spread across your face.

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” You joked.

Kirishima chuckled and placed his free hand on your jawline, cradling you as his thumb softly stroked your cheek. He dipped his head down, his lips capturing yours in their warmth.

Your mind went blank, washed away in the sensation of Kirishima. He was everywhere. His arm held you flush against him, his mouth molded with yours, his hand on your neck. You could smell his scent from his clean shirt to his shampoo to something that was so distinctly him. You could taste him on your lips. It took every ounce of strength not to collapse right then and there. This was it. This was all you ever wanted, all you ever thought about. It was everything you hoped it would be and more. You couldn’t stop the sappy smile and the bubble of laughter that came from your core, breaking the kiss.

Kirishima smiled down at you, full and bright. He still held you in his arms. “That was awesome.” He breathed.

“We should do it again.” You grinned.

But before you could lean in for a second round, you heard familiar voices behind you.

“Ho Ho! It looks like everything worked out after all!” Sero teased.

“I knew it would!” Mina chimed in. “Love always wins!”

Kaminari rushed to Kirishima. “Bro! I am so sorry! I had no idea!”

“Dude, it’s cool.” Kirishima laughed.

“Nah, you were supposed to dance with her! I ruined your prom! I’m so sorry!” Kaminari cried.

“Get a grip, man…” Sero chided, as Mina started to drag Kaminari away.

“We got him…” she reassured. “He’ll be fine.”

You chuckled with amusement as you watched your friends drag the blonde man through the dormitory door, his cries silenced as the door closed. Your smile faltered.

“He’s right…” you said quietly.

Kirishima gave you a curious look. “Who?”

“Kaminari. We did miss our prom. We wouldn’t have missed it if I didn’t mess everything up. I’m sorry.” You replied.

He continued, “I don’t really think tonight was ruined, do you?”

You scratched at your cheek. “Well, I was hoping to at least get a dance in with you…”

Kirishima laughed. “I’m terrible at dancing, you know that.”

You smiled. “It wouldn’t have mattered to me… anyway, a slow dance isn’t so bad, right?”

“A slow dance, huh? You want a slow dance?” a mischievous grin showed off his sharp teeth and he pulled you into his arms, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your hand out in his.

“Kirishima, what’re you…?”

Suddenly, he began to sing. It was a song you didn’t know and to be honest, he was a terrible singer. But as he sang, his voice heavy with vibrato, he swayed the two of you back and forth, each dance move exaggerated until he was spinning you and dipping you. Laughter bubbled up, starting low in your gut and spilling out of your mouth, filling the night with your sound. Kirishima grinned, loving it, loving the look of you here and happy with him, dancing barefoot to his terrible singing.

And when that was done, the two of you entered the main entrance of the dorms, with your shoes in Kirishima’s hand while his other hand held yours. You both were still riding the high of all that had happened, and you both knew that sleep was an impossibility despite the late hour. So instead, the two of you cuddled up on the couch in the common room, talking late into the early morning about anything and everything. All the things you had missed with each other when you were apart, all the ways you realized you loved each other, and how things would progress now that your futures were joined together. As you both quieted down into each other’s arms, basking in the presence of each other, drowsiness fell over both of you like a blanket, warm and safe, until you both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

#bnha fanfic #bnha imagine #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #bnha #mha #mha fanfic #reader is bad at feelings

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friendlyneighborhoodpsyop · 3 years ago

Text

Quotes about Kaz Brekker:

Every act of violence was deliberate, and every favor came with enough strings attached to stage a puppy show.

The boy called Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason any more than he needed permission.

He was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges.

“Who’d deny a poor cripple his cane?” “If the cripple is you, then any man with sense.”

“I’m a business man,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“I’m not here for a taste. You want a war, I’ll make sure you eat your fill.”

The boy he’d been talking to had been cocky, reckless, easily amused, but not frightening—not really. Now the monster was here, dead-eyed and unafraid. Kaz Brekker was gone, and Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, Brekker.” “I will,” said Kaz, “if there’s any justice in the world. And we all know how likely that is.”

“Well I’m the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel.”

Inej was always trying to wring little bits of decency from him. “When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“Greed is your god, Kaz.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.” “And what god do you serve, then?” “Whichever will grant me good fortune.”

“What’s the difference wagering at the Crow Club and speculating on the floor of the Exchange?” “One is theft and the other is commerce.” “When a man loses his money, he may have trouble telling them apart.”

“You’re a blackmailer—“. “I broker information.” “A con artist—“. “I create opportunity.” “A bawd and a murderer—“. “I don’t run whores, and I kill for a cause.”

“You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those that take the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach—the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate thing.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” “Each more grotesque than the last.” Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone—a single brush of bare skin caused your flesh to whither and die. “Pick one. They’re all true enough.”

Kaz was not a giddy boy smiling and making plans for a future with her. He was a dangerous player who was always working an angle.

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”

Brick by brick. It was a promise that let him sleep at night, the drove him everyday, that kept Jordie’s ghost at bay.

Kaz’s servant, greed, luring them South like a piper with a flute in hand.

“Being angry at Kaz for being ruthless is like being angry at a stove for being hot. You know what he is.”

“I wouldn’t trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces.”

Matthias knew monsters, and one glance at Kaz had told him this was a creature who had spent too long in the dark—he’d brought something back with him when he’d crawled into the light.

“The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.” “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

“I don’t want to die.” “I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you.”

“You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

Matthias suspected that Brekker would drag the girl back from hell himself if he had to.

He’d gifted her her first blade, the one she called Sankt Petyr—not as pretty as wild geraniums, but more practical.

“Kaz told me...he said it was my choice, that he wouldn’t be the one to mark me again.”

Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to your for two days.

He needed to know she believed in him.

“What to do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

Kaz would always remember that moment, when he’d seen greed take hold of his brother, an invisible hand guiding him forward, the lever at work.

There could be no judgement from a boy known as Dirtyhands.

“Let’s say the mark is a tourist walking through the barrel. He’s heard it’s a good place to get rolled, so he keeps patting his wallet, making sure it’s there, congratulating himself on just how alert and cautious he’s being. No fool he. Of course every time he pats his back pocket or front of his coat, what’s he doing? He’s telling every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub.”

It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.

He’d heard there were sharks in these waters but they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.

He’d imagined his death a thousand ways, but never sleeping through it.

It was as if once Kaz had seen her, he’d understood how to keep seeing her.

“If it were a trick, I’d promise you safety. I’d offer you happiness. I don’t know if that exists in the barrel, but you’ll find none of it with me.” Better terrible truths than kind lies.

He knew he was being reckless, selfish, but wasn’t that why they called him Dirtyhands? No job too risky. No deed too low. Dirtyhands would see the rough work done.

A good magician wasn’t much different than a proper thief.

She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

“Some people see a magic trick and say, ‘Impossible!’ They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good nights sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for the skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind”

“You love trickery.” “I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.”

“Do you know the secret to gambling, Helvar? Cheat.”

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not been healed wrong. There was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in the world. She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

You’ve cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

He needed to tell her...what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her.

“Saints, Kaz, you actually look happy.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. But there was no mistaking it. Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

“I can hear the change in Kaz’s breathing whenever he looks at you.” “You...you can?” “It catches every time, like he’s never seen you before.”

“How will you have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

“I’m not big on bluffing, am I, Inej?” “Not as a rule.” “And why is that?” “Because he’d rather cheat.”

Inej wanted Kaz to become someone else, a better person, a gentler thief. But that boy had no place here. That boy ended up starving in an alley. He ended up dead. That boy couldn’t get her back. I’m going to get my money, and I’m going to get my girl.

“A proper thief is like a proper poison. He leaves no trace.”

There were no good men in Ketterdam, Kaz said. The climate didn’t agree with them.

“If you don’t care about money, Nina dear, call it by it’s other names.” “Kruge? Scrub? Kaz’s one true love?” “Freedom, security, retribution.”

“It’s pragmatic. If I were cruel, I’d give him a eulogy instead of a conversation.”

“You haven’t been alive long enough to rack up your share of sin.” “I’m a quick study.”

Patience, he reminded himself. He’d practiced it early and often. Patience would bring all his enemies to their knees in time.

“You’ve got the devil’s own blood in you, boy.”

Kaz was going to have to find a new language of suffering to teach that smug merch son of a bitch.

“I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together—knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”

“My mother is Ketterdam. She birthed me in the harbor. My father is profit. I honor him daily.”

Desperate for some sign that he might open himself to her, that they could be more than two creatures united by their distrust of the world.

They could continue on with their armor intact. She would have her ship and he would have his city.

Sure, a lock was like a woman. It was also like a man and anyone or anything else—if you wanted to understand it, you had to take it apart and see how it worked. If you wanted to master it, you had to learn it so well you could put it back together.

He always liked returning to a home or business he’d had cause to visit before. It wasn’t just the familiarity. It was as if by returning, he laid claim to a place. We know each other’s secrets, the house seemed to say. Welcome back.

“When people see a cripple walking down the street, leaning on his cane, what do they feel? They feel pity. Now, what do they think when they see me coming?” “They think they’d better cross the street.”

“We can endure a lot of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”

“I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges, Rollins.”

It was as if Kaz had a secret map of Ketterdam that showed the city’s forgotten spaces.

“I’ve taken knives, bullets, and too many punches to count, all for a little piece of this town. This is the city I bled for. And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it’s that you can always bleed a little more.”

Was Johannus Rietveld meant to be his Jakob Hertzoon? Or had it been some way of resurrecting the family he’d lost? Did it even matter?

“I wreak all the havoc I can until my luck runs out, use our haul to build an empire.” “And after that?” “Who knows? Maybe I’ll burn it to the ground.”

Tell her to get out, a voice inside him demanded. Beg her to stay.

Kaz thought he knew the language of pain intimately, but this ache was new. It hurt to stand here like this, so close to the circle of her arms.

“These things don’t wash away with prayer, Wraith. There is no peace waiting for me, no forgiveness, not in this life, not in the next.”

Two of the deadliest people the barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both keeling over.

A black glass boy of deadly edges.

A bit of entertainment, the dramatic end of Kaz Brekker, the humbling of Dirtyhands. But this was no cheap comedy. It was a bloody rite, and Per Haskell had let the congregation gather, never realizing the real performance had yet to begin. Kaz stood upon his pulpit, wounded, bruised, and ready to preach.

“You have two minutes to get out of my house, old man. This city’s price is blood, and I’m happy to pay with yours.”

“What is wrong with him,” Nina grumbled. “Same thing that’s always wrong with him. He’s Kaz Brekker.”

“Rich men want to believe they deserve every penny they’ve got, so they forget what they owe to chance. Smart men are always looking for loopholes. They want an opportunity to game the system. The toughest mark is an honest man. Thankfully, they’re always in short supply.”

“Well, Brekker, it’s obvious you only deal in half truths and outright lies, so you’re clearly the man for the job.”

“What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie?” “Who’s Jordie?” “Someone I trusted. Someone I didn’t want to lose.”

He put his gloves back on and didn’t take them off. He became twice as ruthless, fought twice as hard. He stopped worrying about seeming normal, let people see a glimmer of the madness within him and let them guess at the rest.

The rage inside him burned on and he learned to despise people who complained, who begged, who claimed they’d suffered. Let me teach you what pain looks like, he would say, and then he’d paint a picture with his fists.

That was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.

“I will kill you, Brekker. I will kill everything you love.” “The trick is not to love anything.”

“Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”

She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It’s a smile he thought he might die to earn again.

“He doesn’t say goodbye. He just lets go.”

“Ketterdam is made of monsters. I just happen to have the longest teeth.”

#soc #kaz brekker #quotes

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Good Omens - “Plot Twist” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Embroiled in the aftermath of two very messy break-ups, Crowley and Aziraphale are preparing to film their first love scene together. But how do you pretend to be in love when your love life is falling apart?

It probably doesn't hurt to be in love with your co-star. (2318 words)

Notes: So I made the chauffeur young Shadwell, but patterned after young Michael McKean, who I was desperately in love with back in the day XD Human au, ineffable wives, mention of past Aziraphale/Gabriel, mostly just fluff

Read on AO3.

“Ooo, I get a limo this time. Fancy, fancy,” Crowley mumbles, not nearly as impressed as she’s pretending to be. She’d much rather drive herself in her own Bentley and in her own sweet arse time. But she needs to keep up appearances.

There are always two eyes and a camera lens on her at any given moment.

Even though it’s the literal buttcrack of dawn, she’s not alone. There are about thirty asshats, armed with cameras, camped out on her doorstep, climbing over each other to snap a candid of her for the gossip sites. A photo of her emerging from her rented townhouse fresh-faced and ready for another day on set will fetch an easy hundred pounds.

But if she looks like she rolled out of bed, drank a bottle of whiskey for breakfast, then fell down a flight of stairs, landing face-first onto a mountain of cocaine? Those pictures would fetch considerably more.

That’s what she gets for going through a horrendous break-up while having the nerve to be rich and famous.

She thought that when the production moved filming away from London and out to California, the buzz surrounding her personal affairs would die down. On the contrary. It seemed to get worse, in part because the states don’t have the same paparazzi laws the UK does.

She can’t sit down to take a proper shit without seeing a flash pop off.

Despite how she feels about her life at the moment, she went for class over crass. She shies away from hard drugs, and she can't justify looking less than her best, especially in public.

She refuses to let anyone see her sweat.

“Antonia! Antonia! Over here!” the pariahs beckon, some of them whistling for her attention like she’s a dog. “Antonia! Hey, Crowley!”

Crowley.

That’s the one that gets to her - burrows into the roots of her teeth and makes her head pulsate with rage. It keeps her feet moving when she might have stopped to exchange a polite hello, given out an autograph. And the sick thing is these vultures probably realize that.

That’s why they keep doing it.

Who talks to people like that? When did it become acceptable to bellow out someone’s last name as a means of getting their attention? Is it too much to ask for them to shove a ‘Mrs.’ in front of it? Have these glorified stalkers forgotten that, if it weren’t for her and stars like her, the only jobs they could get would be snapping photos of families at Legoland for minimum wage?

Ugh.

Too much thinking too early in the morning.

She could write an entire essay on how much she loathes pap culture, but today, she can’t be bothered caring.

She’s filming one of the most anticipated scenes of her whole career on one of the worst days of her life.

That’s the hurdle she needs to focus on.

She slaps on a smile and waves, sliding her glasses down her nose only far enough so they can’t see how red her eyes have gotten from crying.

“Oh, ‘ello, loves! I didn’t see you all here! So nice of you to greet me at 5:30 on this fine winter morning! Oh, careful there. You spilled your coffee. And I think you just kicked that poor lad in the face. You wanna give him a hand up there? He’s bleedin’ all over the pavement.”

Crowley greets her guests this way every morning, killing them with kindness, as subtle an eff you as she can come up with when her brain cells have yet to kick in for the day.

Coffee. She needs coffee. About a gallon-and-a-half of it.

And a shot of bourbon might be nice.

Crowley glides through the crowd, an angelfish among sharks, and comes out unscathed.

A man with brown hair, pale skin, and striking blue eyes, wearing a fitted, black uniform tailored to within an inch of its life, opens the car door for her as she approaches.

"Good morning, Mrs. Crowley."

“Good morning, Mr. Shadwell. It's nice to see you.” Crowley slides into the car, thankful when the chauffeur shuts the door. She sinks into the leather seat and tosses her sunglasses aside. “God!" she moans, burying her face in her hands. "I don't want to do this! I want to stay home, eat ice cream, and drink tremendous amounts of alcohol! I definitely don’t want to be snogging anyone today!”

Aziraphale, who had been waiting patiently with a small box of assorted cookies and wearing a sympathetic smile, frowns. “Wow. Thank you, my dear.”

Crowley's head snaps up, her face splotchy, and red enough to rival her hair in seconds. “Aziraphale! I am so sorry! I didn’t know you were …! That’s not what I meant!" She takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. "It's not you, angel. I swear it isn’t. I just don’t feel particularly romantic today.”

“It’s all right. I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

Crowley squares Aziraphale with a stern look. “Wow. Thank you.”

Aziraphale ducks her eyes, her cheeks turning pink as she offers Crowley a cookie from the box. She wonders if Aziraphale made them herself. She often does bake to pass the time. So much so that she's become quite good at it.

Life hasn’t been treating her too kindly, either.

The cookies are delicate little things, intricately frosted in red, green, and white, decorated as bells and angels and snowflakes in honor of Christmas.

Because it’s Christmas.

Crowley is having the worst day of her life a week before Christmas.

Sigh.

There is usually champagne, no matter what vehicle the studio sends to pick them up. She wonders where it’s gone, searching about for it. Crowley and Aziraphale rarely avail themselves to it, preferring to wait till after the shooting day is done to have a nightcap.

But today, it feels like a necessity.

Leave it to the studio to not provide them a bottle of bubbly on the one day Crowley longs to drown in it.

“I didn’t know Shadwell was picking you up first,” Crowley says, starting small talk to ease the tension. Crowley and Aziraphale don’t usually have trouble making small talk.

Today is an exception.

“Well ...” Aziraphale clears embarrassment from her throat “... I was just … you know … a few blocks down the way.”

Crowley sits up further, leans forward with interest. “So you did it. You left him. You left Gabriel.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replies quietly. “I couldn’t stay. Not after …” She stops and sniffles, turning her head to hide eyes that must be as red as Crowley’s. Crowley doesn’t know.

She only ever notices how incredible they are.

Crowley rests a comforting hand on Aziraphale’s knee. “I know.”

“Yeah,” Aziraphale says with a slightly bitter laugh. “So does the whole world. In fact, the photogs knew I was leaving before I knew. You should have seen it. I could barely get past them.”

Crowley pulls a box of tissues out of the side panel and offers her co-star one. “They’re bottom feeders. The lot of them. Try to ignore them.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know,” Crowley repeats, feeling exceptionally useless. She’s in the exact same boat, but her heart hurts more for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale doesn’t deserve what she's going through. She doesn’t deserve such a public break-up.

She doesn’t deserve having her name drug all over social media by an emotionally manipulative bastard who thinks he's God's gift.

Crowley gazes out the window at the sky above. The forecast said it would be clear and sunny today, but it’s cloudy and grey. It matches Crowley's mood. Everything is cloudy and grey.

Well, maybe not everything.

The cookie she's eating isn’t. It’s sweet and crisp and melts in her mouth. It puts a smile on her face.

That helps.

Aziraphale helps, too.

Even gloomy, melancholy Aziraphale helps.

Just being in Aziraphale's presence helps.

“Living in the public eye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it, my dear?” Aziraphale asks, though it sounds as much like a statement to herself as a question for Crowley.

“Not on days like today. But that’s the trade-off for being a star, I suppose.”

“Would you ever give it up?” Aziraphale asks, taking a nibble of her Madeleine.

“I can’t say I would. You?”

“Nnnn ... no."

"There isn't anything else you wanted to do?" Crowley asks, latching on to her hesitation. "Not even when you were younger?"

"Well ..." Aziraphale bobs her head back and forth. "To be honest, I have always wanted to own my own bookshop. Or perhaps work in a library. But that's only if acting didn't work out. Acting has given me so many opportunities I could never have dreamed of. And all the great people I've met? I mean, this is what? The fifth film we’ve starred in together?”

“It is."

Aziraphale chuckles. "Some of them have been real winners."

"I know! The roles you get offered when you're just starting out are criminal! Let’s see, we’ve been rogue enemy agents from different factions …”

“High school frenemies …”

“Alien co-conspirators …”

“Jealous rivals …”

“And now … lovers.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale says bashfully. “And today …”

Crowley smiles. “We get together for the first time.”

Hearing Crowley say it makes Aziraphale’s heart race, her pulse thrumming so fast it disappears.

The day Aziraphale found out she’d gotten the role of Crowley’s love interest and not the ‘jealous ex’ (the role her agent originally pitched for her since they play adversaries so well) was a dream come true. The studio felt the two of them could take their insane sexual tension (the studio's words, not Aziraphale's, although she doesn't disagree) and use it to fuel the plot of their latest 'friends-to-lovers' rom-com.

Aziraphale has always wanted to be a leading lady. Deep down, she prayed that her first time, she'd play opposite Crowley. Now that it has finally happened, the role of her dreams comes with the greatest perk in the universe - an intimate moment with Antonia.

In front of about three dozen crew members, but still.

It's Aziraphale's chance to indulge her crush, which she plans to savor since it may not come around again.

Not in the way Aziraphale wants.

As friendly as Crowley is to her, as flirty as she can be, Aziraphale doesn't know for sure whether Crowley shares her feelings.

“If you don't mind my asking, when did she tell you?” Aziraphale asks.

“She didn’t." Crowley snorts humorlessly. "I woke up, and she was gone. I thought she had left for work. She had a table reading at six that morning, so I wasn’t immediately suspicious. Not until I started noticing important things were missing - clothes, toiletries, her contact lenses, her laptop …”

"Did she tell you why she was leaving?"

Crowley chews her lower lip at the question she'd known was coming ... the answer she's debating whether or not to give. "Eventually." She glances up at Aziraphale, flashes a sly grin, and decides to go for broke. “She left because she thought I was falling in love with my co-star.”

"Really?" And just like that, Aziraphale dies, her heart shrinking into nothing and blowing away on the wind. "W-which one?" she asks, solely for conversation's sake.

This time, when Crowley snorts, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from spraying crumbs all over the interior of the limo, it's genuine. "You, you gumball!"

"Oh. Oh!" Aziraphale’s expression of shock is so endearing, Crowley can’t look at it too long. There's a glow about her. It's like staring into the sun. “That's ... that’s funny. Gabriel broke up with me for the same reason. Because of ... you. At least, that's the excuse he gave on Twitter ... and Instagram ... and Facebook.” Aziraphale's glow dims as she talks about her ex. Their relationship, and separation, weren’t as civil as Crowley’s. In reality, trouble had been brewing behind the scenes for a while.

She’s glad they finally went their separate ways, but it stings just the same, finding out that someone you once loved, who you thought loved you back, just wanted someone to push around. To control.

"That is funny. Not funny ha-ha. Just ... funny. Who would have thunk?" Crowley goes back to her cookie, taking small bites while keeping an eye on Aziraphale.

Aziraphale glances out the window as the limo slows, approaching the gates to the studio lot. Crowley doesn't follow Aziraphale's gaze.

She doesn't need to.

She knows what Aziraphale sees by the way her face falls.

Aziraphale had hoped they could slip in quietly, but there's already a mob three feet deep waiting for them. The photographers and fans won't be able to see a thing through the car's windows. The tint on them is darker than dark. Still, the whole lot will be on high alert with them here.

Inevitably, a handful will slip in.

They may even find their way on set.

Aziraphale doesn't have the energy to deal with that.

Not today.

“How are we going to get through it?" Aziraphale asks. "Filming this scene? The timing is ... uncanny, to say the least.”

“Think of it this way …” Crowley slides across to Aziraphale’s side, sits as close as they're both comfortable with. Crooking a finger beneath her chin, Crowley draws Aziraphale's attention away from the gathering crowd and over to her eyes instead “… we get to spend the entire afternoon making each other feel better. That's how we're going to get through this. Agreed?”

Aziraphale’s eyes lower, flicker to Crowley's lips unintentionally. When they travel back up, she notices Crowley's eyes do the same. She swallows hard. At this distance from Crowley, from her mouth, Aziraphale only has the wherewithal to say one word. She makes it count. "Agreed."

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable wives #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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ASKS

Hello again, asks are compiled under the cut. Please block the tag #shorkbrian answers a lot of asks# If you’d prefer not to see these types of posts from me. If I haven’t answered your ask, it’s because I’m saving it for a thirst, drabble, or fic.

I don’t ignore asks, but sometimes getting around to them overwhelms me lol. pls accept my apologies lol k here we go

I am very glad, I legit was so scared that it was too long and that it’d be disappointing bc the smut wasn’t super IN YOUR FACE yknow? But man am I glad to hear that.

I’m looking directly @ you

Someone noticed omg!!! A lot of times I just put whatever song I played on repeat while writing that fit, but I have a *yandere* playlist that I listen to and it gets me going. Ty for noticing!!!

I’ve considered opening them permanently but I just... idek. I’d have to start deleting or ignoring the requests I don’t vibe with and Idk how to handle that lol. But thanks for the well wishes, hope your next few months treat you well friend!

Watermelon sugar why

Srsly you’re sweet but just wait until I start to really get going with all my nasty kinks okay, then you’ll be rethinking this strategy hunty lol!

I literally stalk @.vermiliren and @.kazooli and @.seita lol. Maybe when I get my blog more cleaned up, I’ll create a list of creators that I enjoy, along with fic recs. For now, here’s a link to my AO3 bookmarks which I read one like almost every single night bc I’m a horny gremlin.

I am the shark king. Sharks are my thing bro u don’t even know. I love them so much, they're dumb and big and beautiful and yeah I wish I was a mermaid who got to swim with them. Also I changed it bc I’m trying to make my blog more *professional* and all that so I can start being taken seriously askjakjdf

Compliments suck, if I'm being down and out honest. This does not bother me at all, I’m just unsure how to respond. I think I would prefer no comments, but I’m trying really really hard to just say “thank you!” and move on before I get uncomfortable. Having to fight with someone about how I perceive my self worth is exhausting, and especially so for the poor person that was just trying to say something nice and be nice to me.

They do make me quite uncomfortable my dear lad/lassie/lasso. Say what you wish in the tags tho ! I don’t really reply to those, so there’s no pressure on me to have to say something back. I do however, see all the tags ppl use and some of them make me laugh so hard cause they’re so spot on, and it makes my day. like “Mark me down as scared AND horny” and “Bakugou better be able to bench 165 cause imma throw my fatass in his mf lap” and it kills me.

I SCEREAMED AKDHGSYDGASJSD this is the only format I'll be taking asks in now, no compliments just a yes/no answer to if my works help u cum god bless

you used the /gen!!!!! IDK what these are called but the /S and /gen and /J save my life!!!!

Frick you’ve figured me out, I do try to put like a nail-in-the-coffin sentence at the end. A lot of times it never works right, but I cannot for the life of my figure out how to end a single post ever. If anyone knows hmu pls ty

(Also ps I checked out ur blog cause yans are my jam and it is very much Not garbage!!)

That’s very kind of you, but pls don’t stay up past midnight it’s bad for ur Brian you’ll make bad decisions bro trust me all of my stuff is written after midnight

You will lafff..... but I will tell anyways..... I was prescribed a “life coach” after I got out of the hospital, which was really just a poorly disguised softcore “make sure u don’t yeet urself” type of thing. He had me write down things I liked about myself, and when I returned the sheet of paper still blank, he wrote stuff down for me. Like five sentences of “My hair and skin are unique and special” “I like animals and enjoy being kind to them” “I am worthy of respect” etc etc. and I had to look in a mirror twice a day and say those sentences to help “boost my self worth”. It sucked so bad dude, and I like got upset about it every time it came up, until finally my therapist was like “... this aint doin this sad bitch no good” and my parents got designated for yeet watch instead.

I know, logically, that (the majority of) people are not purposefully taking time out of their day to make me feel bad. They're trying to be encouraging and loving, and I appreciate it so much. But like... what do I say? If I say thanks, it’s almost like acknowledging what they're saying as true, and I can’t live with myself thinking I’m more than I am. I’m sorry you’ve had experiences that make compliments difficult for you also, I understand bro and I hope that your future holds healing and peace for you.

Hopefully I won’t vent as much anymore lol, I’ll try to do that on my sideblog where I reblog really trigger-y memes akjdafhkjf. But thank you for your kind words bro, they’re appreciated and put in a nice lil jar.

Ah dw! This doesn’t sound like a jab. I think all of us r so sad n depressed and feel unworthy of love, so the fantasy of a Yan coming and forcing it on us and not leaving even when we lash out is just..... so attractive my heads gonna explode

me, thinking about kiri at any given moment like:

I have the next Hybrid! Kiri fic like lined up, but I’m so demotivated be I was SO CLOSE to finishing, and then wiped my computer like an IDITO

Waso, I’m taking horseback riding lessons bc my mom went:

and my grandpa told me that one of his horses was named Awaso and I immediately thot of u fun fact. But you’re so very kind, and I enjoy seeing you in my inbox. I’m never tired of u homie. You are loved and important, and it’s not an illusion. Even random strangers on the internet can feel soft towards you bro, and dats me, I’m the random stranger that likes u.

So I took Russian for a year, my dear friend, because I wanted to see if the language myth of “Russian is the hardest, Korean is the easiest” was true. I would say yes. So instead of like translating this and typing out a coherent response, I’ve resorted to google translate I’m so sorry but Виктор мог плюнуть мне в глаз, и я бы поблагодарил его. Also, the way Vitya is written in cryllic makes my heart swell it looks so cozy idek what I mean by that but it does? I treasure you man, hope to see you around in the new year and maybe??? we be good friends

Can any year be good when Kirishima Eijirou doesn’t exist?

cryface;;sad.jpg

I just imagine anyone who comes across my stuff, sitting at their computer shocked and slightly horrified, maybe turned on like

Daddy Aizawa makes me

Wait!! I have something to aid your troubles!!

ur welcome now u can be horny whenever you’d like

pls every time we talk about Kirishima I have to act surprised like

LISTEN BBYGORL I have had therapist Suga in the works since *checks notes* November. I am excited for it yeahhhhhh but sadly, I don’t think I will be continuing piano teacher Suga. The story is petered out in my mind, idk where it would go. Therapist sugarbird tho? We have some thots about this. Coming soon to theaters near you

#shorkbrian answers a lot of asks #pls block that tag if you don't want to see these kinds of posts #inbox was getting fulll #tysvm for continuing to support me

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a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

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SALT & SNOW - CHAPTER 3

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: Ned returns to Winterfell from the Vale for a short visit with his family, while Y/N gets some disappointing news about her’s ... and just generally has a bad time. Hope yall like fluff.

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✨🐺For mobile users, here’s my masterlist 🐺✨

For a time, Y/N felt guilty for how quickly the days began to pass and how she lost track of them. She always wrote to her mother and didn’t miss a letter, but sometimes the septa had to remind her, and sometimes she was so eager to write about what she was doing, she forgot to inquire after her family. She’d make it up by sending a lovely embroidery she was proud of, or a quick painting of some part in Winterfell she thought the boys would find interesting. They especially liked the ruined towers and horses, so she did her best to oblige them.

In the morning Lady Stark would give her a smile at breakfast, asking after her lessons like her mother did. Lord Stark was very different from her father and uncle, but he’d help her up on her horse if he was passing by, and he’d pat her head like they did. Even Brandon would have his moments of chivalry with her - between his immature japes - and of course, Lyanna and Benjen were her near constant companions. For as many days as she spent with just Lyanna, they were just as many days with Benjen joining them.

It was difficult to feel homesick in such happy circumstances, but Y/N would still feel it, especially at night when she’d awaken suddenly, hearing the wind hit against the window. She’d creep out of bed and open it, letting just a little cold air in, and her heart felt heavy when she smelled no salt in it, nor did she hear any waves in the distance. In the first weeks, that was enough to make a few tears run down her cheeks as she laid down to sleep.

She hadn’t cried from homesickness in some time, nor had she seen her family. It felt like it had been a very long time.

At dinner one evening, Y/N asked, “Lady Stark, how long has it been since I came to Winterfell?”

“It’s been nearly a year, perhaps a moon more.” Lady Stark said. She was still pale, but now Y/N was used to it. She often rested during the day, but always came to dinner. “Poor dear, you must want to see your family.”

“I do, but I’m happy to be here!” Y/N said quickly. “I love being at Winterfell.”

Lady Stark smiled. She patted Y/N’s cheek, and although the girl felt she was getting a bit old for that, the warm hand was comforting. “I do, too.”

“Couldn’t Y/N’s mother and father come to the feast this year?” Lyanna asked.

Lord Stark spoke like a man who had never lowered his voice for anything. “They will, don’t you girls worry about that. There’s someone else coming, though, someone you all will be very interested to see.”

Lady Stark grinned, and that got Brandon and Benjen’s attention. Brandon leaned in his seat impatiently. “Who?”

“Ned is coming home!” Lady Stark said, and immediately had to hush the outcry of happiness from the children and the teenager around her. She clapped her hands sharply. “Listen! He is only visiting, sweetlings, but he will stay for a fortnight. I asked Lord Arryn for it especially, since he is getting older, and will have to learn to travel during —”

Lyanna burst out. “He’s staying a whole fortnight?”

“Is he coming with some Vale knights? They have to show us how they fight in the South.” Brandon’s eyes had that fire Y/N noticed whenever he was sparring. He used real steel now. “I hope Lord Arryn taught Ned some interesting tricks.”

“Is the Baratheon boy coming too?” Benjen asked.

Her children clamored over one another. Lady Stark clapped again and sighed. “Enough! You can ask your questions when Ned gets here. If the gods are willing, he’ll be here a few days before the feast. I want you all to pray for his safe journey.”

Y/N, Lyanna and Benjen nodded obediently at this — neither of them neglected to visit the godswood each morning, even if Lyanna often yawned and fidgeted during the prayers — but Brandon decided to redirect his chattering to his father. Lately they were often together, and Y/N began to notice how much they resembled each other. Brandon wouldn’t stop growing, either, she overheard the maids sigh over how often they had to alter his clothing. He certainly ate like he was growing overnight.

Y/N felt much the same, even if much time had passed, although she did notice she could look over Benjen’s head now. Lyanna was still just a little taller, as usual, but the maids were also letting out their dresses … just not as often as Brandon’s tunics and trousers. Lyanna had begun to steal some of his old ones and roll up the pants legs to fit better, although her mother had become less patient with her blatant disregard of dresses.

They had gotten word from Jon Arryn when Ned left the Vale, and another one the day after he passed the Bloody Gate. A third raven was sent when he was within a day’s ride of Winterfell, and Lyanna was determined to stand vigil by the gate, as if she’d miss him completely if she wasn’t there to greet him. Benjen eventually got tired of the waiting, but it was easy for Y/N to wait patiently with her friend. She brought embroidery with her.

Lyanna leaned on Y/N as she looked down at the work. “Isn’t it boring? Doing the same thing again and again?”

“There isn’t much else for us to do. Don’t you ride to the same places on your horse?”

“It’s not the same thing at all!” Lyanna was aghast. “Well, it looks pretty. How do you know what a whale looks like?”

“My father showed me pictures in books, and they’re on my uncle’s maps. I’ve seen sharks and krakens, too.” Y/N would have embroidered those, but her uncle said krakens were cursed things, and a dainty, threaded shark didn’t match it’s fearsome reputation. Lyanna was going to say more, but both their heads snapped up as they heard the racket of horses and men.

“He’s here! He’s here!” She sprung up from the crate they were sitting on. Y/N shoved her work in her reticule and ran alongside her, although a Winterfell guard politely asked the girls to stand away from the gate while the horses came in.

Y/N expected a carriage and looked for one, but Lyanna pointed to one of the men on a horse — no, that wasn’t a grown man, but he wasn’t a boy, either. Y/N blinked once, then twice, and it was the soft grey eyes that hit her first. The rest of Ned followed behind that recognition. She couldn’t believe she had almost forgotten what he looked like, and that thought startled her. How could she forget those eyes?

He rode away from the small column and dismounted. Lyanna swung her arms around him at once. “Brother! You’re home!”

Ned was smiling, and it was such a good thing to see, but even better was how happy Lyanna was. Y/N’s heart swelled at the sight, knowing she missed Ned the most out of anyone, but then his grey eyes found hers. Y/N shivered, but not from the chill. She felt shy, which was silly, they’d met before, but …

Y/N looked down at her shoes and clasped her hands. She heard him step closer, and when she glanced up, those grey eyes were the first thing she saw.

She hastily looked elsewhere.

That’s how she noticed Benjen and Brandon heading toward them, looking just as excited as Lyanna. She knew Brandon had especially been wanting to see his brother again, maybe more than Lyanna. Y/N made room for them as the siblings made a little half-circle around their brother. It struck her how alike they all looked. They had their differences and little arguments, but they always protected one another.

Just like a pack.

“What are you doing?” Brandon asked her suddenly. Before Y/N could answer, the lordling took her hand and gently pulled her into the circle. “Ned, Y/N’s been living with us. You knew that, right? I almost wish they sent Lyanna to Whitetide.”

He didn’t have time to dodge the slap Lyanna gave the back of his head. Y/N watched Ned’s smile grow to a grin, and the sight of it made her stomach flip so much worse. It was best to stick to his eyes, or better, look at someone else. She was so distracted she hadn’t noticed that Brandon still had the light grip on her hand, even after Lyanna had hit him, and she carefully slipped out of it.

To Lyanna’s annoyance, Brandon was always taking Ned with him to go riding or practice in the training yard. As she and Y/N would cross the yard to etiquette lessons or worse - dancing - Lyanna would have a palpable impatience as she tried to get through the hours. Once they were finished, she’d sprint out to join her brothers, calling for Y/N to catch up. Sometimes it was annoying, but Y/N could understand. She was antsy to see her parents and Willam, and maybe even little Rickard, if they decided to bring him.

Y/N had a feeling Lyanna was going to change into riding clothes and saddle up her favorite horse, and once she was on a horse … Well, Y/N absolutely wasn’t going to gallop off with the speed and ferocity Lyanna was used to.

She hadn’t even stepped outside for more than a few moments before she heard someone trying to catch up to her. She turned as Lady Stark caught up with her, her breathing a little more than strained. Y/N was worried about the color of her face, pale in spite of her quick gait. She had a letter in her hand.

“Y/N, sweetling,” She called, stopping to catch her breath. Y/N wasted no time in walking to her so Lady Stark didn’t have to go any further. Before the young girl could ask if she was alright, Lady Stark continued with some difficulty. “I’m so sorry, dear, I just received word from Whitetide. Your parents cannot come to the feast.”

Y/N forgot about Lady Stark’s pallor. She blinked. “What?”

“Your brothers and uncle are abed with terrible colds, and your parents are worried about bringing the sickness here. It wouldn’t be safe with the feast and my - my own health,” Lady Stark explained. “As soon as your brothers are feeling better, they can come here to see you.”

Y/N couldn’t remember Willam ever being sick, and she herself had only had a handful of colds in her life. Her uncle said the sea air was the best for one’s body. How could he be ill, too? Worry began to form in her stomach, especially with Lady Stark’s obvious fatigue right in front of her. “Are you ill too, Lady Stark? Are you going to have to leave?”

Why was she surprised by the questions? She must have noticed. “I am well enough to greet our guests and eat a few courses. It’s nothing you need worry about, Y/N. Why don’t you write a letter to your brothers and wish them well?”

Baby Rickon can’t read yet, and Willam is so stubborn about his letters. Y/N didn’t argue, though. She’d write to her mother and ask if they were going to be alright, as well as her uncle. She had these awful, anxious feelings biting at her stomach and pulling at her heart.

“They will recover quickly, I’m sure of it.” Lady Stark patted Y/N on the hair, and for once, the gesture bothered her. She felt like she wasn’t being told everything, like she was a child - she was nearly a woman (well, she would be once she flowered). Still, for all the time she spent at Winterfell, she felt she couldn’t possibly overstep her bounds like that.

So, she simply said, “I’ll go to the godswood and pray for their health.”

Lady Stark beamed in approval. She put the letter in her sleeve, excused herself, and slowly walked back into the keep. Y/N watched her go, recalling the straight, elegant poise the woman used to walk with. She decided to pray for Lady Stark, too.

“You don’t have to go to the feast if you aren’t feeling well.” Lyanna insisted. “I’ll stay with you.”

It was a sweet thing to say, because Y/N knew Lyanna had been looking forward to the event as much as her. As much as she wanted to stay in their shared room and sigh over the absence of her family, it wouldn’t do any good, and Lyanna would just be a bundle of energy, urging her every few minutes if she felt better and wanting to distract her. Here at the party, Y/N could glide along the feast hall, avoiding conversation easily, while Lyanna jumped to whatever took her attention. Expecting a she-wolf to be still was asking too much.

Y/N assured her friend, “Your mother has been making us practice our manners and courtesies for occasions like this. Besides, I think I smelled chocolate in the kitchen.”

“I did, too!” Lyanna grinned. “I haven’t had chocolate in so long! I wonder if they made it into a cake or a drink! Father said we’d have to wait and see. Oh, let me braid your hair. It’ll be easier.”

Y/N handed her the brush and sat patiently while Lyanna chattered about the different banners she saw at the gates. In the past year Lyanna had become very adept at styling braids, considering how often she tied her hair back for riding. When she was finished, Y/N helped lace up her gown, and turned around so Lyanna could do the same for her. It was a familiar routine now, and they walked to the feast hall with linked arms.

Y/N sat on the dais with the Starks, an honored place, and by now she was used to how her seafoam and white dress stuck out amongst the Starks’ shades of grey, white and black. Only Lyanna and her mother afforded splashes of pretty blues. From Y/N’s seat, she could gaze over the entire hall. It used to be uncomfortable to have guests glance at the clearly odd one out, but by now most knew her and her situation. More pressing to Y/N’s attention was the seat Ned occupied, usually reserved for Benjen.

The youngest Stark had no problem giving up his seat, Lord Stark was humored by his children all trying to shuffle their seats to talk to Ned. Brandon just had to lean forward or back to yell, so finally Lady Stark told her children to stop shouting over each other and go mingle with the guests.

Y/N wanted to talk to Ned, but it seemed everyone did. She kept trying to meet his grey eyes, and the few times she succeeded, she couldn’t look for long without becoming bashful. I feel so foolish. I should be more direct like Lyanna, but what would I even say? He must have seen so many amazing things at the Vale, I want to know what it was like ...

Worse than her stupid thoughts was the loneliness that kept biting at her. Anytime she heard a young boy laugh, she turned, expecting Willam. Northern men drinking and arguing reminded her of her father and uncle, and the women gliding around with long, trailing hair was similar to her mother. Even now, she had no one to speak with. Ned, Brandon and Benjen were wandering off with the other lordlings, and Lyanna was chatting away with the Ryswell sisters.

Y/N figured she may as well join that conversation. Lyanna eagerly pulled her into the circle. “Barbrey, you’ve met Y/N, haven’t you?”

“Several months ago, but I didn’t have my sister with me.” Barbrey was a tall and pretty girl, three years older than them. Back then and now, she spoke to Y/N and Lyanna like equals. It helped she and Lyanna shared a love of riding, and Lyanna could talk over adults about that subject. She glanced to her younger sister. “Well, say hello.”

Her sister was slighter and paler, with dark hair that looked very soft. She was almost hiding behind Bethany. “Um. It’s good to meet you. My name is Lady Bethany.”

“It’s good to meet you. My name is Lady Y/N of House Caspian.” Y/N said, and Lyanna bowed with her. Instantly, Lyanna asked, “Do you ride, Bethany?”

“Oh, some… Barbrey’s been teaching me.”

“She’s getting there.” Barbrey smiled. She had honey-brown hair that was tied back, and dark eyes that Y/N rather liked. They wore simple dark red and brown gowns that were lightly trimmed with fur. Bethany was pointedly looking at Y/N’s own gown, decorating in swimming rays instead of galloping horses, and she shyly smiled when Y/N held up the sleeve so she could look closer.

“The white silk is so pretty,” She said softly. “When it’s with the green like that, it makes me think of a spring day.”

“Thank you, that is a pretty thing to say,” Y/N beamed. “I especially like how it matches the pearl my father —”

Her fingers froze as she touched her braid. The familiar, round pearl wasn’t there.

Bethany gave Y/N a questioning look, but Y/N didn’t notice. Her heart seized in her chest and panic spread through every inch of her body. Air left her lungs, and she released a very steady breath, desperately willing away the tears that instantly sprang to her eyes.

Barbrey and Lyanna had been discussing stallions the entire time, and weren’t paying the other two any mind. Bethany asked, “Um … Lady Y/N, are you well …?”

“I…” No. My pearl is gone. My pearl is gone. The pearl my father gave me, the silver strings aren’t even there — Did it fall? Did it break?

Y/N swallowed her racing thoughts and her words. She realized she had a death grip on her braid, and she lowered her hand. Instead, she gripped the sides of her skirts and attempted a curtsy. “Excuse me, I … I feel too warm.”

She quickly turned away from Bethany’s big, concerned eyes. Y/N tapped Lyanna on the shoulder. “I’m stepping out for a moment. It’s too hot.”

“Truly? But —”

Y/N swept past her.

Did Lyanna braid it into my hair? She must have, she always does, I showed her how to carefully tie the silver strings. She’d never be careless — we were talking, but she wasn’t that distracted — what if it’s on the dais? Or our room? Or … gods, what if it fell in the snow?

Y/N’s heart froze as she recalled how badly Lyanna wanted to walk through the open courtyard, even though Y/N warned her about dirtying their gowns. No, not the snow. Anything but that. Finding a pearl in the stone feast hall or our bedroom can be done, but an entire snowy courtyard at night …

She tried to fight the tears springing to her eyes, but as she replayed her memories, she couldn’t recall touching her braid or looking at it. All she could think about was the vast courtyard, and how quickly she and Lyanna ran through it. It was stupid, she should have secured the pearl before they left the bedroom, or better, not run at all. She never wore it while riding, she always carefully tucked it away at bedtime — she couldn’t lose it. She just couldn’t.

The tears were warm and she rubbed at her eyes, trying to stop them, but she couldn’t keep her sobs down. She retreated to an empty hall with large, lonely windows. It was completely dark out. It may not have been snowing, but servants and horses and men were moving through the courtyard from now to morning. Her pearl would be trampled on and buried.

It was bad enough she couldn’t hear the waves anymore, or chase after Willam or listen to her Uncle’s stories or sit with her parents by the hearth and fall asleep on her mother’s lap as they talked.

Y/N took in a deep breath, trying to just stop and decide what to do, but her thoughts were racing and fighting each other, none of them helpful. Her pounding heart froze all over again when she heard someone behind her.

“I’m fine,” Y/N blubbered before they could say anything, or before she even knew who it was. She looked up from her long sleeves and blinked several times, trying to see through her tears.

Two hands touched her shoulders, and she could feel their warmth through her silk gown. It would have made her flinch away if it wasn’t Ned standing before her. She blinked again, and before any more tears could run to her chin and drop on the floor, Ned wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of his grey and black tunic.

“Lyanna said you hurried away. Did something happen?” He asked quietly. Y/N almost had to strain to hear him over her heart hammering in her chest and the blood rushing in her ears.

She wanted to tell him, but where could she start? It was all a jumble in her head. She felt lonely, angry, hopeless and foolish all at once. It should have been icing on the cake to have Ned find her like this, crying like a child over a lost bauble, but …

He was truly worried, and he carefully wiped the other side of her face. Y/N felt just a little better. She sniffled. “I lost my pearl.”

“The one you always wear?”

She nodded. “M-my father gave it to me. I … I don’t know where it could be. I thought about the courtyard, but it’s big, and has so much snow and mud, I can’t …”

The tears threatened to come again, and she clenched her eyes tight. The hand that remained on her shoulder squeezed her gently. What could he do? What could anyone do? Y/N hated the thought of everyone stopping everything to look for the pearl, though she’d gladly crawl through mud for it.

“I could find it myself,” Y/N said suddenly. “If I had a torch … I-I just need a torch and I’ll go looking…”

“There’s no need for that.” Ned shook his head. His hair was longer than she remembered, but it was the Northern way. She was glad the Eyrie didn’t change that. “I’ll take you back to your room, maybe it slipped out of your hair while you dressed.”

Y/N deflated. “I don’t think it’s there.”

“It doesn’t hurt to look. While you do that, I’ll ask the servants to look around the feast hall.”

“What about the courtyard?”

Ned glanced aside as he considered something, then said, “Search around your chambers and see if it’s there. I’ll worry about what’s outside.”

“But…” Y/N tried to argue, but she was tired, and she could only resist so much. She wanted to hope. She allowed Ned to hook his arm in her’s and escort her back to her room. She could hear distant revelry as they walked, and she asked, “Aren’t you missing the feast? Won’t your father look for you?”

“Well …” Ned smiled bashfully. “I’m afraid he challenged Lord Umber to a drinking contest.”

“Oh.” Y/N recalled Lord Umber and his staggering height. “Oh dear.”

“Benjen will keep Brandon from joining, hopefully.” Ned stopped at her bedroom door and opened it, making a point not to look inside. “After you look, get some rest, Y/N. You shouldn’t fret.”

She was well beyond fretting. Y/N said, “If I end up finding it here, I’ll come and tell you. I don’t want the servants looking on my behalf, I … Maybe, I can help them look tomorrow? Or, I can do it myself… I don’t want to impose, it’s my mistake …”

As she trailed off, Ned gave her another one of those small smiles. He touched her shoulder again, and she appreciated the touch all over again. “If you do find it, you can come find me, but if not, you ought to sleep.”

Y/N wished him a goodnight, shut the door, and took a deep breath before tearing into the room. She pulled up the fur rugs, searched around the hearth, looked under the bed, around the vanity, into all the drawers, under the fur blankets, in her trunk … By the time she finished, she was sweating and muttering unladylike things as she pulled open her gown’s delicate lacings.

Y/N slipped into bed with her hair a mess and her heart still hammering painfully. She felt like there was a hole in her heart without the pearl, which was a silly and stupid thing to think of, but she kept feeling it. As she closed her eyes and touched her messy braid, she willed herself to sleep, just sleep. Silent tears fell on her pillow as she drifted off slowly.

She dreamed about warm sand between her toes, seagulls circling above her head, and a tall boy in a grey tunic pulling at her arm. At some point, the dream was interrupted by Lyanna’s voice, but that quickly faded. When she returned to that beach, it was night time, and all she could hear was waves crashing hard against the docks. This time, she was alone.

Y/N rolled onto her side and opened her bleary eyes to the window in front of her. The sky was lightening, but the sun wasn’t yet up. She so rarely woke up this early, but her sleep had been restless. She closed her eyes and snuggled back under the furs.

Tap tap. There was the noise again.

Again? When did I hear it the first time? Y/N sat up slightly, scanning the room with a little worry. Embers were crackling quietly in the hearth, almost extinguished, and Lyanna was snoozing softly beside her. There was no wind hitting the window, nor was there a bird outside of it …

Tap tap.

The door. Y/N hesitated, then pushed off the fur blanket and carefully slipped out of bed. She shivered as she pattered her way to the door. The servants didn’t knock if they were just stepping in to stoke the hearth. She carefully unlatched the door, opened it just a few inches, then threw it open once she saw the visitor.

“Ned!” Y/N at least had the state of mind to whisper, although it was still too loud. The older boy gestured for her to lower her voice, so she did. “What are you doing?”

Ned didn’t say anything, he just held out his hand. Even in the almost darkness, Y/N could make out a perfectly white, glittering object.

“Oh!” She threw her hands to her mouth, then quickly held the pearl. It was as cold as ice, and Ned’s hands were no warmer. She just noticed he was trembling. “Where did you —? How? Wait, how late is it?”

“Y-You mentioned th-the courtyard.” Ned sniffled. She stepped closer to him, over the threshold, and saw he had a thick cloak thrown over his clothes.

Y/N squinted, her eyes adjusting to the dark, and she reached for him. She grabbed hold of his arm, and from there, she took his hand. It seemed colder than the pearl, and she shivered. “Ned, you’re almost frozen!”

“I’m not that cold,” He mumbled, squeezing her hand and obviously relishing in the warmth. Their fingers entwined, and his body shook of its own volition. Y/N wanted to pull away, he was far too cold, but she held there for a few moments.

“Thank you so much. I… I can’t begin to thank you,” She said, trying to keep up the whispering, but the relief was too much. She clutched the pearl tight as she untangled from Ned’s hand and wrapped her arms around his chest. He was sixteen now, and far taller, so he bent down awkwardly to meet her. When he did, Y/N pressed her lips to his cold cheek. Ned shivered and jerked instantly.

He’s really in a terrible state! Y/N couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t have been out all night in that cold, could he? She pulled away and said, “You need to find a hearth, a blazing one, right away! Your blood is going to turn to ice!”

She couldn’t believe the soft laugh that came from him. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he warmed himself before finding her, or waited until the morning. What an irresponsible thing to do! Y/N impatiently pushed him. “Right now! You’ll catch your death!”

“F-frozen blood or death, which is it?” Ned teased, but he allowed himself to be pushed away. The slightest light was beginning to come in from the many windows that dotted the walls, and Y/N saw how his face was flushed pink, especially his nose and ears. His long hair was a mess in all directions too, just like his siblings after a long day of training or riding. She sighed.

“You Starks really are a bunch of wolves.”

“You seem to like it here,” Ned said, his voice raising above a whisper, yet still gentle. It was always so gentle. “Even if it’s a strange place for a ray.”

“It is different, but I do love Winterfell. And… ” Y/N searched for her words. She was still so sleepy, and so happy and grateful. She looked at the precious pearl in her hand, the silver strands strung through it glittering in what little light there was. “And you found the little piece of ocean I brought. I can’t thank you enough for that, Ned.”

His whole face looked dangerously red, and as adorable as his next sniffle was, Y/N thought of her ill brothers and grew worried. She gently pushed at him again, directing him to the opposite end of the hall. “Go back to your room! Change out of those clothes and get some sleep!”

He finally heeded her. They traded quick good nights (or rather, good mornings) and she watched him shuffle down the hall for just a few moments before returning to the open doorway. Y/N was pleased that Lyanna hadn’t stirred at all, and was mindful of the door’s creak as she closed it.

Her steps were light and a smile was stuck on her face. She could twirl around the room and start her morning routine, but no, she really ought to get a few more hours of sleep. Y/N climbed into bed and finally released her pearl from her iron grip. It had all but one of its silver strings, but she didn’t mind at all. Y/N gave it a kiss before setting it in an overturned seashell on her bedside table. The dreams were shorter this time, but they were full of Whitetide and her family.

At breakfast, Y/N and Lyanna were only joined by Benjen and Lady Stark. She thought just Ned would be absent, but apparently the drinking competition went a little too far. Neither Lord Stark nor his oldest son were terribly victorious, and Lady Stark had plenty to say on the subject as she irritably hacked through the sausage on her plate. Y/N glanced over at Lyanna, who was stabbing innocent slices of pork.

Lyanna asked, “Mother, could I ride with Barbrey and Bethany today? They’re leaving tomorrow.”

Lady Stark considered it. She seemed weary, as she often did. “Very well, but your usual lessons will continue the day after tomorrow. Y/N, will you be riding, too?”

Lyanna looked to her expectantly, but Y/N hedged. “Um … I’m still not feeling well from yesterday…”

“You did leave the feast early.” Lyanna frowned. “I tried to wake you last night, but you were fast asleep. Are you sick?”

“I had a stomachache.” The lie came easily. Ned must have not told anyone what he was doing, which Y/N was grateful for. “It still hurts a little, I don’t think I should ride.”

“Indeed not.” Lady Stark said. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice before, sweetling. I’ll have the maester brew you a peppermint and ginger tea, that always soothes me.”

Y/N nodded, trying not to grimace at the thought of the tea. “Thank you, Lady Stark.”

Having successfully escaped a terrifying riding session, Y/N decided to spend her time in one of the private sitting rooms meant only for the Starks and certain guests. She often retreated here when Winterfell became too bustling and full of strangers, and its large window had lighting that was perfect for sketching. She sat at the windowsill, watching the servants and guards go about their business below. There were about a dozen washerwomen cleaning, all sizes of buckets around them, all sorts of children and dogs running around them. Y/N studied the scene and began to sketch.

Lady Stark and the septa were further away at the hearth, stitching and talking quietly. She had been doing this often, staying indoors by the warmth of the fire, even when there were guests to check up on and entertain. Lord Stark and Brandon did most of that now, even if they could be … not the most diplomatic.

The door opened, but Y/N was too focused on her drawing to look up. She stayed at her task until she saw someone move in her peripheral vision, someone who … sniffled.

Y/N quickly looked up. “Oh, you’re finally awake.”

Ned smiled bashfully. His nose was still a bit red, and he had obvious circles under her eyes, and Y/N felt bad all over again. She set her sketchbook aside and patted the spot next to her on the window seat. Ned hesitated for a moment, then took it.

“It’s not that late,” He said, but then he looked out the window and blinked at the sky. “Or perhaps it is.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think Brandon is still abed.”

“He’s awake, and as sour as a wet cat.” Ned grinned. “Take my advice and whisper around him today.”

Y/N smiled and put her sketchbook back in her lap. Ned glanced over her shoulder, and while people watching her draw usually made her nervous, this wasn’t so bad. She really only shared her drawings with Lyanna and Benjen, but she felt Ned would like them, too. He watched her draw the tufts of fur on the dogs, the folds of the washerwoman’s clothes as they bent over their work, and the little sudsy bubbles in the buckets. She added little details, like flowers around their feet and a cat sitting up on one of the boxes.

They sat in a peaceful, easy silence. Ned fit in with the coziness of the room, and he seemed to enjoy it. He really did look tired, and even before last night, he’d been dragged around by his father and older brother and all the guests for days. A thought occurred to Y/N.

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” She asked.

“I am.”

He didn’t seem happy about it, either. Y/N dated her drawing, then flipped to a new page. Several pages had been removed already, drawings she’d sent to her family to show them things she liked about Winterfell. An idea came to her, and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Could I write to you when you go back to the Eyrie?”

Ned blinked, and Y/N quickly added, “Only if I can. If you want to. Um, I write to my parents, and … sometimes I send them drawings…”

She tugged at her long sleeve and glanced away to the window.

“You would want to write to me?”

Y/N fiddled with her pencil. “I’d like to. I don’t get to see you as often, and um, the Vale is so far… I know you have the Baratheon lord, and Lord Arryn, and everyone in court, but …”

“I’d like you to — to write to me, and send whatever fancies you,” Ned said, stumbling and talking a little too quick. He hesitated again, trying to think about his words before speaking again. “The Eyrie is a great place, but I miss Winterfell.”

Y/N smiled, and now it was Ned’s turn to fiddle with his sleeve and look at the window, or his shoes, or anywhere else. Her eyes turned to the fire, where Lady Stark was staring right at her. It startled the both of them.

Lady Stark quickly caught the needle that fell from her hand. She tilted her head and raised her voice so they could hear her across the room. “What are you two plotting over there?”

“Could Y/N write to me?” “Could I write to Ned?”

They both stopped, fumbled their words, waiting for the other to speak first, but neither would budge. Lady Stark arched her eyebrows.

“Do you mean… when Ned returns to the Eyrie?” Before either could answer, Lady Stark quickly said, “Yes, yes you may! Y/N, you can draw those darling pictures you send to your parents.”

Y/N blushed from embarrassment. It felt a little silly when she said it that way, but she was glad Lady Stark agreed so easily. She looked delighted, in fact, and was much more animated than she had been recently. Ned’s cheeks were getting as red as his nose, and Y/N was glad she wasn’t the only one feeling a little embarrassed.

Y/N thought that she’d mention Lyanna could write more too, or the other two boys, as they rarely did, usually only adding a few words of encouragement to the end of Lord Stark’s letters. But she didn’t. Lady Stark instead turned to the septa, whispering something, forgetting her needlework entirely. The needle and thread fell to the floor.

There was an odd silence between Y/N and Ned now, neither of them sure of what to say. So, Y/N turned to the front of her sketchbook. “Um, do you want to see what I’ve drawn already? It’s mostly buildings and trees, but there’s some animals …”

Ned nodded, and even if he was just being polite, Y/N was glad. She felt like she’d improved quite a bit, so she started at the beginning and chatted about each piece. After several minutes, the comfort of the room returned, and it didn’t take long for them to lean against each other as Y/N turned the pages.

#game of thrones x reader #ned stark x reader #game of thrones #ned stark #salt & snow #libra fics

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lizzy-of-the-valley19 · 4 years ago

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Fall From Grace, Right Into Your Arms.

Summary: An angel had fallen out of the sky, straight into his arms. Her lovely, glittering amethyst eyes met his wide, soulful, burgundy ones. She thought of how they reminded her of the sky at the blush of dawn. And at that moment, something within them sparked a brand new start on feelings they never knew existed. Oh, how she felt wonderstruck right then, marveling at how pretty his eyes were..." Or rather, this one time where Tsuyuri Kanao's 'superior motor reflexes' did not work. Set in Kimetsu Gakuen AU.

Note: This is very self-indulgent so here’s my first take on one certain sunshine lad and butterfly lass. Shoutout to @sparkleswritings for being so patient with me on beta-reading this work. thaaaaankkkk youuuuu so much I couldn’t have done this without your help T_T Also, thank you very much Manu of @tankanaweek2020 for kindly giving me permission to use the prompts and motivating me to greenlit this! And I’m sooo sorry this came in verrry late and for some marginal errors! But better late than never, right? Hope you enjoy lovelies! :D

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She thought this was the end.

Time flowed around her as if in slow motion yet fast, all at once. The girl was startled by a loud ‘snap!’ from a loose tree branch that she has been holding on to guarantee her safe descent from the cherry tree. And just her luck, she suddenly lost her footing and slipped. With a startled yelp, gravity took over her body as Tsuyuri Kanao felt herself slip away from her hold. For once, her fast reflexes and nimble body were rendered useless when her anxiety suddenly kicked in.

She'll have some broken bones, a few bruises, and cuts, maybe even some blood (she hopes not) all over her body. Her Kanae nee-san would be worried sick and would fuss over her nonstop. Shinobu nee-san would still do the same but she'll give her one hell of a lecture full of poisonous quips. And oh dear, Kanao does not want that. They would skin her alive, that's for sure if she had not died here first.

Had she lived a life with no regrets? Were the last sixteen years of her existence worth it? Will she meet her biological parents in heaven? What or who would she reincarnate into, she wonders. Would the words "Cause of death: A bad fall due to a misstep from a broken branch of a cherry blossom tree" be etched forever in her death certificate? She feels ashamed, this is embarrassing compared to those who died fighting disease and war!

At least those baby sparrows didn't get hurt and were placed back safe and sound , she hoped that their mother would find her nest soon. Kanao doesn't mind if she'd die knowing that she'd rescued something or someone. What a pretty sight, the last thing that she sees on Earth is this old cherry blossom tree in full bloom.

Ah, perhaps that she might become a spirit and haunt this tree to watch over her sisters and the other students at her school. Is this one of those, "When your whole life flashes before your eyes," moments that she has often heard from movies or books?

But here she was right now, her face and skin getting scratched from tree branches and her body was slowly hurtling towards the ground from a 30-foot drop. As she braces for impact, she instinctively wraps her arms closer over her chest, scrunching her eyes shut as the ground approaches nearer and nearer.

How did she get into this mess anyway?

*20 minutes earlier*

"Kanao, I'll be going home earlier today. Mom needs me to help her at the diner because you know… today's Friday and more customers are going to pour in during suppertime. Are you sure you're gonna be okay on your own?" Kanzaki Aoi queried her friend as she adjusted the straps of her bag, slightly worried at her. Club sessions were already done several minutes ago, and the two had just finished cleaning the clubroom.

Kanao shook her head, smiling a bit. "Thank you, Aoi. Besides, I'll be fine! I'll just wait for Shinobu nee-san when she's done with her club activities. I'll lock up the clubroom for today." Aoi was about to say something when a sudden chime made the pigtailed girl flinch, fishing out her phone from her skirt pocket.

"Oh dear, Mom's already calling for me! Gotta run now, bye! And tell Shinobu-sama I said congratulations on passing her exams!" She began to dash to the door, muttering about 'orders' and 'customers'.

Kanao waved at her retreating figure, slightly amused at her friend's antics.

Shortly after Aoi left, the clubroom seemed to be quieter now. The distant holler of the students from sports clubs doing their drills outside is all she can hear at that moment.

Oh… she's now all alone. She still has a bit of time on her own.

Kanae nee-san was still at the meeting with the faculty. Shinobu nee-san, meanwhile, was still at the Biology room where she convened with the rest of her fellow Pharmaceutical Club members, no doubt testing another poisonous chemical that they had just concocted with ingredients only-God-knows-where came from.

Gathering her things, she exited the Flower Arrangement Clubroom and locked it.

‘Perhaps I'll go to the old cherry tree at the back of the school.’ she mused.It was spring, after all, and she wanted to see what it would look like when it blooms in full swing. The sun was already setting, casting the sky in a rosy hue, basking her surroundings in a warm, golden glow.

By the time she had arrived there, she felt her breath take away at the lovely sight before her. The delicate pink petals fell to the ground like snow, their scent bringing in the fragrance of the new season. The windy breeze swayed the branches slightly, dancing along the springsong. Spring was indeed her favorite season. The flowers blooming, the sweet sakura mochi that she and her sisters would always share while celebrating Hanami, and the warm weather were the few things that she loved about spring. Kanao feels her heart swell with bliss. For her, such moments like these are the ones she cherishes the most.

She also remembered, her sisters would always fawn over spring, gushing that this season was the best time to fall in love for the first time-

"Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!"

"Eh? Birds?" A loud chirping noise interrupted her train of thoughts. A few feet away from her, a fallen nest of baby sparrows laid haphazardly on the ground, no doubt being blown away by the wind. It seems that the thick carpets of grass and cherry blossom petals had somehow cushioned the nest's fall, miraculously rendering the chicks still alive and yet.. Helpless. The girl approached the nest and picked it up gently, making sure the little birds wouldn't get hurt in the process.

"Poor little things. I'll bring you guys back up to the tree, I'm sure your mother is looking for you..."

She craned her head from left to right, checking to see if anybody was around. It would be very improper of her to climb a tree if someone saw her - she'll be damned if it was Tomioka-sensei, their P.E.teacher, and school disciplinarian. The latter had the reputation of hunting rule-breakers like a crazed shark on shallow waters. And she was still dressed in her school uniform with an above-the-knee skirt. If some poor unfortunate soul would see what's under it, she'd made sure that they would never see the light of the day again.

After making sure that no one was indeed around, she slipped off her loafers and started to climb the tree while her one hand held the nest securely. Luckily the tree's trunk had a lot of bumps so it is easier for her to climb the way up. Though she did struggle a bit along the way, she reached near the canopy of the cherry tree successfully.

"There." She spotted a nearby branch dotted with buds, thick and sturdy enough, she remarked. "That'll hold them." she thought, and she pulled her body up to the said branch, sliding the nest to the branch until the twigs held them secure. Kanao smiled, feeling accomplished that she put the baby birds back where they belong.

Now that both of her hands are free, she moved to begin her way down. But suddenly her sock-clad foot took a misstep on a knobby part of the trunk and the branch that she held on to broke. Unfortunately, it was a thin, hollow branch and it broke on her tight grip. Shoot, she should've removed her socks back then to avoid her from slipping. But it was too late - losing her balance, Kanao felt her right hand getting scraped as she slipped off the branch, her body slowly hurtling to the ground the same way the cherry blossom petals fell…

*Back to the present*

No,no,no,no,no,no,no… These words were repeated on her mind like a broken record. This is it, she's going to die, this is the end. But a part of her wished that she wouldn't die yet. She wanted to see her older sisters again, to spend more time with them. With her fellow club members, Aoi, everyone…

"WATCH OUT!" She heard a voice from somewhere down below, but what happened next was not one that she was expecting.

The sudden thud of a fallen branch, the wind picking up, and a person groaning and wincing in pain-

Instead of falling onto the hard, solid, grass-covered ground, she felt two strong arms holding her back and the back of her knees. She landed on a body, a man’s to be exact, judging by the hardiness of it. She gripped his broad shoulders a bit too strongly, her body instinctively seeking an anchor to hold on to. She still scrunched her eyes shut, adrenaline pumping in her veins wildly, her breathing ragged.

"Are you alright, Miss? That was quite the fall that you had..." the words died by his throat as Kanao snapped her eyes open. This time, she felt her breath taken away for the second time that day the moment their eyes met.

Her (unexpected) savior was a young man about her age; with messy, slicked back maroon hair, a noticeable scar on his forehead, and hanafuda earrings dangling on his ears. But one feature that stood out the most is his eyes - wide, soulful burgundy ones that reminded her of the sky in the blush of dawn that seemed to shine against the sunset's golden rays. He stared at her with his lips parted, almost in disbelief that this random beautiful girl fell right into his arms.

As if on cue the wind picked up once more, sending the petals scattering on a graceful dance on the air. Her heart thumping wildly, all she can hear is her heartbeat ringing loudly in her ears. She and this handsome stranger looked at each other, her wide amethyst eyes meeting his dawn-red ones. Their faces were only centimeters apart, noses almost touching. She was rendered wonderstruck, marveling at how lovely his eyes were, his gaze was magnetic and deep as if they saw each other's souls at that moment, beckoning-

The school's last bell snapped them out of their reverie, breaking whatever spell that was cast in that ephemeral moment. The realization hit them like a ton of bricks as she just processed what happened: she crash-landed on some random guy and fortunately caught her ungraceful fall from the tree. With a yelp, she flailed off his arms and the young man grunted with an 'oof!' but still he helped her down, albeit a bit too unceremoniously.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!!! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She flailed, oh dear spirits, she hoped that whoever caught her was alright or she has broken anything! Really, what was she thinking?!

"No, no, no, it's really alright! I'm okay!" The young man in front of her flailed his arms as he helped her up. Their eyes met again, this time a hint of crimson dusted their cheeks. The two instinctively averted their eyes, too embarrassed at the events that just happened. For her being caught by a random stranger was rather shameful and for him, he was rather flustered of the girl before him.

A few beats later, Kanao gathered herself. She slipped her loafers back on and gathered her bag from the ground. With newfound courage, she apologized to him once again. "I'm sorry! I've crash-landed on you… Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Did something break? I'm very, very sorry!"

To her surprise, he chuckled. "It's okay, I promise! Don't worry, I've had worse. I have a friend who loves to roughhouse with me and boy, it's like I'm fighting with a wild bear or a four-legged beast!"

"I... I see..." Kanao raised her hand but she suddenly flinched, feeling a sudden shot of pain, particularly at her right palm.

"Your palm, it's bleeding..." He noted, and she raised it. He was right - a gash was blooming on it, slightly bloodied due to the broken branch that she held on mistakenly earlier that caused her (literal) downfall. Thank goodness there were no splinters. She touched her wound gingerly, wincing at the slight pain. "Ow..."

"If you don't mind, can I tend your wound for a bit?" The red-haired lad implored. Kanao was about to refuse when he fished out a handkerchief with a forest green and black checkered design from his pocket.

"Don't worry, this one's clean! My little sister, Nezuko, made this handkerchief by herself! This should stop the bleeding in the meantime," He stepped closer to her. Then he proceeded to wrap her wounded palm gently, making sure that it's not too tight. "There we go..all done!"

"Th-thank you….” she timidly thanked him, gently prodding her newly wrapped palm.

"It's no problem at all!" He cheerily replied. She looked up to him and he gave her a radiant grin - the kind where his eyes crinkled at the corners, the dimples on his cheeks showing. Kanao felt her heart skip a beat.

'He's such a kind person… He looks adorable with that smile of his-'

Wait, what?

"By the way... what were you doing up there in the tree?" he queried with his brows raised, pointing at the canopy above them.

"Oh! I.. uh.. I was returning the baby sparrows' nest there," she said, motioning for him to follow where she pointed on a branch that's quite… high. She gulped, he wasn't kidding that she'll quite have an incident, heaven forbid. Right now, the mother sparrow was now back on the nest, feeding her chicks with the food she brought for them.

"I see! Good thing I just came by, I was just about to head to the front gate! Who knows what could've happened to you or the nest, I mean, that's quite the drop, don't you think? You should be extra careful next time!" he chided her, but with no bite. His light-hearted tone somehow reminds her of Kanae nee-san admonishing her sometimes.

"I couldn't just leave them here on the ground..." Kanao trailed off, pushing a stray strand to her ear. She looked shyly at him.

"Oh… You're very kind to animals, Miss... Ah, I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Kamado Tanjirou, a first-year student! Nice to meet you! " He bowed, albeit sloppily, and took out his hand, which made the girl in front of him giggle.

"Tsuyuri."

"Eh?"

"Tsuyuri Kanao. Second-year, member of the Flower Arrangement Club. Um..." she gathered herself, "Thank you! For.. um, catching me, I mean. And for treating my wound!" she frantically clarified, and took his extended hand.

"You're very welcome, Tsuyuri-senpai..." Tanjirou's crooked yet bright smile once again graced his features, directed at her only. Once their hands made contact that inexplicable tingly and fluttery sensation coursed through their veins once more.

It’s like earlier, the moment our eyes first met.

They just stood there, his dawn-red eyes meeting her amethyst ones, both of their lips drawn into a soft smile. In that ephemeral moment, she felt something piercing her heart, perhaps the season was getting on to her. She must admit, this feels nice…. Is this what her sisters meant about spring?

He was the first one to relinquish his hand from her hold. For some reason, she's now missing the warmth in her hand.

"It's gonna get dark soon, we should head home, huh?" She heard him mutter. She silently agreed, now trailing beside him. Leaving one last glance at the blooming tree, they left the place together. Tanjirou was now enthusiastically talking about bread and the bakery that his family owns. As they approached the school gates, Kanao already spotted her two elder sisters there, waiting for her.

"Oh, Kanae nee-san and Shinobu nee-san's already there," she remarked.

"They're your sisters?!" Tanjirou exclaimed.

"That's right!" she quipped, giggling a bit at his bewildered expression.

"Yoo-hoo, Kanao! And oh my, Kamado-kun too!" Kanae cheerily waved at them. Shinobu greeted them with a smile too. But when she spotted Kanao's wrapped right hand, her eyebrows shot up. She looked at her little sister in question. Kanao pursed her lips guiltily, mouthing "Later."

"Well then, I'll be taking my leave now! I'll see you next Monday, Kochou-sensei! Shinobu-senpai! And..." Tanjirou paused to look at her, smiling crookedly at her again. "Tsuyuri-senpai!" With a wave, the red-haired lad trotted off.

Kanao waved at him, whispering, "Take care..."

Once Tanjirou was out of earshot, two pairs of hands immediately fell to her shoulders and she turned to see her two sisters smiling sweetly at her. Kanae's eyes were shining with excitement and joy. Shinobu, meanwhile, smiled at her graciously too, but her expression literally said, “Explain or I’ll extract from it to you forcibly”.

Oh no. Once intrigue swept over them, they would never stop.

"My oh my Kanao. Care to tell the story between you and Kamado-kun, hmm? And what's up with your wrapped hand?" Shinobu said sweetly but laced with a little apprehension.

"Ahh! Shinobu, spring has finally come for our cute little sister, I'm so proud of her~! Let's eat some sakura mochi for dessert later, we have lots to celebrate for tonight!" Kanae passionately declared while she grabbed Kanao in a one-armed hug.

"Nee-san! We have to treat her wound first!" Shinobu said exasperatedly, raising her little sister's hand for her to see.

"Oh my~! Kamado-kun did a great job patching her up, no? I'll give him some extra points in the next class for this! He deserves a reward for treating our cute little sister~!" Kanae ignored her younger sister's quips, too excited that her Kanao had finally found a friend of the opposite sex (and a potential little brother too!)

"Isn't that a bit too much, nee=san? And you, Kanao, I didn't know you're now canoodling with rule-breakers? I see that boy running into trouble with Tomioka-sensei all the time!" Shinobu quipped.

"N-no! It wasn't anything like that!" Kanao stammered, her cheeks and ears now fully red.

Kanae giggled. Then she wrapped her arms around their shoulders, with Shinobu on her left, and Kanao on her right. "Let's go home now shall we? We can tell each other's stories tonight! I'm also curious about what happened to you Kanao. Shinobu, take it a little easy for our little sister, she's now starting to bloom and broke out of her timid shell!"

The two butterfly girls sighed but smiled fondly at their elder sister nonetheless. "Yes, nee-san.."

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

"I'm home!"

"Welcome back, onii-chan!" Tanjirou's little siblings, Hanako and Shigeru, greeted their eldest brother, running up to him for a quick hug. The oldest Kamado sibling immediately hugged them both tightly.

"You're a little late than usual today Tanjirou-nii chan, did something happen at school?" Hanako questioned after he set them down.

"Well..." he averted his gaze, picking on his blazer until he found a stray small cherry blossom flower that somewhat got stuck in his breast pocket. Ah, a small remnant of that 'little incident' a while ago… and her image suddenly flashed in his mind

"An angel from the sky fell right into my arms and she had the most beautiful eyes that I've ever seen..." Tanjirou unknowingly mused, holding the small flower in his fingers with a wistful smile.

Hanako and Shigeru tilted their heads at their elder brother's mysterious words. “What are you talking about nii-chan?”

Instead of answering, he just patted their heads lovingly. "Ah, nothing. Let's help mom prepare dinner, shall we?"

~End of Prompt One~

#tankana #tanjirou kamado #kanao tsuyuri #fanfic #kny #there's more to come!

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cantcomeupwithacreativename · 3 years ago

Text

The Experiment Chapter 5

"Let go of me asshole!" I screamed at the dark haired teacher. A purple mist surrounded me. I felt my body going limp as my head slumped into the scarf.

I woke up on a bed in a pale green room with white sheets isolating me.

"Oh, hi dear, how do you feel?"

"Uh, I'm fine…"

As it turns out there were security cameras with audio, so my account wasn't needed. The 2 second years that I fought with got expelled because this was the 4rth account of bullying they've been caught on, and the 2nd fight. Apparently, one of them was in my class, and this is their 1st strike, so they're thinking about transferring my classes so that I'm not with them. They haven't decided.

Back at my alley with Kei, she won't stop asking me questions.

"How was your first day of school? Were the people nice? Did you like it? Did you meet any famous heroes? Who's your favorite? Did you make any friends? Did you? Did you? Did you?"

"Um, yeah, I think so." There's no reason to tell her about the fight, is there? Or the possible transferring of classes.

Nothing interesting happened on my walk to school. When I walked through the door to 1 B, one of the boys ran over to me.

"I heard you fought a bully! That's so manly!" His sharp teeth glistened as he spoke.

"Uh, thanks dude…" I flashed him a grin.

"Hey, while we're talking, how did you get those scars?"

"A shark." I looked him dead in the eyes

"Really?!??!" He shouted

"No." I said as I walked away.

Later that day, during lunch, an alarm went off, making everybody scatter and stampede. I saw that nice ponytail girl from yesterday getting squished in the crowd. I pushed my way over and pulled her up.

Thank you F/l/n-san."

"Oh no prob."

A tall, bulky teenager flew to the top of a sign and shouted at everybody. He said it was the media, and people needed to chill.

Anyway, the rest of the day was just english, math, grammar, and normal classes.

When I got back to the alley, Kei wasn't there. I didn't think anything of it. Later, she came back with a couple burns on her. Before I could ask her what happened, she coughs blood at my feet.

"I stole a wallet," She later confesses, "from Endeavour."

I- she wHAT????

"Why him?!? The most aggressive of all pro heroes is who you choose to steal from???"

"He's the one it would affect the least," she said with a shrug, "and plus, the moron was stupid enough to have it hanging out of his pocket."

Well, I can't argue with that.

"Anyway, I've gotten enough to rent an apartment for a couple months, and I've worked enough to get a couple more." She keeps her voice down while saying this, to keep thieves or muggers away. I knew by 'worked', she meant whoring around some rich old man's place. That made me sick. She shouldn’t have to do that. She isn't even an adult yet. She's legal, but that doesn't make it right. They were pedophiles. Gross. But yay for the apartment!

"I've already sent the money to the landlord, so in a few weeks we can move in!" She was so happy. I didn't want to ask about taxes or bills or up front payments.

The next day, about the middle of the day, a strange announcement is made.

"All teachers go to the front door immediately. This is an emergency. Students, get into lockdown. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill." That message was repeated about three times and chaos ensued.

"Oh my god! Do you think it's real??"

"Is there a shooter?"

"Is that why they called the pros? To get him out?"

"Hey, turning the lights off is my job, you're assigned to barricade the door!"

"Is everybody in the classroom?"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"Be quiet!"

Get out of my space, too close!"

"Everybody shut up."

A large boom and the shattering of glass shut everybody up.

"Do you think the pros got it?" A tiny voice whispered.

"Shut it." I whispered back. Briefly glancing at the guy, I see Monoma, with tears in his eyes. He must be really scared...

"Hey, I'm sure it'll be fine," I say, pulling him closer to me and tucking my wing around him, shrouding him in darkness.

We sat there, crouched under the counters for hours, too scared to get out. Eventually, the cops came in and told us there was nothing to be afraid of anymore, and that the heroes handled it and everybody was safe. The one thing they refused to tell us was what the hell happened. Rumors spread about one of the classes being attacked, that Allmight was in critical condition, dying in a hospital, that all of 1 A was dead, etc.

I only found out what really happened from the news in store windows. Apparently, class 1 A was attacked by villains while training. Allmight saved the day.

The next few days, school was closed, so I got extra money from a few random things. It wasn't much, and it sure as hell wasn't going to pay any bills, but it's better than nothing. Nothing real, just a girl who had pity and gives me a dollar to take out the trash for them.

At school, people are starting to notice my smell, and dirtiness. Regardless of that, Monoma has been hanging around me. On my way back to class, I hear a general studies group gossiping about how 1 A is so amazing, and how they defeated so many villains. Then, people started to talk about how 1 A was so much cooler than class 1 B, and they never once mentioned us. Monoma started to get more and more irritated with them.

"I'm sure they're perfectly nice people," I say to Monoma, "Hey, we can go see them later today and meet them."

“Everybody up and to the field, we’ll be doing an endurance training test today.”

(Choice 1: sexy) We got to put our hero costumes on today. I designed mine after Midnight, because 1, she’s my favorite hero, and 2, I like wearing sexy things. It makes me feel powerful and confident. Like, you want to touch but you can’t. My scars really don’t bother me. People don’t usually ask, and I don’t really care, or have a way to hide them even if I wanted to.

(Choice 2:baggy) We got to wear our hero costumes today. Kei had helped me design mine. Something light, easy to move around in, and NO CAPES. They were stupid. Why have one you no? It’s just a piece of fabric flapping around on your back. Plus, my wings. I would prefer something not tight, so I didn’t need to worry about villains looking at me weird. I didn't need to look sexy to save people. I had cargo pants, with pockets, and a hoodie, also pockets, with holes in the bag for wings. Other than that, I gave them creative freedom.

Holy…. crap…. they looked… AMAZING. It was so cool, I looked like a real hero

We did our running, and our pushups, and stretches.

At the end of the day, almost all the students in the whole school crowd the 1 A doorway. Looks like all the other students had the same plan as us. I was pushing my way up front, when a guy slammed the door open.

“What’s going on, why are all these people here.” One kid in the class said.

“Scouting out the enemy shitty hair,” one guy said, “we’re the class that survived a real villain attack.”

(Yes I know mineta says this but I kicked him out. He’s the one who decided not to be a hero. It was too scary for him.)

"Out of the way extras." He glares at all of us. Woah this guy's a real ass. Monoma was right, they are stupid overconfident jerks. Monoma and a lot of kids from my class looked like they had just been slapped.

"Stop calling other people extras just because you don't know them!" A guy with glasses says, looking indignant.

"It's not my fault you all are just stepping stones to my victory." He says as he shoves everyone aside, pushing me back into some really tall guy with lavender hair. He looked tired. Someone bumped into me after Bakugo shoved them, and I tip the poor kid, and we both fall, leaving my face a few inches away from his and my wings fly out catching someone else. Luckily, he doesn't fall. Still on the tired guy, I untangle my wings from his neck, and get off him.

"Sorry." I say as I help him up. He nods and walks over to the door.

"I came to see what the famous class A was like. I heard you guys were impressive, but you just sound like an ass. Are all the students in the hero course like this or just you?" The people in the back shake their heads but he carries on. "How sad to come here and find a bunch of ego maniacs. I wanted to be in the hero course, but like many others I was forced to choose a different track. Such is life. I didn't cut it the first time around, but I have another chance. If any of us do well in the sports festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us to the hero course, and they'll have to transfer people out to make room. Scouting the competition? Well, maybe some of my peers are, but I'm to let you know that if you don't do your very best I'll steal your spot right from under you. Consider this a declaration of war." He stares at the guy, and the guy stares right back.

"HEY YOU! I'M FROM CLASS 1 B NEXT DOOR TO YOU!" It’s Tetsutetsu, yelling at class 1 A. "WE HEARD YOU FOUGHT SOME VILLAINS AND I CAME TO SEE IF THAT WAS TRUE! BUT YOU'RE JUST A BUNCH OF BRATS WHO THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN US! TALK ALL YOU WANT, IT'LL JUST BE MORE EMBARRASSING WHEN YOU'RE KO'D. DON'T YOU IGNORE ME!!!" He yells as the mean one starts walking away in the middle of his speech.

"Hey, aren't you gonna say something?" Someone in class 1A shouts at him.

"These people don't matter." My mouth drops in shock. Before it was rude, but that's just cruel. Saying that nobody but him matters? Wow. What a dick, glad I don't have class with him. "The only thing that matters is that I beat them."

On our way out of school, Tetsutetsu grumbled about that class the whole way. I could tell Monoma was hurt. Maybe he had more of a past than I thought.

#bnha #shifting #fanfic

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dickytwister · 4 years ago

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HEY do you maybe have like an oc page or could you tell me something about all your ocs because i'm Interested and you have my full attention :eyes:

AHSJDKGLHL that's so sweet i'm nfjghl???? i don't have an oc page bc i'm the embodiment of an old man being given an iphone after 50 years of using a rotary phone but !!! i can yell abt them a bit aaa thank you for asking abt them 🥺🥺💚

i put everything under the cut bc dear god i have a lot to say abt my kids and i'm not gonna make everyone scroll through that HHHHHH haw 🤠🤠

elliot fletcher

- he's my deputy in fc5!! he's from waverly in iowa and he's just...very tired nfjfkhl give my poor man a break

- everytime his radio crackles he ages 10 years and if it's john talking add another 10 years

- he keeps the three heralds alive but he doesn't care abt joseph <3

- gets in trouble bc he's impulsive af nfjghl when jacob is close to the cage?? ram his face in the bars. when john leans like rlly close in the confession scene?? headbutt 😌🙏🏼

- the only people who know abt his past are earl, grace, faith and john, the rest just kinda speculate and elliot lets them believe what they want bc not only does he rlly not want ppl to know the actual truth, it's also very funny to listen to the stuff they can come up with

- speaking of faith he often seeks her for advice and sometimes they get high together and he gets teary eyed bc she's just... very nice to him and when all you see everyday is violence it's overwhelming to be shown a little bit of kindness 🥲🙏🏼

- he's in love with john but also he'd kick him across the county if he could but also he'd give his life for him

- after the bombs and all he unlocks his final form and becomes A Husband™, complete with a beard, a scarf and bad jokes that make john want to officially marry him so he can divorce his ass

- fun fact i came up with the name elliot fletcher bc i thought it sounded neat but recently i found out there's a trans actor called elliot fletcher too??? like what were the odds ngl that's so cool

carter quill

- this is my character in the marvel dnd game my brother is dming!!

- his parents are peter quill and kitty pryde and he inherited his mom's powers (so he can become immaterial and stuff uwu) and his dad's tiny pebble brain~

- he grew up on a ship with the guardians so his family is just... a bunch of uncles, one of which is a tree

- he's part of an initiative called the peacekeepers with isaaq cage (luke cage's and jessica jones' son), finneas "zorn" reeves (brock rumlow's and sinthea shmidt's son), lu "highway star" khan (the mandarin's son), alexis "hex" pythagoras (doctor strange's protégé) and ev-lin (ronan the destroyer's daughter who also happens to be carter's bully when they were 11 HHHHHH)

- everyone agrees that carter is just... a puppy. a little labrador. so overexcited. head empty. he doesn't know what's going on but he's having fun with his friends and that's what matters <3

- he died once and went to hell for like 66 years bc he held a bomb while it was exploding but he got better and he doesn't remember most of his time in hell but also he's a lil traumatised

- he wears cute skirts sometimes and also froggie themed clothes 🥰🥰 he's terrible at applying nail polish and it ends up smudged most of the time bc he can't sit still for more than two minutes without going insane but he still likes it

- he has a pet bird called ink!! he thought it was a nice name bc his last name is quill so u know,,, ink,,, quill,,,, he inherited his dad's terrible humor also

- he's fruity and has a big fat crush on one of his teammates 😳😳👉🏼👈🏼

- he strictly refuses to kill, so he uses stunt energy guns and a three section staff to fight!! he accidentally killed someone once and threw up

- he knows asl and is fluent in it!! he's also very bad at reading measurements when cooking (and reading in general) so he relies on their proto-ai, dadji, to help him cook and he listens to audiobooks a lot!!

- idk what else to say abt him except like two games ago he was in the hospital bc lu got hurt and he wanted to get him muffins from a coffee shop across the streets but he panicked when faced with the selection so he bought one of each and came back to the hospital room with like,,,, twenty muffins

- i found this pic of his face claim and it honestly just radiates his vibe so here have it

thorgran galvish

- he's my dwarf enchanter from another homebrew dnd game!! in this universe (and maybe others idk shit abt actual dnd HHHH forgive me) enchanter dwarves are lowkey enslaved bc of their rare link with magic

- thorgran blew up a wall and ran away to the surface so now he's a fugitive and he's constantly on the run uwu trust issues ensue

- he loves the sky so much?? especially at night?? he knows abt constellations, but he thinks they're just whatever you see in the stars and doesn't know there are like,,, actual constellations so he sits on the roof of a tall building sometimes and finds his own constellations

- he also tries to draw them but he rlly sucks at it aslkdsgl that doesn't stop him from filling his journal with little stars and drawings!!

- during my very first game with him he found his rival, who turned out to be a 16 years old teenager?? millennial/gen z rivalry

- agh i don't have much abt him yet bc i've only just started to play him but he's my beefiest boy and also a dilf 🥰🥰

theadric "elder" montajay

- yet another character from the same universe as thorgran, but this time it's a funky little halfling bard

- his instrument is the violin!! he tried every other instrument and his mom was very supportive despite how bad he was at all of them. his community was raided and his father died, so he inherited his violin and that turned out to be the only instrument he could play

- took his love of the economy to the next level when he decided to fuck every gang leader he could find to control their operations and ruin their organizations so the money they hoarded could be put back in circulation

- accidentally fell in love with a half-orc gang leader and was abt to tell him the truth abt what he was doing but was exposed by the first person he'd cheated so he had to run without explaining himself to his lover smh ://

- "i don't wanna fall in the slutty bard cliché," i say before immediately giving elder the tightest leather pants and opening his shirt to show his majestic chest hair.

- surprisingly good with kids?? anyone younger than him who looks sad becomes His Child and he turns into a lil mama, tasting the food of an inn first to assure it's not poisoned, giving hugs, soft shit like that ngl he's just a mom 😔😔

- we abandoned the game he was in but we left off when he'd just escaped a dwarven prison with his new child and others owo anyway slutty bard with chest hair?? that's just the witcher's jaskier

scylla

- my gay pirate lady!! i don't have much abt her either bc AAA BRAINROT but !!! i still love her very much

- she's a hybrid between a human and a psaarinch (fish folks in our homebrew universe uwu) and she looks very human except she has like shark abilities?? she can smell blood, taste with her skin, breathe underwater for like two hours or smth, sharper teeth,,

- she started off as a privateer but like what was the kingdom gonna do?? track her down to make sure everything she did was legal?? nah man she got that sweet fleet and became a pirate

- she beats men up in inns and gives their wives a good time <3

- she's very close to her crew and they're kinda just a big family

- she fights with those s-shaped staffs?? but they're actually blades ngfhl she's very agile and looks like she's dancing when she's actually fighting

- fun fact she's my second shark oc the first one was called maito and she was a yellow lantern in a dc game we did (the main difference between them is that maito loved men while scylla is very much a lesbian 😌🙏🏼)

i have like so many more of them but that's already such a long post and i don't wanna do too much NGL if u wanna know more hmu i'll yell some more 😎😎🙏🏼🙏🏼

#thanks so much for asking abt my ocs man wha t #i'm still like terrified of posting abt my ocs bc :)) but i love talking abt them!! esp elliot and carter they're rlly my bestest boys the #my ocs: elliot fletcher #my ocs: carter quill #my ocs: thorgran galvish #my ocs: elder #my ocs: scylla #god i wanna rant abt my inquisitor too i ???? okay #better luck next time!! my brain is on fire #might fuck around and post abt him soon anyway hehe #nuclearvessel #answered;#i'm gonna queue this bc i'm genuinely scared of posting it HHHH #i tried the new tumblr editor thing it better work or i'll shove an entire wii remote up my ass #i literally have so much to say abt carter it's actually insane

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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years ago

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#3 with Sternclay? If you could, from Stern’s perspective? He’s one of my favorite characters and I love how you write him :)

Thanks, I love writing from his perspective! Prompt 3 was “Song” and went with SFW

Joseph Stern has more house than he knows what to do with. His father has given him this building on the coast of Virginia, no doubt in hopes of hiding his eccentric--and only remaining--son from polite society.

But the house may as well be a cave, a country full of strangers, a vast and cold space that Stern has no idea how to fill beyond the ghosts of the past it already contains. He has no lovers, no children, and the servants, used to his father’s temperament rather than his, give him a wide berth. And so he fills it with his books, his research into the strange and unusual, politely eats the meals the elderly cook prepares even though his eyesight seems to have given him the habit of mistaking one spice for another.

He’s also taken to having a nightly constitutional along the beach. It’s stormy and grey more often than not, but it suits his mood. Usually he’s perfectly alone. But tonight he must not be, because on the wind, he hears someone singing.

While the raging seas did roar

And the stormy winds they did blow,

And we jolly sailor boys was up, up aloft

And the landlubbers lying down below, below, below,

And the landlubbers lying down below.

It’s a rich baritone, longing and sad, and Stern wanders the beach up and down twice before he gives up on finding the singer. He resigns himself to it being a one time occurrence.

But the next night, the voice finds him again.

As we lay musing on our bed,

So early morn at ease,

We thought upon those lodging beds

Poor sailors have at sea.

This time he follows it through the second chorus of the song. And there, in the fading grey light of evening, a man is perched on an outcropping of rocks. He has shaggy hair, and even in the poor light Stern catches sight of copper within it. His beard is messy, and he’s bare-chested, a baffling choice in this weather.

As Stern makes his way across a nearby patch of rising tide, he loses his balance and splashes onto his knees.

By the time he looks up, the song is over and the man is gone, though he sees no sign of him upon the beach.

The third night, Stern is ready. He finds the outcropping, hiding himself down out of view of all but one side of the shore and sea.

Just as he’s starting to shiver and curse his poor judgement, a low, sweet humming begins. It’s the same melody, and he wants to dive into the voice, let it drown him if need be. The man hums a good portion of the song before his voice carries across the windy shore.

I'm sorry for my mother dear,

I'm lost in the salt, salt sea.

For last night, last night, the moon shone bright,

And you know that she had sons five,

Tonight she may look in the salt, salt waves

And find but one alive, alive,

And find but one alive.

The singing ceases, and in it’s place he hears a sigh. Cautiously, he sits so that the man can see him.

“That was wonderful.”

The man starts, turns to leave and Stern, in a moment of unusual impulsiveness, grabs his arm, “Wait, please, I just wanted...to..say…” He stares at the silver and blue tail that starts at the mans waist.

“Please let go.” The man says with the air of someone trying very hard to mask their panic with calm.

Stern drops his arm at once.

“I, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’ve heard you singing the last few nights and I wanted to see who you were, I meant to show myself right away but I got caught up in the song.”

Brown eyes narrow, “Is that all you want?”

“Yes. I’ll admit I also have a multitude of questions based on this new development.” He gestures to the tail, “but-”

A wave crests, drenching them both.

“Damn it.” He shivers.

The merman chuckles, “yeah, that’s why all sensible humans stay off these rocks.”

“I’m plenty sensible.” Stern mutters, shivers again. The merman seems to reach for a coat that isn’t there, then sets his hands on the stones.

“Come back at midday tomorrow if you really do want to talk.”

“Should I bring anything? Something for your trouble.?”

Calloused fingers drum on the rocks, “Cake? Or even just bread?”

“I can manage that.” He holds out his hand and the merman shakes it, then dives into the rolling sea without another word.

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

“Uh, I don’t mean to be rude but where the hell did you get this bread?” The merman, who introduced himself as Barclay when they met at the edge of the waves, looks down at the chunk of bread skeptically.

“My cook made it. I, um, am trying my hand at it as well. For perhaps obvious reasons.”

“I could teach you. Or at least tell you what to do so you could write it down.”

“How on--are there ovens underwater?”

“No” Barclay tosses the remaining bread to a waiting gull, “I remember from, well, from before.”

“You became merman rather than being born one?” He wants to press further, but the sorrow darting across Barclay’s face suggests that is unwise.

“The ship I was one went down. I...well, I tried to save people. According to one of the few other mers I know, if someone dies at sea while trying to do a selfless act, sometimes that’s enough for them to turn into mer. Not really clear on the mechanics beyond that.”

“Incredible.”

“Glad you think so.” Barclay’s expression is turning glum, and so Stern tries a different line of conversation.

“Are sea monsters real?”

Barclay chuckles, “Gonna ask about those instead of sunken wrecks laden with gold?”

“Those are far less interesting.”

“Kraken is real, sort of. There are some very large squid down there. Fish bigger than you can imagine, sharks too.”

“Say more.” Stern offers him the flash of tea he brought and Barclay eagerly accepts it.

“Well, some of them are harmless--are you writing this down?”

“Just for my own records. Please, keep going.”

And so pass their first few meetings, Stern electing to bring Barclay food from town after the first time, reveling in his delight at the meals. They eat and talk, Barclay eventually comfortable enough with Stern to come fully ashore. On warmer, sunny days they even lay side by side on their backs, and sometimes Barclay’s tail will brush or tap Sterns leg.

He doesn’t mind at all.

One day, after Barclay bemoans his inability to trim his beard to his liking (“water and sharp metal aren’t friends), Stern comes down to the water with his razor, soap, hand mirror, and brush, swearing that if he can successful keep himself clean shaven in the terrible mirrors in the house, he can trim Barclay’s beard without disaster. And so Barclay lays, tail in the surf and head in Sterns lap, as the man meticulously sets about his task.

When he’s done, Barclay sits up and looks into the hand mirror.

“That’s much better. You got some clever hands there, Joseph.” He grins and Stern tries to distract himself from the double meaning by brushing stray sand from his beard.

This backfires harder than a mis-built canon. Barclay rests his hand atop Sterns own, rubbing his cheek against his palm with a sigh.

“You take such good care of me, Joseph. God, if I weren’t as I am, I’d take such good care of you right back.” His free hand traces the line of Stern’s cheekbone, dips down to caress his jaw.

“You, you’ve been wonderful as well, I’ve learned so much, and it’s so nice to pass the time with you, even if you cannot follow me home or takeover the kitchen.”

“I could be even better to you, if you’d let me.”

“I will let you do whatever you want.” Stern shuts his eyes to better feel the touch of Barclay’s hands, “I will follow you like a beacon.”

The hands leave his skin. When he opens his eyes to search for the reason, Barclay’s tanned face has gone pale.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no it’s, I, just, you reminded me of something.” He pulls away from Stern, turning to face the sea. Stern doesn’t follow, although he aches to.

“Would you feel better if I left?” He asks softly.

Barclay shakes his head, “No, but I’ll feel better, in a way, if I say this. I told you I was in a shipwreck. That much is true. I told you I was a cook before, that was true as well. But what I didn’t tell you was that I was a cook one town over, for a family who was, well, they had more than enough money but that didn’t stop them from wanting more. So once a month, at the new moon, they’d go to the cliffs by the rockiest, most dangerous part of the coastline and hold up lanterns.”

“They were wreckers.”

A solemn nod, “When the ship was sunk, they’d go down the next morning and plunder the wreck. I never helped them, but I knew what they were doing long before I tried to stop it. Then one night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rowed out to the target, tried to tell them not to go towards those lights. They wouldn’t listen, held me prisoner thinking it was a trap. When she went down, just as the water covered my head, my legs twisted and changes into a tail and I could breathe beneath the waves. Making me the only man to make it off the Golden Willow alive.”

Stern gasps, covers his mouth in shock.

“The Golden Willow was the ship my brother was on when he died. A merchant, traveling with his stock.”

“I’m sorry.” Barclay’s eyes are wet, and Sterns turn that way as well as the mer dives into the sea, shame etched in his face.

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

Call for boats, call for boats, my fair Plymouth boys,

Do you hear how the trumpets sound?

For the want of a long-boat in the ocean we're lost

And most of our merry men drowned.

“I don’t blame you, you know?” Stern stands in the sand, several books clutched to his chest.

Barclay doesn’t reply, but does turn to look at him.

“And, if I’m right, you think your being a merman is as much a curse for your inaction as it is a blessing for your attempt to save the ship and her men.”

A nod, accompanied by Barclay wiping a palm beneath his eye, “God, I miss so much. I, I’m glad I’m not dead, but I miss my kitchen, I miss the markets on summer mornings, food that isn’t fish.” He flicks his tail in frustration, “I miss sleeping in featherbed, not that I ever really got to being a cook and all, I miss my friends, my little sister, everyone.”

As he speaks, Stern hurries up the rocks to join him, guides him into his arms. He doesn’t cry, but he breathes heavily, holds tightly to the front of Stern’s coat.

“I looked through my library, did hours of research,” he inclines his head towards the books, “I found a few supposed means of transforming a merman into a human. I have no idea what is myth or anecdote and what, if anything, will work. But if you want to be human again, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Barclay whispers, and Stern continues holding him, face stinging with salt spray, and stroking the planes of his tail soothingly until the other man is ready to let go.

Over the next several weeks, they try every potion, prayer, and process Stern was able to find, all to no avail. They’re sitting, dejected, side by side on the sand, when Stern spots one recommendation he dismissed as the stuff of fairy-tales.

“I have something to try. Um, please close your eyes, because I have a feeling I’m about to look very silly.”

Barclay obliges. Stern cups his cheeks, kisses him soundly, certain this will be the only time he gets to do so, no matter how much he longs to do it each day.

Barclay chuckles, eyes still shut, “Was that really a suggestion, or just an excuse to-”

Then he groans, head falling forward to rest on Stern’s shoulder, his whole body convulsing. Stern watches in awe as his tail slowly shimmers and dissolves, leaving feet and legs in it’s place.

“Really? Really? That was the solution?” Stern giggles, “of all the nonsense I read, I didn’t think ‘kiss of a lover true’ was worth a second look.”

“Kiss of what now?” Barclay shakes his head to clear it with a woozy, yet knowing, smile.

“I, um, I-” Stern blushes, both from his admission and from spying that Barclay is now completely naked.

“Joseph” Barclay kisses his cheek and he melts into the sand, “you think that after all that talk of wanting to treat you well, I wouldn’t want you kissing me?”

“I didn’t want to presume.”

“You can presume whatever you want. Fuck, Joseph, I’m in love with you and you just gave me the one thing I thought I’d lost, you could ask anything and I’ll give it.”

“In that case, would you come home with me? Though we may want to get you some clothes first.”

“What? Not enjoying the view?” He rolls onto his back, and Stern gets a full glimpse of just how good a view it is before shielding his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.” He smiles, laughs when Barclays beard tickles his throat and his teeth nip his ear, “but I think it would be enjoyed even more in my nice, feather bed. Don’t you?”

#mermay fills #sternclay #agent stern/barclay

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imaginesforallkindoflove · 4 years ago

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A lil piece of writing for me and Felix :3 hope you guys will enjoy it!

Warning: mention of torture

"Let me go you rat!" I yelled with my french accent as the infamous Captain Hook put me over his shoulders. "Unhand me now connard!"

I continued to punch his back, but the black haired man didn't let go of me for a good five minutes. I tried to bite him, kicking him in his private parts but nothing seemed to hurt him enough.

I gasped as he threw on the dirty ground of the Dark Jungle, in front of a blond haired woman with a sword, a man, a woman with short hair who looked at me almost in pity, and another woman with black hair who seemed very angry at me. I growled and tried to stand up but the angry woman forced me down with the help of magic, earning a "Regina!" from the other black haired woman.

"Who the fuck are you?" I growled. "What do you want? Hook, what is the meaning of this? Again you kidnapped me? Haven't you learn your lesson by now?"

"Come on, girlie, it's not for that I am here. You see, the boy who allows you to live here, Pan-"

"He took my son Henry and the captain guyliner told us you might have an idea where his camp is at." Regina cut him as she glared at me.

"I won't tell you anything." I said, knowing damn well the location of the camp.

The adults didn't seem surprised by my animosity toward them. They turned and started whispering among themselves, leaving me alone with the pirate again. It would be easy.

I suddenly stood up and turned to leave. I really wanted to escape them, who knows what they will do to me? Hook knows that I know where the lost boys are at, and I know that he will torture me to get answers. He was a pirate after all.

Unfortunately, my breathing stopped and I felt choked. Regina appeared next to me, her hand raised as she was choking me. The short black haired woman ran toward her.

"Regina let her go!"

"She tried to escape."

"Listen, violence won't solve anything! There must be a reason why she is on this island, and she must be afraid of Pan. Maybe if we treat her nicely she won't try to run away from us and she could help us!" The woman pleaded.

"Snow, it's not like that things seems to work around here."

"So what do we do now?" The man said as he approached us and tied my hands behind my back.

"Let's bring her to our camp. Maybe she will talk when she will be hungry." Regina suggested.

A lot of hours passed and I couldn't find any sleep. I was in a very uncomfortable situation, and those adults… why do they care. I don't have a lot of memories from my past lives because here, happy memories fade away quickly. I always shared the disdain for adults with the lost ones.

I thought of Felix then. What will he do if he finds my cottage empty? Will he search for me? He told me once that if anyone would dare to take me away from him, he will wage a war against the person, with the lost boys. I smiled thinking of him.

"Why are you smiling?" A voice asked.

I turned my head to see Emma Swan, the pretentious saviour. She was very annoying, always babbling about her past, always saying things that didn't make sense.

"It's none of your business." I snapped.

"I know why she is: thinking of her lover." Hook smirked as he approached me.

I stopped breathing and turned my head at him, with wide eyes. How could he know? Our relationship was secret… No, he must be bluffing.

"What are you talking about? I have no lover, it's forbidden when you live on Neverland. Stop with your nonsense old man."

"If you think Felix will come running to save you, it's not the case, sweetheart." The pirate announced mockingly as Emma watched him carefully.

"Felix?" She asked.

"The boy I was fighting when Pan disguised himself as Henry. The two have a very very close friendship then. I never seen a lost boy running so fast when I was holding that poor dear little healer over the sea, as sharks circled the ship. I know her fears Miss Swan, we could use them at our advantage."

I was breathing heavily at the mention of sea and sharks. Sharks in Neverland were born bigger and they were true monsters, attacking anything that came too close to them. The sea terrified me too. Emma Swan showed a more sympathetic face toward me when Hook mentioned my fears.

"You know nothing about me pirate." I growled.

"Hook, leave her alone." Snow White said, she must have heard us. "I will talk with her."

I rolled my eyes. What does she want with me? Why is everyone asking me questions? Why don't they skip directly to the torture session? Snow White knelt besides me, with a kind smile.

"So is Hook saying the truth?"

I knew what she was speaking about so I nodded my head a little, my hair falling over my face. It was humiliating.

"Listen, we don't want to hurt you. We just want my son, Henry." Emma voices quietly. "Do you know where he is?"

Oh god I hated them. I closed my eyes. I couldn't tell them. It would mean betraying Felix, betraying my friends that I have in the lost boys. Even if I hated Pan with every fiber of my being I couldn't tell them.

"I can't tell you." I whispered, tears forming in my eyes.

Why was I crying? Why?

"Are you afraid of Pan? We can protect you." Snow said worriedly.

"No… I am not scared of him. I don't… I will not tell you." I firmly told them.

Felix will come save me. He always comes for me. Right?

"It is leading us no where, Snow." The man, David, exclaimed as he walked toward me with Regina at his side. "I hate to say this but maybe… we could… forcefully take information from her?"

"Touch her and I cut your hand." A monotonous and a little creepy voice said.

We all turned our heads to see a small group of lost boys, led by Felix. I tried not to smile or to sound too relieved, no one didn't need to know. They stopped in front of the adults, the Evil Queen using her magic already.

"Give her back our healer. Now." Felix ordered.

"Why should we do that?" Emma asked.

Felix smirked. It was one of his smiles, when he knows something that no one does, the one which say "I won loser". I stared at him.

"We love games. Pan wants you to play a second one." He had a paper in his hands. "With this you will find the location of our camp. But, you will have it once she will be free." He finished darkly.

The adults looked at each other, weighing their options. Couldn't they decide quicker?

"Fine." Emma breathed out as the captain cut my bonds. "You're free to go." She announced.

I rose up to my feet and jogged over the side of the lost boys. Felix looked at me relieved, but his stare turned emotionless and cold once again as he handed the map to Emma.

We turned to disappear in the jungle. I hoped they didn't follow us, would be a shame really. They would die faster in that way. We inhabitants of Neverland know all the way around here. The lost boys all went back to the camp but as Felix went to walk me up to my cottage. When we arrive there and as he turned to leave, I grabbed him by his cloak. He bent over by surprise and I kissed him. I could feel him smile against my lips and his hands traveled to my hair and head, bringing me closer.

"What was that for?" He asked quietly.

"For saving me." I smiled. "My hero~." I purred as I hugged him.

"I have to go." He kissed my nose. "I love you." And then my lips.

I watched him go, already missing his presence. I held on the necklace he gifted me, when he promised he will never let anyone hurt me. And he did accomplish his promise.

#n speaks #my f/os #felix #f/os #self shipping #self shipping community #self ship imagine #self ship #self ship imagines #self insert #f/o #self ship community #f/o imagines

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randomguywithwords · 5 years ago

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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 8 (Dabi X Geten Slowburn)

Previous Chapters: 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

“Hey.” Dabi slammed the door behind him. Apocrypha didn’t turn around.

“You have 10 seconds to leave my room.” Was her soft greeting. It wasn’t a growl nor a hiss, more of a polite threat, and that signified something Dabi couldn’t pinpoint.

Dabi bit back a retort. If he hadn’t just talked with Dabi, he would have shot back with, “Or?” He leaned against the door. “Look, since we’re commanding this squad as equals,” He said, resisting a snort on the last word, “can we put a pause on this?”

“I don’t believe in ceasefires. They only lead to betrayal.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not going to. Even if I wanted to, Shigaraki wouldn’t let me.”

“Really?” She replied with sardonicism. “You mean to say your leader would favour me, an enemy-turned-ally, over you, one of his allies from before the merger?”

Ugh, when you put it like that...Dabi pulled his face with a groan. “He’s our –” He forced out the next word sourly. “Leader now.”

“Hm.” She turned around. “I find that hard to believe.”

“He’s still in the council room, if you need proof. Go ask him yourself.” Dabi jerked a thumb at the door.

“I don’t want anything to do with your leader.”

Dear god. Dabi closed his eyes and took a breath. “Fine, all I came here is to tell you that I’m going to be looking through our squad. I have their information here. Would you like to join me or keep staring at the window?”

“Do it here then. And you only need to tell me their Meta Abilities. I will know them.”

“If you say so. I’m gonna sit down.”

Receiving no reply, he muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.” Plopping himself down on the sofa, he took out the papers in his pockets and read out, feeling quite stupid, but at least she wasn’t trying to impale him.

“There’s only three we need to care about. The rest are cannon fodder. First up, some guy with a quirk called Ethershark.”

“Charioteer,” Geten responded immediately. He’s decent, but he’s useless if his husk is attacked while he’s activating his quirk. Otherwise, he’s ideal for causing chaos and providing a distraction.”

“Uh huh…” Dabi scanned the information on him. “So he summons a ghost shark and his body can’t move.” He whistled. “Sounds cool.”

He heard Geten scoff, drawing his attention. She still was staring out the window. “Do you judge the efficacy of meta abilities based on how flashy they are? That’s a poor criteria.”

“Lighten up, will you?” Dabi said, a flicker of anger passing over his expression. “Anyway, the second guy’s quirk is Gasoline.”

Geten made a noise — a noise so foreign and unnatural Dabi’s head shot up in alarm. It took him a brief moment, a click in his head, to realise that she was laughing.

“Him? He’s one of the strongest ones in our squad?” She said, guffawing, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle it, to little effect. “The standards have really fallen, haven’t they?”

“It synergizes with my quirk very well. Maybe that’s why Shigaraki put him under me.” Dabi said the last sentence more to himself. Damn, he actually planned this decently.

“I hope so,” She snorted, and it amazed Dabi that for once, she wasn’t the target of her disdain and hatred. “Otherwise, all he can do is make people slip, or if he actually managed to use one of his lit matches. Either way, I could easily defeat him.”

“I’m sure you could,” Dabi humoured.

“Stop with your sarcasm. It’s infuriating,” Geten shot with that emotionless voice of hers.

“Stop with your hypocrisy. It’s infuriating,” Dabi replied, met with silence. Shit, is she going to –

“Whatever.” Was her dismissal. Dabi blinked. Is she really like this now?

Then it hit him. Their fight. She thought she had lost. She thought he had fire left in him. She had no idea he had been equally powerless then. That means...hmm...

“Anyway,” He continued, trying to keep his voice passive as a smile crept over his face. “The last guy, his is called Beatdown.”

“What?”

“What, what?”

“What’s his quirk?” She sounded bewildered.

“Beatdown. He has enhanced stamina and muscle strength. His nerves become more resistant to damage as he becomes more – Hey!” Dabi said indignantly as his paper was snatched from Geten, who scanned through it with wild eyes.

“Is he one of yours? Another criminal?” She interrogated.

“No, he’s from your army. What’s the big deal?” Dabi leaned back on the sofa, annoyed. “Not like you guys aren’t always trying to hook new people in.”

“This man. I don’t know him. I should. I know everyone.”

“What? All hundred thousand of you guys?”

“Only the strong ones. It narrows the list by quite a bit. And this man, whoever he is, his ability is strong. I would have noticed it. Someone’s been hiding him, and...maybe more.” Geten ended the sentence mumbling to herself, her eyes gradually unfocusing. She dropped the paper onto his lap, heading towards the door.

“Should I ask where you’re going?” Dabi said.

“No.”

The door slams behind her, leaving Dabi alone in her room. He frowned, picking up the information sheet on the Beatdown guy.

“Why’s she freaking out about that guy? Jeez…” Dabi studied his quirk for a while before deciding that it was an admittedly powerful quirk.

He looked around the empty hotel room. Geten had been holed up here since the night after their victory over the Liberation Army, and while it was tidied up slightly, it was still messy. Her bed was a mattress on the floor, and Dabi thought about the room he had in Re-destro’s mansion. It was filthy with wealth, but if he got to exploit it, he wasn’t complaining. He wondered why Geten still stayed here.

He stood up, surveying the room. He saw what looked like a notebook on the desk and snatched it. Flipping through the pages yellowed from age, he saw the first few pages filled with handwriting exercises. Messy scrawls that slowly straightened out into neat repetitive words meant for practices. Then, it was someone’s journal. Hers? Possibly.

He sat down on the chair next to the desk and began to read.

4/2/01 Thursday

Very tired. I spent the whole day training. I can separate an ice cube into two now. The Grand Commander said he wanted me to be able to split one into five by the end of the week. Hope I can do it.

7/2/01 Sunday

I disappointed the Grand Commander. He did that thing again. It hurts, but he told me he would stop once I could split an ice cube into 5 pieces. I can’t disappoint him again. I’ll make him proud.

I tried to put some ice on the bruises and make them stay as cold as possible. Maybe this is also part of my training.

Dabi slammed the journal on the table with shaking hands, and then slowly backed away.

I’ll make you proud, father. I’ll make ice, and fire.

“Fuck,” He murmured. He repeated that word to himself over and over again as he left the room. Why’d you read it? Bad idea, very bad idea.

He scrambled to the bathroom. He plunged his hands into the sink and began to wash them. He wasn’t sure what he was scrubbing off. He gasped as the familiar pain latched onto his arms and bit. It was milder than usual, but it still hurt.

Looking into the mirror once more, he saw more than himself now. He saw Touya Todoroki as a boy, a boy emboldened with a purpose to be the strongest Todoroki. At the same time, he saw a poor girl forced to do Re-destro’s bidding, till she...Dear god.

This sick, twisted army.

Dabi hated them now more than ever.

–––––

Btw, I’ve been cross-posting these to other sites, and they’re technically edited versions although I haven’t been actually doing that. But the edited versions are there, sort of. Every chapter here is the first draft.

My Ao3, Wattpad and FF.net are all under the same username: CompletelyAnonymous.

Story-wise, I really hope I didn’t make this reveal too early. Might regret this decision later on, but it’s a scene I’ve been wanting to write for a while because it’s a turning point in how Dabi views Geten. Also, uh, I’m no good at writing child abuse and it’s a touchy subject. Very sorry to those who take offense if the portrayal is not proper, and I’ll be willing to do the necessary further research and revisions.

#bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #dabi #geten #dabiten #dabi x geten #geten x dabi #bnha geten #mha geten #bnha dabi #mha dabi #ATDS

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azritesx3 · 5 years ago

Text

“A Devil’s Love” Chapter 2: Show Me All I Don’t Know

Description: Chloe’s best friend is back, and Lucifer’s charm can’t seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something…more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]

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AN: Updated March 14, 2020 - Grammar AN: Updated July 14, 2020 - Grammar/Minor changes

Rating: Teen Warning[s]: Swearing

Show Timeline: Season 2 Episode 9

Spotify Playlist /// AO3 Fanfiction Net Wattpad DeviantArt

Tag List: @ayanna-wild, @anushay1998, @emiwrites3reads, @i-am-canada-13, @heart-of-pots-and-pans, @tinyybiceps, @jessicarene99, @lucifersnipnips, @givemebooksorgivemedeath, @sailor-earth-1

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To say your first couple months back home was a walk in the park would be a big fat lie.

Nothing bad really happened. Well, except when your BFF got in that bad car accident and you swore up and down it had something to do with you, but she pushes you away and says she's fine and can't stand you and Lucifer taking the blame.

Why would Lucifer be taking the blame, you thought. So, you ask him. Like any sane person would do who was overprotective of their friends. If you ended up being wrong about this guy being “good” and “nice”, you had to get him away from Chloe.

But no. He's not bad. Just crazy. What with continuing with his “Devil” shtick and claiming it was one of his “Angel” brothers trying to take what his father, aka “God”, gave him in exchange for a favor.

And you thought you were crazy before, but it wasn't true for you, so why would it be true for him?

Oh, and after that whole fiasco poor Chloe finds out that her real father’s killer has been free all this time. No reprimanding, no worries. Just a cop killer who got to continue his life freely. Turns out the killer was Warden Perry Smith, and he was responsible for many set up kills. You remember the failure you felt when Smith managed to destroy his scent from your hounds. The bastard didn’t get far, though. Maze managed to easily capture him, and from then on became the LAPD’s number one bounty hunter.

But, with all that bad came a lot of good. Not easily, of course. It's hard work trying to find a suitable building in the perfect location for your next veterinarian hospital. You, with the help of your trusty sidekick Alice, managed to find just that though.

Next, while you sorted out the building paperwork and searched for a good construction company, you had to find a place to live. That, thankfully, went much quicker than finding the next “Circle of Life Veterinary Clinic” building.

Chloe kept trying to convince you to move in with her instead of Maze, but you politely declined. You didn't want to be the one who made that badass fighter homeless. Besides, you like having your own space.

And to top all that off, you got your old job back as the Captain of the K9 division of the LAPD. You missed training your dogs & officers, plus having that paycheck, the paycheck from the “COL VC” in New York, and the future paycheck of the next “COL VC” building allowed you to not stress financially.

Currently, you are standing in “COL VC #2” watching the progress come along. You smile as you see how well, and fast, things are going. If this keeps up, you'll be able to open up within the month.

Which means you and Alice need to start hiring people.

You sigh to yourself and rub your forehead, closing your eyes. First things first, you had to find some way to properly thank Lucifer for giving you the name of this construction company.

“They are a fantastic company! Did very fine work in my club. Why not come see for yourself tonight?” Lucifer looked at you like he looked at Alice the first day.

“Not a chance.” You smiled at him and crossed your arms, building up a barrier.

“Oooh, playing hard to get are we?” He licked his lips and looked you up and down, “I like it!”

“Ok. This was obviously a bad idea.” You huffed and started to leave Chloe’s desk.

“Wait, K9!” You stopped and turned back towards him, “I’m sorry, truly.” he looked sincere and placed his right hand over his heart, “Here.” He grabbed the yellow sticky notes and a pen from Chloe’s desk and began to write.

“Just tell the owner that you’re with me.” He handed you the note and smiled, “He'll give you a large discount, I'm sure.”

You looked down at the note and couldn't help the thought of how beautiful Lucifer’s handwriting was, “Thank you, Lucifer.” You looked up at him and smiled, a genuine one this time.

“You’re quite welcome, my dear.” He gave you a genuine smile back, then turned flirtatious again, “Though I would like you to come to my club, so you can see what those constructors are really capable of. It’s so sad their talents will be wasted on an animal clinic.”

“Uh-huh.” You shook your head, still smiling, and walked away.

Your phone’s ringtone knocks you back to the present. The call says it’s Chloe, but when you answer it-

“SOME DADDY KILLER BOY IS GOING TO MAKE ME HOMELESS!” Lucifer’s voice blares through your phone so loud that the workers around turn towards you and you swear your ear is bleeding.

“Sooo, you think the perfect way to stop this ‘Daddy Killer Boy’ is to make me go deaf? Well, you’re doing very well so far.” You bring your phone to your none deaf ear and rub the now deaf one.

“The Detective won’t help me-” you can hear Chloe yelling at him in the background saying to give back her phone. You hear a bit of a scuffle, and can imagine Chloe shaking her head as she gets her phone.

“Sorry about that, Earth. Calling you is the only way I can think of to help Lucifer.” You can tell Chloe is saying that last part to him directly, and can just imagine his eye roll.

“What’s going on?”

“Our new case victim is Dean Cooper.”

“That LA real-estate tycoon guy?”

“Yup. It looks like he died having dinner with his possible killer. The killer looks to have shattered a champagne glass and stuck a shard in Dean's throat.”

“Ouch.”

“Ella’s still at the crime scene trying to piece the glass back together in order to get fingerprints.”

“Oh, Ella.” You smile and shake your head, “What a good little scientist.”

“Agreed, if a bit crazy.” Chloe holds in a laugh, “Well, Mr. Cooper was the one who owned the block that Lucifer’s nightclub is on and it seems like Mr. Eric Cooper, Dean's son, is pretty quick in reclaiming his father’s properties.”

“I see…So I’m guessing he’s suspect numero uno?”

“Yes, but this is why I’m calling you,” Chloe gives an audible stressful sigh, “I just...I can’t seem to keep my mind on this case with the court on Perry Smith right around the corner. Plus, with my mom flying in tonight and Dan being busy with a bomb case-”

“You don’t need to say anymore, Chlo. I’ll take care of this. Just send me the address to the crime scene and I’ll take over.”

“Thank you, Earth.” You can just hear the weight lift off your BFF’s shoulder, “I’ll text you the details right now. I owe you one.”

“This is what friends do for each other, Chloe. You should know that by now.” Before you hang up you can hear Lucifer in the background, “Hurry along, K9! Every minute I get closer to homelessness!”

“Proper thank you, here I come.”

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

As you pull up to the crime scene you see the medics carrying away a body bag, aka Dean Cooper. So there will be no need to worry about seeing a dead man, but there is an angry British man heading straight towards you.

“Finally! Does my homelessness mean nothing to you?” Lucifer says, but despite being upset he still opens your car door and helps you out.

“Lucifer you’re, like, a zillionaire or whatever.” You nod your thanks and you both head inside the dead man's house, “I highly doubt you’d let yourself be ‘homeless’ for more than an hour, at most.”

“But this is LUX, K9.” You try to ignore Lucifer’s desperation and come up beside Ella, who was just about to complete the champagne glass puzzle.

“Annnd, that’s how we do it!” Ella manages to place the last piece perfectly, stands up and shoves her fist in front of your face, “Ta’vonlu!”

“A puzzle solver and a Trekkie?” You laugh and smile, “Ella, I’m liking you more and more each day.”

“Woohoo! Fellow Trekkie!” Ella’s hand goes from a fist to the Vulcan greeting and you return it. Lucifer’s eye roll is incredibly loud.

Ella gets back to work on scanning the glass for fingerprints and in the meantime, an officer hands you a folder of all info found about Dean Cooper. As you skim through the words you become disappointed, and impressed. It was amazing that a shark like Cooper had no record whatsoever.

“So, can we go to this baby shark now to arrest him and get my home back?” Lucifer stands in front of you, hands intertwined together in front of him.

“We don’t have any proof with which to arrest Eric.” You look at him as you hand the folder back to the officer.

“He has motive. That's all the proof you need!”

“Actually, you may have more than that!” Ella calls out and you go to her. She points to her laptop screen where it clearly states that Eric Cooper’s fingerprints were on the glass that killed his father.

“There you go! Come on chop chop!” Lucifer pushes you by the small of your back out the door and to your car, “We’ve got a baby shark to arrest!”

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

You barley park and shut off the engine before Lucifer is out and heading towards the Cooper building, “Lucifer wait!”

“You know, you drive just as slow as the Detective?” Lucifer stops and waits for you to catch up.

“If by slow you mean ‘following traffic laws’ then yeah.” Lucifer just scoffs, “Look, Lucifer.” he looks at you with a bit of interest, he’s never heard you sound serious before.

“I understand how you’re feeling right now, I do,” you lightly touch his arm, “but Chloe has told me how you get sometimes and let me tell you: threatening to tear this guy up or torture him is not going to help you get LUX back, or this case.”

“Very well.” He returns his hand to your lower back and guides you, “I solemnly promise that the man will remain unthreatened and unharmed.”

The sound of a crash and a car alarm blaring causes you both to stop and turn around.

Eric Cooper lays on top of some poor civilian’s car. His body bleeding from almost every pore.

“Not me.” Lucifer holds up his hands in fake surrender.

“Well, shit.”

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

You did miss solving cases. Really, you did.

But this one was turning into a real sack of ass.

Eric Cooper was hospitalized for a full twenty-four hours before the hospital allowed his wife, Christi Cooper, to take him home.

A whole twenty-four hours closer to Lucifer's homelessness, and he would not shut up about it.

You and Lucifer arrive at the Cooper house to question Eric and Christi, but all you two got was another real estate shark’s name, Eleanor Bloom. Plus an extra case of nausea for both of you at the sappy love between Eric and Christi.

Eleanor, it turns out, was a real shark. Making sure Eric wasted no time in selling her that property that his father had been sitting on. That property in question was LUX, and even with Lucifer’s charm she was not giving up that land.

Which pissed Lucifer enough to abandon you with this case. Chloe offered to help, but with her father’s killer’s court so close there was no way you were going to burden her even more. You already swore you would solve this case for her, and you meant it.

You follow up on Eleanor's lead, alone, about some shady numbers found in her accountant's books that looked like someone was hiding money. Turns out that money went to some private investigator Dean had hired to investigate someone, but the man wouldn't tell you who. You had a hunch though.

Your hunch had to be put on hold though as one of your officers comes up to you. He says they got a call about an illegal party happening at a building that was supposed to be abandoned by now.

Of course he would.

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

You stand before the “supposed to be abandoned” LUX nightclub with an entourage of your officers, and just sigh.

Here we go.

You have your men walk in first with you close behind, and you can hear the music cut off and people booing as soon as they see your men.

“Awww!” You hear Lucifer’s voice clearly over the crowd, “Stormtroopers have arrived, everyone! Don’t worry I’ll deal with the boys in blue.” Lucifer walks towards the officers, “You are the boys in blue, yes? The fun boys in blue aren’t due for another hour.” He chuckles and shows a wad of cash in front of your main guy, Officer Miller.

Miller just gives Lucifer a side smile and looks to his side. Lucifer follows his eye movement and his smile disappears as you walk up.

“K9?”

“I know him, Miller. I got it from here.” You ignore Lucifer and look to your officer.

“You’re sure ma’am?”

“Oh yeah.” Now you look at Lucifer as you pat Miller on the shoulder, “He’s harmless.” You don’t speak again until all the officers have left, “I got to say Lucifer, I’m disappointed.”

You think your eyes might be deceiving you, but Lucifer Morningstar actually looks ashamed. You don't know why, but you actually can’t stand to see him like that.

“I mean,” you throw your hands up and turn around a full 360, “this is the first time I come to your club and you’ve got no music playing, and no one dancing around with no worries?”

You smile at him, cross your arms and raise a brow, “Tisk tisk. I may have to leave a one-star review afterall.”

“Oh ho ho!” Lucifer's light returns in him, “Well, I can’t have that now can I?” He’s smiling ear to ear now, “TURN IT UP!”

The crowd cheers as the music comes back full blast. Everyone resumes their dancing, drinking, laughing, and you can’t help but laugh right along with them.

“K9!” You turn to Lucifer who gives you that beautiful smile, “I didn't know you had it in you!”

“There’s a lot you don't know about me, Lucifer.” You smile back at him.

“Evidently! Come on,” Lucifer grabs your arm and pulls you to the dance floor.

“Oh no, I really shou-”

“Come on, K9!” Lucifer laughs and drags you to the dance floor, “Show me all I don't know!”

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

“Oh, now that’s interesting.” Linda watches you and Lucifer dance away together.

“What is?” Mrs. Charlotte Richards, well actually the body of Charlotte Richards that now belongs to the Goddess of all Creation [aka God’s ex-wife and Lucifer’s mother], looks down at the tiny doctor.

“Oh, nothing much.” Linda looks at her and gives a small smile before turning her attention back on you two, “I just thought of something I have to ask a patient of mine about.”

As Linda drinks her martini the Goddess follows her eye line sight and stares at you dancing with her son. Her eye twitches.

“My son was right about you, Doctor.” The Goddess smiles wickedly, “You are incredibly insightful.”

#a devil's love #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #fanfic #fanfiction #azritesx3 #azookiex3

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 4 years ago

Text

HypMic 7 - 9 | Maou-jou 5 - 6 | Akudama Drive 6 - 8 | I7 s2 6 - 9 | Taiso Samurai 5 - 6

HypMic 7

I will never not laugh at the content advisory, haha.

I like Kazuha already. Too bad he’s probably evil…

Oh, is it the day of the DRB in the series already…? Or maybe, because it’s the qualifiers, BB and MTC’s match is on a different day to FP and MTR’s.

Oh? Does Tom know Jakurai well enough to call him “Jakurai-sensei”? (<- middle ground between “Jinguji-sensei/Sensei” and “Jakurai”) Also, Tom uses “ore”.

Ooh, Iris is a motorbike rider, eh? Interesting. I thought they (<- not sure if Iris is a “she” or “he” with a really weird name) were more of a Saburo-type and didn’t bother with things like that, based on their appearance. Update: Someone on Yahoo Answers said based on Iris’s watashi, she is a woman.

Typo fixed! Good job, anime staff! Update: I’m referring to “…darkest hour is just before the down” (sic).

…bukkorosu = “f***in’ slaughter ‘em”. It’s not wrong…it’s just the subbers really like to abuse the F word for MTC. But you knew that already if you got this far…right?

LOL, Ramuda wants to “scratch [Rex’s] back” (figuratively) to…get SNS views? Hahaha.

This Studio Alita is probably a reference to Shinjuku Alta.

Yotsutsuji!!! That was the one big spoiler I got before watching the episode today and I’m so happy I got to see him animated!

(One of) Irihatoma and Degarashi refer to Jakurai as “Jakurai-sensei” as well. Hmm, I never noticed. Update: That’s Degarashi, because Irihatoma speaks to Jakurai alone later this ep.

There’s 50% chance I’m getting this wrong, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say Kazuha is voiced by a veteran VA…one I already know about.

Doppo calls Kazuha by his first name…That upgrade means their relationship escalated quickly (or this is a quirk of HypMic in general, since I noticed most characters are on first name basis with each other). Also, it’s cute Doppo finally has someone in his corner. No other part of the franchise has one, to my memory. Update: It might actually be “Kazuha-kun”…but I’m still surprised though. Update 2: It’s both, actually.

I’ve listened to the phrase “some random guy” several times from Hifumi’s mouth and all I can figure out is the “yatsu” at the end. (Doesn’t help my ears blocked themselves up again, although it’s less than it used to be.)

Harumi Wharf.

R? On a helicopter landing pad?

…uh oh. I was right when I thought Kazuha was going to be evil. Also, Doppler shift/effect. Update: “Doppler” is clearly a pun on “Doppo”.

Hmm? “Hey, Doppo” from “yaa”…it doesn’t have a name referred in there. It’s a small but odd thing to do. (I remember a professional translator was complaining that people with intermediate Japanese were giving them flak for translating things “wrong”, but what I do here is analysis for my future and edificiation. I’m not here to knock down pro translators’ doors and demand a refund, because I’m trying to go pro to atone for my sins as a scanlator.)

The soundtrack’s slightly sinister tone, plus the fact I figured the culprit well before Doppo did, makes me slightly scared…for MTR.

I realised they skimped on the budget…this “hot off the car chase” line seems more like an MTC line, doesn’t it…?...Yeah, it’s almost word for word for MTC in DRB+. Maybe the subbers rushed and used this translation (this link I put here) rather than their actual lyrics…? I will have to get to the bottom of this. Update: Turns out the translation is slightly different, but…yes, there is reference to a car chase in the start of Shinjuku Style. (Sorry, I don’t know every lyrics of every song off the top of my head.)

…wow, this got really Doppo-centric. I’ve never seen the leader relinquish their position when it comes to “leading into battle” before. It just goes to show the staff really do pay attention to how popular Doppo is.

Note “Doppo” means “walk alone”, roughly speaking, hence the “solitary” line.

This song is very, very faithful to its original lyrics, because I was trying to look at Hifumi’s “mixing paint” line and it pretty much matches.

Hifumi’s “my men”, LOL.

Kazuha = “one leaf”, hence the “leaves” in one of Jakurai’s lines.

I cringe every time I hear screaming coming from this episode, y’know…?

…oh dear. MTC’s plot actually bled into MTR’s.

I already knew from browsing Twitter earlier today that Kizuna was going to become FP’s today, but hearing it is another matter entirely.

Kosuke Miyoshi is Kazuha. Apparently, this guy also voiced Mashirao Ojiro (the tail guy) from BnHA, but that’s his only major role…so I was right in that I knew him, but wrong in that he was, again, a relative rookie in comparison to most.

Apparently FP’s sign is a peace sign sideways to represent an F, but…it’s just a sideways peace sign to me…

…how is Dice’s bead ornament attached to him? Is it on his hair, on his ear, on the skin behind his ear…? I was trying to replicate his outfit and got stuck on how to represent it, so I ended up opting for trying (and failing) to do a small braid on the right side.

IWGP shows up this season…it’s the song with the “hoo!” noise BB perform in this episode.

LOL, “Dead men tell no tales” is a perfect saying for MTC.

Akudama 6

Is there a movie called “Brother”…? There’s apparently one that’s the plural of that, but not that itself.

If HypMic likes the F bomb, then Akudama like the S word.

I-Is it just me or is the choreography sped up at some points in this episode…? It’s a bit disorienting to come back to.

I thought the kid was a robot…but close enough.

Oh no! Why does the teacher always have to die for the student to become stronger???

Kairaku/shugi -> pleasure/doctrine (if I didn’t somehow misunderstand the shark’s kanji combo),

The part after the ED looks a little too long…keep watching.

The Japanese says “Lost Children”, but the English says “The City of Lost Children”, probably referring to this French sci-fi film.

I7 s2 6

I like how Gaku is taking special offence to Yamato’s comments about him being a playboy.

Re:vale-san. I never noticed until now.

“I’m already looking forward to it.” That’s how I would translate Tsumugi’s “I’m already excited”.

“…who could possibly complain?” – I think Mitsuki might.

The pun in the MEZZO show is that tai (group/squad) sounds the same as tai (want to ~). Rabbinsta is obviously Instagram + Rabbit (Chat?).

Oh my gosh! It’s the Yotsuba sister!

Mitsuki’s shopping trip OST is nice, man. This piano.

This episode has a really great sense of danger and foreboding for the future.

I7 s2 7

Perfection Gimmick. Never heard it in the anime before.

Even the ramen house’s name is a play on “Idolish7”.

LOL, Yamato sure turned that comment around.

The sign talking about beer says something about coupons below it. (It went by too fast and my CR app’s kinda fiddly, so I can’t really go back…)

Kimi to Ai na Night (pun on Idolish7, aka “AiNana”, again).

Mitsuki, no one hates you! You’re just imagining it all!

I7 s2 8

Momo hugely resembles Sasara, right down to the highlights on the hair…

“…you’re so handsome…” – I’m dying on the inside here, people! *laps up the BL pandering with a derpy smile on my face*

Banri and Tsumugi haven’t been focussed on lately…they’re clearly doing something regarding Banri’s ties with Re:vale, but I can’t quite figure out what that “something” is.

Why is there a basketball and a football in the back of the Takanashi office…?

Please don’t run in heels, Tsumugi…

“I love Idolish7!” - Ah, despite my quibbles, Tsumugi is good after all.

“making one’s best exertions” – Why do those words on the cup worry me a bit…?

Isn’t “I’m watching you” a creepy statement…?

Apparently Tamaki’s symbol is mp (mezzo pianissimo), hence Sougo’s words.

…my gosh! Aya’s foster father is Kujou?!

I7 s2 9

If I heard it right, Tenn’s line was “I can be your idol”, not “your prince”.

“Older Izumi” - …ah, poor Mitsuki.

“Damn you, sexy beast…” – LOL!

…aw, I think this is the first time my heart has been lightened by Tsunashi’s laugh. He’s a good boy.

The chibis…I’m still trying to get used to them…

As a song once said, “You can’t please everyone so you just gotta please yourself.” (Blah blah blah, something about garden parties…)

Takao what now???...okay, Takao Dayuu.

…You’re lucky that wasn’t Tenn doing Takao Dayuu. It would’ve been very “Gentaro does his courtesan voice” if it was.

Nagi doesn’t overpronounce things as much in this season. It’s…pleasant, actually. Give me more of that.

Nagi’s “Oh my god!” was hilarious.

Taiso 5

Ra (ら) and ro (ろ) look kinda similar in hiragana.

Even without the audio, I can guess the words were “yarubeki koto” (things you should do) -> shachihoko.

The texts are written in gyaru-moji. Gyaru-moji is basically indecipherable to anyone who doesn’t know how it works – kind of like the common teen vernacular, to be honest (LOL…?) – and so the subs actually kind of ruin the confusingness of it all, but they did slightly better when they went “UR”.

Movie shiritori! But…has it really been half a year since Leo started? I feel slightly robbed about that plotline with the Men in Black right now…(then again, HypMic is just as bad about important plotlines, if not worse, so…I’m going to be patient and not complain.)

July 5th…Rei is a Cancer…?

They’re…finally moving on this Men in Black plotline! I only complained two points ago! Thank you, staff, for listening to my complaints (…?).

Moon Land finished recently, so I wonder if I’ll lose interest in this anime from here on out…? There was a Pommel Horse Prince in that.

Moon Land taught me that gymnastics has a lot of skills named after their creators, much like the Aragaki previously. The score is out of 10 for both D (difficulty) and E (execution), meaning a 20 is the best you can do, but the judges can get really picky...

The word for “vault” literally means “leaping/jumping horse”…makes sense.

Some of these names are names I’m familiar with from Moon Land already…but I never remember what the skills look like.

…welp, Leo just proved he really is a ninja after all.

Dr Stone’s s2 had its ED announced to be “Koe?” by Hatena and “Yume?” here really makes a theme…does Hatena give all their song titles question marks on the end?

Taiso 6

Colour gangs? Like in IWGP?

It’s nice to see they’re (Jotaro and Rei) communicating properly for the first time in possibly this entire anime.

On the wall, that thing is an evacuation map…of some sort.

…I’ve always wondered: if a bird eats chicken, does that count as cannibalism?

This is like thw Makkachin incident all over again (in YoI).

“…there’s no reason for you to grin and bear it.”

…Leo and Jotaro, both are so dense! Boys *shakes head*.

BB? More like ET (LOL)!

Maou-jou 5

…I didn’t even notice the cast was all dudes bar the princess at this point.

Tatakau Onnatachi. It could mean “fighting women” or “female warriors”.

I’m still vaguely pissed that Kirito is here under my nose…darn Demon King!!!

One of the harpy’s recent worries was that she wanted to become friends with the princess…That’s kinda cute…

Didn’t Syalis already get the coffin that one time? Or did it get confiscated?

*eyes sparkle* Cloud…I’d like to sleep on a cloud…*dreamy look on face* Cloud.

This is basically Princess, ‘Tis Time for Torture in reverse.

Is it “make do” or “make due”…?

I don’t think I need to explain the joke where the harpy is happy.

Gendo pose!

I wonder if the bed or the sheets will talk to her (Syalis) someday?

Maou-jou 6

The New Gearbolt’s quote is “guruguru dokkan”, which is just a bunch of sound effects. It would translate to something like “whir-whir-thud”.

Underwear episodes are some of the worst episodes ever…they’re so juvenile…I dropped at least one series based on the underwear episode alone.

Ah! The seal on the ice monster’s shoulder! Too cute!

How can a mechanical princess mecha (…thing?) have worries?

LOL, never underestimate the hilarity of the teddy demons ganging up on the Demon King.

I like how the Japanese pointed out the demons only moved the princess.

HypMic 8

I thought the robberies were Kazuha’s doing…? Or is this a separate case?

Samatoki answering his phone with his feet up…LOL, there’s just something funny about it. It shows he’s just so badass, he can get away with it.

Riou’s hacking (?) skills come to the fore again. (Or is that listening to enemy intel?)

Ooh, Iris is sassy. I love her already.

…er, Samatoki? Blowing cigarette smoke into Jyuto’s face is just rude…

“…don’t hang up your gloves.” – Considering Jyuto has his red gloves…LOL.

What the heck is that backing track when the 2nd car moved out? That’s a cool track.

Ah! Iris is a Saburo-type…LOL, Saburo’s fake identity.

“a cop who’s in with the yakuza” - Wow, way to diss your own teammate, Samatoki.

For a guy who was only just in the water, Riou doesn’t even look wet.

“2 DIE 4” – Hmm? So did the anime staff know what Riou’s 2nd round song title was at the time…? Update: Judging by the name “Requiem” dropped in the next episode, I would say yes.

“…f*** the police…” - Wow, way to diss your own teammate, Samatoki. X2

Hmm? In Riou’s rap bit near the end, he goes “mad warrior” and that rhymes (in a very loose way of speaking) with “Mad Trigger”. The English didn’t keep that.

I remember seeing a spoiler which said that line (the one about slaves)…but seriously, Jyuto is such a “sexy revenge cop” (as someone once said – I think it might be Slug, or an anon to Slug) that literally nothing else seems to matter about him.

Why do they subtitle the laughing??? I still have no idea.

“Sgt. Iruma”? The guy just says “Iruma-san”. Is he a sergant or some other rank? Update: Yes. (As in, he is a sergant.)

I’ve never actually seen Ramuda sleep in a bed before, come to think of it. Does he not have a bed?

I would assume Gentaro is going…but he said he won’t be going, then negated that and then negated it again. Unless the 2nd time was him admitting it was a lie the first time…is he going or not???

“shinsetsu no human” – (Spoilers for later on/manga)…Yes, that’s actually what Ramuda says. It’s as if Ramuda subtly admits, right there, he isn’t human.

Nodo = throat…If this were translated more literally, it would sound pretty clunky.

“…rappa no inochi…paa!” – Yep, the subbers got the gist of the joke there.

Dice is basically a worm at this point…He’s squirming like one, anyway.

That “number of pips facing up” thing has got to be foreshadowing for something, y’know? Nothing in a story ever goes to waste. Also, it’s likely the dice are weighted or something…

…yep, there you go.

That voice Gentaro used for “I despise lies” was amusing…because it’s so different to his normal voice, and because Gentaro is a serial liar.

The 2nd song…which I already know is called “JACKPOT” from browsing Twitter earlier today…was a bunch of fun.

Udagawacho.

Hmm…emphasis on the candy. I wonder what that means? (<- already knows, I just want to keep it a secret from you, dear reader, if you don’t know it too)

ANIME SHOP is so clearly a pun on Animate, including the colours, that I can’t even…LOL.

FP’s Kizuna sounds distinctly different to the others…probably because of Ramuda. It’s mostly Ramuda carrying the tune there.

“Life is what you make it.” – Hmm, an interesting quote for sure.

HypMic 9

…welp, they don’t call it Fling Posse for nothin’.

I didn’t believe my ears, so I went and listened to it again. Sure enough, Ichiro calls Jakurai -san, not -sensei.

Ramuda’s normal voice! Things are getting serious~!

“Hifuming”? Is that a deliberate choice on the translators’ part? Or is it a mishearing?

…I’m laughing at how Samatoki called Ichiro a “hypocritical piece of s***”. I know the “s***” part is correct at minimum from the audio.

I believe Samatoki said -san, not -sama when he asked for an honorific. Hmm, interesting.

I knew this would get animated, but…I still can’t believe I’m watching it! Amazing…absolutely amazing.

If you’re wondering…yes, that long thing is her entire title and name. It’s said the name “Kadenokouji” is the longest Japanese surname in existence.

I remember reading a tweet earlier today that said somebody wanted “Altercation! Altercation! Altercation!” as a song title…and now I LOL, because the subbers made Gentaro say the exact same word.

Hmm…I only just noticed BB are the only ones with bags. They probably came last, but who took the others’ bags into Chuoku…? Update: Some of the others did have bags, I just never spotted them. For instance, Riou is carrying a large black rectangular bag, but Samatoki and Jyuto don’t have any. Jakurai has the bag from his TDD days.

The 2nd DRB brackets got announced today. BB vs DH, MTR vs BAT, FP vs MTC, rolling out across Japan (and Japan only due to COVID) in 2021.

“What happened between you and him?” - I was going “who?” in Cantonese (as I sometimes do), but turns out they’re just referring to Samatoki.

This is exactly as it played out in the drama tracks and manga…exactly what I was waiting for all this time! So good, dangit!

LOL, in the future, we will have camera drones working our concerts like they do in the DRBs…I think (?)

I wonder what Dice is thinking right now, seeing Otome on the screen…hmm…

…gah! Airhorn! Airhorn to the ears! *tilts to side due to sound*

I still kind of remember Slug’s take on the final battle…”The popo? More like the poopoo!” (or something like that). *sniggers*

The little barking bit after Jiro’s verse was…kinda cute, actually.

…ow, these are some burn-ass words. See? This is the power of the DRB!

…eh? Riou’s mic has his MC name on it. Don’t think I’ve seen that in any other part of the series.

Hoh, Riou even made references to Saburo’s character songs.

You can see “Hc” on Samatoki’s mic too…probably another case of his MC name, but partially obscured by his hand.

Aw, “Samatoki no sabaku toki” is a good lyric. Why couldn’t you try to keep that, instead of translating it literally to “judgement day for Samatoki”?

You can hear a thumping beat in the background when Samatoki prepares himself. That seems to be a similar way to how ARB treats this stuff.

“I’m THE Samatoki” – “Samatoki-sama da”.

I think it was really cool to show Samatoki handing the song over to Riou, but it also indicates there’s a disjunct in the lyrics that would cause such a thing. From this, maybe Riou is MTC’s weak link…?

Skeletons with katanas! Is that not cool?!?

…hey, that joined words thing Ichiro does…I would assume that’s what Rhyme Strike looks like in the HypMic universe?

Notice Samatoki took the word “signal” from Ichiro’s part and put it into his own one.

“Today is a good day to die.” – *eyes bulge* Oh…gosh. What a quote. Update: Someone theorised Ichijiku wrote these titles (the last 2), but someone else – like me – theorised this quote was what FP and M fans thought for this battle.

Akudama 7

…that’s one twisted kid.

Never threaten to kill a kid who can regenerate far better than you, Hoodlum.

Brawler is still in the OP…it’s kind of saddening to see him now.

I noticed a certain character appears on the Executioners’ hands if you pause at the right moment in the OP. It’s the first character in shori (management).

Bunny: set meal/Shark: roasted meat (yakiniku)

…This sounds a heck of a lot like the genbaku dome (Hiroshima Peace Park).

Bunny and Shark’s shirts together: Idiot -> Shark: Bone

Actually, this also reminds me of the Osaka Expo held in 1970. I loved writing about that event – it was just so fun to write about.

This anime is like Appare-Ranman’s sequel, except without the racing and crazy racial stereotypes (although there are still crazy stereotypes).

…whoa! This scene is going on the end of year list for sure. Just…have to remember this scene, where all the children disappeared, exists.

…”The City of Lost Children” is an apt title for this episode.

(HypMic spoilers!) I wonder if they’ll reveal that Ramuda is a clone in what’s left of the HypMic anime?

…oof, Doctor’s a filthy traitor!

Rule number 1 of fighting: never yell out “Smokescreen!” when the smokescreen is meant to cover you.

…LOL, dark censorship bar. Please wait for the Blu-Rays to see this scene uncensored.

What the heck?! The countdown went from 7 to 0 so fast!

Akudama 8

Black Rain, huh? *checks* It’s a movie about a pair of New York policemen who have to save a Japanese gangster from his death.

…don’t jinx it, Swindler!

Your brother isn’t on the moon, Sister. It’s just your dreams on there.

Notice “Neo Lake Biwa” actually has “Reiku” in its name, as opposed to, say, “mizuumi” or “ike” (the Japanese equivalent).

You can still see where Doctor stitched herself up.

What did Doctor “hold on to”?

Way to monologue through the whole morality thing… (<- not as satisfied as they would like from this scene)

I wonder if the seal is electronically tracked…

Tsubo = pot, vase…*thinks about drugs* (Not that pot.)

“…I’ll make you into a real man.” – More like a eunuch, LOL. (partially sarcastic)

I recall from Sarazanmai that “pair look” is the term for “twinsies” in Japanese.

Oh! Swindler kind of looks like the Executioner Boss now.

…I find it ironic that Swindler had long hair up until not too long ago.

Can to the eye! Ouch! That’s gotta be worse than a lightsaber…er, jitte to the eye!

This makes me wonder…was Courier a rich kid once…?

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