#ill probably stick to greys moving forward but still fun to try out colors!

[magicandheart]

I practiced Sunny so it's only fair I practiced the other best boi :D Moon post reboot in my fanfic is just as anxious as Sun but manifests it in a different way. He's worried the virus isn't truly gone so he tries to keep his distance but it's hard when Y/N is the only human around and the key to getting his Daycare back.

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Part Five (The Great Mini-series, Arranged Marriage AU)

A/N: Here it finally is!!!! Sorry it took forever, life happens.

Word Count: 4K

Summary: When the Emperor’s behavior gets your families alliance with Russia in danger, you agree to marry his best friend Grigor in order to make sure the alliance does not fall apart. You’re tossed into the Russian court and into the arms and bed of a Russian count, dodging his jealous ex lover, trying to survive the unpredictability.... but...what about yuou two? Are you and Grigor finally...feeling something for each other?

Warnings: Swearing, drunkeness, mentions of sex and nudity, marriage, and an in universe reference I couldn’t resist.

“Come here Sonya! Come here!�� Lady Svenska cooed, wiggling her fingers.

The puppy trotted to her and she squealed in delight.

Tatiana bent her knees, her lime green dress bunching below her like icing on a cake as she did.

“Sonya! Sonya come!” she gestured.

With a happy trot, Sonya waddled over. She reached up, her tiny tail wagging.

“Oooo, good girl! Good girl!”

You had been invited to a tea party with the other ladies. Although you had gotten closer to the empress, you feared if they would see you as an enemy. Especially hearing of Catherine’s last tea party with them. So walking in, you brought your secret weapon. And it worked.

The only woman it seemed who was not having the time of her life with what was happening was Georgiana. Dressed in her purple gown and largest wig, she sat a little slumped on the couch. She was sipping her tea every now and then but crossing her arms. She stared daggers at the dog and how it trotted. She preferred any small circle that came over to obsess over the latest scandalous affair, but even then she kept one eye on Sonya as if the dog was a wolf ready to attack. She didn’t dare say a word to you. And you didn’t say a word to her. But if there was nothing said, then nothing bad could happen.

Smiling, you helped yourself to a red macaroon, delighting in the crunch and cream of it’s taste. Lady Svenska walked over to you and asked.

“Can she do tricks?” she questioned.

“Almost. She’s getting better at walking. She used to pull and run a lot, but she’s better at being obedient.”

“And she doesn’t tear things up?” she asked.

“Only sometimes. I have to watch where my dresses are stored,” you answered.

“Ah! She’s such a good dog! How lovely of you to bring her here, Madame Dymov!”

Georgiana’s eyes went dark.

“Will you come to our ball throwing this evening! It is most fun! Mine might go another inch!”

“I’d be delighted to! And be sure to tell me more about that maid with the baron old enough to be her grandfather too! And with copous details!” you added on.

“Oh! I do like you! And what of the Empress?”

“Well, we read. And we chat…”

“But all that reading!? Isn’t it time consuming!”

“A little. Her books can take time. I reread pages over and over…but in the best way. I suppose. It keeps her happy.”

“If you have any gossip about her, please share!”

“I..I, uh, will!” you promise.

“First of all, have you any plans or gifts to give her on her birthday, it’s coming up in about a month!”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” you mumbled.

At that moment your husband entered the room. He seemed a little uncomfortable with all of the flowers and pastel dresses, eyeing birds singing ditties in shiny cages and macaroons piled to his chest on platters.

“Oh, Y/N…where is Y/N?” he asked to one lady in a pink dress and grey wig.

She pointed in your direction and he smiled.

As he walked by, he passed the couch where Georgiana was sitting. Her shoe tapped his calf and he turned.

“Hello, Grigor…” she said with a faded grin.

“Hello, George,” he replied politely. Somehow, your blood felt hot. But yet, the marriage was over, so what if they even talked? He probably just enjoyed you talking with him and occasionally sleeping with him. But no, they had to be soulmates. And it was better not to disturb them. After all, despite the suddenness of the marriage, it would work. He would be happy.

“How is the party?” he asked, hands placed behind the back.

“Going perfect. We’re being introduced to the loud, hairy creature that lifts her leg when she pisses. Her dog is there too.” She quipped with a surprisingly relieved smile.

You froze. Little Sonya recognized Grigor and ran up to him, oblivious to how white his face was turning. A few fans were spread, and you barely heard feminine whispers of “…quite bitchy…” It got a little quiet. Even with the string quartet in the back was playing at a piano as if they wanted to hear what would happen next to.

Getting up, you turned around to leave them alone. Let them take it out. Let him laugh, Let her smile. Maybe even fuck against the wall like you noticed the odd couple doing on a night of reveling in the palace, no matter who might see or hear.

“George. I can’t control what you do on your own. But when you are with me, you will not speak about my wife in that matter.”

Pausing, you turned around. A couple quiet tears fell down your cheeks.

“You’re an esteemed lady of the court with the world at your fingertips. She’s a poor creature thrown into an arranged marriage, stolen from another country, and little to never to see any of her family or friends again while you just lay down and let Peter put fruit in your pussy and drink champagne.”

Wiping away tears with your hands, you stood still, not sure what to say. Grigor continued, truly angered and passionate.

“I didn’t marry her because of you. And she didn’t marry me so she could have my cock when you couldn’t. I did this so that we all- we all-“ he gestured to the people in the room “won’t be fucking ripped apart by Swede’s in a fortnight thanks to her families army. You will show her what little compassion you have in your tiny heart. You could even show her an ounce of gratitude for the sacrifice she and I made for the safety of everyone here, including yours. Or else I could have said no and let the swedes stab you in your tits when you’re asleep in the emperor’s bed. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it too. But I did.”

She froze. There was even a couple of gasps.

Scooping the tiny dog in his arms, he turned ot you promptly.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I…I am…” you answered. “But I’m tired, let’s go home and play cards.”

“I agree.”

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

 A week later, Grigor had partied so much with the Emperor last night, wrestling and playing with some man named Leon or whoever. You peaked in the door, and yawning, retired to your own apartments to sleep even if alone.

Waking up briefly in the grey air, you felt him crawling into bed at four in the morning. So you let him sleep in as you took Sonya on her morning walk. Besides, she would pout and whine if you didn’t walk at her certain time.

“Here you go, I know, Papa can’t be there-but I will,” you assured the dog.

You made your way through the halls into the gardens. Sonya was already getting bigger. The collar and leash made for her a while ago was getting snug on her fluffy body.

Enjoying the forest, you heard the rhythmic crunch of the leaves and sticks beneath Sonya’s prancing paws. The cold air stung your lungs in the best way. The sky looked clear and crisp.

Sonya pointed her snout in one direction. She began pulling and barking.

“What is it? Some sort of creature!” you thought, walking forward.

It wasn’t a mouse of squirrel, there was a person slumped against a tree, sitting on the dirt. Walking closer, you made out a dark green skirt and a hat, but a head of dark, curly hair made loose. She reeked of vodka and beer. Her face was pale to where she seemed ill, rather than the lovely cream color of her skin. And beneath her eyes there were several bags.

“G..Georgiana…”

She turned her head to you, squinting.

“Yes…” she grunted.

“What are you doing here?”

She began to laugh a little, bitterly.

“I could ask the same…what are you doing here?”

“I’m walking Sonya…she needs to be exercised so she won’t get into trouble from being bored,” you explained, gripping the leash.

“Huh, I know sometimes…sometimes Grigor goes with you…” her voice was deep and throaty, far from her usual speaking tone. As if every word was choked up.

She seemed so pitiful you didn’t have the heart to chafe her.

“Yes, yes he does…”

Her exhausted eyes wandered forward into the grove of trees. She kept speaking to you.

“Sometimes we’d walk together. Only if it was nice. We did everything together. Walking. Eating. Dancing. Bathing together. Did you know…I even got my portrait painted and he kept it in his room! Right next to his bed…he…he cared for me so much to where I was right there with him every morning even when I wasn’t next to him and now…now he hates me…”

She began to sniffle, and a few tears worked up.

“No. No, I don’t think he hates you at all…”

“Why did he speak to me that way?”

“He just…he got emotional. And he has been emotional because he loves you. He’s every bit as sad as you are for not marrying…”

Sonya walked over to the crying woman. Alerted by the sounds, she walked over and sniffed at her wet face. She broke out  a smile.

“But the truth is…in this court, there’s plenty of women who’ve fucked Peter. More than half. That’s just a fact of life. But I… I love it. I love having men want me, being worshipped, loved, is that wrong?”

“It’s normal,” you admitted. “it’s normal to want to be loved.”

“And the things it gives you. It’s not the least bad. I have all sorts of things. Dresses. Hats. A high position in court. Security. Comfort. Occasionally I can change laws and save lives with just a word-imagine that! And jewels. Jewels I used to dream of having. And I get to enjoy making love to a man who’s skilled at it. It might be the only way for a woman here to move up. That’s the way it is, is that wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy fucking and love a man too? For them to be separate men? They do it all the time and no one bats an eye bit when I do…”

She finally fell down into sobs.

“And he just...he couldn’t accept it. He claimed he loved me, and I… I love him, I still do, he just couldn’t accept me as I am and this world as it is…I thought he knew me…and that I knew him…”

She began to cry more; Sonya reached over and began to lick her face. She laughed at the ridiculous feeling of a dog’s tongue right on your nose and you began to laugh too.

“Georgiana…I’m so sorry I yelled at you that first day…I saw you as a threat and didn’t stop to think what you would feel. How I would feel if I was in your shoes…”

“Ugh, you’re…you’re as saccharine as…as…I don’t even know, Y/N. I’d put you in my…my mouth and my blood would rush, and they’d have to let it out with slugs.”

Taking out a handkerchief, you began to wipe her tears from her face.

“I’m not the one in tears…but…he used to keep a portrait of you…” you questioned.

“He did…is it there? Maybe….”

“Not anymore…” you explained flatly.

So that explained the circular area on the wall next to the bed.

“I know you really do love Grigor. And you care for him…but loving someone is hard. I love my family and friends back home, or unless I wanted to make all of them suffer or even get killed, I had to let them go to come here…sometimes, there are things you have to let go and move on from…” you assured her. You aren’t a bad person for wanting those things. You’re a smart person for figuring out how to get them. I admire you for it.”

“I just keep wondering…I keep wondering what would happen if he said yes…if he agreed to the terms…we’d be so happy…”

And he would see you with Peter and be miserable. Then god knows what would happen you thought.

You took her arm and helped her to her shaky legs.

“But there’s no use in that. Here, let’s get you back to the palace. I think after you get some water and some sleep, you might feel better…”

“But Y/N, Grigor I think…he’s in denial how Peter works here. If a woman needs anything in court, and if Peter picks you…he picks you. And, well, there’s nothing you can do about it…”

Your stomach lurched.

    “Grigor might want a faithful wife. He might’ve thought he got that with you but…defying the Emperor is a risk. Too huge. Why say no? After all, he’s a genius at fucking so it could be worse…”

“You need water, Georgiana. And you need to clean up. Then you’ll feel better…” you interrupted, trying to mother her away and ignoring the fear in your gut.

 But as you were strolling later in the week, returning from another one of the Empresses’s private discussions, you saw a few ladies eye down at the book. Perhaps they judged you. Perhaps they were jealous. But one bespecaled face saw you, smiled, and then hurried up.

“Orlo! How are you?”

“Y/N-er-Madame Dymov! Enough about me already- I heard the Empress gave you a copy of the Rousseau! What do you think!?” he asked excitedly.

His dark eyes glittered at the book in your hands. Holding it up to him you let him inspect it.

“I was…I was shocked at first. His ideas felt like…like a blast of cold wind. But I…he made good points. And I found myself agreeing after some time…” you explained with a shrug.

“He’s one of my favorites, and tehre’s so much…so much inside there. But I…I wish I could explain it all…”

“Let’s go to my place, I’ll call for a plate...” you offered with a shrug and a smile.

Introducing him to the drawing room, he settled down shyly on the seat in front of the fire. You brought in some tea with a strawberry cake and wound up talking for a straight hour. He got his own turn to pet on little Sonya as she licked his fingers from the cake crumbs. You discussed Rousseau, then he went on to talk about Voltaire, Plato, Paine. Ideas stretched you and you found yourself talking about things you could never imagine debating about with anyone. About people. Power. Faith. Life. Death. Purpose, if there was one at all. Your cup became cold and you had to reheat it by pouring some liquid into it.

Orlo glowed as he explained it all. He was not condescending. In fact, it felt like being in school with  a good teacher. You understood and appreciated it even more. You were amazed with the depth of knowledge he had. Beneath his mousy exterior, there was a brilliant mind. Perhaps even genius. You were amazed in him. Strands of his hair loosened out and he smiled more, seeming relaxed and confident. Far more confident than you ever knew him to be in public.

“But out of all of them, I think my favorite is…”

The door creaked as it opened.

His head turned and you saw Grigor walking in. His face was pink, and his eyebrows crossed.

“Hello Orlo, what are you doing with my wife?” he asked, his lips tight and his voice firm.

“I, uh…” he found himself blubbering. His posture slouched and his hands retreated.

Standing at once, you walked up to Grigor with as much poise as you could.

“The empress gifted me with a book and Orlo was asking me about it over tea, nothing more…” you explained plainly.

“It’s fascinating. Isn’t it!” you added, throwing back a look.

Orlo nodded shyly, getting out of the seat like it had spikes.

“Very.”

“Oh, alright…” Grigor replied quietly.

Once Orlo thanked you for hosting him and shuffled out, Grigor’s eyes never left his steps.

 He was quiet over dinner. You had to ask questions about his day and have Sonya’s begging fill the silence. Later, you changed into your nightgown to see Grigor was already in bed.

You saw him curl up to the other side. Not turning around, holding the blanket over his shoulders and leaving your side disproportionally cold.

With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips.

“What is it?” You had a guess, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong” he said in a tone that said something was definitely wrong.

“What is it…tell me…” you wheedled, sitting on the bed and leaning closer to him.

He turned around.

“I understand we agreed to follow orders to marry. Not for us. Our countries, the safety of your family and for their workers and tenets to not go hungry, for protection, the alliance, and for Russia to succeed against the Swedes… but I know you didn’t choose to marry me…if you…if you…are in love… then I guess it would make it easier…but you will at least be honest with me and not play around when you fall in love with some man!”

“In love? With Orlo?!” you added.

His head snapped back at the sound of his name.

“If you love the prick, then that’s fine! It will make you bear being here better- it’s all fine!” He if it will make you bear this, bear being married to me…”

“I’m not in love with Orlo!” you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but didn’t turn away.

“What…you aren’t? Both of you always talk together.”

 “I always talk with the empress, and Tatyana and everyone else too. They’re my friends. He’s my friend as well… and…I…I promised you I won’t hurt you. That I will do my best not to hurt you…and you’re obviously hurt…” you reasoned.

The clock chimed the hour in the back.

“I…yes, I was…I had memories of when…you know…” he muttered out, looking down.

You folded your arms and turned away from him.

“Well, have you ever kissed Georgiana since our marriage? I guess you can run back to her, like I’m apparently running to Orlo. Should I be worried about her?”

“Uh-no! Not at all! We’ve barely talked since the betrothal! I talk more to Sonya than I do to her in a fortnight!” he said, pointing to the dog curled asleep on her pillow.

You crossed your arms and started to laugh a little. A smile cracked on his thin face as well.

“If I have no reason to suspect you of anything with George, you have no reason to suspect anything of me and Orlo!” you reasoned with a shrug.

Leaning forward, you pulled more of the cover to your side. He relented.

 Both of you were tense. Words left your voice.

“Just dinner and drinks with your friend, nothing more. Perfectly normal.” You assured.

Even if it meant eating in his chambers with large portraits all over the wall and a big green bed on the other side. Peter stood up and greeted you both. His arms were wide, pearls dangling from his neck.

“Ah, hello! Join me!” Peter cheered. “Grigor-make yourself at home! There’s already some food.

You carefully walked in, placing yourself on the couch and folded your hands in front of your lap. Unsure of what to do or say. A finger nudged you.

“Here, Y/N…here’s the seat for you!” your husband said, taking his large hands around your waist and picking you up as you let out a smile.

Grigor placed you on his lap, like he did on your wedding. Smiling, you accepted the feeling of him nearby and settled your weight. The closeness far more natural than ever. Grigor’s arms were warm as they passed dishes around from one man to the Emperor. A serf poured a Kiev vdoka and you enjoyed yourselves.

“I tell you- fucked a horse! It’s just a rumor-but can you believe it!” he said.

Laughing in spite of yourself, you shook your head insisting “no, I don’t!”

Smiling. Laughing. Everything felt normal. You laughed so hard you almost snorted your drinkand covered your mouth, laughing more at the dirtier humor. Years ago, your mother would have become so uncomfortable at such words she would excuse herself and complain about it later. Laughs held back were finally released, you jaw uhrt and your cheeks felt hot.

“And that’s what hapoens when you use the duck whistle on the balcony-“Oh, Grigor! Have I fucked your wife yet?”

The drink you were sipping almost spat out of your mouth and you coughed it out. Both of you froze again. You felt Grigor tense up. His breath quickened. His face turned white and then red and then white again. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Turning your head back, you began to give a charming smile at the emperor, even giving the little half smile you noticed to do. You decided if the subject came up, you would be prepared.

“Your highness, of yes, of course we’ve fucked. Several times!” you said.

Where he couldn’t see, you kicked Grigor’s leg to alert him.

“Oh, really!” he said.

“Ah! What a Casanova you are, Emperor! Losing track! But…”

You circled the rim of your glass, and then added on.

“I have an eternally dry pussy, can’t suck cock to save my life, and an ass so tight that deflects any object near the hole so it’s been rather disappointing. It’s a miracle my husband tolerates me. He’s hardly been able to finish the job!”

He tilted his head, pondering it with a hmmmm. Glancing at Grigor, you quickly mouthed “play along.” His eyes bright, he nodded at you, and then to the Emperor in agreement.

“Yes! Fucking Y/N is a total disappointment. Remember her place? They’re boring, plain people even when fucking.”

Peter nodded in agreement, his eyes up to the sky as if thinking about the fake experience. Not that it was to think.

“Humph. I…I think you’re right. It was disappointing. Grigor, if you need me to order you a whore, let me know.”

You kept your hand on his and you saw his eyes dart in confusion and realization, his brain thinking a hundred thoughts.

“Please pour me another drink…” you said, holding your cup to a serf.

“Besdies, Catherine…she’s been having all these ideas about art. And I saw a portrait and I…I cried! I fucking cried-can you believe it? I never knew she could..could even make me feel like that!”

 As you left the chambers, you squeezed his hand. Both of you let out a breath and continued some nervous laughter until you were both home.

“That was brilliant!” He praised, sinking in relief in the chair. There was already a fire crackling, drawing warmth into the chilly room.

“I knew he would bring it up, soon. So, I might as well. Now you don’t have to worry about anything…at least for now…” you said with a shrug.

“Oh, but the party tomorrow…you’ll be careful. I think people will be very merry and he might…get carried away…”

“Just give him a galloon a vodka then, he’ll won’t be able to stand.”

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

As the party the next night raged on, it struck you that it was Grigor who was well on his way to drinking a gallon of vodka. The rooms glowed yellow orange with all of the candles. Stringed guitars played out dancing tunes with throaty Russian lyrics where although the words were hard to understand, you had to tap your toes. Women walked by with snakes draped over their necks and you stared in frightened awe at the creature, as if in Eden. Your own gown was a pale pink with bows on the stomacher, a ruffled skirt beneath the first one, and you hair done up in flowers and feathers. You even agreed to wear a beauty mark of a small dog on your cheek. Girgor himself had a grey wig and his finest, deep green suit. He eyed plates of vodka, reaching for two small glasses and downing them…and supper would be served in an hour.

You noticed and Empress and Emperor dancing. She swished her pale pink skirt and he twirled in a black skirt, carefree. It was almost like watching a fight, how they were both powerful yet matched each other.”

“Come on, you sad bastards!? Why aren’t you dancing!? Dance! I command you!” Peter cried out in joy.

“Y/N! Y/N- we haven’t danced too much-let’s dance! Dance with me!” Grigor insisted, pulling you further down.

“Grigor, that’s the vodka talking!”

The musicians were warming up for the next piece in the corner.

“I…I don’t know the…” you mumbled in a panic as other couples filled the floor.

“Oh no-just follow me!” He said with a big smile and his face flushed.

  Still you ran out with him, mimicking hand movements and your feet trying to keep up with the steps. If you felt him leading you somewhere, you followed. If you sepearted in lines, you kept an eye on him.

“Girgor…do the trick! The trick!” Peter insisted, running up in the middle.

Eyes wide, you saw your husband grab hold of your body.

“Here. Y/N! I can do it- hold on! Jump up.

He lifted you up in his arms and twirled you up, his arms adjusting to hold you up so that he held you up by your legs, your stomach to his face. You could hear him muffling beneath your clothes.

“We need smof practif…”

But Peter laughed and you heard loud applauding as faces turned to look at you. Even George’s own face had a smile, albeit a sad one.

He set you down.

“Let’s try it again, put your leg on my shoulder…now your other leg..ooof! Now, this one is better!”

He lifted you up so high, you realized you were on his shoulders, and emabarrasingly his head was near your crotch. The court applauhded and laughed and huzzahed. It was so fun you almost forgot your fear of being dropped. you laughed as you held onto his shoulders for deaer life, thrilled to see everyone smaller before you. As if they dhrunk or you became a giant. The chandeliers dripping with diamonds were easy to your touch, your fingertips grazed one as Grigor walked in a circle.

“Ha! I knew you could do it good chap!” Peter applauded before asking.

Grigor placed you down with a smile, he placed his hands on your cheeks and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, then his eyes wandered to some vodka and he took another shot.

 He was singing as the party ended late in the night. You struggled to support him over your shoulders.

“Grigor…be careful…”

Once you got into the room, Sonya woke up from her nap and barked, jumping at your feet. Staggering, you brought him to your bedchambers.

“Let’s get your clothes off…” you said, pulling his coat off and placing it on the floor.

“You wish to see me naked, you could’ve asked, darling…”

Sighing, you poured the hot water into the golden tub.

“If you don’t bathe, then you’re sleeping with Sonya…”

He leaned down in his shift and breeches to the wagging tail beneath him.

“Oh….hello doggie, cute doggie…good doggie…”

“To bath, Grigor!”

Eventually, you got him to bathe enough to where he didn’t reek of alcohol. Once he dried off, you pushed his breeches onto him.

“None of that tonight with you drunk off your head!”

“Can’t I at least kiss you?” he complained childishly.

“Fine, but it stops at kissing!”

Once you finally settled within your own sheets, legs and feet sore from dancing, you barely put the blankets over you when  you felt two large arms wrap themselves around you and hug you tight, pulling you close. He laughed a bit before kissing you on top of your head. You smirked and let him obloge. Then you felt him relax.

“Y/N, I love you….”

You froze solid, your stomach dropping.

“What?”

He took a hand and placed it on your cheek again, before it sloppily fell down.

“Y/N, my sweet angel…I love you…”

Shaking your head, you pulled the covers above you both.

“That’s the vodka talking, now go to sleep….”

He went back to holding you, turning you so that your back was turned to him, you felt and smelt his breath as he kept speaking.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m falling in love with you this minute and…I’m fucking terrified…”

You let his arms settle.

“Don’t wanna…get hurt, get shat on…but every day I’m….falling more in love with you…and it makes me both so happy and scared I could fucking scream…that was why Orlo fucking scared me, and Peter, that wonderful, bastard. I love him, but if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god…”

“Grigor…you need to sleep. You’re drunk. Only time will wear it off.”

Besides, it was better to not get your hopes up.

‘I can’t believe I’m fucking falling in fucking love all over again…never thought after George that I would….never would let myself…thought ”

“But Grigor…you….”

“I’d like to see you…see you happy. See your smiling face before I sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Grigor…do you…do you love me….do you really love me…”

You gave him a small smile. He then rolled on his belly, spread like a starfish. He was snoring deeply in minutes.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you too…” you wanted to say.

taglist:  @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joesleee   @grigorlee@itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @rhapsodyrecs @sebastiistan​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @gwiilymslee @isitstraightvodka​ @cherry--coke​

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

In A World of Grey🎶🎼

Chapter One

Grey:

Adj: A color intermediate between black and white

Adj: Pale, as through tiredness, age, or illness

‘Didn’t even notice, no punches there to roll with.’

Grey raced down the sidewalk, popping her hips to the music in her ears, grey hair swinging around her hips. She knew she should’ve left the house earlier but, the music was so distracting.

As always, Grey danced to the beat that no one else could hear. A few people sent her dirty looks but, she was too focused on the voice. Today was the day she was going to take the entrance exam for U.A., a prestigious high school for aspiring heroes. She’s dreamed of being a hero for so long and this is her chance to make this a reality. As long as she’s alive her dream of being “Musicality”, a pro hero of sound, will be achieved.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared up at the entrance of U.A., a few happy tears pooing in her light grey eyes. Grey walked through the entrance, looking around in awe at all the students that came. Some had mutation quirks while others appeared to be normal teenagers.

‘You’ve got to keep me focused, You want it? Say so.’

‘It’s so inspirational,’ she fawns at the lyrics. While a lot of people would hate to have music constantly buzzing, it makes Grey feel happy, almost like she’s never alone. Plus, it’s good for her quirk!

“Get out of my fucking way, extra,” she was pushed to the side by a boy with blonde spiky hair. His fists were bunched at his side as he kept going, leaving the girl to wonder what his face looked like.

“Sorry for being in the way,” she smiles brightly, waving at his back. He seems to go rigid for a second before he continues on his path to the school’s front.

Time seems to blur for Grey because one moment she’s standing outside and the next she’s inside a large auditorium sitting at a desk with a pamphlet as she stared at the pro hero known as Present Mic. She wonders if she’d ever get to train with him, wondering if her quirk can be affected by pitches of voice.

‘It’s been a long time since you, fell in love.’

“...ALSO, THAT GIRL KEEPS HUMMING! IT’S DISTRACTING AND DISRESPECTFUL TO THIS HERO,” Grey came out of a small stupor to hundreds of eyes staring at her. She cocked her head to the side, a lip stuck out to form a pout.

“Sorry,” the shouting boy, she would come to know as Iida, tensed the same way the blonde did earlier. It was almost like he could feel how sorry she was and that made him feel like a monster for yelling at the sweet girl. Before he could apologize, Present Mic asked him to sit down so he could continue with the directions for the exam.

“OKAAYYY LISTENERS! DO YOU BEST,” she looks around as people start to leave the auditorium. She giggles when Present Mic seems to get louder; a fellow enthusiastic spirit was found that day.

“Little listener, what are you still sitting there for for?” Grey waited till everyone cleared out. She was reading over the exam information since she hadn’t heard any of Present Mic’s speech. “Were you the one doing the humming? Great tone by the way but wrong place, mini missy.”

“Sorry,” she’s been saying that word a lot lately; it’s becoming her favorite. “My quirk distracts me alot but, that’s okay! I can do this! Heroes always have to adapt so this must be another step for me,” she sprinted out as she was saying her impassioned blurb. “And GREAT SPEECH...well, I wouldn’t know but I bet it was good. BYYYYE.”

Present Mic watched the girl retreat, entranced by her words and adorable presence. “I’ll be watching out for that one.”

Grey manages to make her way to her designated, her peers already ready as they face in to the fake city scene the school prepared. She didn’t know if her quirk would work on the robots but, she sure as hell was going to try.

She could still feel the music flowing through her brain; the melody had repeated so many times she now had it memorized. This was her chance to prove herself. Now, she just had to find the robots.

“Helpppp,” well that was quick! She followed the wailing voice to find a short, brown-haired girl surrounded by three of the robots. It looked like the robots were closing in quick so, she had to act fast.

‘What if it doesn’t work on the robots?!?! I could get her killed and eaten...well not eaten but killed for sure. Uhhgh no no no, I can’t think this way. I’m going to help,’ Grey runs up behind one of the robots, preparing to use her quirk.

“And we can dance all day around it, if you frontin’, I’ll be bouncing,” Grey starts busting out her funky fresh moves while she sings, the lyrics pushed to the surface of the robots. The girl in trouble notices how as she dances and sings, the robots try to copy her moves, only for them to topple over as she continues to dance and sing, having too much fun to notice how it affects the other robots.

“If you want it, scream it. Shout it, babe. Before I leave you dryyy,” Grey bops to her sound, her round hips swaying in circles, her arms in the air as she gyrates to a rhythm unknown to them all. Consequently, the girl gnaws the attention of some robots (a couple which were almost destroyed by her peers before she caught their attention), the robots trying to copy her but short-circuiting from the high energy that radiated from her, leaving the teachers that were watching the exam baffled.

Grey continues her escapade of dancing, not even noticing as the same girl she saved earlier was being saved by a green-haired boy with cute freckles that almost destroyed his entire body.

The boy smashed the top of the robot, leaving it to topple forward, moments away from crushing both of the students.

“Day to night to morning, keep with me in the moment. I’d let you had I known it, why don’t you say so?” the robot freezes midfall, stuck in that position. Why? How? Well, it was all because of Grey shimmying her way up the robots back, eyes closed as she still was unaware of the sheer pressure she gave off. Her eyes were closed and her tongue was lolled out the side of her mouth as she smiled.

“Didn’t even notice, no punches there to roll with. You got to keep me focused, you want me? Say so,” by now? She was on its head, doing an 80’s American disco move as she stomped on its head to the beat of the song. She was stomping so hard, a hole caved in from her foot, the robot falling to its side.

Grey stumbled as the robot fell to the ground, not really knowing what had happened. All she knew was that everyone was staring at her and a robot was shaking its metaphorical ass behind her.

“Hehe, uhh, sorry?”

Meanwhile, the teachers didn’t know what to say. Grey literally danced all over the robot’s ass while still keeping an aura of goofiness. What in the fuck? Why in the fuck did they just witness?

“Mini Missy, definitely didn’t expect that.”

***

‘I know I fucked up, I’m just a loser.’

Grey was antsy for the arrival of the acceptance letter from U.A. It seemed like she already knew she would attend the school yet, she didn’t stop worrying over the facts.

Her eyes strained up to the ceiling, staring at nothing in particular, just listening to the music. She mumbled the lyrics out loud for the universe to hear. It was a song she created herself.

At first, Grey was hesitant to make her own music, scared that she could hurt someone. But, she figured she may as well if she even considered going to the school of her dreams. The song was upbeat yet, the lyrics echoed her somber thoughts.

Yes, she was lonely. Her father had jumped at the opportunity to ship her off to Japan once she told him that she wanted to attend the same high school that Present Mic taught at. She needed help controlling her quirk and he was the only option other than her father that she could think of to help her.

Her relationship with her father had been strained for a long time, both of them never acknowledging what had happened. He tried to be there for her but, the combined tasks of being a hero and dealing with his own emotional baggage proved to be too strenuous for the man.

For the most part, Grey was content with living by herself. She wasn’t happy (then again, she hadn’t really been happy for a long time) but, she wasn’t upset. Although, being alone took a toll on her she often forgot to eat when she got too wrapped up in the music. Sometimes, the music wasn’t pleasant, inducing nightmares that kept her in a coma-like state for hours. She’d scream at what the sounds suggested, trapped in her mind. Blood would pool in her mouth. So, yeah, it would be nice to have someone around to care for her when that happened.

‘Shouldn’t be with ya, guess I’m a quitter.’

This was one of those times. As much as she loved the music, she couldn’t deny the price it took from her. Immobilized by something she couldn’t see, forced to feel what the music chose for her to hear.

As for friends, Grey didn’t have any.

As for family, Grey didn’t have any.

As for emotional support, Grey didn’t have any.

All she had was herself and she had learned to be happy with that; she learned it’s easier to accept the facts rather than deny them.

Eventually, the music dulled from a lion’s roar to a kitten’s mewl but, Grey didn’t move. Her own blood was choking her yet, it felt like a normal suffocating feeling. It seemed into her clothes m, sticking to her skin and assaulting her senses with a copper smell.

‘Now I’m in the bathroom crying, think I’m slowly sinking.’

KNOCK KNOCK

Grey got up to answer her front door and came face to face with the mailman. She probably should’ve tried to clean the blood from her face though.

“M-Ma’am, are you okay? Where are you bleeding from? Do you need an ambulance?” the mailman reached out to touch her. It felt good to be touched.

“Ohhhh, this looks worse than what it is,” she giggled. “I’m actually great. My quirk kinda does this from time to time! I still gotta control it. Sorry for scaring you,” she scratches the back of her neck, sheepishly grinning.

The mailman tensed as many people do when they encounter her, not really knowing what to do as the girl dazzled him. He kinda just pushed the envelope into her hands and dashed to the elevator with a red face.

‘Maybe he’s constipated,’ she thought as she closed the door.

This was it; the moment she finds out if she’s going to get the help she needs to be the hero she’s dreamt of.

“MINIIII MISSSSY, IT’S ME, PRESENT MIC. IM JUST GONNA SAY, you’ve got some moves and that voice,” hologram Mic does a chef kiss and gives her a Cheshire grin. “MUAHHH, DELICIOSO. THERE’S NO QUESTION YOU’RE DEFINITELY ACCEPTED. Between the rescue and attack points, you’ve scored 98 points!!! Some of them weren’t counted, seeing as you stole some points from others but, STILL THATS A LOT. I LOOK FORWARD TO MEETING YOU. PEACE OUT, MINI MISSY,” she blinked.

“Huuhahwhuahh,” Grey kept staring at the hologram, still not believing what he said.

Seeing as Grey couldn’t even remember what happened during the exam, she didn’t think she did good. Apparently, music once again comes to her aid.

She decides to call her dad, hoping that he’ll answer for once. The first call, he doesn’t answer; he never answers the first time. The second call, he doesn’t answer; she expects that. But, the third call, he actually picks up.

“Hello, Grey. Is something wrong?” Her mouth dries. Hearing his voice makes her throat scrunch, her tear ducts getting ready for the flood. “Grey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I just wanted to tell you I got accepted to U.A.,” she fiddles with the carpet at her feet. “I got 98 points on the exam too although, I did kinda daze out so I don’t remember much.”

“That’s good but, you need to stop blanking out. You need to be more considerate of the safety of other,” what about her? “Hopefully, you can get control of it. Listen, I have to go. I have a mission so, I won’t be answering my phone for a while.”

“WAIT...how is she?”

“She’s fine,” he hangs up.

She stared at the floor, music coming back. The phone’s still in her hand as she drops her arms to her side. She just stands there.

‘While you’re out there drinking, I’m just here thinking, bout where we shoulda been. I’ve been lonely.’

***

‘Snogglefuck, music always has to make me late,’ Grey was running down the sidewalk to U.A., dodging the reporters that stood at the entrance. It’s bad enough she can’t stay in to dance so there’s no way she wants to deal with those paid vultures.

‘Don’t we look good together, there’s a reason why they watch us all night long.’

‘Well, there shouldn’t be any harm in a little bit of music,’ she thinks as she shuffled side to side. Oh, poor adorable dancing bean.

She kinda loses track of time, somewhat aware of the world around her but still, shaking her body. She’s bumbled into a few people that give her a few dirty looks (in their defense, she is dancing with no music or humming) but, that doesn’t deter her from walking into Class 1-B, mistaking it for 1-A.

“Missy, wrong class,” Vlad tries to tell her but, she really isn’t listening. “Aizawa’s gonna have his work cut out with this one,” he corrects his mistake by gently grabbing her and placing her at 1-A’s door. He goes to walk off but sees she’s once again dancing towards his class.

“Aizawa, she’s dancing and she keeps trying to follow me back to my class,” Vlad’s tone may be gruff but, he’s amused. He has to nudge her into her assigned class, all while observing that her dancing is increasing in energy. In all his career, he’s never wanted to dance as much as he did then. “Get your little idol.”

“I APOLOGIZE FOR MY CLASSMATE’S MISTAKE. WE HAVEN’T SEEN OUR SENSEI YET. PLEASE EXCUSE HER,” the same boy that reprimanded her at the entrance exams is bowing before the two of them. Vlad just grunts, sporting Aizawa’s sleeping bag underneath his desk but chose not to mention it.

“Just keep her on track,” he turns and ruffles her hair which pulls her out of her trance. “Don’t go dancing off alone before we have to call a search party.”

Grey blushes once she understands that music once again blurred her. But, you can’t really blame her. It’s so catchy!

“Gahhh sorry,” she bows to Vlad and Iida. “The music is awesome though. I’m sure you’d throw it back to the song if you could hear it. Then again, it’s in my head so it’s not like you can unless I made it but, still it’s good. You know I-I’m just gonna go find my seat,” she scurries off.

“What’s your name,” Iida asks. Vlad left him in charge of watching her for the time being and he intends to watch like a hawk.

“Keenum Grey, yeah I see the look on your face. I’m American,” she twirls, not really for Iida but to the beat again. She’s trying to fight the urge.

“YOU OVER THERE WITH YOUR FEET ON THE DESK, REMOVE THEM,” and Iida’s back to yelling. She notes that his yelling isn’t really to be rude so, she’s knows it isn’t bad. “And Keenum-san, I apologize for yelling at you. I didn’t stop to think the humming was for your quirk. It was amazing how you fought those robots and I have noted you to be a worthy rival.”

“Huah? Rival? I didn’t even do anything,” she pouts and stalks over to her desk, slamming her head into it which effectively drives away the music.

‘Why is a saggy banana on the floor?’ she thinks of getting up to kick it. ‘Noooo, don’t do it. What if it moves? I’m not prepared for that possibility. But, I’m curious...I’m gonna do it.’

“Cutie?!” a hand waves around her face to catch her attention. “Are you ignoring me? Aw c’mon, I haven’t even done anything...yet!”

Grey turns to looks at a boy with honey blonde yellow hair, a fringe in the front with a lightning bolt design. His yellow eyes dance with mischief and it makes the music loud once again.

“Oh! No, sorry! I daze out sometimes but hai,” she waves as she sticks her tongue out for her signature greeting (she knows it’s not proper but since she literally shakes her ass every ten minutes, she might as well do what she wants). “I’m Keenum Grey. I look forward to being friends.”

“Kaminari Denki. Oh my god, you really are cute. You have a music quirk, right? Wanna be my songbird?” she bursts out laughing, making a few people around the two laugh as well. “Woooah, you can control emotions too.”

“Kaminari, you’re hogging her,” a boy with three purple balls for hair pops up on her side. He’s playing with a piece of her hair.

“You must like Dutch braids?...Aren’t they just dutchtecular?” Grey says it with such a straight face that Kaminari tries so hard not too snort. “C’mon, you like em. You wanna dutch with the dutch! Kaminari, you know you wanna laugh at the pun. Succumb to the laughter,” she waggles her brows.

“That’s not the only thing I like,” Mineta’s Hans grazed Grey’s exposes thigh.

“Did-DID YOU JUST TOUCH MY aSsEtS?” Grey gasps. Kaminari sounding like a dying whale beside her. Mineta eases away when Iida comes up to her desk, eyes narrowing in on the boy who tried to touch the innocent girl.

“Are you okay?” He asks her to which she nods. “Good, YOU CAN’T TOUCH WOMEN LIKE THAT.”

“I could’ve handled him. I was gonna yeet him out the window,” a determined look crossed her face as she smashed a fist to her hand. Iida gives her an exasperated look. “Hey, it’s yeet or be yeeted in this world. And, he was empty.”

At this point, Kaminari and another boy with black hair and unique elbows were cracking up. Hell, most people in the class had found the girl entertaining. The class had been somewhat quiet (other than Iida’s yelling or Bakugou’s yelling) before she showed up.

��When I walk in with you, I watch the whole room change. Shut the shit down on sight, that’s right. We out here dripping in finesse.’

Grey hit her head down on the desk to drive the music away.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that. It’s dangerous,” the black haired boy told her. “Also, I’m Hanta Sero. Nice to meet you.” Grey decided that she liked his smile.

“Keenum Grey! And, sorry, I kinda gotta do it or the whole class may be dancing if I don’t,” that got the attention of the two you were sitting beside.

“I ain’t dancing to shit,” the blonde with spiky hair said. Grey can finally see his face m (there’s no way she could forget hair like that). His carmine eyes make his face seem even harsher but, they don’t hold the same malice as his voice would suggest.

“That’s what she said,” Grey high-fives Kaminari. “But, who are you? I bumped into you at the entrance exam.”

“Bakugou Katsuki; not that it should matter to you, shitty girl. I’m going to be the best,” she nods her head.

“You must be really strong. I hope you’re able to be the best,” the people in the room go steel. She’s so heartfelt and wholesome that they all want to give her head pats. Hell, even Bakugou can tell she’s being sincere.

“Tch, whatever, shitty girl,” he turns to look out the window to hide his soft eyes.

“That was manly,” the redhead behind Bakugou says. His teeth are sharp and remind her of shark teeth, making her want to touch them to see if they’d hurt her. He had red eyes too but his are a bit happier than Bakugou’s.

‘Why is everyone so good looking? And fit? It’s like being surrounded by webtoons!’ Grey thinks to herself. She’s fits as well but she’s always had a thicker frame with wide hips, making her an hourglass shape.

“...WHY THE FUCK IS HE HERE,” and she oops. She hears Bakugou yelling at a greenette that walked through the door. This is when the banana starts to move, drawing a scream from Grey.

“IT’S MOVING!!! SOMEONE PEEL IT, PLEEEEASE. IT’S GONNA...ohh wait, it’s a sleeping bag. False alarm,” Aizawa facepalms. This girl reminds his mmm of Yamada.

“EVERYONE. IN YOUR SEATS,” he proceeds to tell them not to only focus on making friends and that’s he’s going to test them. Grey, however, it too busy chilling with finesse in her brain.

“Whoever comes last, gets expelled,” gasps ring around her and she nods. Now is the time to prove herself. She’ll show everyone she’s a force to look out for. Now, she just has to ignore the jamfest in her heart.

—————————————————————————-

I’m really excited for this new series😁

Chapter Soundtrack: Say So by Doja Cat, SupaLonely by Benee, Finesse by Bruno Mars ft. Cardi B

@sinclairsamess @sakurashortstack