#had this like AWFUL gut feeling when a classmate said something totally normal the other day

[aropride]

am i having premonitions or do i just have anxiety

[mettywiththenotes]

Izuku’s Emotional Neglect

Hi so I’m not okay because I keep thinking about Izuku

This kid has been emotionally neglected since he was little. Izuku has had NOBODY to rely on emotionally

He didn’t have Inko, or his classmates, or All Might. Actually, All Might is borderline the only one he’s confided in [since they talk briefly about their connection of being quirkless], but he still holds back

Inko is trying her best and no parent is perfect, I see that, but what she said to Izuku that fateful night damaged that boy and the way he saw himself.

He asks her if he can be a hero, and she cries and says she’s sorry. Not only does this imply that Izuku’s quirklessness is bad, it also implies that she was lying.

And by the way, I don’t mean that Inko ACTUALLY lied that Izuku could be a hero, nor do I think that she meant to mean his quirklessness was bad.

But I need, NEED, to stress that this is how Izuku sees it. This is how he would perceive it, subconciously.

If you’re a child and you think that you can be a hero, your parent encourages it because it makes you happy. But then suddenly you can’t be a hero, and you ask them one more time if it’s possible, hoping that those little wishes you made weren’t fruitless, that maybe somehow this is some kind of dream and she’ll wake you up from it with her smile and her warmth, promising that even with this newfound “disability” you can still be a hero, but instead she cries and apologises to you? That’s going to make you think. It’s going to make you think “Was she lying? if she truly believed in me, why would she cry and say she’s sorry? why isn’t she encouraging me, like she always does? what is happening?”

It’s not the truth, and Inko DIDN’T lie, but subconsciously I feel like it’s something that betrayed Izuku a great deal.

And with the quirklessness. He hates it, he hates feeling useless, and he saw himself as useless when he was quirkless, therefore -> quirkless is something weak and awful.

Time and time again, we see this evidence of the emotional neglect he was subjected to. It’s like actively ongoing and the effects of it are seen even now

We’ll start with the Inko one. I just mentioned it, but here are the panels. It’s really just the language that she uses

“You mean there’s something wrong?”

Apologizing over and over again, like not being normal was a bad thing. Moreso, I think this just meant that she knew how hard Izuku’s life was going to be as a quirkless person, but the way she says it makes it sound like what happened to Izuku was wrong and bad and incredibly awful

Then we have All Might disregarding his feelings and telling him straight up that he couldn’t be a hero

Which then leads to this commentary

“Don’t cry! Let it sink in!!” “Just block it out, just block it all out, just-”

*pats Izuku on head* You Can Fit So Much Denial And Repression Into This Kid!

Then further along, Izuku is seen, and he gets the quirk. He is then surrounded by people that love him, that want to help him, but it’s almost like even the narrative won’t let him have emotional closure.

In most emotional closure scenes (Tsuyu crying, Kirishima vs Rappa, Iieda in the hospital with Shouto and Izuku, Kacchan vs Deku 2), there is an end to it. The character is emotional, crying or upset, and thinking back on their regrets, spilling their guts as they scream, sob, or give solemn expressions. The other characters then cheer/hype them up, reaching some sort of conclusion to the character’s pain, and the situation is more or less resolved.

But that’s not the case with Izuku. He’s always left sorta hanging there, or his hurt and anger get sidetracked by something else. One example of this is the Running With All Might scene in the UA grounds

Izuku is incredibly upset that All Might chose to withhold information on Sir Nighteye and Mirio, and he speaks about how he can’t make sense of it. He’s voicing all his worries to All Might as they run, because he can’t stand the thought of All Might keeping something like this a secret from him.

And then All Might tells him why he kept it a secret, that he didn’t feel it was necessary to let Izuku know about Nighteye’s bias, and then it divulges into him telling Izuku he’s gonna die, and Izuku focuses on that instead.

I am NOT saying that All Might did this purposefully. He didn’t try and steer Izuku’s anger away from him, it was just that it all got revealed so suddenly, so the subject changed.

The narrative tosses Izuku’s feelings of anger aside, and instead Izuku gets emotional over All Might’s potential death. Idk man, to go from angry and upset about withheld information and then immediately shoved into the knowledge that your mentor-father figure is gonna die? That’s the narrative playing with Izuku’s feelings.

Obviously, All Might’s communication skills are awful and he just kinda unloaded all this stuff on Izuku cuz he didn’t think to tell him in the first place, but I still think Izuku’s feelings got pushed around here. He had no time to process any of it

Another example is the cafeteria scene with Shouto and Iieda

The scene goes that Izuku is visibly depressed by the Eri situation and Iieda and Shouto notice. They tell him that he can talk to them when everything gets too much [a parallel to the Stain fight], and Izuku cries. Izuku insists he shouldn’t cry, and Shouto tells him that, actually, Heroes cry too sometimes, and they offer him their food in an attempt to comfort him.

But the thing is, this scene doesn’t offer closure. Closure would be Izuku seeing that he could rely on his friends and telling them how he feels [he wouldn’t have to necessarily tell them about Eri - maybe just phrase it in another way that doesn’t reveal the mission]. Closure would be Izuku accepting that Heroes can cry too, and admitting he’s not okay. Instead, we have this

The scene feels... incomplete? Like there’s no knot at the end of the rope. Izuku is being comforted, but he’s not acknowledging his own feelings of sadness.

In fact, he’s shoveling food into his mouth to stop himself from crying, to shut himself up, to try and move forward and get past his little outburst.

I would go as far as to say this is self hatred eating, trying to quell that vulnerable part inside

I wouldn’t say Izuku HATES himself now. Rather, he just makes connections to his past quirkless self in his mind. It’s the negative emotion connection

Feeling weak? Well, you’re still like your quirkless self before! You’re still not good enough and useless!

Not strong enough? Sounds like back when you were quirkless! All weak and helpless! You can’t help anyone, which is why you need to get stronger, so you can move on from your past self!

Crying? Just like when you were quirkless! You always cried back then, like a helpless kid! You can’t be like that anymore, since you are now All Might’s Successor and A Hero, so stop crying! You’re not allowed to cry anymore!

Do you see what I’m getting at here? Izuku continuously represses these emotions as he gets stronger because he connects them to when he was quirkless. If you associate certain behaviors and emotions with how you were during a vulnerable and traumatic time in your life, you’re going to want to shove those emotions down so you don’t repeat what happened back then [in this case, Izuku sees himself being vulnerable as weak, and he saw himself as weak when he was quirkless, so he’s trying not to be vulnerable anymore].

And the scary thing is, now, we can even see the hatred in real time. I’m sure there are other examples in the manga, but one scene is very prominent in my mind, and it’s this one

Izuku is so incredibly strong now, he has saved many people, but he still can’t view himself as anything other than “useless” or “helpless” unless he powers through death itself just to break himself more. He almost feels like he HAS to do that in order to be seen as worthy, for himself and others. When he’s struggling, bleeding and heavily injured, he yells at himself as if it’s all his fault.

It’s not about whether he’s aware he’s actively dying or not. To him, being worthless and useless is infinitely worse than dying.

Actually, the way Izuku practically yells at himself in this panel reminds me of when he was walking home in chapter 1 after his chat with All Might [shown above when talking about All Might’s impact]

There are two translated versions of this actually that ring alarm bells in my head. There is the panel already pictured above, but I chose this panel too because I simply think it hits harder

“Don’t cry! You knew already, right?! This is reality...”

In either translation, he’s chiding himself. For crying. For being emotional.

And once again, I totally think this stems from emotional neglect. Trying not to get too personal here, but I know what this feels like, and I know the effect it has had on me. I can’t be vulnerable or spill my feelings in front of people, it just feels illegal or smthg. Like it shouldn’t be done. And like... if you’re taught from an early age that, one way or another, your feelings don’t matter and that nobody is going to pay attention to you, why try, right?

Then you just begin to Not Feel Properly, and you become incapable of expressing your feelings in a healthy manner

Current examples of this?

Izuku literally not giving himself time to process anything, like worry, grief, sadness. If anything, the only emotion he gives time for is anger. And he specifically directs it at All For One, cause that’s his target. [we saw little bits of this in War Arc but it also applies to the current arc]

He can’t cry. He feels emotional, sure. But he never lets his tears shed.

And one last bit of evidence

I’d say most if not all of these sound about right

In conclusion I wanna hug Izuku

[ohheyitsokay]

concessions

part 2 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francesco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.4k

warnings: none (yet)

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU - trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, you run into the guys outside of the stadium and they promptly decide you’re going to be friends with them.

>>

Your friend was twelve minutes late. Not overly long but you could already tell what was going to happen.

It had been a long shot, anyway, an old classmate with little lasting connection. You had been trying to push yourself outside of your comfort zone anyway, why not? When she had originally reached out you’d been full of hope, enough to foolishly order your favorite appetizer as a ice breaker but the effort was in vain.

Fingernails gently clicking against the table, you caved and allowed yourself to look at your phone. It brought instant comfort, to escape the exposure of sitting alone in a restaurant, but you couldn’t stay. The air was cold as you sucked it through your teeth, weighing your options. The confidence it took to eat alone after being stood up was facing a strong competitor: your general policy not to waste good food and good money.

Shifting, you tried to settle, tried to pose yourself like you were in control, looking around the room as nonchalantly as you could. It was silly, your urge to keep moving, your feet on the ground, your hands on the table, your eyes on the other patrons, but you couldn’t help it. It was a nice place, nothing fancy, just a hole in the wall restaurant, filled only with a few locals.

Until your appetizer came around the corner, followed by a much more handsome man than you were prepared for.

His already smiling eyes met yours, and you looked away, startled, maybe blushing a little. He was familiar, too familiar. You tried to focus on the young lady waiting on you, and the steam coming from the plate in her hands.

Just focus on the food, you scolded yourself silently, thanking her and not ordering anything else. He was not your friend, he didn’t even know you, really. There was no need to make him feel uncomfortable.

Except, he wasn’t really worried about that, because he was sliding into the seat across from you.

“Hi,” he was grinning, confident and friendly, and your instincts raised no alarms other than confusion.

“Hello,” you replied, wondering honestly if you were dreaming. This was one of the men you’d met before, in that chaotic, over decorated room in the baseball stadium. He had been in front of you maybe fifteen total seconds, talking to James, before melting back into the sea of uniforms and caps. There was no reason he should remember you much less… be doing whatever was happening now.

The man mistook your expression for panicked forgetfulness and reintroduced himself.

“I’m Ben, Ben Miller? We met a a week or two ago,” he was searching your face for recognition, which of course was not the problem at all. It was sweet, how bashful he was when he pointed to the picture of the team’s logo on the poster by your table, and mouthed “the shortstop?”.

It seemed like he wasn’t trying to draw extra attention to himself, which was almost comical. Even with his casual tshirt and jeans he was easily the most noticeable person in the room – that’s how good he looked, and a testament to the visible confidence of men like him. He was all limber muscles and strong jaw and kind eyes and it wasn’t easy to just tuck that away.

“I – yeah,” this was awkward. “I’m sorry for staring at you, I just don’t normally see … non-locals here.” You smiled, weakly.

There was something in his voice and a glint in his eyes as his blue eyes glanced behind you.

“Would you believe it if I said we were locals?”

All of a sudden his looks were commonplace, because there was another man next to him who was a little broader and a little rougher around the edges- but surprisingly similar in casual masculinity. The “we" clicked into place.

“What’s this?” the first-baseman said, his expression more or less mirroring your own.

A handful of other men followed him and you wanted to melt into the chair. It was too much, too weird. They were all peering at you, dark eyebrows and cool toned cloth stretched over broad chests and it was the most bizarre thing. You weren’t really shy, per se, but stuff like this didn’t happen to you. Fidgeting you stared back at them, feeling helpless.

Ben came to your rescue again, guilty, but far too friendly to stop, like runaway dog at a park.

“I was just telling her that Will and I are from town! And we love it here,” he grinned, winningly, still failing to explain why he was seated with you.

Their hellos were amused and charismatic, for the most part, save the man in the back. It was… Francisco. Or rather, Mr. Morales.

Your heart thumped the same thump that you’d been feeling whenever you thought of him.

His voice was quieter, eyes reaching into yours like he had questions to ask, before he fixed them on the surroundings instead. They were crowding the area, all tall and much to large to fit in between tables. It would have been annoying if this were a busier place.

“You guys go on, I’ll be right there,” the shortstop across from you ushered them away, out of politeness or something else you weren’t sure. It was sad, to see him go again but the absence of attention made you breathe again. You waved, sure you looked ridiculous, and wondering if other women would be dying to be in your stead.

“Sorry, I just wanted to say hi,” Ben seemed earnest again, and you couldn’t help but relax. It was charming, the way his eyebrows dipped and he fidgeted, just a little. “You looked… lonely,” he added, hesitating before standing up with a gentle slap to the table. “Come join us if they don’t show, I’m sure the guys wont mind!”

You nodded, still more or less in shock, and he walked off, strides long and easy, like there was hardly anything weighing on his shoulders.

If they hadn’t been but 20 paces away, you would have shoved the plate aside and replaced its spot on the table with your face, and groaned aloud. You barely registered your food as you ate, wondering at the whole thing in awe as you took out your phone again to text James.

-

Frankie tried not to watch you. He really did. He loved his friends and they seldom got a chance, just the five of them to eat somewhere so homey and casual, without the whole crew, or fans and cameras, or other things to attend to. They’d been close for a long time, happy they enjoyed one another and trusted one another more than the rest of the team. It was what made them so good in the starting lineup – their communication and comradery off field translated into their game.

For awhile he was doing well. He wasn’t watching as you finished your food, hardly noticed the way your hands ran through your hair, barely registered when you stood up, brushing crumbs off your legs, and walked towards the front to pay.

But he did notice when you slid over to their table and… he couldn’t tear his eyes away as your hand touched Benny's shoulder. The movement was smooth and gentle and there was a sharp feeling in his gut.

“Thanks for before,” your voice was quite, more composed than before, now that your feet were under you properly. It wasn’t meant for him, wasn’t his to hear, but he listened anyway. The group was seated at one of those round corner booths, and really, there was no escaping it – they were on the ends.

Benny was saying no problem and Frankie took a long sip of his drink trying to cool down before he was choking on it as his friend invited you to join.

The idea of you sitting here was… a double edged sword. On one side, the chance to talk to you, be around you even in the low lights of the restaurant neons – was too good to be true. His daydreams of you hadn’t slowed down nearly as much as he had hoped after you were gone. And on the other… of all the men here, he didn’t stand much of a chance. The flicker of warmth your little wave had given him began to fade and he tried too late to get in control of his facial expressions as you considered the offer.

When Redfly reached across Ben, though, shoving the younger man to grab your hand, suppressing the growl in his throat was more important than the glare. Next to him, Pope eyes were sharp, catching everything unsaid. His friend was as tense as he was, feeling the charged energy fill the booth.

Some ridiculous part of Frankie was wanting to pull you away, tuck you under his arm, and keep you all to himself. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t. He didn’t even know your name.

Then Will was pulling Tom back with laughter that didn't reach his eyes and Santi was apologizing, saying smooth words and coaxing you to reintrodunce yourself and pull up a chair and hang out.

Frankie would never know how Pope was so good at these things, how his passion made other people relent and reconsider and made them feel safe, but he was grateful for it. He tucked your name away, sure he wouldn’t forget it again. Especially because you pulled your chair up by him, and his heart swelled with something akin to pride as you leaned towards him, more than even Ben.

It could have been politeness, making room for the waitress, it could have been a coincidence, or that you wanted to be further from Tom, but he could quite bring himself to care. Having you close felt good, so much better than it should’ve, given the circumstances.

Even more than normal athletes, the Miller boys ate like they were hollow, and had ordered enough food for a week. There was plenty of talk and teasing and tossing of rolls, and it took you no time at all to settle in.

You found out you had some mutual acquaintances with Will, which helped, as you launched into comparisons of the town and laughed over shared observations. It made you feel at home, with him and Ben, and you understood how the brothers made everyone feel like family. Apparently there was girl Benny liked, who worked with the team’s athletic trainers. None of the boys had wheeled it out of him, but it took you less than fifteen minutes, your smile brighter as you sorted through his intentions.

Santi had a quick tongue, and you matched it. There was respect in his eyes as you leveled with Redfly, efficiently and effectively putting him back in his place. The older man head leaned back, nonchalantly, with raised eyebrows and low whistle, but Pope knew when Tom was embarrassed. There was an almost indiscernible bite onto the inside of the outfielder’s lower lip, a child’s tell.

He watched everyone, really, especially Frankie. They’d been playing together the longest and saw the best and worst of each other. It was fun, for him to watch his friend watch you. When you puckered your lips to suck a bead of water off your finger, Frankie’s jaw twitched. Like he was thinking of tilting his cheek towards you as you leaned in to kiss it – and Santi grinned, the gears in his mind turning.

For being as confused and awkward as you were before, it was crazy how well you fit.

Frankie liked your laugh, easy and pure, and the glint in your eyes when someone said something clever. He liked how friendly you were, even to Tom, and how you treated them like people. You never once stepped into the role of flirtatiously asking about the sport – or about being professional athletes all, and it was a breath of fresh air. Most outsiders would have their fingers tracing the curves of the muscles on Pope's arm as they asked him about pitching or would be tugging down the necklines of their shirts as they tried to be subtle about salaries. He liked how you talked about the food, asked them what they were up to that day, and actually listened when they answered. It was graceful, more that even Ironhead’s throw, how you managed to give each one of them attention, without controlling the conversation.

What Frankie liked best of all, though, was when yours eyes would meet his. They were narrow with laughter, and it was almost as if he were an hour away from know exactly what you were thinking. You’d lean towards him, just a hair, and under the thrum of conversations you would tell him little things, jokes or confessions like you were the best of friends.

When you murmured, “I actually don’t know anything about baseball,” he choked on his drink again, mind filled with unreachable moments. The boys were laughing at him, but he ignored it because they hadn’t heard you and... he could almost feel it – you against his chest as he showed how to swing a bat, your hand in his as he leaned in close, explaining, and him spinning you around in a victory hug.

All too soon the plates were being cleared and everyone was arguing over who should be paying. It made them smile, how earnestly you were offering, but there was no way in hell. 

You thanked them all verbally, but when Santi ended up paying, he got a quick peck on the cheek and that sharp feeling in Frankie’s gut returned with force.

As you left, before they could walk you out, you cherished the experience like a drop of honey on your tongue, confident this was a once in a life time thing, and excited to tell James about it. Of course you had texted him – he was the one who told you if you didn’t sit with them he’d never forgive you.

Then men behind you continued to talk, each silently thinking of their own reasons for being sure they’d see you again soon.

And when you walked past the window by the corner on the way to your car, a pair of deep brown eyes found yours through the glass. You waved, goodbye, and this time, the ache in your heart was aligned with the ache in his.

Thank goodness that old classmate never showed up.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms 

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

Just Another Day in Fuyuki

Follows the events of Fuyuki’s 5th Holy Grail war from the perspective of an ordinary student.* (also lmao i put it on ao3 too)

*(This idea was based off a hilarious YouTube comment I read)

The first time she realized that something was rotten within the town of Fuyuki was on a cool, midnight blue night. It was a night like no other, ivory rays of moonlight dancing atop her skin as she took a casual jog past the all-too familiar gates of Homurahara Academy.

It should’ve been a normal night, yet the streets were much more silent than usual. Before she could spin to the side to cross over to the next junction; a powerful array of red lights assaulted her eyes, darting around like spirits.

‘WHAT?’ As she looked back, she saw that the red lights were emanating from none other than Homurahara Academy itself! That was strange, she had never witnessed such an event before.

‘Looks like we’ve got a case of delinquents at our place as well, huh?’ All it took was a split second for her to turn her back against the bizarre sight, regarding it as no more than a minor prank. Well of course she did. It’s not as if anything exciting happened within Fuyuki, anyway!

Little did she know that such an action may have saved her very life...

‘Good morning. Recently we’ve been sighting reports of multiple gas leaks and bloodless murders. In addition to this, there’s recently been an online trend of blurry pictures of people wearing suspicious cosplay being shared online. Many sources suggest that...’

As the local Fuyuki news blared yet more macabre news surrounding recent incidents, the young girl slipped on her wood brown loafers, as she patted down her coffee brown school jumper.

The young girl’s name was none other than Sakaki Ayane; a student of Homuhara Academy. As she jammed her plain, homemade bento filled to the brim with Strawberry Cream Sandwiches and Fried Chicken Cutlets into her extremely ordinary school bag, and switched off the plain television with a bland remote, a singular thought passed her mind.

‘It really is just another normal day in Fuyuki today!’ Sure, the news was terrifying- but hey, as long as her daily peace wasn’t disturbed, she was fine! Slamming the door to her basic house closed, she skipped through the mundane streets of her hometown, warm sunlight beaming down on her face, as she bowed politely to  fellow shop-owners and neighbors.

See, her life was totally fine! There was no need to worry about the news, or that time she witnessed giant fireworks at her school, after all! Everything was definitely all-ok!

As she prowled past numerous mounds of identically-emblazoned students, and sat herself right in the middle of Fujimura Taiga’s homeroom class- students guffawing at their sensei’s top-notch sense of humor- she breathed a sigh of relief.

However once lunchtime passed, Ayane was shocked speechless by a minor change to her daily lifestyle. Just as usual, her orange-haired classmate- Emiya Shirou- had caught the entire hall’s attention, due to his lively interactions with a twin-tailed genius named Tohsaka Rin. Ayane was pretty used to their interactions by now- Emiya would bust out into an awkward show, whilst students would gasp, their faces marred with awe and jealousy. As for Rin, she knew next to nothing about the beautiful girl, except for the fact that she’d sometimes catch her mid-conversation with Emiya, using rather surreal vocabulary such as ‘holy grail’ and ‘mages’.

Thinking it was nothing much, Ayane was convinced that Emiya and Tohsaka were a bunch of Roleplayers or something. She didn’t know much about the genre, but found it to be quite fun to imagine scenarios such as being a mage fighting over holy grails, and fighting dangerous beasts- such as skeleton armies. ‘I mean, why else would they talk as if they’re in the middle of a quest?’ Taking another humongous munch out of her sandwich, shock finally settled into her pores once she noticed that something was a little off about their interactions this time.

‘Where’s Shinji?’ That greasy-seaweed-haired, smug little man’s features were very prominent in Ayane’s mind. Based on her assumptions, he was the kind of idiot who kept on trying to interrupt Emiya and Tohsaka’s Roleplay sessions- much to both their chagrins.

However, this time- he wasn’t here at all?! Where had he gone off to? ‘I guess they finally kicked him off their Roleplay club, once and for all.’ Ayane heaved a sigh at that. She had no idea why they’d accommodate such a selfish guy in the first place; seeing as he always kept on trying to centre their Roleplaying on topics concerning himself instead! ‘If I was a Roleplayer, I definitely wouldn’t want him on my squad!’ Incredulously tapping her feet against the linoleum flooring; she tried to think of various reasons as to why Shinji was kicked out of the gang.

But it was to no avail. Slamming her head against the tea brown shade of her desk, she groaned.

That was it! There was no choice but to catch the latest gossip! Packing up her lunchbox, she rushed out of the classroom like a blur of wind; leaving bemused classmates in her wake. Running as if her life depended on it, she leapt onto the school roof; caught sight of the local gossips- and pulled out a spare sandwich.

“I’ll offer you this sandwich! So, spare me the news, what’s going on with Shinji?!”

A bunch of confused girls, smack bang in the middle of a game of cards- looked up at Ayane, their faces confused.

“Shinji? Who’s Shinji again?” A girl with blonde hair and piercings shrugged her shoulders.

“You know, that rich guy? That one that has cash leaking outta his pockets.���

“Oh, that guy? Have no clue.”

“A friend of a friend of a friend dated him. Said he’s a pain in the butt to be around.”

“Yes, that’s the one!” Ayane pointed excitedly, as she plonked herself in between the girls, her body heaving with laboured breaths. “So, what happened? When did he disappear?”

“If you want details like that, you’re gonna have to offer more than a sandwich,” The blonde-haired girl whined. “You’re always asking us for gossip these days, Ayane.”

“A-ah, is that so?” Anxiously wiping sweat off her forehead, Ayane rummaged through her bag: oodles of paper; pretty rocks; textbooks and other strange materials clattering onto the stone ground. Eventually, she uncovered a small talisman from her bag, eyes gleaming with excitement. “How about this then? I’m sure this is worth quite a bit of yen!”

“Dude, my sister bought that for 500 yen the other day. No dice from me.”

“It’s pretty cute, though...I’ll take it!” As one girl happily exchanged it with Ayane, the others spun their heads in horror.

“Kikuo! You damn betrayer!”

“You can’t be human, accepting such a cheapskate offer!”

“Damn, though...I can relate. Who can resist cute things, amirite?”

As they began to squabble, Ayane laughed. Nothing beat a good gossip session!

The school day had finally ended, with only the loud cheering and yells of various school clubs filling the now empty halls of Homurahara Academy. As she pulled out her loafers from her metallic gray shoe locker; a conflicted expression crossed her face, as she recalled the events of her gossip session.

“Ah, that Shinji? Well, it was really odd, but he pissed off right after a major incident hit our school!”

“W-what happened?” Ayane was more or less right in the other girl’s face, her eyes bulging with curiosity.

“E-erm, well...” Blushing awkwardly, the girl scratches her face. “I mean, weren’t you there? It was kinda unforgettable.”

“Actually, I decided to take a day off school that day.” Ayane’s directness was like a major slap in the face for the others. “School can be really boring sometimes...”

“I had a feeling you’d say that...” Another sighed. “Well anyway, some HUGE shit happened. Like we were all sitting in class one second-”

“- and then there was this weird- ass red light-”

‘What is it with our school and red lights?’ Ayane’s gut instinct could tell that something was strange about this story. It felt unreal.

“-Yeah, and then like everything just blacked out. Like the only memory I have is of me waking up the next day or something.” The other girls nodded in assent. “It’s like some freaky curse possessed the shit out of Homurahara Academy or something!”  None of them were able to fill in the missing blanks about what happened; eventually blaming it all on poison gas.

“Well, anyway; Shinji disappeared from that day onwards. Not like that’s a bad thing, mind you.” And that was it.

As Ayane exited the gates, a heavy cloud permeated her mind. Time was certainly out of joint, for them to not even be able to recall what happened! ‘Maybe Shinji was possessed by a ghost...’ Strolling by the courtyard, she caught sight of a familiar purple-haired student.

It was Matou Sakura. Because Ayane was such a nosy student, she recognised her as that one shy girl who’d label her classmate-Emiya, as her senpai. As she passed the girl, she bowed ever-so-slightly in respect, as Sakura embarrassedly bowed back. Watching after her back, yet another terrifying wash of surprise crawled across her back.

Didn’t Sakura usually meet up with that one super-glamorous, plum-haired model-like lady on her way home? It was strange to see Sakura walking home alone.

‘Shit’s really hitting the fan now...’ Ayane mused, as she turned in the opposite direction. She needed an emotional escape to purge herself of the encroaching force of dread threatening to engulf her body. ‘Ah, that’s it! Let’s go to the harbour!’ Regaining her previous sense of joy, Ayane more or less sprinted to Fuyuki Harbour. Aside from a few guests, people going fishing- and the odd seagull- it was often quiet, making it the perfect place for silent contemplation!

She more or less flew towards the harbour, breathing in a deep gulp of the fresh sea air once she arrived. The harbour was like heaven, drifting clouds trundling overhead. Pointing exuberantly at that one special lighthouse perched far away, she grinned. ‘This is the best- OH?!’

Before she could release a scream of joy, she caught sight of something.

It seemed as if she wasn’t alone at the harbour, after all. Shielding her eyes from the billowing wind, she caught sight of a rather fit man in skin-tight black pants; and a figure-hugging white shirt. But what really caught her off-guard was his bold blue locks of hair.

‘Hey, wait a minute!! Why does he remind me of those blurry pictures of people wearing suspicious cosplay?!’ Clamping a hand over her mouth, she prayed to all of the gods and deities in the world to disguise her presence. Seeing as the man was looking so intently at the sea, she didn’t want to disturb his peace time. ‘What a shame...’ One of Ayane’s favourite hobbies was to scream at the harbour, where nobody else could hear her. However, she would be cordial to this visitor today. ‘You better watch out, blue hair!’ She declared in her mind; fists clenched. ‘I’ll be considerate today, but won’t be next time! If I see you again, you’ll definitely have to put up with me screaming at the sea!!’

As she moonwalked as silently as possible away from the sparkly man, a major thought hit her mind. ‘There sure have been a lot of beautiful people with stunning hair colours hanging out in Fuyuki lately...’ It made her somewhat excited yet terrified at the same time to see just how much her daily life was changing.

Oh well, there was no choice but for her to release her pent-up emotions somewhere else instead. As a rather detailed map of Fuyuki appeared within her mind, a lightbulb popped in her brain. ‘The Fuyuki City Centre!’ Nothing was better than throwing one’s emotions at a cup of ice cream. ‘I’m a genius,’ Ayane twirled down the road, pattering rays of sun following behind. After screaming at the sky in the park (startling a few children); and buying the biggest matcha sundae that she could afford, she was all set for the day and ready to go home.

Although today had been quite suspicious, things were finally settling back to normal. Or so she thought. All peace instantly came to a halt, as she bumped into something quite long. ‘Oh crap!’ Raising her head, she came face-to-face with none other than a human wearing a... strange combination between a... biker outfit and school uniform? ‘Never seen an outfit like that before.’ As she bowed in apology, a piercing gaze reminiscent of death itself froze her body to its very core.

“The humans of this era are such pathetic mongrels...” The voice trailed off, as the harsh man’s presence all but disappeared.

‘Err...What?’ Once he was out of sight, her legs buckled; as she fell to the ground- passer-by's sparing her disgruntled glances. ‘I’ve never felt a presence that scary before...’ Clutching her heart anxiously, the shadow of death curled itself around her chest; suffocating her breath. It would take until the pitch black of night for her to regain her composure again. As she trawled back home within the dark, Ayane exhaled painfully, clutching her head.

What a weird day this had been! ‘I’m so glad I’m home now.’ Relieved, she withdrew her jangling keys from her bag; overjoyed to be right in front of her basic house again!

“Yay, I’m home-?!!!!” The ground beneath her rattled ominously, as she toppled to the ground- her eyes rattling wildly. Powerful tremors rippled around her, warping Fuyuki into the most demonic rollercoaster ride she had ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

‘WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!!!’ Idealistic images of the bland, mundane Fuyuki that she loved were shattering, right before her eyes. As a mere human she was blissfully unaware of the blood-curdling terrors lurking right beside her, in this cursed town...This was the fate of those unaware of the events of the Fifth Holy Grail War.

THE END

(lmao Ayane is the weirdest original character EVER. However, I do wonder what random passers-by think about all of the strange crap occurring in Fuyuki!)

[kokichi-and-co-imagine-blog]

!!!!!! V3 LIS AU !!!!! KAEDE AS PROTAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

Now you’re speaking my language! 

Granted, I haven’t gotten to play any of the most recent game because my computer is kinda crappy, but I can definitely do some sweet original LIS content for you! If you haven’t played LiS for some reason yet and you want to get into it,

I highly recommend waiting on reading this. (If you want me to do other parts and other episodes, let me know. I probably won’t write for this again unless people really REALLY like this.)

I’m also going to make it a talent swap just for Kaede- instead of being the ultimate pianist, she’s going to be the ultimate photographer.

Day 7: Kaede’s Life is Hella Strange: Chrysalis

Kaede was trying to listen to her lecture, but just couldn’t bring herself to do so. After such a weird vision that felt so real, she couldn’t just ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t quite sure if she had just dreamed that up, or if she was getting some serious premonitions, but it wasn’t sitting with her well.

Koizumi was a great teacher. Probably the crowning jewel of Kibougamine Academy, and she was excited to have such a skilled photographer teaching her class. You wouldn’t expect it from the students sitting in her class though- some were hassling poor Shuichi, the most timid person in the room for something that had happened to him over the weekend, while Kokichi played on a little device, yet somehow paid attention to every word out of Koizumi’s mouth.

“…Shh, keep that to yourself. Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn’t that too…” Koizumi continued on, leaning on a table and playing with her tie. 

Kaede glanced over at her camera, picking it up gingerly. The weight in her hands had become comforting to her, and she couldn’t help but sigh happily. She loved her polaroid camera, finding it silly how she could love such an old camera despite there being so many new models out there, but she couldn’t help it. She got it right before she had moved away from Arcadia Bay, and she wondered if that camera was what brought her back. Feeling a great urge to use it, she took a selfie that she hoped would be underneath everyone’s radar.

It most certainly wasn’t.

“Shh, I believe Kaede has taken what you kids call a ‘selfie’…” Koizumi said, shifting her weight as she stood up. it wasn’t every day that Miss Koizumi would get such a stern look on her face, and Kaede couldn’t help but gulp at the consequences. “A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Kaede… has a gift.”

She knew where this was going. She knew that Miss Koizumi was just moments a way from asking some question that was bound to be in the reading. Probably something having to do with her selfie? The process? She knew what it was called, but she wasn’t ready to be put on the spot for her actions.

“…  and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” Koizumi asked, calmly waiting for an answer to stumble out of Kaede’s mouth.

“I… I…” She started. The Daguerreian Process. just say it, she thought.

“You either know this, or not, Kaede!” Koizumi slammed her hand on the desk, a sigh following the action. “Is there anyone in here who actually knows this stuff?”

“Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created “daguerreotypes”, a process that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror,” Kokichi piped up, turning to Kaede’s table she was sitting alone at. “Now you’re toooootally stuck in the retro zone! Sad face.” He leaned back contentedly when he heard a few people laugh at his comment.

“Jeez, was it that hard to read the book for the information? The Daguerreian Process brought lots of detail to people’s faces. You guys would know if you had actually read about it or looked it up online, but we can thank Robert Cornelius for the first American self-portrait.” The bell rang before she could continue her lecture, and people started trying to file out of the room. She was calling to them about the Everyday Heroes contest, which was a big deal for them- the winner got to fly out to San Francisco with Miss Koizumi, and be featured in an art gallery of other winners across the country.

Kaede got up slowly, stretching a bit as she did. She would’ve normally just immediately left the room so she could have a bit of alone time, but her eyes landed on Shuichi, who was still sitting alone at his desk, scribbling something illegible onto the paper. With a tap on his shoulder, he jumped a bit only to let himself calm down when he saw Kaede’s patient face smiling at him.

“Oh, hey Kaede. Did you need something from me?” He asked, turning his body to face her. She stopped, and looked over at the concerning doodles that were surrounding his notes. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

“I was just thinking that maybe we should grab tea or something? You can tell me all about the dazzling life of Shuichi Saihara, and we can maybe play games or something!”

“Oh, uh,” He started, taking his hat in his hands, “I’m gonna be a bit busy for the next couple of days, so I don’t believe that I could find the time. Maybe on Friday, though?” He bit his lip, eyes falling to the floor as he waited for a response. Kaede gave him a small nod and patted his shoulder gently.

“Yeah. that would be fun.”

With that, Shuichi went back to writing whatever he was before, and she was a step away from the door when Koizumi called her over to the desk where Kokichi was leaning over, giving his usual smile.

“Ohhhh, she totally called you out! I wonder what you did!” He nudged Kaede playfully, waiting for her to shrug off the contact. She didn’t seem to pay much mind about what he was doing, so he simply crossed his arms and waited for her conversation with Miss Koizumi to be done.

“I hate to pull a future star photography’s attention away from whatever she was off to do, but we need to talk about the contest. You haven’t submitted a photo yet,” she explained, motioning to a pile of pictures that the students who’ve already turned in sat upon. Kaede gave a nervous smile, shrugging a little bit.

“i just want to make sure I have the right shot for it. I can’t send in a piece I’m not proud of, right?”

“While that’s true, time is ticking, Kaede. You have a fever to take pictures, but the world won’t stop for that perfect shot, okay? Keep that in mind. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, hopefully with a picture.” With that, she turned back to Kokichi, talking about some big project he was working on. Kaede left the class, looking at all her classmates going about their daily lives. With some classical music to accompany her on the way to the bathroom, she walked through the hallway.

The bathroom was empty when she went in, and it was almost eerie how quiet it was. Sure, she was just trying to go to the bathroom to splash her face with water, but life wasn’t going to let things go by that easy for her.

Looking at her original photo she took for the contest, she tore it in half, letting it lay on the ground pitifully. She was about to walk out of the bathroom and call it at that, but a blue butterfly flew in, landing gracefully on the edge of a bucket behind the stall doors. She walked over to it, getting as close as she thought would be ok for the butterfly before snapping a picture. She took the picture as it came out of her polaroid, letting it dry for a moment before storing it safely. 

The door suddenly opened, and angry footsteps echoed in the room. Peeking from behind the stalls, Kaede recognized it as Miu.

“Chill out, Miu, you’ve got this. Just- fuckin’- count to three or whatever– don’t be such a pussy, you could have all the pigs in the school grovel at your feet, you’re the boss,” She babbled mercilessly as she gripped the sink she stood at tightly, her feet wide apart as she leaned forward. It wasn’t long before Kaede heard the door to the bathroom open up once again, calm footsteps following.

“Wow, didn’t know that the globetrotter would actually show up. What a surprise!” Miu challenged, moving towards who it was. Soft green hair was prevalent in the mirror, along with a blue striped shirt that went to about the elbows. The creaking of the bathroom doors had Kaede gulp as quietly as she could muster.

“I don’t suppose you checked the perimeter, as my father would say.” The voice was slightly gruff and low, surprising Kaede. In the girls’ bathroom? Really? “Time to talk about the problem between us, yeah?” The male turned away at the last stall. He moved up to where Miu was still gripping the sink like a lifeline and leaned over, peering at her coldly.

“Get fucked, I got nothing for you, you damn jiggalo!”

“Really? I could’ve sworn that you had money for me.” the voice pried a bit more, the guy leaning closer.

“I-I don’t have shit like that, you’re thinking of my family, dumbass!”

“Aw, is the poor little rich kid going to cry? I know quite well how you work, selling the shady crap you do to the vortex club. I wonder what it’d be like if I went to your oh-so respectable family and told them about how their prized daughter was-”

“Leave them out of this, dick!” Miu spat.

“Oh, that hurt, huh? Then imagine when I tell your prized Vortex Club that you were in here whining and throwing a fit like a pig in heat.” The guy seemed to have more to say, but he was cut off at the sight of a sleek revolver that Miu had pulled out of nowhere. Pushing the guy up to the wall, he seemed helpless as he looked down at her with worried green eyes. He slowly lifted his hands to show he wouldn’t harm her, only to have the gun jammed into his gut.

“You messed with the wrong gorgeous girl genius, pencil-dick!” She hissed, poison lacing her voice.

“Where did you… why did you bring a gun to school? Look, I don’t think you get it, I don’t want to ha-” The man was cut off by a hand to the throat, his breath hitching.

“Don’t ever fuck with me, jackass! I’m absolutely FUCK-ALL pissed that people think they can control me!”

“You’re gonna ge-t in more trouble f… for this than dumb drugs-” The man strained, a hand wavering away from its position to get her hand off his neck.

“No one would even MISS your punk ass, would they, Guac?”

“Put the fucking gun down, psycho!” Rantaro ripped her hand off, and was about to kick her off when she let the trigger go. A loud bang rang throughout the bathroom, and Kaede watched as his body slowly fell to the ground, the life draining from his eyes. She stepped out from behind the stalls, reaching out to him.

“NO!!” Kaede screeched, seeing Miu’s head slowly snap to her. She didn’t get a chance to before everything started reversing so quickly, and all of a sudden-

Kaede lifted her head from the desk, her eyes quickly darting around the room. She was back in Miss Koizumi’s classroom.

“… Shh, keep that to yourself. Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner-” Kaede didn’t need to hear anymore to realize this was the same lecture from before. Looking at Shuichi who looked as though he was being hassled again she bit her lip and turned to Kokichi. He was playing with some Tamagatchi that was making an absurd amount of noise. A particular beep caught her off guard, and her camera fell to the ground, shattering. Kaede cursed to herself, but decided she should test something out.

 Wanting to see if what happened was just a dream, she looked at her right hand curiously before extending it out. Slowly, the words Miss Koizumi had said earlier reversed, and the beeps of Kokichi’s device were playing back. The camera eventually pieced back together and found its way back onto her desk. When she pulled her arm back, it was as though nothing had happened. Shuichi was being messed with once again, and Kokichi was playing with the little device. Kaede reached a shaky hand out to her camera, needing to do the final test to see if whatever she had was real.

The click of her camera and the shushing of Miss Koizumi came back, causing a chill to run down Kaede’s back. She started to panic, wondering if she could stop the poor guy from dying in the bathroom. All she had to do was answer Miss Koizumi’s question right, and wait for a few more seconds, and things would be okay. She took a deep breath, waiting for the actual question to come up.

“…  and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that-”

“The Daguerreian Process,” Kaede said quickly, not letting the teacher finish her statement. She looked just as shocked as Kaede did at her outburst, and Kokichi snickered.

Well, um, that’s right. Good job, Kaede. The Daguerreian Process made portraiture hugely popular, mainly because it gave the subjects clear defined features. You can learn more when you actually finish reading the assigned chapters. Kaede is so far, way ahead of everybody.” Miss Koizumi looked a little relieved that someone had been paying attention to her lectures and reading along with them.

The bell rang, and Kaede quickly made sure Shuichi knew that tea was on the table before darting out of the class, ignoring Miss Koizumi’s calls. She shoved some people, apologizing as she did so. She opened up the door to the girls bathroom dramatically, remembering that Miu didn’t show up until she took the picture of that butterfly. To prep for it, Kaede quickly went over to where the fire alarm was, breaking the glass. She returned to the sink where she splashed water on her face. 

Tearing the picture she had originally took seemed to cause the butterfly fluttering in, landing on the bucket. She hesitantly walked up, snapping the picture. Just as it had happened before, Miu came in, clutching the sink. The guy came in. They bickered, and Kaede got anxious listening to it all over again. Miu unveiled the gun once again, pinning the guy to the wall while choking him.

“No one would even MISS your punk ass, would they, Guac?”

Kaede couldn’t let time happen the way it did before. With her hand that wasn’t shaking quite as much, she hit the fire alarm as hard as possible. It rang out through the building, making Miu lose her grip on the guy. Thinking quickly, he kneed her, causing her to sputter and clutch her stomach.

“Don’t you ever touch me again!” the guy barked before booking it out of the bathroom. Miu quickly looked at the ground as she was wincing, her eyes lingering on something on the tiles. Her eyes went dark as she hid the gun, scrambling to the door herself.

“Another fuckin’ shitty day,” She mumbled, closing the door behind her. Kaede was left in the bathroom, facing the crazy reality that was confronting her at that very moment. She knew she shouldn’t be staying in because that would look suspicious, but she couldn’t help it.

I just saved someone’s life.

[crispinos]

pairing: keith/lance rating: T word count: 1.7k summary: lance is a fortune-teller. keith really needs to study.

this @voltron-ss gift is for @trash4bechloe. i had actually planned a proper fic incorporating more of the tropes you gave me, but i am an awful, awful procrastinator and ended up writing something short but hopefully sweet because i wanted you to receive something on time. stay tuned for your real gift in the future, but i hope you enjoy this in the meantime!

There is a bounce house in the middle of the green. It’s red, yellow, blue, and inflatable, straight out of the fair that used to come to town every year and draw suburban upper-middle class kids like moths to a flame with their SUV-driving soccer moms in tow. In fact, now that Keith tears his eyes away from the primary-color beast dominating his view, it appears that the whole quad has been decked out like the fair just came to this school; there’s a line for fried dough that wraps around what has to be at least half the perimeter.

Well, Keith doesn’t know what’s going on and he doesn’t particularly care to find out, so he just puts his head down and tries to push through the crowd. For all that it’s a sunny Sunday afternoon, he has the test of his life coming up tomorrow, and he needs to shut himself into the top floor of the library for at least the next twelve hours if he wants to stand a chance at passing.

It’s slow going. No one gives a fuck about Keith’s issues and no one has any clue how badly screwed he is for this test, which is totally understandable but still infuriating when he tries to cut through the line for cotton candy, accidentally elbows a girl in the nose, and receives a death glare for his efforts.

“Sorry,” he says, or tries to say, “I’m just trying to get through—need to study for a big test—” but another group of people closes around the girl before he can finish explaining himself, and everything is just so loud that his voice is drowned out by the noise, leaving him mouthing at the air like an idiot. Which, granted, he supposes he must be, if he’s trying to cram all the review he should’ve been doing for the past two weeks into the last sixteen or so hours before the exam.

Farther away from the food, the crowd thins out slightly. The other end of the quad is blessedly calm compared to the clusterfuck that Keith’s just managed to survive. Scattered around the perimeter are game booths offering raffle tickets for prizes—apple-bobbing here, a ring toss there—and Keith is just about to make his escape when a heavy hand lands on his arm. It catches him off guard, and he flinches away.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” says the boy on the other end of the hand, hastily letting his arm fall back down to his side. Puffing himself up, he clears his throat and continues, in a reluctant attempt at a theatrically deep voice, “Um. How would you like to have your fortune told by the one, the only… Lance the Clairvoyant?”

Keith blinks. “Uh, no thanks.”

The boy—Hunk, his name tag reads—deflates. “I told you it wouldn’t work,” he calls over his shoulder, and Keith follows his gaze to the purple tent behind him. Its curtains are drawn too close for him to make out anything inside, but propped up against it is a sign that proclaims in Sharpied letters, LANCE THE CLAIRVOYANT: HE SEES ALL… HE KNOWS ALL.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t do a convincing voice,” someone yells back from inside the tent. The voice is vaguely familiar, but Keith can’t place his finger on where he knows it from. “Just do what you gotta do to get them in here.”

Hunk turns back to Keith with big, pleading eyes. “Please let him tell your fortune,” he says.

“I have a test,” Keith begins weakly. Hunk’s eyes are so, so round.

“We’ve only had three clients,” he says.

“Big test,” Keith tries.

“We’ve been out here for five hours,” Hunk says. “He was really excited about doing this booth.”

“Twenty percent of my grade,” Keith elaborates, a little desperately.

“Three minutes,” Hunk promises. “Just tell him to make it quick. Three minutes is all it takes.”

“Three minutes, and three minutes only,” Keith says. “Wait, what?”

Hunk’s face lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree, and Keith is suddenly inside the tent.

“Have a seat,” someone says. It’s the same voice from before, only now it’s gone all spooky, like they’re trying their hardest to sound mysterious. As Keith’s eyes adjust to the dimness, he sees the outline of a folding chair a few paces away from where he’s standing, and he complies.

The boy behind the table is wearing a hooded cloak, but there’s a crystal ball on the table, the only source of light inside the tent. It scatters eerie shadows across his face, but it’s glowing brightly enough for Keith to discern his features. It’s also glowing brightly enough for Keith to catch the way Lance the Clairvoyant’s eyes widen ever so slightly when their gazes meet.

“What would you like to know, O Curious One?” Lance asks, expression falling neutral. “My crystal ball will show me all.”

“The answers to Iverson’s test would be nice,” Keith says. “Aerodynamics?”

“No, I mean about yourself,” Lance says in his normal voice, before realizing his slip-up. “My crystal ball will only show me what lies in the futures of my clients.”

“Okay,” says Keith. “How will I do on my test tomorrow?”

Lance closes his eyes and waves his hands over the ball, brow furrowed in concentration. Keith briefly considers leaving while he can get away with it. Then he feels like a jackass and decides not to do that.

“I see,” Lance says dramatically, “a… fall. A fail?” Keith’s heart plummets into his stomach, and he swears he feels his digestive juices splash. “No, not a fail. Just a fall. A fall… from grace.”

“What does that mean?”

“The top of the class,” Lance says. More vague hand-waving. “Someone will take your place. Someone… a rival. Your biggest rival.”

“What?”

“Does no one come to mind?”

“No,” Keith says. “I don’t have any ‘rivals.’” He really doesn’t have any idea what Lance is talking about. He minds his own business, works hard in class, gets good grades. He doesn’t go out of his way to step on other people’s toes. There’s no room for competition because he barely knows who his classmates are.

“Ah-ah,” Lance tuts. “Arrogance is never a good trait to have.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Your hubris will be your downfall,” Lance proclaims. His eyes are still closed, what the fuck, that’s not how crystal balls are supposed to work. There is definitely the ghost of a smug smile playing on his lips.

“You’re full of shit,” Keith decides.

“I assure you that I am not.”

“No person in their right mind would actually believe a prediction from a college kid who just got dressed up in a hood for some fair. You’re bullshitting.”

Lance ignores him. “You may be more gratified to hear that love is coming your way,” he says, moving his hands around some more. “Sometime within the next week. Perhaps… perhaps even tomorrow.”

Keith scoffs. “Now you’re just messing with me.”

“All will become clear in time.” Lance opens his eyes. “Is there anything else you would like me to reveal?”

“No,” Keith says. Belatedly, he adds, “But thanks, I guess.”

Hunk smiles at him on the way out. Keith can’t bring himself to smile back in good conscience.

-

The test is shit. It’s a steaming pile of horseshit, and Keith handles it as such as he passes it in, dropping it on top of the pile with the biggest shudder that his soulless husk of a sleep-deprived body can muster.

When he turns to go back to his seat, it’s to collide nearly head-on with the person behind him.

Not just a person. A boy.

Not just a boy. Lance the Clairvoyant.

What the fuck, Keith tries to say with his eyes.

Fuck you too, Lance says back. Or, well, he wiggles his eyebrows and kind of smirks a bit, and Keith has no idea how to interpret it but figures that fuck you too is a safe bet.

He’d done a pretty good job of pushing the fortune-telling incident to the back of his mind yesterday in order to effectively cram, but it’s all coming back now. The fall from grace, the love coming his way, whatever the fuck those things are supposed to mean. Keith frowns on the way back to his seat but resolves to forget about it again by the time he’s on his way out of the lecture hall.

He’s maybe five steps away from the door when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“Hi,” says Lance. “Keith, right?” He looks slightly nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and only Keith’s curiosity keeps him from walking away. That, and the fact that Lance’s face is actually not half-bad without the fake psychic outfit and weird psychic voice.

Keith crosses his arms. “Is this the part where you tell me you totally predicted that I would fail?”

“I didn’t necessarily say you’d fail,” Lance says indignantly. “I bet you did better than everyone else, just like you always do. And this was actually supposed to be about the other part of your fortune.”

“Ah. The part where you told me that love was coming my way.”

“Yeah. Do you want to get dinner sometime?”

“Excuse me?”

Lance may possibly be blushing. “I said, do you want to get dinner sometime? Maybe? If you don’t completely hate my guts?”

“I don’t hate you,” Keith says, bewildered. “I’m just confused. You insulted me yesterday and now you want dinner.”

“I didn’t insult you,” Lance insists. “I’m a legitimate clairvoyant. I only tell the truth about people’s futures.”

“You were planning to ask me out all along,” Keith realizes.

Lance is definitely blushing. “Look, is it a yes or a no? ’Cause if Mr. Prodigy thinks he’s above me, I won’t waste my time—”

“Sure.”

Now it’s Lance’s turn to be taken aback. “Excuse me?”

Keith does his best to hide his amusement, but it sneaks through his smile anyway. “I said, sure.”

“Holy shit,” Lance says. He looks genuinely flabbergasted, and it’s cute. “Really?”

Keith shrugs. “Yeah. But only because you saw it in my future.”

“I guess it was inevitable,” Lance concedes.

“You free tonight? We can celebrate the fact that we survived another Iverson test.”

Lance’s grin is slow and blinding. “Oh, you bet I am.”

[literatelogan]

the binding of two forces | a love that never lost momentum

{4: a failed effort to change} wattpad | ao3

kobayashi kei is a teacher at U.A. who has an established relationship with aizawa shouta. kei and shouta have known each other ever since they started at UA together. their friendship had always been strong but this is the story of how they came to be as a couple and what the future holds.

a/n - !manga spoilers! slightly divergent of the main plot but it will be caught up to the current season of the anime after the time skip. she is the homeroom teacher for 1B but don't worry we still stan vlad in this house so he's now 2B. bit of a promotion for the trouble. her quirk is fatigue manipulation. she has the ability to manipulate the fatigue of oneself or others, both mental and physical. she can increase, decrease, cause or prevent fatigue. in order to increase someone's fatigue, she needs to either leech from another person or herself. her fatigue is only affected if she is using a lot of energy either giving or transferring. if she takes energy from someone else, she will gain it. she cannot rest or sleep until she gets all of her energy out either by wearing herself out mentally or physically. she cannot kill someone easily but she can make some lose consciousness.

In an effort to focus on their education and progress as heroes, Kei and Shouta both decided they should try and spend a bit less time with each other. They didn't actually say anything to each other but they both kind of knew why the other wasn't hanging out with them as much anymore. Kayama's daily calls with Kei turned into sessions for advice on how to better herself from an upperclassman with the occasional anecdote about Mr. Dreamy. When the four friends, sat together at lunch or during class, Shouta and Kei were always the farthest apart from each other and they did their bests to focus on anything but each other. Every once in a while, Shouta would laugh a little or smile wider at something stupid the other boys did and Kei couldn't help but look over at him. Stolen glances, the awkward smile, a touch of his arm as she laughed or her back as he passed by. It was torturous but they were both doing even better in classes. The hardest part was constantly being put against each other in practices. They both worked best under the radar instead of close combat. Though, each could still hold their own when it came to that. Internships came soon enough and Kei went off to Osaka to train with a Pro Hero who specialized in non quirk related combat. She needed to learn to stand her own. Her friends wouldn't be by her side forever. Little did she know how fast she would lose one of them.

  When they all came back from internships, the prep for Finals was immediate andoverwhelming. Kei didn't have the chance to think about anything but her studies. She knew that to be a great hero, she would need to work with a great agency. If you barely pass, no matter the strength of your quirk, no one is going to want to have you join them. To show her discipline she pulled ahead of many of her classmates and ended up being 8th in her class. Summer break had been well earned and while she was thankful to get the rests, she felt like she hadn't really socialized with anyone in months. There were a couple outings with Kayama. They went shopping, had tea, had lunch. The shopping part was Kei's favorite. She wasn't very fashion inclined. It had never been something she had focused on but Kayama wanted to teach her how to do her makeup, accessorize and basically come as close to breaking dress code as she could. When Kayama started trying to hem Kei's skirts to be even shorter, she had to finally draw the line but she let her hem them just a couple centimeters. Kei had seen her costume and knew what would happen to her if she didn't set boundaries with Kayama.

  {aizawa pov}

If you asked Aizawa if he missed school, he would have said no. Technically it would be true. He didn't miss his classes but he did miss his friends. Coming back from summer break, there were some changes around the school but not many. Until he saw Kobayashi. Something had changed but he couldn't quite place it. She looked even prettier than before but it had been so long since he had been allowed to get a good look at her. She walked into Homeroom like nothing was different. Her personality was the same old Kobayashi. "Ask how her summer was. Ask how she is. Say something to her." Before Aizawa could get up the guts to actually speak to her, Shirakumo bounded in and smiled his huge smile over at Kei. "Did you cut your hair, Kei?" She laughed and shook her head. That's when Yamada chimed in, "Nah. You're wearing makeup, aren't you?" She shook her head a little again. "No more than normal." They started muttering between themselves when one of the other boys in the class, Nishimoto, interrupted. "Her skirt is shorter, idiots." Aizawa choked on air and played it off enough that Kobayashi didn't notice even if Shirakumo did. "Don't stare. Don't stare. Just a little peek." He glanced over at her skirt and instantly regretted it. "Why is it so short? If she bent over it would totally- shut up. Shut up. Shut up." Aizawa blinked and realized he had spaced out of the rest of the conversation as Yamada teased her for the short skirt. "It wasn't me! My friend Kayama would have me in a uniform bikini if she could." Aizawa felt his cheeks turn red and stared at his papers on his desk so hard he might actually be able to set them on fire. "Don't picture that. Don't picture that. Think about anything except for that." He definitely couldn't talk to her now.

  {back to kei's pov}

The boys were being stupid about the skirts and Kei made a mental note to ask Kayama to undo the hems, which she later refused to do. Shouta didn't notice though. The only person she actually would have wanted to notice. "I guess he doesn't care anymore. He probably thinks I'm a tramp. He won't even look at me. He's just staring at his desk." School continued with only slight interaction between the two of them. Now that Kei thought he wasn't attracted to her, she felt like talking to him was okay but she didn't want to bother him. Anytime she was caught staring, Yamada would nudge her and give her the look. She couldn't help it. He was just so cute. But if he had no interest in her other than a friend, she could do that. She valued their friendship. She started to talk to Shouta more and more as the term ended. During the winter break, they would text every once in a while. A lot of cat pictures were sent between the two even though neither of them actually had one. Any time either of them saw a cat, the other was sent a picture.

  {aizawa pov}

Surviving the rest of the term with Kobayashi had been a little troubling for Aizawa. Shirakumo caught him gawking at her almost every day and would slap him on the back of the head to snap out of it. "It's not my fault that I'm a teenager." He mumbled to Shirakumo as an excuse for his blatant lewdness. His perversion was all his own fault though. "I'm an awful person. She's my friend. Shirakumo and Yamada should just blind me." Any time it looked like she was going to bend over, he averted his gaze as fast as possible. If he even saw half an inch more leg than usual, he would need to go jump off the roof. Knowing that he couldn't talk to her like this even more than before, he was planning on altogether avoiding her which lasted for a little while. When she started initiating conversations more, his resolve quickly faltered. It was like before. Before he had messed everything up. This time it was even more comfortable. When they started talking even more over the summer, he knew his feelings for her were too real. He was falling for a girl who wasn't even interested in him. She was just trying to be a good friend and he was going to ruin it again. 

[witch-y-princess]

A Classic In Modern Times

Chapter 1

It's Sept. 26th, there was a soft breeze coming through the window. A girl wakes up due to the chilly autumn air filling her room. She checks her clock, it reads 2:48 am, she looks around her room to find her window is open. The girl is confused for a moment then begins to panic and frantically tries to turn the lights on. As she is making her way to the light switch, she's tackled to the ground and is getting gagged by some sort of cloth. She tries to fight whoever is on her back, but as she does she feels her back getting warmer and warmer. Her clothes are getting soaked in something liquidy and warm. Before she realizes what's happening, with a crack her vision goes dark and she begins to feel very cold. Then there was nothing.

The sound of silence was only broken by the noise of crunching and tearing. The girl's younger brother has now awakened to go to the bathroom and on his way, he hears the strange sounds. Still a bit groggy from just having woken up he dismisses them. He finishes his business and goes back to bed. Although he tries to go to sleep, he still hears the unusual noises through the wall. Growing more and more curious, he gets back out of bed.

The cold air is starting to fill the rest of the house as he walks down the hall to his sister's room. Making sure to make as little noise as possible due to his growing anxiety, he carefully places each foot softly on the cold hardwood floors. He finally reaches the door and begins to slowly open it. The sound stops as the door opens ever so slightly. It's too dark to see anything so the boy turns the lights on. The sound of a blood-curdling scream sent throughout the house is broke the silence of the night aside from the wind blowing in through the window. What the boy sees is the sight of his sister brutally torn to shreds. Her head has been torn off with a half eaten face left on it, showing the bloody skeleton and muscle tissue underneath what used to be his sister's face. Her spine has been partially torn out of her back with a few vertebrates scattered about, the rest is held together by a few muscles as it rests in a pool of crimson blood. Her arms are missing from the biceps down and the skin is torn much less cleanly than the neck's. The stench of all the guts plus the unholy amount of blood pooled up or splattered about makes the kid vomit on sight. He didn't even have time to react to whatever else was in the room that was hunched over his sister gnawing at one of her arms. All he saw were the silvery-white pupils surrounded by a blacked out eyeball. The next thing the boy feels is a hand wrapping around his throat beginning to crush his windpipe. He tries his best to let out any resemblance of a noise but the being won't let him. Then he falls to the ground, but he notices his body didn't fall as well. It's still in the hands of who, or whatever the being is. His vision goes dark as he hears the panicked footsteps of his parents racing up the stairwell.

~•~

A few hours later a girl wakes up to the sound of her alarm clock. It's now 7:30 am and she'll be late for school if she doesn't hurry up and get ready. She throws her silvery-grey hair with black strands up in a bun as she's running to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She then makes sure she's got her necklace on while sliding a red gemstone ring on her right hand, a blank silver ring band on her left hand, as well as another gemstone ring, this one being blue. The necklace is a pendant of a crescent moon, in the crescent, there's a diamond shape and a circle with a dot in the middle of it hanging around her neck from a twine cord. She then throws on the nearest pair of black skinny jeans, her cleanest bra, an oversized death metal band t-shirt, and a pair of black converse as she runs out the front door with her pack in hand and purse flying behind her. The sun is out and is shining bright already. She runs down the flight of stairs, hurrying to the parking lot, and jumps in her car, a white 2018 Chevrolet Impala with tinted black windows. She hurries her was to her morning class, on the way she's listening to the local news.

"Mr. & Mrs. Langsworth, along with their two kids, Jacob and Lendsie were found dead this morning when a neighbor's kid who walks to school every morning with Lendsie found bloody footprints on the sidewalk outside the house. They told their parents who called the police, who so far only have said that it seems to have only been one attacker. There were no signs of robbery as nothing was taken. They also haven't been able to find any prints or evidence to get a lead on who it might have been."

As the girl pulls up to her uni's science building and frantically tries to find a parking space at 8:10 am she realizes she doesn't have class till 10 am. She parks anyways and heads towards the library. On her way she runs into a classmate, his name is Logan. His hazel eyes meet her silvery-white eyes for a moment. He's a little bit taller than her, standing in at about 5'8", an athletic build due to his years running in track, compared to her more average build and standing at about 5'5". He's got light brown hair that looks like he just woke up. His face has a few freckles speckled all about. The loose-fitting single colored dark blue t-shirt has a little bit of syrup on it.

"Good morning Lilith, how are you today?" He says with a cheerful smile.

"Still kinda tired, didn't get much sleep last night. What about you?"

"I'm doing quite alright. Seems like we were both in a bit of a rush this morning huh?"

"Haha, yea I guess so. Did ya forget class was at 10 am as well?"

He scratches the back of his head with a nervous chuckle, "Yea I did, but I was thinking about going to the library to get a bit of extra time for the homework we had."

"Oh shit!!! WE HAD AN ASSIGNMENT?!?!" Lilith shoutedly asks.

"Uh, yea. It was given to us two days ago. Have you started on it yet?"

"No, not at all.." she mutters.

"Well, I can help you if you'd like."

"Really?! That'd be awesome!!! Thank you so much!"

The two head off towards the library together. Logan talks about how he's excited for the next track competition in a couple of weeks, and how he hopes she's going to be there to cheer him on as usual.

They reach the library and he starts helping her find books about advanced physics. They start working on the assignment together and with Logan's help she's able to get enough done by 9:50 am for a passing grade.

As they walk to their class, a girl who is in a hurry trips over a curb and drops all her books and papers. Lilith rushes over and helps her up and gathers up the papers flying around and the books scattered about the ground.

"Thank you! My name is Emily and it's nice to meet you."

"Don't mention it. My name is Lilith, nice to meet you as well," she says, giving the girl a smile as she and Logan walk towards class again.

"You know we'll be late now right?"

"Ehhh, who cares, if class was at 8 am we'd have been late anyway. Besides, who's a couple minutes gonna hurt?"

"Haha, yea, fair enough I guess."

~•~

It's finally the end of the school day and Lilith is on her way home she passes by the park and looks at the autumn leaves' colors in awe. She pulls into her apartment complex's gated parking lot which is packed as usual with many cars.

"Alright, I got a couple of hours till I gotta go into work, let's see how many episodes of anime I can watch in that time." She thinks to herself as she's unlocking her front door and stepping inside her apartment.

Inside there's her living room with a flat-screen tv sitting atop a dark brown tv stand filled with movies and games, in front of a dark brown wooden coffee table with a circular glass center. A black 2-piece couch with a lot of anime plushies on top of it. Next to that, she's got a bookshelf full of figurines in all sorts of different sizes and poses. To the right of that, there's another big bookcase full of light novels, manga and normal books as well; there's even an entire shelf dedicated to her knife collection. She has easily two dozen different knives, all different styles. The walls are covered in many posters and artworks, as well as many swords hung up, so much so you can barely even see the creamy white-painted wall behind it all.

She sets her pack and purse next to the front door and walks to her kitchen, which is separated from the living room by a granite topped island. She grabs a can of soda from her fridge. She notices that she still has to do the dishes but shrugs it off thinking "oh I'll do 'em later," before she slouches down into her couch and turns on her tv. She calls over Midnight, her hell-hound familiar, he's a big black dog that's roughly twice the size of a German shepherd. His pitch black fur is silky soft, and he too has silvery white eyes after becoming Lilith's familiar. He jumps up into her lap and they snuggle as they watch tv together. She pulls out her phone and texts her partner, Miyabe

~•~

Before she realizes it its time to go in for work. She gets dressed and heads out, it's now about 7:30 pm as she drives. She arrives at work and as usual her the gm Linda greets her with a kind smile.

"How are you doing tonight Lilith?" She asks and Lilith puts her number in the computer to clock in for her shift.

"I'm doin a'ight I guess, school was a bit stressful today but it worked out."

"Well, that's good to hear it went okay, ready to have a relaxing night?"

"Totally, I love the graveyard shift." Responding with a slight chuckle.

The night goes pretty uneventful as usual, getting the normal 30 or so customers throughout her usual 8pm-4am shift at a local 24hr café/tea bar.

As she is getting ready to leave though there is a fight going on between a group of guys in the ally in between her café and the bar next to it. She at first doesn't want to intervene but then one of the guys hollers at her, which in turn gets the other guys to notice her. Some are still fighting but the most have stopped and are starting to walk towards her.

"Hey sweet thang, whatcha doin out here this late at night? Huh?"

They all look at each other and snicker before rushing at her. A few of them seem like regular drunkards with a beer belly to show for it, and a few of them are relatively well built.

As one gets close to her, she punches him straight in the jaw, breaking it and knocking out a few teeth in the process, knocking him down and out. The others hesitate for a second but then charge at her again. She runs to a different alleyway a couple of buildings down and gets cornered, but turns around to face them with a smile on her face. As the roughly 7 guys run after her into the ally they get frozen in place out of pure terror when they see her face; which now has been morphed to look something inhumane. With what to them feels like her silvery-white eyes are piercing their souls, they can't help but stand there utterly frozen.

She begins to punch, kick, and claw her way through them, leaving them with broken arms, legs, skulls, ribs, knocked out teeth, and gashes in their bodies so deep you could see bone. Just by looks, you'd think they got run over by a speeding semi or train.

She then calmly walks back to her car and drives home.

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