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#we were drawing a lady with a sword at figure drawing this weekend and i took it as a sign
ravangie · 21 days
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With your affinity for sword lesbians, I think you'd love Cassandra from the Tangled series.
Hahah ~sword lesbians~, my beloved😍🥰
I actually remember the time when this show was just coming out and a decent amount of people have compared me to Cassandra! I saw a couple of episodes, but remember absolutely nothing
Since then i let my curls grow out and a lot has changed, you might be right, maybe it's to come back to this show👀
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magicman111 · 3 years
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A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two
One month later
Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.
Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?
How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.
Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.
Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.
Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.
Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.
Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.
Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.
Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.
Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.
Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.
Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.
Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?
More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.
She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.
What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.
... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.
Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.
Everyone would get what they want.
Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.
Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.
They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.
Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.
She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.
Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.
‘I’m done listening to you!
I’m done trusting you!’
Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.
Bingo.
‘You’re a horrible person!’
Ignore. Ignore.
Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—
‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’
She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.
She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.
Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.
What am I even doing anymore?
The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.
The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.
“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”
Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.
“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”
It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.
She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.
“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”
“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”
Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”
“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.
For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.
“Huh.”
Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.
“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”
Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.
“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”
“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”
It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.
Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?
Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.
Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.
When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?
What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.
Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.
A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.
“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”
Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.
Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.
Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.
“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”
Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?
A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.
Dead silence fell over the room.
Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.
“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.
The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.
It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.
Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.
Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.
“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”
Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”
Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.
She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.
But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.
Weren’t they?
Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!
Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.
“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”
Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”
Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.
“What is iooooh boy!”
This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.
Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.
These great beings of magic and might
Travelled from beyond to serve the night
Bow before these children of man
Or know the wrath of the—
“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”
There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.
It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.
Why that conniving, devious little—
That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.
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lapis-arts · 3 years
Text
The Knife of Amphibia
Chapter 2: Prison Escape
Summary: Months had passed since Anne's arrest. After putting up with mistreatment and retaining her innocence, she finally thinks about breaking out of prison... Little did she know, someone is willing to help her out.
Fandom: Amphibia
Features: Assassin AU, Aged Up Anne and Plantars
Warnings: Violence, blood, interrogation
Word Count: 1,807 Words
--
Anne woke up in her dingy cell that morning. Her body had ached all over from sleeping in the prison’s horrible conditions for the last few months.
Lady Olivia was nowhere to be found to hear her out, having to replace the king's duty to restore order in the city, lest it burned down completely. She had told General Yunan what happened word for word since day one, but it all fell upon deaf ears. All Yunan wanted was for Anne to confess to the murder and she might get life in prison. She wasn't going to, though. She knew what happened, her story stayed consistent throughout the months, so she stood her ground and retained her innocence.
It had felt like today was the final day of her life as guards came to her cell and dragged her to the torture chambers once more, strapped down into the chair for the torturer to do as Yunan ordered. The tall and hulking toad burned Anne repeatedly with a red-hot iron rod, the human crying out in pain, the general trying once again to force a confession. A few burns later, Yunan finally stepped in.
"Ok, ok, that's enough!" She said, motioning for the torturer to leave them alone. Anne growled as the woman got closer and spat in her direction.
"I already told you everything that happened... Why won't you listen to me!?" She hissed. Yunan just gave her a grin as she walked up to Anne and placed a hand on her chin to make her look up at her. "Oh, you foolish human.. It was part of the plan all along." Yunan said, about to reveal her hand to Anne.
"Wh-what?... What are you talking about?" Anne asked, clearly confused by what Yunan was telling her.
"Andrias was bound to be murdered before you and Marcy arrived earlier than noticed.. You just showed up at the wrong place at the right time. Now, I get to hit three flies with one stone." She chuckled, Anne staring wide eyed at the general in disbelief.
"You're insane..." Anne said, her brows furrowed in anger as she tried to struggle through the straps, the thick leather leaving rope burns on her skin the more she struggled to break free to beat up Yunan senseless.
"It's far too late to put up a fight, Anne. The whole kingdom believes you killed Andrias in cold blood and poor Olivia has no time to listen to your pleas. I'm in charge of your fate now.." Yunan smirked, grabbing the iron rod the torturer left in the burning fire, poking at Anne with it to get an official fake confession for the last time.
"Don't make this harder than it already is.." she threatened, burning Anne every time she refused to agree to the confession, the human stifling her cries of pain the best she could, not giving Yunan the satisfaction of hearing her pains.
After enough torment, Yunan knew the human wasn't going to give in. By that account, refusing to admit to the murder, Yunan had sentenced Anne to death by guillotine.
Anne was to be thrown back in her cell and await execution for the next few days, her body completely sore and covered in fresh and painful burns. She can't take on this abuse anymore. Anne had to get the hell out of there. She was clearly innocent based on the evidence, but a conspiracy damned it all...
Something didn't add up.. Why would Yunan kill off Andrias? Did she have something to do with the plague, or does she just want to rule Amphibia for all the glory and power? No matter what the newt's motives were, Anne needed to get out or her head will be rolling from the chopping block this weekend no matter what. For now, all she wanted to do was rest and slumped into a corner of her cell to sleep the afternoon away.
---
Later that evening, Anne woke up from the sound of a guard rattling the bars of her cell, signifying that it's dinner time already.
"You should eat up, Anne. This meal is from a friend." Is all the guard said, leaving rather quickly. A friend, was it? The human made her way over to the food tray, seeing a bowl of soup as usual, but it was actually warm and fresh this time. As she pulled the bowl away, she noticed a folded piece of paper in tact. She nearly tossed meal aside and quickly opened it, a small key falling out on her lap, yet revealed a handwritten note directed to her, and she couldn't be more relieved to recognize it was Lady Olivia's handwriting in particular.
"Hello Anne. I apologize for my absence, but I know for a fact you are innocent. I've pestered Yunan to extend your trial, but she's too over her head for reasoning and I have no time on my hands to continue doing so. Take this key, escape your cell and take refuge into the sewers."
Anne wasted no time at that point. She looked out the bars of her cell to check for no guards doing rounds, and slipped the key into the cell lock and got out. To her convenience, it seems like the guard who gave her the note left a sword on top of one of their tables, Anne gladly took it and fled the area. The human stuck close to the walls, peeking over the corners to make sure no guards were in sight. In some parts of the prison, Anne had to stick to the pipes and vents near the ceiling to avoid the guards scattered across a room. Never had she been more grateful to endure Marcy's stealth training, as it came quite in handy until she reached the exit point.
Just outside of the entrance gate was the river that surrounded the prison. If she could find a way out, she could easily dive and swim to the sewer entrance on the other side. Unfortunately, in order to do that, she had to get through the guards. Anne evaded the guards doing rounds, sticking to the shadows and hiding behind storage containers. She managed to slip through a broken window the entry office hadn't fixed yet, seeing a newt guard yawning while he was writing something down. Anne couldn't take any chances and neutralized him, putting him in a chokehold until he passed out.
"Sorry.." she muttered under her breath, quickly traversing to the next room, taking down whoever was there. Next to the window was a control panel, a lever off to the side labeled "Gate."
Bingo, her one way ticket out of here.
She quickly pulled the lever and waited for the gate to open, slipping out through the back door. All the guards turned their attention towards the gate, puzzled as to why it was opening. Once the moment was right, Anne sprinted as fast as she could towards the exit, shoving guards aside as they got in her way.
"Sound the alarm!!" A guard yelled, a couple of officers running towards the nearest alarm, hastily ringing the series of bells.
"Shit!" Anne growled as she heard the alarms ring out, pushing herself even faster towards the ledge. Near the edge of barbed wire fence were the watch towers by the lifted bridge, the prison guards hearing the alarms and spotted Anne down below. The guards grabbed their crossbows and shot at her, Anne pulled out her sword in response, slashing a few bolts out of the way, save for one that nicked her right on the shoulder, drawing blood. Anne hissed from the sharp pain, but ignored it once she reached the ledge, and finally jumped off.
She dove down a few yards into the water, quickly swimming away. She made her way to the sewer gates just across, swiftly opening and shutting them close as she entered, finding a loose pipe and shoved the metal in between the handles of the gate, making sure no one would enter for a good moment.
Once the adrenaline rush ended, Anne took off deeper into the sewers and stopped as she was met with a locked gate. She took a step back to rest for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing on, processing that she actually broke out of prison.
"Oh my fucking frog.. I actually made it out.." she panted, sliding down the wall onto the floor to take a breather. After regaining herself, Anne turned to the locked gate again, trying to figure out a way around it. Off to the side of the wall, was another handwritten note, seemingly from Olivia again.
"Anne, if you made it, then congratulations! Beyond the sewers should be your exit, and familiar friendly faces should see to you after you leave through the storm drain. Good Luck"
Anne looked up the gate and saw a little crawl space, climbing up and crawled through to get to the other side. She soon heard footsteps and officer commands echo through the sewers, knowing it was the Royal Guard trying to find her. The human stuck towards hiding again, trying to avoid much conflict as she could this time around. Anne even had to endure swimming through the sewer water under bridges just avoid detection, thankfully leaving unscathed.
--
After exiting the sewers out of a storm drain, Anne finally reached above ground where she saw a familiar looking family wagon, seeing three young looking frogs keeping watch. It wasn't until she saw that unmistakable aviator hat on one of the pink frogs that she realized who it was.
The said frog with the hat turned towards the drain to see the human climbing out of it, his eyes widened in disbelief as he realized who it was and quickly hopped over to her.
"Anne! You're ok!" He said, jumping into Anne's arms and hugged her.
"Sprig! Hey buddy!" She hugged him back, embracing the moment for a bit before she placed him down as the other frogs came to see her. "Hey Polly, hey Ivy. Damn, it's been a long time." Anne said. While the sentiment was nice, they all understood they didn't have time to waste.
"We gotta get you to Wartwood! It wasn't easy for us to get past the barricade." Ivy explained, Polly brushing off the situation. "Oh please! Those guys are nothing. We can take them on if they're trouble." That statement hinting the young frogs certainly weren't going down without a fight.i
After that, the frogs quickly got Anne into the fwagon, making sure there were various hiding placing for Anne just in case someone inspected them. Sprig took the driving seat and grabbed Ol' Bessie's reigns and finally took off to make the journey to Wartwood.
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lovespelt · 3 years
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SIENTJKRV OK SO—
BKDK HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON AU
BUT INSTEAD OF HICCUP AND ASTRID AS IZUKU AND KATSUKI.
KATSUKI IS STOICK AND IZUKU IS VALKA.
I JUST IMAGINE THAT ONE SCENE FROM THE MOVIE—
Katsuki cupped Izuku's cheeks, looking at him with a soft, fond, awe-loving stare that Izuku wasn't familiar with— and whispered. "You are still as beautiful as the day that I've lost you.."
AND THE PLOT WOULD BE ALL LIKE, IZUKU GOT TAKEN BY THE DRAGONS SINCE HE WAS A LITTLE BOY WHILE PLAYING WITH KATSUKI.
AND KATSUKI SWORN TO AVENGE HIS (first Love's) CHILDHOOD FRIEND'S LIFE AND TRAINED TO BE NEXT IN BEING THE CHIEF BCZ IZUKU "DIED".
INKO AND YAGI MADE HIM THE NEXT CHIEF BCZ THEY KNEW THAT WAS WHAT IZUKU WOULD'VE WANTED.
AND THEY DIDN'T KNOW THAT IZUKU WAS ALIVE AND WAS LIVING AND LEARNING ABOUT DRAGONS.
He was 13 when he was taken, Katsuki and Izuku would still be friends while growing up bcz they don't have quirks here, even tho Izuku is weak, Katsuki still tries to protect him, Katsuki is still friends with Izuku bcz he didn't get much praise from his peers like the canon.
But it really messed up his head when Izuku got taken and that was the start of his hot headedness.
Idekrnrkkdk ERI AS HICCUP??? KOUTA AS ASTRID!!!
Eri was born with a horn shaped lump on her head after Katsuki became Chief (he's like,, 22 now)
But she wasn't his biological child, she was actually at another island, her father—chisaki, didn't like her appearance and he tried dropping her on a cliff.
But at this time, Izuku finally bulked up a bit and is living and familiar with dragons after 9 years and he learned everything about them and learned how to fly with them too and when he saw this man dropping a child from a cliff, he swooped in and saved Eri from the fall, the bottom was foggy so Chisaki couldn't see but he thought Eri was already dead so he walked off, not realizing there was a big ass dragon opening it's mouth to shoot fire into his whole body lmao
After that, Izuku tried raising Eri for a year with the dragons and realized that this isn't a suitable place to raise a child well and he was heartbroken by this realization and decided to maybe, give her near a village.
Perfect timing that Katsuki was out hunting in a nearby woods when Izuku was flying his dragon to go to the nearest village but then he saw this tall strong blond male hunting, he seemed to target a big deer but then he stopped when he saw two baby calves nearby and cursed out loud, making the deers run away.
And Izuku thought he was a perfect parent and all that without realizing that it was Katsuki.
So he left Eri (he hugged her tight one last time— his little snow) within Katsuki's sight and looked behind a tree. Ofc Katsuki saw the child and was like "it's parent's must've left it here to die bcz of the strange looking bump on it's forhead." And angrily took her back to his village, Izuku sighed in relief, knowing that the person that took her was a nice morale one.
And he left.
And Katsuki is all like, I'm just keeping you around till I find you a good enough family and one day Eri is all like Papa to Katsuki and Katsuki is all like Fuck shit looks like I'm a father now. And adopts Eri officially. And Katsuki mellows out again.
Eri didn't know why she had a fascination for dragons and wanting to learn about them and decided to use a journal and Katsuki was anxious (scared—) bcz his little girl acted just like Izuku, he still had Izuku's journals somewhere safe bcz he's a secret sentimental bastard and all that.
People loved Eri and shit but they were worried that there was gonna be another Izuku incident bcz of it and yada yada yada.
Gobber is Kirishima.
Tuffnut and Tuffnut as Katsuma and Mahoro.
Fishlegs as one of Tsu's little brother.
And Snotlout as that spoiled kid from the "I wanna see your cute face. Ft. Todoroki and bakugou" Episode.
Kouta is definitely Astrid.
And Eri kissed his cheeks Instead and bla bla bla.
So after most of the movie plot and Katsuki just accepted that Kouta is gonna be part of their weekend dinners from now on and the dragons when his daughter had almost died bcz of him.
They met Izuku again.
Eri learned how to do the flaming sword, she's like, 16 now. (And Izuku is like, 39 at this point but let's just make him look like he's in his mid twenties)
And Izuku revealed his face to her and was all like, "Eri..?" And Eri was all like "How did you know my name???" (And Izuku low-key blushed coz that was the name he wanted for his child to have when kacchan asked. He still didn't know that it WAS Katsuki is her dad tho.) He slowly removed his mask and kneeled to cup Eri's face and was all like "I could never forget you my little snow."
And it all clicked from there. Where she got her fondness for dragons, her little drawings of green bunnies (bcz of Izuku's mask HAHA) , her crybabyness, and her Notebooks.
She kind of adapted his traits shen she was 2 and she kind of connected some dots after she remembered her dad saying that she acted like her first love alot.
And she asked him. "...Are you Deku?"
Ofc this surprised Izuku and he was like "how did you know that name??" And she was all like "My dad talks about his first love to me because the way I acted reminded him, my dad is Chief Bakugou Katsuki from birth." And Izuku's eyes widen and he was all like "Kacchan is the Chief now?!"
Ofc they reunited at last after Katsuki tracked down where her daughter was and tried attacking Izuku coz he was wearing a mask and he did not recognize him until he was pinned to the ground (damn this guy is strong wtf?!) And Eri is like NO! STOP DEKU! THAT'S MY DAD.
And Katsuki froze and the person above him whispered "Kacchan..?"
And that ladies and gentlemen, was the third time in his 40 years of living, crying.
(first when Izuku was taken and second when he thought Eri died)
So yeah, (first Love's) Childhood friend reunion!!!
They talked alot and it was the first time Eri saw his dad smiling and laughing alot with someone that isn't her. And she just casually mentioned about how Izuku is her dad's first love and all and both became a blushing mess and stutters.
(wow never in a million years did she thought her dad would act like this,)
So they went back to Berk on their dragons (Eri did not loose a leg, and her Dragon is a Light fury instead!!!)
And Watch everyone doing a reunion for Izuku and bla bla bla and all that (we aren't gonna make the whole Stoick dying part, no fricken way,)
And both now reunited childhood friends tried to flirt with each other and being oblivious to both of their antics and the whole village find this amusing and just kept quiet while Eri thinks Kouta would have a permanent hand shape mark on his face for facepalming too many times because of both of her parental figures that act like fucking teenagers hahahaha.
Like that's their whole plot lmao, hope you enjoy!!????
(this is unedited and rushed coz it's really late where I live and I'm sorry for any possible spelling errors, it just struck me in the middle of the night and I'm too tired to reread and edit it lmao, I'm sorry,thx for reading!!)
this is rly rly cuteeeeeee. i’ve never actually seen httyd 2 or 3, but i loved this- the bits w eri and jouta were adorable too 🥺🥺🥺 i would so totally read this fic!
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callmefitz · 3 years
Text
HomeBound, a TTP Fic
PSA- I don’t know how to do the “read more” thing and this is a long fic so, apolgies in advance for this long post. Also I wrote this at midnight in my notes app with absolutely no editing so, read at your own risk.
Summary: It’s been weeks since the Crown Prince of the Heartlands, Prince Wensclaus ran away from home. During his absence, he’s taken a spunky aspiring knight under his wing to distract from the pain of his disapproving parents. Although, anyone can tell it’s more than that. He genuinely cares for the kid. As for his own family, however, they are not content to lose him. Featuring aro/ace future Wensclaus, a non-binary TTP OC I made named Law, and an older, wiser, but generally unchanged Joan.
————-
Although it’s been years since Wensclaus has been to the Hinterlands, there’s something familiar about the way the wind whips at his hair, heavy with the promise of rain. There’s something familiar about the dull, incessant roar of leaves in the breeze, and there’s something familiar about the dry crunch of dirt beneath his heels as he bites his lower lip, drawing blood as he parries and ripostes a rather impressive attack to his left side.
This place definitely had never held the warm glow of home to him, but the landscape tugged at Polaroid memories all the same.
His assailant, far more used to the northernmost elements than Wensclaus, circled at a wide radius, letting limp their wrist in exertion and dragging the point of their sword in the dirt. Their face was leveled in an annoyed glare (it was rather early). Beneath their tunic, their chest rose and fell in quick succession.
“Careful,” Wensclaus muttered, “We just had the blacksmith sharpen that.”
His adversary lept back into action, once again assuming a rather bold offensive strategy, yet left their form with much to be desired. At any moment, really, he could send them toppling on their back, but this skirmish wasn’t staged for the purpose of an expedient victory.
Although they only employed a handful of successful attacks on Wensclaus, he couldn’t help but to find himself surpised by their skill level. That, or the fact that without the rigid background of swordsman training, they were afforded the ability to combine techniques in a fluid manner without so much as a second thought. It was a skill that he himself envied.
The sparring match between the pair often drawn a crowd of onlookers, as entertainment in the Hinterlands dwindled after Barrabas returned to the Midlands. However, the mist on the plains had yet to evaporate and the cock had yet to crow, so they were alone in their back and forth dance.
Or so they thought.
Through the mist, an imposing horseback figure drew closer and closer, regarding the fight with vague curiosity. She watched the epic climax, and subsequent end, as the younger swordsperson unexpectedly threw Wensclaus off balance and tumbling to the ground.
“Do you yield,” Law said with a false air of suave.
“Ah, I’ve been bested,” Wensclaus replied in a similar play of false airs, “I yield, I yield! Spare me, lest I suffer a worser fate.”
Law laughed and held out a hand to Wensclaus and pulled him up.
“Good work with your offense,” Wensclaus praised, “Your footwork has improved greatly.”
“While yours has only grown sloppier since you’ve been gone.” The mystery spectator cut in. Her horse drew closer in the mist, and with horrifying realization Wensclaus realized it was his Aunt Joan. She dismounted and strode towards the pair.
Wensclaus gripped his sword, unsure if he wanted a fight or a reunion.
The head knight in question stood with an innate intimidating posture that made Wensclaus feel like a child again. However, that clearly wasn’t the case; Wensclaus had grown into his gangly limbs and assumed a self-assured posturer, and the constant eroding factor of time had etched wrinkles into Joan’s face and dusted Grey into her hair.
“Look, It’s the no-fun police,” Law scowled, crossing their arms, yet hiding slightly behind Wensclaus. He only sighed.
“Your fathers have been worried sick for you, Wensclaus,” Joan said softly, “they miss you terribly.”
Wensclaus kicked a stone, “Thats very inconvenient for them. I hope they feel better.”
“Wen-“
“No.” Wensclaus shouted. He wanted to continue, but he then became hyper-aware of Law, himself over seven years their senior, ducking behind the heavy mass of his cloak and gripping it slightly. He sighed. Not here.
“Can we continue this somewhere else?”
——
After a whispered argument that warmed Wensclaus’s heart but ultimately convinced him of Law’s protective yet stubborn nature, he found himself seated across the table from Joan in the only tavern in town and Law sulking outside as they waited for the adults to finish up. A daunting mug of root beer sat in front of him, which was much more interesting than the steely grey eyes of his pseudo-aunt.
“I can’t believe they sent my babysitter to come pick me up,” Wensclaus began, deciding to skip the small talk and poke the sleeping elephant with a stick. Or whatever the idiom is about.
“Wensclaus,” Joan began.
“Like, ok, they have a kingdom to run, but I’ve seen my Dad pull holidays out of his ass so we could have a vacation. They could have come themselves-“
“Your fathers did not send for me, Wensclaus.” Joan cut Wensclaus off with an impressive gulp of definetly-not-root beer. “I doubt they even know where you are. Not that they haven’t been searching, of course. As far as they’re concerned, I’m farther up North to check up on a dwarf problem your Uncle Darling is having.”
Wensclaus’s face drew up as he straightened in his booth. “Wait, then how did you-“
“It just made sense,” Joan replied, “You experienced perceived rejection and to cope you returned back to the place where you first received rejection. The little knight you found, however, was a nice touch. They’re coming along quite nicely. I’m proud.”
The explicit praise did not fly over Wensclaus’s head, “I’m that predictable, huh?”
“You’re not predictable, just human,” Joan shrugged, then at Wensclaus’s face, continued, “That’s just what Cecily has been telling me. And for the record, I’m not telling them you’re here until you’re ready to be found.”
Wensclaus leaned back in his chair and stared down at the frothy mess of his root-beer.
“They all miss-“
“It’s just hard.” Wensclaus said, without emotion. Joan remained quiet this time.
“It’s hard when, you know, everyone is talking about you, like, oh look at Prince Wensclaus! He’s like, I don’t know, in his mid-twenties, and tied down to no one,” Wensclaus laughed dryly, “His parents, they were married by age eighteen. Basically invented love and all that shit. How massive of a failure do you have to be to not love anyone when those are your role models?”
“You must be pretty fucked up.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “God it’s just... it’s so hard. I’m nothing like them and... it’s so hard.”
“You love me, don’t you?” Joan said, “And what about your Aunt Cecily?”
Wensclaus regraded Joan strangely, “Well, yeah, but not like-“
“What about your Uncles up North, Darling and Percy?” Joan continued, “Or your little knight?”
“Joan, it’s not like-“
“Your fathers?” Joan pressed, “Do you not love them?”
“I do, Joan, but that doesn’t count!” Wensclaus snapped. A few patrons across the bar glanced over. Face flushing, Wensclaus lowered his voice and relaxed his clenched fists, “That’s not the point, it-“
“You’re right,” Joan said, “The point is that you feel angry because of the high expectations inadvertently placed on your shoulders by your fathers because you’re different. But to say you love no one is so... far from the truth. Love takes many forms, and they can all be fulfilling.”
Wensclaus gave no response, instead favoring the mug in his hands than making eye contact with Joan. He was holding himself back from lashing out again.
“When I came out to my father, as both gay and a knight,” Joan began, “He tried to fix me.”
This caught Wensclaus’s attention.
“He set me up with all kinds of guys,” Joan laughed, “even a pig farmer. Enrolled me in all these classes for lady-etiquette and had me fitted for a ball gown corset. I was so angry, I ran away.”
“But you and your dad get along great,” Wensclaus said, “He’s over at your and Aunt Cecily’s cottage almost every weekend.”
“Now we get along great,” Joan corrected, “But this was all when you were very young.”
This satisfied Wensclaus’s confusion.
“I guess in the end he was afraid for me and afraid for himself,” Joan said, “Everything I was doing he had never seen done before, and that was scary. When people are scared, they do dumb things, like threaten to estrange their children.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Wensclaus asked slowly.
“When Cecily found out about what my father had threatened, she marched her little sequined self down to the pub he was hiding out in and gave him a piece of her mind,” Joan continued, “After you left, that’s exactly what I did to your fathers.”
“What?” Wensclaus finally cracked a smile, “You yelled at my dads?”
Joan shrugged, “It’s not the first time. I love them, Wensclaus, I really do, but they can be incredibly thick sometimes.”
That sobered him up, “Yeah.”
“They reacted the way they did not because they didn’t love you anymore, Wens,” Joan reaches across the table and grabbed his hand, “They reacted that way because what you were describing was something they had never seen done before, and they were scared for what that meant for you.”
“That still doesn’t make it right,” he replied.
“You’re right. It was wrong, which is exactly why Rupert has written and rewritten his formal apology to you several dozen times, so you know that in fourteen different languages that he loves you no matter what,” Joan replied, “And Amir is currently drafting legislation to nationally recognize aromanticism as a romantic identity and provide funding to revise public service announcements to include it. It was wrong of them to react the way they did, and they only thing they want in the world is to take it back.”
“Wow, I-“ Wensclaus suddenly found himself speaking through tears, “I don’t-“
“I’m not going to force you to come home before you’re ready,” Joan said steadily, “But I want you to know that when you are, there’s a place for you.”
It was embarrassing, the way that Wensclaus began sobbing in the tavern like that. The eyes of half a dozen hitherlandians landed on his shaking frame as the head knight of the heartlands held him to her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, just like she used to when he had nightmares about the Despair. But this was so much worse, because this was not about an enemy he could defeat; rather, it was the floodgates of relief mixing with the festering hurt that had been building in him ever since he stepped foot out of the palace gates. Dimly, he was aware of the soft reassurances his aunt whispered into his ear, but in his determination to speak through his tears it all was mush.
“I want to go home,” he said hoarsely, and he felt the same relief within Joan.
—-
As the door to the tavern opened, Law jumped up from the ground and ran up to Wensclaus. However, after they took in his tear-stained face and Joan’s arm on his shoulder, they stumbled back, as if flinching in pain and disbelief.
“So you’re going back?” Law seethed, “Just like that?”
Wensclaus made brief eye contact with Joan, who released her arm from his shoulder and walked off with a nod. He returned his attention to Law and wiped his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m going back. I can’t hide here forever.”
“But they said-“
“And they realized they were wrong,” Wensclaus finished, “I want to give them another chance before I cut them off entirely. If Joan can do it... then I guess I can too.”
His rationalization only caused his mentee to spiral further, “A-And what are you going to do, huh? Just.... leave me here?”
Wensclaus’s face drew up as an emotional knife stabbed cleanly through his heart. This scene felt all too familiar, except never from this perspective.
“No, no, of course not. No. Never. You’re going to come with me and Joan,” he said, placing his arms in Law’s shoulders in an attempt to ground them, “I mean, only if that’s what you want.”
“I won’t fit in,” Law said quietly, “It will be... weird.”
Wensclaus laughed, “I didn’t fit in either. It’s not that weird.”
In a conspiratorial tone, he added, “Plus, everyone there is weird. Just wait until you meet my Uncle Darling.”
That caused Law to smile as they held their hands on top of Wensclaus’s on their shoulders.
“Wensclaus,” Joan called out from her horse, “Little Knight.”
The pair glanced up from their conversation as Joan trotted closer.
“You coming?”
Wensclaus straightened up, leaving a hand in Law’s shoulder.
“Yeah. Let’s go home.”
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angel-deux-writes · 4 years
Text
I’ve talked a lot about this long fic I’m working on this month, and I finally got started yesterday and have already churned out a pretty decent amount! I’m like 6 chapters deep, and I wanted to share the first one, both because I kind of like it and because I want to post something this weekend. 
I have no idea what this is going to end up being called. Currently in my draft it’s The Return of the Wolf, but that’s going to change. It’ll be Jaime/Brienne, Robb/Dany, and Jon/Sansa when it’s done! With probably a bit of Arya/Gendry as well! 
Hopefully putting it under the cut here...
Jaime I
 She is still in here somewhere.
Jaime refuses to run, knowing that it would draw the more obsequious of his men to him like large metal moths, looking for a chance to win the favor of their one-handed commander. He keeps his expression level, and he walks as quickly as he dares past his men and through the underbelly of Riverrun. There are shouts from deeper in the tunnel, and he follows them. The clash of swords. His stomach tightens. So much for a peaceful surrender. He runs anyway.
She is still in here somewhere, and he must make sure that she gets safely away. She cannot linger here once the Lannister forces have taken the castle, and he knows that she will linger if Tully gives some fool, impassioned speech about honor and duty, because the stubborn woman is too honorable by half, and she will be moved by the old man’s courage, and she will be killed by the old man’s courage.
He cannot allow it.
He scarcely knows why. He warned her. He all but begged her, but of course she didn’t listen. She never has. Even when they grew something of a respect for each other, she was always so sure she knew better than him. Well, this is what happens. She gets herself caught in a siege she should be far away from, and here he is, trying to clean up the mess.
The mess. The Lannisters are the mess. The Lannisters and the Freys, stealing the ancestral home of the Tullys from Brynden Blackfish, who has long been a hero of Jaime’s. How did it come to this? How did he let it come to this? He thought he could be better, once. Why did he stop trying?
He increases his pace as he ducks his head past a wooden beam and finds himself in a rocky tunnel. There is a dead man at his feet. Lannister armor. Another up ahead.  Jaime trips past them, his golden hand loud and cumbersome along the rock wall as he places it there for balance, stumbling as the shadows mess with his perception. Ah. Another dead man, just ahead. He wonders which of them killed him. Not that it matters. He’s seen Brienne take down three men before. She hardly broke a sweat.
He rounds a corner, and at last he sees her. She looks bigger than ever. Her frame takes up most of the tunnel the same way it took up most of his pavilion and left it feeling empty when she was gone. She’s speaking urgently to the Blackfish. Tugging on his arm. The fool woman is trying to get him to abandon the castle. Jaime sighs, and Brienne and the Blackfish both look in his direction. Mostly impassive, both of them, but he can see that one is surprised. Heartbroken to see his left hand near his sword.
He hadn’t actually intended to draw it, but Brienne steps before the Blackfish and pulls her own. Oathkeeper, he thinks. Yes, and she means to keep my oaths for me, if I’m too much a Lannister to keep them myself. Even if it means running a sword through my gut.
“What are you doing?” he asks her.
“Ser Jaime, please,” she says, and she sets her stance wider.
“I will not surrender,” the Blackfish says, behind her.
“I was speaking to the lady,” Jaime replies, trying for sarcastic, trying to pretend that the daggers the Blackfish glares in his direction aren’t piercing. There is sweat on his brow; it trickles down his temple. He dares not wipe it away. “Lady Brienne, I cannot allow you to take him.”
“And I cannot allow you to stop me,” Brienne replies. “I told you it might come to this.”
Jaime continues to move closer. He still doesn’t draw his sword. Could he draw against Brienne? He hardly knows. Perhaps, if it came to it. He’d like to at least die with sword in hand, if only to spare the poor girl the trauma of striking down an unarmed man she once may have thought of fondly, despite all his many faults.
“And I told you that I hoped it wouldn’t,” he says softly. Brienne’s sword does not waver, but her expression does. He meets her eyes.
“It doesn’t have to,” she says.
“My lady,” the Blackfish warns her gently, still close behind her. “We must go.”
“Uncle.”
Jaime’s eyes leave Brienne’s for long enough to see the figure that appears in the tunnel behind her. It’s impossible, yet Jaime would know the boy anywhere. He spent a year chained in his camp, visited periodically by the King in the North, with his great grey beast beside him. Jaime did his best to comfort Brienne when they received word on the road that the idiot boy had died with his mother and wife at that cursed wedding, but he hadn’t exactly mourned the loss himself. He heard tales from the Freys. Bragging, endless tales about cutting the boy’s head from his body and sewing his wolf’s on in its stead. Something that made Tywin laugh and made Cersei smile and made Tyrion wince and made Jaime try to think of nicer things so he didn’t have to imagine it.
“No,” he says, forgetting to be calm or wry or amused or whatever it was he was trying to go for here. “Brienne…”
He can hear the songs now. The Return of the Wolf. The Young Wolf Rises. Triumphant stories of the boy who never lost a battle but who lost the war for love, born again to take revenge. Sentiment has already turned against the Lannisters. Cersei may not want to hear it, but their son holds to his throne only through what remains of the realm’s fear of their father. When the smallfolk hear that Robb Stark has risen again…
“Get in the boat,” Brienne says over her shoulder. “I’ll keep him.”
“We cannot wait forever,” Robb warns her. Jaime can’t stop looking at him, hoping to see an illusion. A trick. This is some Tully cousin they hope to use as a decoy. Some trick to win favor in the war the Starks are fighting against the Boltons.
No. Stark turns his poisonous glare in Jaime’s direction, and it’s him. He is so much his mother and father at once. Jaime has felt the force of that glare many times in his life, but it is perhaps more potent now, with Brienne standing between them.
“It won’t take long,” Brienne says, and both men vanish into the darkness behind her. Jaime had begun to advance again, but he stops when she speaks the words. He wants to feel betrayed. He wants to say Brienne in a hurt, small voice, like a much younger man. A child asking for answers the Septon can’t give. Why?
“I must warn you I’ve been practicing,” he says instead. Brienne’s eyes close for an instant, but then they open again, made glimmering and orange by the torchlight. It used to strike him as funny that she could be so much a maiden in the body she had been given. A soft heart beneath muscles and a massive height. Some cruelty of the gods made her fall in love with poor, dead Renly, and they made her too much man for most but not man enough to secure the heart of the one she wanted. He doesn’t think it’s funny anymore.
“As have I,” she says. Her maiden’s heart is breaking. Jaime steps closer. His left hand still holds the sword, but he doesn’t draw it. She meets his eyes, and her chin raises as she looks at him.
“You’d do it, wouldn’t you?” he asks. He can hear the Blackfish barking orders at someone down at the water’s edge, and he suddenly wants her on it. Away from him. Away from his family. Take the bloody Stark boy and go, he wants to shout, but he doesn’t. His voice is very quiet. He doesn’t know he can shout, now. He is oddly breathless, oddly removed. “For the Starks, you would strike me down. Kill me as you killed Renly.”
“I didn’t kill Renly,” Brienne says. She tilts her head slightly. “Stannis did that. And I killed Stannis.”
A boast from anyone else. From her, it’s a warning. A reminder that he struggled to fight her even when he had two hands—the irons and the year of captivity were bad, but they weren’t a maimed sword hand. If he tried to fight her now, she’d cut through him like wet sand. The best he could hope for would be delaying the inevitable until his men could come to his aid, but then he would have to take her in, and Cersei would…
No. He shoves Widows Wail back into place, and he takes a demonstrative step back.
“You would have done it,” he says. Brienne slides Oathkeeper back into place with a look that’s warning. Almost afraid.
“Yes,” she says.
“Good,” he replies. “Now go. Before my men realize you’ve taken the most valuable political prisoner we had and one we didn’t even know existed.”
There is still a glimmer in Brienne’s eyes as she nods and turns to go, but he also catches the slight edge of a smile. The slight upturn of her lips. She thinks he has done a good and honorable thing, of course. She always thinks the best of him. He wishes she wouldn’t. It would be so much safer for her if she realized how wretched he has become.
He follows her at a distance. Brienne settles into the boat. Her squire is there, he sees. At least she listened to him about that. The Blackfish and Robb Stark are there too. If Cersei knew what Jaime let slip away…
He raises his golden hand when Brienne turns back to look, when they have already begun to melt away into the fog. Brienne hesitates, but then she raises her hand as well. He stands and watches until they’re gone.
Next time, he won’t be so lucky. Cersei is always calling him a fool, and perhaps she’s right. He was a fool to think he could simply meet Brienne of Tarth as friends. The honorable woman and her absurd fondness for the oathbreaker. As long as he continues to stand against the family she swore herself to, she will continue to stand against him.
It would have destroyed her to kill him. But she would have done it, and he would have deserved it. Perhaps she wouldn’t have felt honorable to do it, but she would have been. The Kingslayer slayed at last by a woman as virtuous as she is ugly. The songs would last for a thousand years, and the singers would never know how either of them truly felt for each other.
He returns to his men. He says nothing of Brienne, nor of the Blackfish. He accepts the news of Tully’s escape with an incline of his head and some wry comment about Tully being a sly old man.
In the morning, they will begin the return trip towards Kings Landing. Towards Cersei. And he will pretend that he is as eager to get back to her as he was only hours ago.
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dccomics-imagines · 7 years
Text
Terrible Twos(Batboys)
Bruce:
Okay let’s get something straight.
This man has only had to take care of kids from like 10 and up.
He never had to deal with an actual child.
Jesus Christ this man is so unprepared.
And with his genes, it’s probably much worse.
But hey, you’re the best at hide & seek.
If you thought he didn’t sleep before that oohh boy.
He’s probably crying internally.
Screaming children are not his thing
But let’s get another thing straight,
He still loves you.
With all his damn heart.
And he will do his best to protect you and make you feel loved.
He probably reads every parenting book he can find
Before eventually going to Alfred.
And man Alfred is a f**king champ.
He knows everything.
Meanwhile everyone is panicking and frantically searching for you, Alfie over here just casually pulls the cabinets open and picks you up.
“Aren’t you a curious little lad/lady? Just like your father.”
(I think this turned into an alfred headcanon lmao)
Alfred helps Bruce set the bed time(god does this man even know what a bed time is??)
He also help with proper foods.
But let me tell ya.
No matter how busy Bruce is, no matter where he is, he manages to always read a bedtime story, and wish you sweet dreams.
If anyone were to ever hurt you, whether it be emotional, physical, or mentally, he will give them hell.
Dick:
My oh my
My boy has so many nicknames for you.
And they’re all weird as heck.
Every weekend he steals you(no, literally jumps through your window and kidnaps you) for a playdate.
Takes you out for icecream and to the amusement park a lot
You’re spoiled rotten because of this guy.
Honestly is probably the easiest to bond to.
But he doesn’t spoil you too much.
At some point in time, Alfred puts his foot down.
Movie nights of Disney are frequent.
So many recordings of his baby sister singing and dancing.
If Bruce somehow isn’t able to read to you, he’s over in a flash with 3 books, reading them to you. 
Later, when Bruce is back, he reads to you the next night.
Jason:
Probably has so many shirts with funny texts on them
“Touch my sister punk and I’ll knock ya into next week”
Carries you around everywhere.
All his teammates coo at you.
Meanwhile Bruce is having yet another heart attack.
One time he found you with his helmet on wobbling and trying to act like him.
He dies(again)
Tough Brother TM
He babies you though.
Like if you cry 11/10 times he spoils you.
He just doesn’t like seeing his sister cry.
Bizzaro loves playing with you though.
He makes sure not to be rough when playing though.
AFTER ALL YOU ARE JUST THE TINIEST HUMAN HE HAS EVER SEEN
Tim:
Surprisingly, it isn’t Bruce or Dick who are the first to be there when you have a nightmare.
He’s always there.
He is so overprotective too.
Sets extra cameras around your room and the manor.
So when you stir awake from a nightmare, he stops what he’s doing and sits down with you, bringing his laptop with him to continue working.
Bruce walked one time to find you both passed out next to each other.
You were clinging to his hair but Tim did not care at all.
“TIM MOVE YOUR COFFEE!!”
“Oh....oH SHIT DON’T DRINK THAT”
Lets you sit on his lap while he’s working.
One time you actually helped him with his work.
He couldn’t figure out a code and he was almost there and you pressed on of the keys and YAY code solved.
Still to this day thinks it’s coincidence. It probably was but-
He can never be mad at you though. Like, sometimes you’ll get into things an he just sighs and moves you away.
Don’t get me wrong though, he does tell you that what you did was bad.
Damian:
“They are my blood sibling therefore we have more connection and I’m of more importance to them”
Yeah okay Dami.
Dude your room is like, overflowing with pets.
I mean you as a kid appreciate it but Bruce cannot keep track of every animal to feed, and how to keep Jason from not eating them, and jesus christ is that another chicken-
“What do you mean she can’t hold a sword?”
“DAMIAN SHE’S TWO”
If you show him your drawing he gives honest criticism.
You probably don’t understand half of what he’s saying.
So you giggle and move on.
He keeps all of your drawings though.
He shows them off to Jon a lot.
Jon gives him a confused look but enjoys them nonetheless.
“Dami!”
“YOU HEAR THAT SHE SAID MY NAME PEASANT SCUM!!”
“LANGUAGE”
“Scum!!”
“DAMN IT DAMIAN”
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imaginedilestrade · 7 years
Text
Unitum. (1/12)
Unitum- (Latin) United- adjective; joined together politically, for a common purpose, or by common feelings.
Summary: Two kingdoms wage war against another. You are on one side while Greg stands with another…
Warnings: A tiny bit gory at the start.
A/N: Okay so I’m posting a day early because tomorrow I’ll be at sherlocked! 😁 chapter two will be up next Friday but for now I hope you enjoy the first part! I’d love to know what you guys think 😊 Have a great weekend!
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Chapter 1
——————
You walked forward holding a man by the scruff of the neck before stopping just in front of the Kings throne. “Your Majesty,” you bowed your head slightly before him “I have brought forth the man you wished to see.”
You turned to look at the shaking man with a knowing smirk before returning your gaze to the king. “Thank you,” he shifted in his throne slightly “You are known as Anderson, yes?”
“Y-yes your Majesty,” the man frantically nodded and you heard him gulp when he saw you curl your fingers around the grip of your sword. “I am Phillip Anderson…”
You watched as the king stood from the throne and slowly made his way to circle the both of you. You saw a new figure arrive out the corner of you eye and silently bowed to Sebastian, the commander of the Kings guard. He bowed back to you, the Captain. Your attention quickly returned to the situation at hand.
“You have been a soldier in my army for quite some time now, haven’t you?” The king asked and Anderson nodded “And how has he been, Captain?”
You tilted your head slightly “Exceptional my lord, except…” you trailed off and looked at him with a evil grin.
“Except what?” The king already knew what you were going to say.
“Except he has not been trained by myself or by anyone who serves you.” Anderson let out a small yelp under his breath and his eyes fell to the floor.
“Oh really?” The Kings voice pitched and then he let out a laugh.
“But-” Anderson tried to protest but the king cut him off.
“Are you speaking to accuse my Captain and my sister of lying?!” The king screamed in Anderson face, causing dots of spit to hit his face.
“No,” Anderson growled “You will both burn with this kingdom when King Sherlock overthrows you! He will slaughter you both!” Anderson screamed and attempted to lunge for the king but you quickly held him back and forcibly pushed him to the ground.
“Kneel before your king!” You screamed in his ear so loud he was convinced it had burst.
He didn’t have much of a choice but to kneel, you held his calves down with your foot. The king stood in front of him with his hands loosely clasped together “Now bow your head before your king!” You hissed between gritting teeth.
“He is no king of mine!” Anderson snapped.
You were quick to draw your sword, it went through Anderson’s neck like a knife through butter. Anderson’s head rolled and landed by the Kings feet “Hmm you’re bowing your head now, traitor…” the king smirked and you stood up straight before him while putting your bloodied sword away. “Clear this mess!” Servants came in and dragged the body away and scrubbed away the blood while the king returned to the throne.
“Y/N, Sebastian,” the king called for you and you moved forward, both of you kneeling on one knee before him “What news?”
“None yet, my lord,” Sebastian replied “But I think within the next week or two we will be preparing for battle.”
You eyes fell to the floor and the king noticed “What is the matter?”
Your eyes snapped back up to him with a forced smile “Nothing, my king.”
“Y/N,” he lightly laughed and reached for your hand “I am your brother…”
“You are also my king,” you bowed your head.
“Sebastian, leave us. I will speak with you later.” Sebastian stood and bowed before leaving. The king dismissed everyone else in the throne room and you were left alone with him. “What’s wrong?” He asked in a soft voice.
“I’m weary of more traitors, they could disclose our battle plans and strategies to the other kingdom. I do not want to lead my men to their deaths!” You admitted in one breath.
“They will not under your command. You,” the king gripped onto your arms and shook you a little “Are the greatest captain that has ever served in this kingdom.”
You slowly nodded and absorbed his words “Thank you my ki-”
He was quick to cut you off “-We are alone…”
You smirked “Thank you, Jim.”
“Better,” he smiled “Now and change for dinner. A lady should not arrive at dinner wearing a suit of armour and chainmail!” He laughed and you laughed with him.
“I’d never!” You turned to leave but he called you back again.
“We have a special guest tonight!” Your brows furrowed as he continued speaking “I request you to wear your crown, please.”
You rolled your eyes “If you place a crown on a cod, it’s still a cod!”
“Are you comparing yourself to a cod?” You could hear the amusement in your brothers voice.
“It was merely an example, a crown does not change who or what I am, even if I wear it or not…”
“Hmm a cod is is less ugly…” Jim hummed and you playfully narrowed your eyes.
“Good afternoon my lord,” you dramatically bowed “I shall see you at dinner.”
You made your way up the stone steps to your room and a guard opened the door for you. When you stepped in your lady-in-waiting, Molly, was already drawing you a bath. “My lady,” she curtsied with a smile “What dress would you like today?”
“The Midnight blue one with pearl accents,” you took off what you could and Molly helped you with the rest.
“Sorry ma'am,” she lightly giggled “You’re going to have to be more specific with the dress!” You laughed along with her, she did have a point. Blue was the traditional colour in your kingdom and the majority of your dresses were different shades of blue with some black and white and cream dresses too. Red clothing was not allowed in the kingdom.
Red was the traditional colour of King Sherlock’s kingdom. The enemy of your brother.
The battle between the two has been happening since your great-grandfather was a baby.
Molly placed a thin, flowing dressing gown over your bare body and you went to your wardrobe to choose your dress. Molly placed it over a dress frame for you before assisting you with your bath.
“Apparently there’s a special guest tonight…” you trailed off before Molly poured water over your head.
“So I’ve heard, your brother sent a messenger to tell me to prepare your crown.”
“Did he tell you who it was?” You pressed.
Molly shook her head as she poured water over you again “He did not…” you let out a sigh and stood up, you raised your arms and Molly quickly wrapped a sheet around you and you dried yourself off.
She brushed your hair and fixed it nicely to make you look a little more presentable before tackling your dress. Molly almost cracked a rib she tied your corset so tight. You let out a huff as you adjusted yourself but stood still when she placed your crown on your head. By the time you were ready it was almost time for dinner.
Molly would be attending with you, as she often did for formal duties. You walked over to your open window and inhaled the cold air, it burned your lungs. Winter was approaching fast and snow kissed the very tops of the mountain ranges in the distance. You saw movement in the distance, it was fairly hazy but you could see King Sherlock’s castle. You saw a small window, no bigger than your own, lit up by candlelight. A shadow passed and for a minute you thought it was the king, until that thought vanished when you were summoned to dinner.
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geekmama · 6 years
Text
The Kensington House
 Pure fluff and kid!fic besides, this is the 26th part of my Time of the Season series, and written for the Where prompt in the BDT of prompts I’ve been working on - 98 down and 2 to go!
There was something amiss. Sherlock knew it as soon as he laid eyes on his wife, on returning to 221B earlier than his text that afternoon had originally estimated. Molly was very happy to see him, but there was something around her eyes, and in her smile, and in her embrace when she rose from the dinner table and came round to greet him. The baby must have been put to bed already, but the three older children were their usual selves, each of them vying for attention and yammering on when Sherlock was frowning with narrowed eyes, striving for wordless communication with their mother. 
But then Jon popped up with, “Oh, and Lady Smallwood came to visit today, she walked in just when we’d started playing pirates!” 
And Will laughed. “Yes, we were bashing about with our swords, even Daisy. And Lexie was helping Mum with the laundry, so the place was a complete tip! I think Lady Smallwood was pretty shocked, she didn’t stay for tea or anything--” 
“But Daddy!” Daisy broke in, tugging with some violence on the sleeve of his Belstaff. “She asked us to dinner tomorrow -- all of us, not just you and Mummy. At her beautiful house! May we go, pleeeease?” 
Sherlock pried Daisy’s little hand from his coat and gave it a squeeze, though he raised a brow at Molly’s expression. “Is that what it is?” 
He saw that she was tempted to brush it off, but then she gave a rueful chuckle. “Well, yes, a bit. Not that I blame the children! If it hadn’t been pouring buckets all day, we could have gone out somewhere, a museum and the park perhaps. But with Lexie barely on the mend from that virus...” 
“Yes, the weather was far too cold,” Sherlock agreed. “It’s ridiculous for the beginning of May, and particularly inconvenient on a day when these tiresome brats are out of school and must be kept occupied lest they tear the place apart.” The tiresome brats merely laughed at this, and hugged him, and he couldn’t help smirking. But he said to Molly, “Not the best way to spend your day off. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay and help. ” 
“Greg needed you,” Molly shrugged. “And we managed -- though I believe Will was right about Alicia being shocked. Mrs. Hudson let her in and we didn’t hear her coming up the stairs, so there was no time to put things to rights. But we can discuss this later, if you like. I believe your greedy sons have left you at least a few scraps of dinner! Come sit down.” 
But Daisy, dissatisfied at this put-off, said, “But Mummy, Daddy, can we go tomorrow? If we promise to be good?” 
The thought of his children on the loose in Alicia Smallwood’s elegant Kensington mansion was enough to strike dismay into the heart of a stronger man than Sherlock Holmes, promises or no. But Molly reiterated in her “Mummy’s Serious” tone, “Your father and I will discuss it later!” and Daisy sighed, dramatically sulky as only a four year old -- his four year old -- could be, but ultimately accepting the delay without further complaint.
 *
 Alicia might be known as Lady Smallwood, Associate of the British Government, but she was also very much a woman and a mother, and was not at all impervious to the sight of three of the four Holmes urchins, all dressed to the nines and fairly dancing with anticipation of a high treat as they made their way into the gate and up the front walk, their wary but resigned parents in tow. 
“No running! And remember: your best manners,” Molly was heard to say, probably for the tenth time. 
Alicia chuckled as Mycroft came up beside her at the door and took her hand in his. 
“Let’s hope you’re still amused two hours from now,” he murmured. 
“Oh, hush,” she said, giving him a severe look. “You know you love them to pieces.” 
Mycroft gave a sigh of resignation. “I do, but I prefer them in small doses, rather than en masse.” 
Alicia chuckled at that. “They’ll be fine.” She turned back to greet Daisy as the little girl cast off restraint and flitted ahead, up the walkway. 
“Look at my new dress, Aunt Alicia!” she exclaimed, as she bounced up the few marble steps to the wide porch. She stopped to smooth the skirt of the pink satin confection she was wearing. “Isn’t it lovely?” 
“My dear, you look ravishing,” Alicia assured her, bending down to kiss her cheek. 
Daisy sweetly returned the favor, and then said, brightly, “Hello, Uncle Mycroft! We’re here!” 
“So I see,” said Mycroft, the laughter in his voice almost entirely free of disapprobation. 
“Look, lads!” said Sherlock, too brightly, as the rest of the family approached in Daisy’s wake. “Uncle Mycroft is here, too! Now we’re guaranteed a fine selection of cake!” 
Alicia narrowed her eyes at Mycroft’s brother but refrained from comment as Molly had the matter in hand with raised brows and a useful jab with her elbow. 
Unfortunately, he only simpered at Molly before turning his teasing gaze on his brother again. “Things must be slow at the office with both of you able to be here,” he remarked. 
“An accurate observation,” said Mycroft, “and a fact for which we must all be thankful. Boys! You look very smart -- and uncomfortable. I thought school was out several hours ago.” 
“We had our music lessons just before we came,” Jon said, wrinkling his nose. “Madame insists we dress like gentlemen.” 
“Ah, so I recall now, and very proper, too,” said Mycroft with approval, “though if your parents permit you might at least remove your ties -- God knows your father hasn’t worn one in years. Molly, my dear, you look as ravishing as your daughter.” 
Molly, who wore a lacy white cardigan over a light blue sheath that prettily accentuated her still-slender figure, said warmly, “It’s good to see you, Mycroft.” 
“And you,” said Mycroft, with real sincerely, smiling down at his sister-in-law. 
“Alicia,” said Sherlock. “You’re looking well.” 
Alicia raised a brow. “Thank you,” she said, then silently mouthed one word at him: Behave! 
He made no verbal reply, just assumed a comically wounded expression and placed his hand over his heart. 
Alicia rolled her eyes and and turned back to the little boys. “I see that you’ve brought along your violin, Jon, and we’ve just had the piano in the drawing room re-tuned. Will you two favor us with your latest pieces?” 
“Yes!” said Jon with alacrity, and Will smiled, too, his eyes lighting at the prospect of sitting down behind Alicia’s beautiful baby grand. “But can we play in the back garden after?” 
Alicia laughed, remembering the astoundingly grubby but eminently satisfied look of the three the last time they’d been allowed the run of the back garden. The lawn and shrubbery were quite extensive for a home situated in the middle of London -- which was, of course, one reason for tonight’s invitation. Alicia said, “If your parents permit, yes, but you should probably wait until after we’ve had dinner. Now come in, all of you, and let’s have some music!”
 *
 The children had been on their best behavior, both prior to dinner and throughout the rather formal meal, sufficiently awestruck by their surroundings to be quieter and more careful than usual, and actually put into use the manners they’d been taught. Now they had been released to play in the back garden while the light lasted, much to Molly’s relief. The house was not at all “childproof”, for Alicia’s three children were grown and had been gone a dozen years or more. None of the three had elected to settle in the noisy bustle and excitement of London and now rarely even visited the metropolis. Alicia’s eldest, the current Lord Smallwood, had settled at the country estate with his wife and son, shortly after the death of his father; her younger son had emigrated to Australia in his early twenties and was still gainfully employed in the music industry when he wasn’t indulging in some extreme sport or other, to which his mother was forced to turn a blind eye or go mad with worry; and the daughter of the family had married a Scots physician and was settled in a picturesque little town outside Edinburgh, busily raising a pair of ginger-haired twin girls and apparently more than content with rural life. 
“It’s a shame your children don’t care for the city,” Molly commiserated, as Alicia stepped up beside her, near the window where she had been surreptitiously keeping an eye on her brood. “You must miss them.” 
Alicia gave a little shrug, though she was smiling as she looked out at the children in the garden. “Oh, I don’t know. It gives one a good reason to indulge in frequent holidays. Mycroft and I were in Scotland just last weekend, for example -- Allison and Amabel are growing up so quickly! And I believe it won’t be long before they and their cousins -- my oldest boy’s children -- will be able to come visit us in London, whether their parents accompany them or not.” 
Molly smiled. “That will be an event.” 
“To be sure. They’re already anxious to meet their little Holmes cousins.” But then Alicia chuckled. “Heavens, I can just see -- and hear -- Mycroft.” 
Molly gave a small snort of laughter. “We’ll have to get him a bottle of his favorite wine for the occasion. Or even brandy! But he’s been very welcoming to our little savages this evening. I was a bit surprised you dared to invite us, after that display at Baker Street yesterday. Not our finest moment.” 
“Don’t be absurd,” said Alicia. “Entirely understandable under the circumstances! And there’s not a mean-spirited bone among the lot of them. Really, Molly, you’ve done an amazing job with them.” 
“Well, thank you, but Sherlock has a great deal to do with it, too, you know. He’s a wonderful father.” 
“Marriage and fatherhood seem to have been the making of him, certainly,” Alicia agreed. “Gave him something to think about other than his beautiful, brilliant self, which was exactly what he needed. Still, who would have guessed, nine years ago?” 
“Well… I did,” Molly said with a smile. 
“So you did.” Alicia turned to Molly and considered her thoughtfully for a few moments, and finally Molly raised an inquiring brow. Alicia said, as if in reply. “Speaking of yesterday… not that that has anything to do with it, really, it merely reminded me why… well… I assure you I’ve had it in mind for months...” 
Amused at this uncharacteristic rambling, Molly asked,. “Alicia, are you quite alright? What did you have in mind?” 
Alicia took a deep breath through her nose, steadying herself, then glanced around before meeting Molly’s eyes again. “Do you like this house?” 
Molly laughed. “Well, of course. How could one not?” 
“Yes. Well. I like it, too. But it wants… a family. It was made for a family, all those years ago, and of course it was a splendid home for mine when the children were growing up, but… they’ve been gone a long time, now. And my husband… well. In any case, I was wondering… would you and Sherlock like to have it?” 
Molly stared, gave a choking exclamation of “What? Alicia, you--” 
“Rent free, of course,” Alicia interrupted, as though Molly hadn’t spoken. “Though there is still the upkeep -- I use a service now, and they are most efficient, if a trifle costly, though with the children you might want to hire some staff -- not necessarily live-in, though there is certainly room, there are quarters for at least two or three persons off the kitchen. And there are the taxes. But I’m given to understand the two of you could well afford those things and still keep Baker Street as an office for Sherlock, and as a second… ah… bolthole? Guest house? In any case, I don’t suppose you’d care to give it up. You have done such a lovely job renovating it since you and Sherlock married and the children began to arrive.” 
“Alicia! You cannot be serious!” 
“I am, though.” A little smile tugged at Alicia’s lips. “I have finally acquiesced to Mycroft’s wishes and consented to move into his house. There is some refurbishment already being done there in preparation.” 
“Oh!” Molly smiled. “That’s wonderful! Are you… that is--” 
“I have not yet agreed to marry him. We are still in negotiations on that point.” 
Molly laughed. “Oh, Alicia, you are… the completest thing. To keep The British Government on a lead for all these years…” 
Alicia chuckled, and looked quite smug. But she said, “So. Will you discuss it with Sherlock? Since little Alexandra came along it is all too apparent to those who love you that 221B Baker Street will soon be filled to bursting. Here there are enough bedrooms for each of your children to have his or her own with plenty left over for guests, a playroom, an office. I won’t be taking much of the furniture, just a few favorite pieces, and you can keep what you like, and replace the rest at your leisure. Daisy, and even the boys might like to pick out new furnishings for their bedrooms, for example. They still share a room at 221B, I believe?” 
“Yes,” said Molly, feeling quite dazed. “John’s old bedroom, though they’re getting so big… and we’ve been in a quandary about Lexie, now that she is getting older. She can’t stay in our room much longer.” 
“And here she won’t have to!” Alicia said cheerily. “There is a lovely little bedroom that would be perfect for her, just across from the master suite.” 
“The master suite!” Molly repeated, even more dazed. Not that she and Sherlock had not been blissfully happy in his bedroom… well, their bedroom, for almost a decade now. But still… 
“Would you like to come upstairs and take a look around? And I believe Mycroft has been presenting the proposal to Sherlock while we’ve been talking, and I haven’t heard any explosions. I take it as a good sign, don’t you?” 
“Oh, Heavens. I don’t know what to say, Alicia. Why… why?” 
“I don’t want to sell -- the property just gets more and more valuable. But I don’t want it to sit vacant, either. And lease it to strangers? I… I just don’t think I could do it. Think of it this way: you and Sherlock will be doing me a great favor.” Alicia laughed again at Molly’s apparently obvious bewilderment. “Come! Pull yourself together. The children will be fine out in the garden for half an hour. Let’s go see what Sherlock thinks, and the two of you can take a look at the rooms upstairs -- go all over the house, in fact, so you can make an informed decision.”
 *
 It was after midnight and he and Molly were in bed, but not sleeping. Far from it. They were both lying on their backs, staring at the deeply shadowed ceiling. Holding hands. Still both astounded at the way their world was being overturned. 
Sherlock thought one minute that he couldn’t do it, then the next he remembered that he would not be leaving 221B, precisely -- he would still spend a great deal of time there. And Baker Street was just as close to the boys’ school as the Kensington house. He could imagine his sons racing over when class let out, if he were not out on some case; doing their homework or playing until he should be ready to journey home. 
Home. 
They could still practice their music here, after school -- Mrs. Hudson would grieve for it, else. 
Ah, Hudders. What would she say to all this? She was getting on in years, of course. Didn’t make the journey up the stairs with tea and scones nearly as often lately. Visited her sister in Devon more, though that lady’s health was failing rapidly, from what he gathered. That would be a blow and no mistake.  And it might not be long before she herself… well. Time was a cruel master to all, even their timeless landlady (Not your housekeeper! -- he grinned briefly in the black night). 
There’d be room at the Kensington house for her, too, if it came to that. 
Ten bedrooms. Lord. Not quite as bad as Musgrave, but along those lines. 
They would have to acquire a housekeeper. 
And a second violin for Jon to keep at 221B. The spinet could stay, since Mycroft had a fine instrument of his own and Alicia had told them she was content to leave her baby grand with the House. William would like that -- and Molly. And the girls, eventually. Daisy was nearly old enough to begin lessons already. 
But… it still hurt to think of leaving. After all the work they’d put into 221B (and C) to create a suitable environment for their growing family. Of course, they had not realized just how much their family would grow when they’d begun the renovations. 
Four children. Who would have thought it, a decade back? And yet here they were with a houseful -- and nothing yet done to prohibit a potential fifth. They’d have to think seriously about that, or risk another surprise. Alexandra had been a delightful one, to be sure, but five children? It seemed excessive, to put it mildly. 
Though his parents wouldn’t mind. They reveled in their role, Mummy dismissing the bother with a wave of her hand, and merely hiring some neighbors’ daughters, lively teenaged girls, to help out when Will, Jon, and Daisy were to stay more than a night or two. And Lexie, soon enough. 
And he gave a slight snort of laughter at the thought of denying his own happiness. 
“What?” Molly whispered, turning her head on the pillow to peer at him, squeezing his hand.
He squeezed back. “I am… counting my blessings, I suppose.” 
She let go of his hand and turned onto her side to face him, fingers rather shyly smoothing the soft material of the ancient T-shirt he wore. She said, “Do you think the Kensington house would enhance them?” 
“I think it might. I think we’d be fools not to accept. Our children are not going to stop growing.” 
She chuckled. “No! Though sometimes I wish…” 
“What? That time would stop?” He moved to face her and put his hand on her waist. 
“Yes,” she said, and, closing the final gap, kissed him. 
He smiled beneath the kiss, bittersweet. 
He’d always known there were two sides of the coin called love, which was why he’d shied away from it for so many years, and even this issue, the inexorable march of time, was an ever-present weight. Pain was always part of the joy -- and perhaps made the joy all the sweeter. 
Doors closing. 
And others opening, down the way. 
“I’m a lucky man,” he whispered, when he could. 
“You are,” she whispered back. “And a brave one, too.” 
But he laughed softly at that, knowing that it was only she who allowed him to be so. Physical courage had never been an issue, and he had never lacked confidence in his intellectual abilities. But love… the one thing that truly mattered… that had required assistance. 
The loyalty and perception and faith of one Molly Hooper had been necessary to complete him. 
He reached up and brushed the auburn hair back behind the perfect pale pink shell of her ear, seeing the colors in his mind’s eye, even in the shadows. 
How long had it been since they’d made love in the clear light of morning, or through a long, golden afternoon? 
And yet, the darkness enhanced one’s other senses. 
Touch. 
Smell. 
Taste. 
“I love you,” he replied, still whispering. 
“I know,” she whispered back. 
And, sensing his need, she gave herself to him once again, in that well-practiced way she had… skill… infinite tenderness… an old comfort… 
Yet somehow, she could still surprise him… somehow it was always, always new.
 *
 Mycroft was stuck in his office, but Alicia was able to escape for a few hours on the evening of the Big Move, accepting the invitation to join his brother’s family, John and Rosie Watson, and Greg Lestrade for a celebratory dinner of Thai take-away, and to see the changes that had been wrought at the Kensington house. 
Alicia had moved out nearly two months before to facilitate matters, and was happier living with Mycroft than she had imagined possible -- and he seemed content, too. He had twice reiterated his proposal that they should marry, and she had almost accepted the last time. Perhaps it would not needlessly complicate their lives. Perhaps she was making too much of a fuss over it. She knew many women who were on their third or even fourth marriage -- and most of them were divorcees, a situation far more difficult than her own. Being a widow, with her children grown and getting on with their lives, really did simplify matters. 
She was still mulling over this subject as she arrived at her former residence, and did not move on until she’d exited the car and had entered the front gate. Walking up to the door, however, she noticed how neat the small front garden looked, with three new rose bushes, a new bed of pansies beside the porch, and the bits of lawn very well-tended. The front door had been repainted, too, a shiny black, and it now sported a knocker very similar to the one on the door of 221B Baker Street. 
She used the knocker in the manner for which it was intended, and it wasn’t more than twenty seconds before the door was thrown open by Jon, with Daisy just behind. 
“Aunt Alicia!” said Jon -- or half-shouted, really. “Wait till you see my bed! It’s even better than it looked in the shop!” 
“She has to see my room first!” cried Daisy in the tone of a four year old who’d gone without her nap and reached the limit of her patience with her older brother. She gripped Jon’s jumper with both hands and tried to pull him out of her way with some violence. 
But Sherlock had apparently heard Alicia’s knock, too and was coming up just behind the children. Seeing what was toward, he snapped, “Enough!” in so sharp a tone that Alicia gave a little start herself, and the children turned to him wide-eyed. 
Jon was carefully silent. Daisy, however, began to whinge, “But Daddy! Jon--” 
“But Daisy,” Sherlock interrupted, bending down to look her in the eye. “You’ve been skating on thin ice for the last hour and if you utter one more word you’ll find yourself staring at the most boring corner I can find in this house. Alone. Until I say you can move, not your mother or Uncle John. Do you understand?” 
Alicia tensed, fearful that the little girl would be rash enough to put her father to the test. But, thankfully, she did not. Daisy merely lowered her gaze, lip quivering. 
Sherlock straightened to face Alicia, “Welcome to the madhouse.” 
Alicia replied, sympathetically, “Long day?” 
“My God, you’ve no idea. Come into the dining room,” he said, leading the way. “The kitchen’s set up, and the bedrooms -- and they do look like something out of Parenting Magazine. But the tour can wait. We were just setting out dinner.” 
“I’m not hungry,” came a tiny, discontented voice from behind them. 
“Shut it!” came Jon’s hiss, just as Alicia glanced over her shoulder. Jon was giving Daisy’s arm a surreptitious squeeze in warning, even as he favored Alicia with an innocent smile. 
Sherlock wisely feigned deafness and led the way into the dining room.
 *
 Less than an hour later, John and Rosie had departed, Sherlock was discussing a case with Greg over some brandy, and Molly led the way up the staircase, carrying little Alexandra, Will and Jon racing ahead, and Alicia Smallwood bringing up the rear, hand in hand with a now smiling Daisy. 
Daisy’s smiles were in strong contrast to the pout she’d maintained throughout dinner, much to her father’s annoyance. Molly, tired as she was, had been rather amused, however, and had quietly reminded Sherlock that his daughter came by her pout honestly, and the avowed lack of hunger, too. John and Greg would have picked up on this, both friends hinting at numerous recollections of a certain consulting detective who’d been renowned for his petulance in the past, but they’d cut the teasing short, not because of Sherlock’s glare, but in consideration of the fact that Will, Jon, and Rosie had been all ears. 
But it wasn’t hard to understand why Daisy and her brothers were anxious to show off their new bedrooms. Lady Smallwood had accompanied them when they’d all gone furniture shopping a few weeks ago, and now at last she would see the results. 
Alicia had convinced Daisy that they should “save the best for last”, so Will’s room was shown first. He’d opted to keep the simple and elegant cherry furniture already in the room, only enhancing the collection with a new roll top desk to match. There were several movie posters on the walls, Star Wars, Avengers, and the like, and the framed print of the periodic table that had hung in Sherlock’s room for so many years held pride of place above his new desk. All the bedrooms had walk-in wardrobes and Will’s now held stacks of board games and neatly organized bins of Legos, action figures, and other small toys. Molly said to Alicia, “Admire it now -- it’s not likely to look this tidy for long!”, but Will, who was now ten and feeling very grown up as the eldest, said, “It will if I can keep the brats from destroying it!” 
Jon retorted, “Who needs your old stuff? Come on and see mine, Aunt Alicia!” 
Jon, too, had chosen a desk for homework and art projects, but had also fallen in love with a sturdy bed frame designed to look like a race car. Much to his delighted surprise, his mother had approved the purchase, though his father had been less pleased with the idea when he’d been informed. However, when the bed had arrived and Sherlock had seen its beauty and quality, he had become much more enthusiastic. He and Jon had run with the theme, and the walls were now adorned with a number of pictures and posters of race cars, and Sherlock had installed shelves for Jon’s collection of model cars. His beloved trains were relegated to the wardrobe, but Alicia noted that his old Thomas the Tank cuddle pillow was waiting for him on the new bed. 
Daisy’s room was last, and certainly by far the best, at least in Daisy’s opinion. The entire room had been redone in pink: pink furniture with lovely hand-painted flowers; fuzzy pink throw rugs; gauzy pink drapes on the window and canopied four-poster bed; and tiny pink rosebuds were patterned over the newly installed wallpaper. It might have been overwhelming, but Molly had insisted on using paler shades of pink along with a judicious use of white, and the result was really quite soothing. 
“Goodness!” exclaimed Alicia, taking it in. “It looks rather as though it dropped from Heaven!” 
Molly chuckled. “Now all it needs is an angel to take care of it!” 
“That’s me!” Daisy piped up. 
“Hmmm,” said Molly doubtfully. “I don’t know… there was that little display at the dinner table. An angel would not have behaved so -- or at least she would have apologized to her father for giving into her weariness, even after a long day of moving house.” 
Daisy looked between Molly and Lady Smallwood uncertainly as she worked this out, but then, coming to a decision, exclaimed, “I’ll be right back!” She ran from the room and could presently be heard yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!” as she pounded down the stairs.
 *
 At four in the morning, Sherlock was lying abed, caught up in a comfortable and eminently satisfied tangle with the wife of his bosom, the two of them having inaugurated the Kensington house in the best way imaginable, after recruiting their strength with a few hours’ sleep. 
“Now it’s on its way to being home,” Sherlock murmured into Molly’s ear. 
And she laughed, and turned her face to his, and kissed him. “I love you,” she said. 
“I know,” he returned with a smile. 
There were a great many more kisses, and some happy sighs, and cuddling: plenty of the most delightful clichés. But presently Molly extricated herself with a whispered, “Have to use the loo!” and Sherlock lay back contentedly against the pillows, stared at the shadowed ceiling, and thought once again what a lucky man he was. 
He must have started drowsing again, for suddenly Molly was there, whispering his name again. “Hmm?” he said, opening his eyes. The light was dim, but he could see she’d put on her dressing gown. 
“Get up for a minute!” she said softly. “You have to see the children!” 
He frowned, but did as she asked, throwing on his own dressing gown and padding after her over the thick carpet, following her out the door. 
“Are they alright?” he asked. “Lexie’s still asleep, isn’t she?” 
“Yes. It’s the others. Come see.” 
She didn’t pause at Daisy’s half open door, nor at Jon’s, but went straight over to Will’s room and motioned for him to peek in -- and there they were, all three of them curled up together in Will’s big bed, Daisy in the middle, and all of them sound asleep. 
Sherlock turned to Molly and made a silent pantomime of outrage. “Tell me again why we needed to move here? We might just as well be back at Baker Street!” 
But Molly shook her head, grinning. “They’ll get used to it. But now it’s really home for them, too. Don’t you see?” 
There was nothing for it. He had to take her in his arms and kiss her again. “I love you, Mrs. Holmes,” he said finally. 
“I love you, too,” she returned, a trifle breathless. 
The proper exchange. 
He took her hand up, said, “Come, then,” and, in the lovely silence before dawn, he led her back to bed.
 ~.~
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i-d-k-man · 7 years
Text
If I’m Being Honest...
[Tododeku, BNHA]
A03 Link
Chapter 1
Bright sunlight made Todoroki squint as he stepped through the hospital’s automatic doors.  
It was a beautiful day - surprisingly cool for June - with a pleasant breeze tossing Todoroki’s bangs.  Even the hospital had seemed cheerful, his mother smiling softly as Todoroki opened her window, then laughing behind her hand as the wind caught the curtain and smacked her son in the face.  
She had been laughing more and more lately, each giggle (and occasional snort) threading one more stitch across the fractures of the past between them.  After all, Todoroki had heard that broken bones grow back stronger.
Closing his eyes leisurely, Todoroki basked in the sunlight.
A short buzz in Todoroki’s pocket interrupted his musings, and he pulled his phone out.   Midoriya Izuku , the screen read.  Speaking of broken bones...
As Todoroki typed in his passcode, another buzz rattled the phone, also courtesy of Midoriya Izuku .  A perfectly suitable contact name, intentionally dull so as not to raise any suspicion.  Kirishima had more than provided a cautionary tale last year, when Ashido had discovered that his contact name for Bakugou was “BakuuuBabe”, accompanied by a rather unfortunate string of emojis (the water droplets especially stood out).   For nearly a month, a chorus of “Bakuuu!”s chimed whenever Bakugou entered a room or hallway, like some occult ritual.  
A couple charred streaks remained on the hallway floors to this day.  Needless to say, Todoroki wasn’t about to go putting Midoriya’s contact as ‘light of my life’, ‘reason green is my favorite color’, or any of those other intrusive thoughts that spun right ‘round like a record through Todoroki’s head whenever he was around the boy.   Midoriya Izuku was proper, professional.
(Midoriya Izuku somehow still managed to send a pleasant chill up Todoroki’s spine.)
>> hey man, u still wanna join us or should we just go ahead and start ? 
 Todoroki glanced at the time, 10:37.  Ah, he was running late.  The unofficial little “Men of Class 1-A Weekend Workout Squad” (or “Swole Team 6,” as Kirishima called it) usually started an hour or so before lunch.
 << Count me in, if nobody minds waiting.  I should be back on campus in half an hour.
 >> great !!    Midoriya replied almost immediately.    see u there, Freezer Burn :) 
 ‘Freezer Burn’, huh?  That was a new one.
It really was a beautiful day, so Todoroki let the butterflies flit freely within him as he basked in the sun at the train stop.  He liked when Midoriya called him nicknames.  Or called him his real name.  Or looked Todoroki’s way in general.  It didn't take much, with Midoriya.
The breeze smelled like roses.
A couple minutes passed, and the train pulled into the station, rumbling to a halt.  The doors slid open, revealing an angry couple, screeching hysterically.  The warmth of the sun dissipated as Todoroki boarded and found a seat, as far from the racket as possible. Todoroki sighed - the peace had been nice while it lasted.
“Don’t even try giving me that bullshit again, Subaru!”  some lady was yelling, her eyes cocooned in black eyeliner and long nails glittering in the fluorescent light.  “I’ve seen the way you look at her, it’s like a dog drooling over a piece of meat.  Or its own vomit.  You’re disgusting, Subaru, a fucking disgrace!”
A man - presumably Subaru - threw his arms up in frustration.  “For the last time, Mitsubishi, I told you that she’s just a friend.  I’d hang out with any of my friends at 3 am, that’s no big deal!  In fact, I’d love to go out late with you, but you insist on sleeping before midnight, like some senior citizen.”
“Yeah, so I love sleeping.  Sue me!”  Mitsubishi was really fuming now - it reminded Todoroki of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  “At least I do it alone.  Unlike you, you fuck!”
Bakugou!  The answer clicked in Todoroki’s head.  That’s who Mitsubishi reminded him of.  It must be the homicide in her eyes.
“T-that’s ridi- I can’t believe you’d say-!”  Subaru stammered.  “Mitsubishi, I would never.”
A wicked smile uncoiled across glossy red lips.  “Is that so?  Then why don’t we make ourselves 100% certain?”
Dread eclipsed Subaru’s face, and he began backpedaling both literally and figuratively, retreating into Todoroki’s personal space.  Great.  “N-now, there’s no need for extremes, babe.  Have I mentioned how sexy you look in that lipstick color?  Why would I ever even look at another girl when I have you!”
“Let’s find out,” Mitsubishi menaced, eyes positively sparking with ill-intent as she stretched out a hand towards her (soon to be ex, in Todoroki’s opinion) boyfriend.  Her expression was downright murderous - had Bakugou mentioned having an aunt in the area?
Any musings surrounding Mitsubishi and possible relation to Bakugou were dispelled as Todoroki felt his phone vibrating on his knee.  Midoriya Izuku.  Ahhh.  Todoroki put the phone up to his ear.  “Hello, Midor--”
Three things then happened at once.  
1)  The train cabin shuddered suddenly without warning.  
2)  Mitsubishi, caught off guard, lost her balance, desperately grabbing Todoroki’s shoulder in order to stay upright.
3)  A violent bolt of nausea crackled through Todoroki, and his head swam painfully.
Thankfully, the train returned to its original course as quickly as it had left it.  Todoroki’s stomach smoothly unwound, the nausea disappearing completely.  He breathed heavily, eyebrows knit in confusion as he rubbed his shoulder where Mitsubishi had speared him with her nails.   What the hell was that about?  Had he eaten something bad?
A loud gasp tore Todoroki from his thoughts.  Mitsubishi looked downright horrified, her hands slapping over her mouth.  “Oh shit, shit, shit!  Fuck, do you feel sick at- hey, wait.”  Her heavily outlined eyes popped even wider, if possible.  “Are you that Todoroki kid, from U.A.?”
“Yes,” Todoroki replied, curiously quickly.  He normally tried to avoid drawing attention in public.
“Oh, I see you all over Twitter!  You were so cool in the sports festival last year - I was totally rooting for you, by the way.”  Mitsubishi beamed widely, a small blotch of lipstick disrupting the glare of her white teeth.  Todoroki nodded weakly.  To think, just a minute ago he had been calling her a relative of Bakugou.  
Still smiling unnaturally wide, Mitsubishi beat a hasty retreat.  Subaru, for his part, looked even more horrified than before.  He opened his mouth, but Mitsubishi sent him another Bakugou glare, yanking her thumb and pointer across her lips harshly in the universal ‘zip your lips’ gesture.  
Todoroki frowned.  What was that about?  And wait, what was up with that whole nausea thing?
Todoroki opened his mouth to inquire as such, but Midoriya chose that moment to conduct his own questioning.  “Todoroki?  Are you there?  You stopped replying!”
The warm crackle of Midoriya’s voice, as always, quickly monopolized all of Todoroki’s brainpower, and soon enough, all thoughts of Mitsubishi and possible food poisoning had vanished.
“Yeah, I’m here.  Sorry, the train got a little bumpy for a second…”
Todoroki exited the train station as carefree as he had entered it.  It really was a beautiful day.  
An hour later, Todoroki walked into the men’s locker room, a towel and water bottle in tow.
“Hey, bro!”  Kirishima looked up from where he was tying his shoes, grinning.  “Glad you decided to come!”  
“Of course,”  Todoroki replied a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to say.  Kirishima always greeted him like it was Todoroki’s first time working out with them, while in reality he attended nearly every week.  Todoroki had actually been one of the founding members of the group (along with Midoriya and Iida), despite actually preferring to exercise alone.  
Working out in groups was great, is all.  Very important for both mind and body, building camaraderie.  And if Todoroki had had an ulterior motive for forming Swole Team 6, then nobody had to know.  
“Took you fucking long enough to get here, asshole,” Bakugou grumbled with a scowl, and in retrospect, Mitsubishi’s harshest expressions seemed downright welcoming.
“I’m so glad you could make it!”  Midoriya, the ulterior motive himself, beamed.  “Taking the train can be such a pain.”
Todoroki only allowed his mind to dwell on gooey thoughts concerning green hair and bright eyes for a moment before he forcibly ejected them.  “Thanks for waiting.  So, what are we doing today?”
Iida raised his hand and sprung upright.  “I would like to present an idea!  Last night, I had a dream about Mr. Aizawa, and--” 
“--Wow, how scandalous of our very own class president!  I never knew you liked older men, Iida,”  Kaminari interrupted, waggling his eyebrows.  
Iida glared at Kaminari sternly, adjusting his glasses.  “Not that kind of dream.  Which should go without saying.”  Another pointed glare.  “In it, I forgot to turn in a large assignment, and Mr. Aizawa erased my quirk forever as punishment.”  Iida shuddered.  “It was an unpleasant dream.  However, I began thinking about my abilities without my quirk, and I realized I’d like to work on my hand to hand combat skills without quirks.”  
“That’s not a bad idea,”  Tokoyami nodded.  “We should always be prepared for scenarios where our quirks are disabled.  Darkness surely lurks behind every corner.”  
The entire locker room chimed in agreement, collectively ignoring Tokoyami’s last comment.  Kaminari pulled a die from his pocket.  “We can use this to pair up.”
“Why..are you carrying around a die?”   Midoriya asked.
“I use them to do magic tricks,”  Kaminari winked.  “The ladies love them.”
Todoroki wasn’t so sure.  
After a couple minutes, the group had split up.  Todoroki ended up paired with Midoriya - of course he did.  Why would the universe ever cut him a break, especially when his self-control was already on the wobbly side, crippled by changing in the same room as Midoriya?  Sparring with his crush was a double-edged sword if ever one was forged, and there was no way he’d escape without any nicks.
“Hey, partner,”  Midoriya jogged over to Todoroki.  “This will be great training, don't you think?”
“I think. Yes, I do,”  Todoroki babbled, a little thrown off by Midoriya’s radiance, then wanted to die when he realized what he'd said.  God, there was no way he'd survive this, at this rate.  The sword was already unsheathed.   
Yet, impossibly, with 15 minutes past, Todoroki had managed to avoid any overtly self-incriminating actions.  The sparring session couldn't make up its mind between rapture and torture.  
A pro:  Midoriya unconsciously licking his lips in concentration.
A con:  Todoroki taking a hit every time Midoriya unconsciously licked his lips in concentration.
Pro:  getting to ogle Midoriya’s neck when he tossed his head back to drink water.
Con:  resisting the urge to kiss Midoriya’s neck when he tossed his head back to drink water.
Pro:  falling on top of Midoriya on more than one occasion, their bodies pressed close.  
Con:  desperately reciting mathematical formulas in his head to avoid a more, ahem, prominent reaction when Todoroki fell on top of Midoriya, their bodies pressed close.
Pro:  practicing hand-to-hand combat technique, one of Todoroki’s rustier skills.
Con:  Todoroki was not focusing on his hand-to-hand combat technique, one of his rustier skills.
Stars twinkled in Todoroki’s skull as Midoriya landed a particularly nasty right hook - Aoyama would have been delighted.  
“C-crap, Todoroki, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard!”  Midoriya’s eyebrows were knit in concern.  “Does it hurt?”
“No” , Todoroki lied - or at least tried to.  Somehow, the word wouldn’t come out.  Todoroki frowned.  “No”, he said, more firmly.  Still, nothing came out but a raspy exhale.  
Something akin to panic began rising in Todoroki.  Had the punch fucked with his vocal chords?  There was no way, right?!  He was just overreacting.  
Midoriya, meanwhile, was wringing his hands anxiously.  “T-todoroki?  Oh my god.  Please don’t tell me I gave you a concussion.  Do you feel alright?”
Crap, he hadn’t meant to worry Midoriya.  Todoroki took a deep breath, forcibly calming himself.  Just say ‘Yes.’  He took one last deep exhale, focused, and…
An empty huff croaked out of Todoroki as agony suddenly cracked through his skull, and nausea slammed his body like a [door in Paranormal Activity].  Holy fuck, was he having an aneurysm?  Todoroki groaned as a fresh wave of pain bowled him over, his head on the verge of imploding.  
Midoriya appeared to be panicking, grabbing Todoroki’s shoulders.  Todoroki yelped again, his side splitting.  Fucking hell, he could hardly even see Midoriya through this haze in his head.  His stomach tweaked in all the wrong ways.  
“No!” Todoroki shouted desperately, completely involuntarily.  Midoriya’s eyes, all watery, widened in confusion at his outburst.  “No, I don’t feel ‘alright’.”
And just like that, all traces of pain vanished.  What the hell?!  
“Todoroki?  S-shouto?”  Midoriya’s voice and eyes wobbled in unison.  “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Todoroki whispered, with complete ease.  Huh?  Unease settled in Todoroki’s bones.  He had absolutely no idea what was happening to him.  
Absently, Todoroki caught a vague scent of smoke, and a breeze tickled his side.  Shit, he must have partially singed through his shirt because of the pain.
“Do you feel stable?”  Midoriya implored, hands tightening their grip on Todoroki’s shoulders.  
“Yes,”  Todoroki replied again, perfectly fine.  
“Oh my god, thank heavens,” Midoriya sobbed, wrapping Todoroki in a desperate hug.  Todoroki could feel the boy’s heart pounding through his charred shirt, which was, well… If Todoroki didn’t feel so freaked out, he certainly would’ve ascended to cloud 9 by now.  
“I’m so, so sorry, Todoroki!”  Midoriya squeezed him even tighter, hands balling up against Todoroki’s back.  “Y-you just normally dodge those right hooks, and I banked on that and put too much force into it, and then you started grabbing your head and smoking and curling up and oh my god it was so terrifying, and I’m so sorry, and I would never ever hit you that hard on purpose, you know that right??”  
Todoroki nodded, Midoriya’s soft hair tickling his chin.  He focused on the warm, solid body pressed up against his and melted into the embrace, pulse relaxing.  Whatever the hell that episode had been, it was over now.  
Except-- the beginnings of a headache began unfurling in Todoroki’s temples and he stiffened.  As soon as he opened his mouth to suck in a nervous breath, however, he found himself murmuring “Of course I know that, Izuku” into Midoriya’s hair.  
Todoroki’s burgeoning headache dissipated as his confusion returned in full force.  He hadn’t meant to say that, even though it was true.  And wait, had he just called Midoriya ‘Izuku’?
A slight flush rose in Todoroki.  He really hadn’t meant to say that.  What was happening to him?!  Maybe I do have a concussion...    
Todoroki broke the hug, taking a few tentative steps back.  He still didn’t entirely trust his body to not belly flop into a swimming pool of agony at any moment.
Specks of ash from Todoroki’s shirt stuck to Midoriya’s own.  The boy picked at them absently.  “You, uh, did you just call me ‘Izuku’?”
“Ah, um, yes.”  Todoroki flushed further.  “I wasn't thinking.  I'm sorry.”
“No, no!”  Midoriya’s hands waved in protest.  “It's..nice.  You should call me Izuku all the time.”  
“Huh?”  Todoroki breathed, quite eloquently.    
“I said,”  oh man, apparently it was now Midoriya’s turn to glow bright red,  “that you should call me Izuku.  If you want.”
“Oh,” Todoroki replied, lamely. “I do want to. And call me Shouto. -only if you want to.  Too.”
“Whatever you say, Shouto,” Midoriya grinned, and began gathering his things. “I think we’ve done enough for today. I'll see you at lunch!”
“Yeah. See you.”  
Midoriya looked expectant.  Oh.  “...Izuku.”
The name melted pleasantly in Todoroki’s mouth, like cotton candy, and Midoriya bounced on his heels.
“And just so you know-”
Todoroki paused with his water bottle halfway to his face, glancing at Midoriya.
“Just so you know,” Midoriya repeated, eyes flickering down.  “You should, uh, put on another shirt before lunch. Yeah. Bye!”
Midoriya left, and Todoroki looked down at his tattered top, only half remaining.
The walk back to the locker room was occupied by Todoroki berating himself for allowing himself to think that Midoriya’s cheeks had glowed ever-so-brighter with his parting comment.
If wishes were fishes, Todoroki could open a goddamn aquarium.
Back in the locker room, Todoroki mindlessly slipped on a fresh shirt, as if his brain had subconsciously labeled Midoriya’s suggestion as it's top priority.  
It wasn't far fetched.  
Todoroki’s stomach surged softly as his mind replayed his inexplicable agony earlier, and a cold sweat broke out over his sweaty skin.
Too freaked out to shower just yet, Todoroki collapsed onto a sink in the locker room, knuckles white as they clenched the porcelain.  What’s wrong with me?  How can the headaches appear and disappear so quickly?
Mismatched eyes found themselves in the mirror, and Todoroki stared intensely at the glass, imploring his own reflection for answers.
Does the pain only activate with questions, like some strange cousin of Shinsou’s quirk?  But the pain only happened twice, and Izuku definitely asked more than two questions.
Unfortunately, Todoroki’s reflection seemed just as confused as he was, and offered no solutions.  The glass fogged as Todoroki sighed in frustration.
Is it even the work of a quirk in the first place?  I could just be getting random headaches...  Midoriya did hit me pretty hard.
“Checking yourself out, Todoroki?”  Kirishima’s grinning face joined Todoroki’s in the mirror, creating a pretty decent rendition of the comedy/tragedy mask.  Todoroki stiffened - he hadn’t heard his classmate enter and wasn’t quite in the mood for conversation.  
“I, I wasn’t checking myself out.”  Todoroki felt the strange urge to clarify.  Thankfully, no tendrils of pain began unfurling in his head.  So it's not question-based?
“Sure you weren’t,”  Kirishima grinned even wider.  “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the entire rest of the class has got that covered.  Hell, more like the entire rest of the country.”
Well that was...generous.  “Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it, Pretty Boy.”  Kirishima crowded closer to Todoroki in the mirror, eyes scanning Todoroki’s reflection.  “Damn dude, speaking of that iconic face, what the hell happened to your jaw?  That’s shaping up to be quite the bruise.”
Ah, Kirishima was right - only then did Todoroki notice the throbbing along his jawline.  “I accidentally let my guard down during Midoriya and I’s spar.  It was a stupid mistake.”
Kirishima clapped an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders.  “Don’t be too hard on yourself there, Stud Muffin, everybody loves a guy with some battle scars.  It shows moxie.  Besides, I know exactly what you're talking about.”  Kirishima winked.
Todoroki simply nodded, a bit lost.  
“So tell me, Hot Stuff - or should it be Cold Stuff?  I’m gonna go with Lukewarm Stuff.  So tell me, Lukewarm Stuff, just what did Midoriya do to cost you that bruise?”  He winked again.  Kirishima seemed to like winking.  “My bet is he got hot and took his shirt off.”  
Speaking of getting hot, the air in the room suddenly felt quite oven-like, and Todoroki desperately battled three scrapbooks’ worth of mental images.  Midoriya did tend to shed clothing when warm, a fact that reflected quite poorly on Todoroki’s faint, gay heart.  
Todoroki gripped the sink even tighter, refusing to encourage Kirishima with an answer.  
Kirishima bulldozed on, encouraged.  “Don’t worry, man, there's no shame here.  I of all people understand the deadly combo of shirtlessness and sweat.  It’ll really get ya.  For a while I’d nearly turn Katsuki down if he asked to spar because I knew I'd end up ogling and leave with a game of connect-the-bruises across my body.”  Kirishima hummed.  “Plus he's just really fucking good at hand-to-hand.”
Todoroki didn’t even have a chance to become flustered before that terrifying, now-familiar flutter of nausea laced through his gut.  His jaw throbbed as he grit his teeth in apprehension.
Kirishima seemed to notice his unease.  “Woah, dude, I’m sorry if I went a little too far there.  I really am!”  The nausea grew, becoming just this side of excruciating.  “In my own dumbass way, I was just trying to let you know that I’ve been in your situation and I’d be more than happy to-”
“His pants were tight!”  Todoroki spit out, feeling the nausea recede.  “Midoriya was wearing these ridiculous pants that started clinging everywhere when he sweat, and…”  
A palm swung up to stop Todoroki.  “Say no more, Dreamboat.  We’re more than on the same wavelength.  Katsuki likes to wear these thin tank tops that really fuck me up.”  Kirishima sighed fondly.  “In a good way.”
The mirror, helpfully, supplied Todoroki with knowledge of just how lost he looked, and Kirishima blessedly took mercy.
“I'm oversharing, aren't I?”  He scratched his neck sheepishly.  
Flatly:  “Yes.”
“That's my bad.  Again, I just want you to know that I've been there, and I get it.  I know you like Midoriya for way more than that sort of thing, don't worry.  Mind above the gutter, yeah?”
Todoroki opened his mouth to demand how Kirshima had figured him out, to deflect, to agree - practically anything except what actually came out.  “Not all of the time, no.  I fantasize about Midoriya quite regularly, sometimes even in my dreams.”  
Oh god, oh hell no.  Why did he keep saying stuff like this, stuff that was way too...personal?  And true, disgustingly true.  Kirishima, bless him, just laughed awkwardly.
Todoroki turned red and away from Kirishima, snatching up his things.  “I’m.  I'll be in my room.  Alright bye.”
Kirishima didn't even protest.
Outside of the locker room, Todoroki collapsed against the wall, clutching his water bottle to his heaving chest.
Just what - to reiterate - the actual fuck was going on?
Thanks for reading!  :D
60 notes · View notes
swipestream · 5 years
Text
Sensor Sweep: John Carter Miniatures, The Metal Monster, Carcosacon, Call of the Wild Art, Robot Man
RPG (Modiphius): The John Carter Swords of Mars miniatures line is made up of 32mm scale high quality multi-part resin miniatures which come complete with resin scenic bases. The Swords of Mars campaign book includes a set of rules to play out battles involving squads and heroes, fighting across moving airships, desolate ruins or the beautiful palaces of Barsoom.
  Writing (One Last Sketch): A long while back, I wrote a short essay called “Writing the city” that I never published, yet the misgivings that went into that essay keep stirring my brain. The main question is this:
  In literary criticism of fantasy, why are long descriptions of the natural world and farmland or villages often labeled as boring, but when China Miéville fills page upon page with adjective-laden descriptions of architecture, this passes without comment, or even gets praise?
  Art (DMR Books): Fifty-five years ago today, Wayne Francis Woodard, better known as “Hannes Bok,” died in poverty. He was friends with, and had his work admired by, the likes of Ray Bradbury, A. Merritt, August Derleth, Farnsworth Wright and others.
I must confess that I’ve always been ambivalent about Bok’s art. While I find some of his work truly excellent, I consider much of it average or even poor.
    Fiction (DMR Books): It’s fascinating how the paths we take in life shape who we’ll become and what we’ll leave behind, when–on that fateful day–we’re blasted by the emerald lightnings of The Emperor’s Guard at the Pit of the Metal Monster.
For me, the dregs of life will be a room full of books.  For A. Merritt, luckily for us, it was his wonderful novels, few tho’ they may be, and the short stories and poetry he crafted during a relatively short lifetime.
But, whereas the ashes of our mortal clay will be scattered before the feet of the Metal Things
    Fiction (Gardner F. Fox): This is book #011 on the list of 160 books that Gardner Francis Fox wrote from 1953 to 1986. I will not be working on
Blank bookcover with clipping path
books in the order as Mr. Fox wrote them. I am doing the book cover designs based on when the transcribers who are assisting me, finish one. As they complete a book, it will be the newest release, so it will get a new book cover design. I also have to go back and replace the photo-bashed covers I made when I first started The Gardner Francis Fox Libraryin 2017.
  Conventions (William King): So that was Carcosacon and it was a lot of fun. A bunch of us drove up from Prague to Czocha Castle for a weekend of games, panels and live action roleplaying all dedicated to the Cthulhu mythos. We got there on Friday morning, checked in and were gaming by one o’ clock that afternoon in a library that looked like something from Dennis Wheatley complete with a secret doorway hidden in a bookcase that swung out to reveal a spiral staircase up to yet another gaming room. I thought there never was a better setting for a Call of Cthulhu session but I was wrong, and I’ll get to that later.
  RPG (Sorcerers Skull): Gygaxian Esoteric Planes: Places that often bear the names and some of the characteristics of various historical conceptual realms but are more defined in their characteristics. They are inhabited by supernatural beings that tend to behave like mundane beings, the only difference being “power.” Geography tends to be more important than in conceptual realms; planes can be mapped to a degree, and travel along associated terrain may be necessary.
Reviews (Don Herron): Our resident expert in everything Arkham returns to review a new (if repurposed) book on the fabled press. John D. Haefele certainly burst fully-formed on the scene with his A Look Behind the Derleth Mythos, but he’s done a ton of stuff on the subject, most recently a run of articles appearing in Crypt of Cthulhu. See his Amazon page for a thorough list of books, chapbooks, monographs, web and print surveys. He knows the turf.
        Cinema (Superversive SF): Can the story take a place on a bus rather than on a space ship without being fundamentally different?
Outland, an obscure movie starring Sean Connery at the low point of his career, cannot be set on a bus, but it most definitely did not need to be placed in space. It is, no pun intended, fully grounded in the traditional western genre in the theme, plot and pacing. There are even shotguns. Lots of shotguns. In a pressurized environment. All that’s missing is the tumbleweeds. We do get treated to the sight of some gyrating balls of… something, but the less said of those the better.
      Gaming (Rampant Games): In case you haven’t figured it out, I am a Virtual Reality enthusiast. I’ve been looking forward to the coming of consumer-level Virtual Reality since the early 90s. I expected it a lot sooner than it got here, to be honest, but I’m glad it’s here now. I love that I get to work with it as part of my day job. Anyway, I have been willing to sink a bit of cash into it this hobby… to the extent that I pre-ordered a Pimax 5K+. Offering about the highest resolution out there and 170+ degrees of field-of-view, it seemed like a game-changer for PC-based VR.
    Cinema (Men of the West): First, the good: As you would expect from any sort of Peter Jackson flick, it has gorgeous F/X. The visuals and modeling for the various vehicles and aircraft are marvelous. The colorizing to help set the tone, the costuming, etc., are all spot on. The acting was decent. The set design was pretty cool. The basic premise for the story was decent if absurd (mobile cities on treads?), with an interesting twist on the post-apocalypse genre. They had a fun dig at the near illiteracy of today’s people in the “screen age” (showing iPhones, etc), saying “they didn’t write much down.”
  Author Interview (Superversive SF): What does superversive mean to you? Superversive is the building of things never seen before to heights unreached. It builds where others have torn down, and gathers together all good things to be made into something greater and more wonderful than they were before. Where before one might find a blasted heath, one finds a garden growing by the Grace of God.
  Review (Fantasy Literature): As I mentioned in my review of Gray Lensman, Book 4 of E.E. “Doc” Smith’s famed six-part LENSMAN series, that installment, although it followed its predecessor, Galactic Patrol, by mere seconds storywise, was actually released over 1½ years later; 20 months later, to be exact. Book 5 of the series, Second Stage Lensman, would follow the same scheme. Although the events therein transpire just moments after the culmination of Book 4, readers would in actuality have to wait a solid 22 months to find out where author Smith would take them next.
        Art (Northwest Adventures): Jack London’s The Call of the Wild was serialized in The Saturday Evening Post from June 20 to July 18, 1903, only five years after the Stampede of 1898. It was an instant classic and the quintessential novel of the Klondike. The five-parter was accompanied by illustration from two artists, Charles Livingston Bull (1874-1932) and Philip R. Goodwin (1881-1935). Bull was hitting his stride, illustrating books for Charles G. D. Roberts as well as magazine covers but Goodwin was only 22 and just starting out on his career that would include illustrating Teddy Roosevelt’s book on hunting. The two artists together is a nice blend of Bull’s stylized poster art (which remind of Kay Nielsen’s fairy tale art) and Goodwin’s realistic dog forms.
  Art (One Last Sketch): No other imagined world has generated as much illustration as The Lord of the Rings. Considering the sheer amount of artistic material to draw from, however, even before the live action adaptations came out in 2001, we already had a consensus “look” for Middle Earth in John Howe and Alan Lee’s paintings. Why the collective consensus for what Middle Earth should look like coalesced around these two has a host of factors, one being how prolific they were, how often they appeared on book covers and ancillary material, and the last being their obvious skill.
  Fiction (Pages Unbound): You may have some familiarity with The Silmarillion and seen these newer works being published that are part of it. But maybe you are not sure where they came from, or how they fit in to the larger work. Here is the scoop: you can pick up any one of the three separate works from The Silmarillion that have been released as standalone volumes and enjoy it on its own. They are The Children of Hurin, Beren and Luthien, and The Fall of Gondolin. Some say the reading order should be publication order, but you would not be wrong to read Beren and Luthien first.
  Obituary (Washington Post): George Stade, a Columbia University literary scholar who became an early champion of “popular” fiction within the academy and worked as a critic, editor and novelist, most notably with the grisly satire “Confessions of a Lady-Killer,” died Feb. 26 at a hospital in Silver Spring, Md. He was 85.
  Tolkien (Alas Not Me): The Mouth of Sauron’s encounter with the Captains of the West in The Lord of the Rings has been reminding me of the Green Knight’s visit to King Arthur’s court in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
The initial set-up is quite different, naturally.  The Green Knight comes in uninvited without any introduction or explanation — the reader is thus in the same boat as members of Arthur’s court — whereas Tolkien gives us some backstory on the Lieutenant of the Tower of Barad-dûr when he comes out in response to the heralds’ challenge.  The Green Knight arrives alone on a color-coordinated steed that seems an ordinary animal except for its hue, but the poet hints the knight himself might possibly be supernatural (“Half etayn in erde I hope þat he were”).  Intriguingly, the similarly color-coordinated fellow who approaches Aragorn & Co. is almost exactly the inverse, i.e., a living man on a possibly supernatural mountm
    Sensor Sweep: John Carter Miniatures, The Metal Monster, Carcosacon, Call of the Wild Art, Robot Man published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames
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bronovafourteen · 6 years
Text
Nina
Nikolina Bronova Mori, professionally known as Nina, is a brazilian and naturalized american, bulgarian and japanese singer-songwriter, composer, multi-instrumentalist, record producer, dancer, choreographer and actress under Columbia Records. She is amongst a small group of entertainers who have been honored with an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony Award. Nina holds the record for the artist with the most singles to top both the Billboard Hot 100. She is also the only artist to have all albums debut at the top of the Billboard 200.
Profile
Full name: Nikolina Bronova Mori (Николина бронова 森). Birth date: December 7th 1996 (21). Birth place: São Paulo, Brazil. Zodiac sign: Sagittarius. Chinese zodiac sign: Fire rat. Height: 1.68cm. Weight: 52kg. Blood type: O. Voica type: Soprano. Vocal analysis: Star.
Curiosities
Animals: Miku (pomeranian) and Misha (rottweiler). Body type: Theatrical romantic (medium height, hourglass and voluptuous figure, medium to big bustline, small waist, fleshy arms and legs, small and delicate bone structure with a soft sharpness). Cup size: B. Ethnicity: Brazilian, bulgarian, italian and japanese. Face type: Classic (balanced and symmetrical). Family: Shigeru Mori (father), Ekaterina Konstantinova Bronova (mother), Elena Bronova Mori (older sister) and Karolina Bronova Mori (younger sister). Hobbies: Reading, drawing, listening to music, singing, dancing, watching movies and television series, exercising, traveling, collecting pens and notebooks, taking pictures, riding her bycicle and writing music. Instruments: Acoustic guitar, banjo, banjo ukulele, baritone guitar, bass guitar, clarinet, classical guitar, drums, electric bass guitar, electric guitar, flamento guitar, flute, harmonica, harp, keyboard, piano, synthesizer and violin. Languages: Bulgarian, english, french, japanese, korean, mandarin, portuguese, russian and spanish. Religion: Catholic. Sexual orientation: Heterosexual. Shoe size: 7.5 (US).
Early life
Nikolina was born in Ribeirão Preto, the daughter of a bulgarian lawyer and a japanese farmer. She lived in Brazil until the age of seven, when she moved with her mother and sisters to Bulgaria, following her parent’s divorce. From the age of five, she wanted to become a singer, and took various musical classes throughout her early years. She moved to the United States as an exchange student in 2010 and, after posting music covers on YouTube, she was discovered by a representative of Columbia Records and signed to the label.
Personality
Positive traits: Adventurous, brave, broad-minded, charming, compassionate, creative, determined, diplomatic, faithful, freedom-loving, friendly, good-humored, honest, humanitarian, independent, intellectual, intuitive, jovial, loyal, magnetic, modest, optimistic, philosophical, realistic, self-confident, sensitive, sympathetic, warmhearted and well-liked. Negative traits: Competitive, compulsive, greedy, escapist, idealistic, irritable, obsessive, resentful, restless, selfish and a worrier.
She is known for being very nice to her fans. Many of them report being well treated by her whenever they meet.
Physical appearance
Black and straight hair. Green eyes. Fair skin. Curvy. Dimples. Two piercings on her left ear and three on her right ear. One tattoo on her left ribcage (“to the stars to the moon”) and one tattoo on her right shoulder (japanese writing of “Mori”) and one tattoo on her right wrist (written “honey”).
Vocals
Critic Of Music
Vocal type: Spinto-soprano. Positives: Legendary interpretive wit, thanks to incredible knowledge of musical phrasing and vocal pedagogy. A defining, trademarked voice. Incredible breath support, showing no signs of fatigue and carrying extensive legato passages with ease. Incredible utilization of dynamics, using all volumes from fortissimo to pianissimo and everything in between to craft incredible phrases. Great control of her passagio and incredibly balanced instrument. Powerful, resonant belts that are mixed with head voice, that are well-supported and healthy, projecting massive resonance with ease. A master of breath support. Able to rapid fire mid and upper belts. Her low notes are also well supported, dark and full. The head voice is resonant and piercing, full and fluid. Her vibrato is well developed and rolling, and can be executed with ease. Her timbre is velvety and luscious and makes for a perfect midrange. She is also able to sing complex melisma in all registers, with every register well connected. Her falsetto is light and sweet. She also has unparalleled register transitions, switching from chest to head, head to whistle, and even chest to whistle without as much of a pause. Pitch perfect in 99% of performances. Technically, a brilliant singer. Negatives: Occasionally raises her larynx in upper-belts.
Albums and singles
Yours Truly (2014) Into You Love Me Harder One Last Time Problem (ft. Big Sean) The Way Too Little Too Late
Vivid (2015) All I Want For Christmas Emotions I Wanna Dance With Somebody Love On Top No One Physical
Revival (2016) Bills, Bills, Bills Bootylicious If I Were A Boy Independent Women Say My Name Single Ladies
Here, My Dear (2017) Attention Can’t Feel My Face Diamonds Let’s Groove September Sexual Healing
Fever (2018) Bad Liar Dangerous Woman Do I Wanna Know? Psycho Killer Take Me To Church Wild Thoughts
Portrait (2020) Back To Black Chandelier Drunk In Love Love On The Brain Stone Cold Un-Break My Heart
Spirit (2022) Hello Rolling In The Deep Send My Love Set Fire To The Rain Someone Like You
Who I Am (2025) Because Of You Bleeding Love Fallin’ Halo If I Ain’t Got You I’m Not The Only One
Time (2028) Can’t Make You Love Me I Have Nothing I Look To You I Will Always Love You When We Were Young
How Does That Grab You? (2030) Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) Dust In The Wind Every Breath You Take Killing Me Softly The Sound Of Silence
Katerina (2032) Bohemian Rhapsody Come Together I Want To Break Free Sign Of The Times Somebody To Love We Are The Champions
Waiting To Exhale (2035) Always On My Mind Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood Hurt The Blower’s Daughter Wonderwall
The Diary Of Nina (2038) Can’t Help Falling In Love From This Moment On Here Comes The Sun Loving You Yesterday You’re Still The One
Glassheart (2040) A Change Is Gonna Come All The Man I Need Cruisin’ Greatest Love Of All Let’s Stay Together Say A Little Prayer
Bird Of Happiness (2045) Dreamlover Hero Love Takes Time Someday Vision Of Love We Belong Together
These Are My Blues (2050) At Last Feeling Good I Put A Spell On You Respect Something’s Got A Hold On Me This Is A Man’s World
Albums and non-title tracks
Yours Truly (2014) Bad Decisions Be My Baby Closer Fools For Him Gone And Found Greedy Higher How I Want Ya (ft. Jordan Fisher) How To Be A Heartbreaker I Don’t Care Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart Let Me Love You Never Wanna Know Only One Paper Heart Right There Sometimes Tattooed Heart Tears (ft. Clean Bandit) Touch Me Wild You’ll Never Know
Vivid (2015) All That Baby, I Body Language Boy Problems Can’t Sleep Love Come Alive (ft. Toro Y Moi) Cry Dorothy Dandrige Eyes (ft. Esperanza Spalding) Dust Is Gone Finesse First Time Gimme Love Hard To Say No I Didn’t Just Come Here To Dance Maiden Making The Most Of The Night Primetime (ft. Miguel) Run Away With Me Say You’ll Be There Schoolin’ Life Store The One Too Good To Say Goodbye We Were Rock & Roll Your Type
Revival (2016) 10-20-40 Be Alright Countdown Cyber Stockholm Syndrome Ego Fantasy (ft. Amber Liu) Gave It Away Glow If I Ever Fall In Love (ft. Janelle Monáe) I Got The Juice (ft. Pharrell Williams) Knew Better Listen No Mythologies To Follow No Tears Left To Cry Oh No! Primadonna Girl Red In The Grey Ridin’ (ft. A$AP Rocky) Rose Gold Simple Things Slow Love Tears (ft. Clean Bandit) Ugly West Coast What An Experience
Here, My Dear (2017) 6 Inch (ft. The Weeknd) Adorn After The Love Has Gone A Lonely Night Bound Broken Clocks Coffee Done For Me Emotion Every Kind Of Way Falling For You Fetish (ft. Schoolboy Q) Fire Rides Heart Less In Your Bed Love On The Weekend Lovely (ft. Khalid) Ocean Eyes Passionfruit Perfect Sir Greendown Somebody Else Something About Us (ft. Daft Punk) Sure Thing Thinking About You Too Good (ft. Alan Love) Touch Me
Fever (2018) After The Storm (ft. Bootsy Collins and Tyler, The Creator) Are You Satisfied? Baby Boy Birth In Reverse Black Sheep Cupid’s Chokehold Empty Nesters Faster Forrest Gump I Wanna Be Yours Locked Inside Miracle Alligner Night By Night No Control One For The Road Puppet Love Redbone Run Baby Run Self Control Someone New Stockholm Syndrome Strange Mercy To Be Alone Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? Yeah Right Your Teeth In My Neck Zombie
Portrait (2020) Belly Ache Betsy On The Roof Bored Cake Copycat Django Sambo Eyes On Fire Hostage I Don’t Wanna Be You Anymore If These Walls Could Talk Liability Love Is A Losing Game Nicest Thing Pilgrim Reality Russian Roulette Serial Killer Talk Me Down Tears Dry On Their Own Teen Idle Tunnel Vision (ft. Shamir) Victory Until We Bleed Use Me You Don’t Do It For Me Anymore You Know I’m No Good
Spirit (2022) 57821 (ft. Deep Cotton) All I Ask Dark Paradise Hometown Glory I Can’t Get Started I Don’t Trust Myself With Loving You It Takes A Lot To Know A Man Love In The Dark Lucky Million Years Ago Never Been In Love Before River Lea Rumour Has It Sad Girl Salvation Speechless Sweetest Devotion Tightrope (ft. Big Boi) Turning Tables Venus Video Games Vultures Water Under The Bridge You Young And Beautiful
Who I Am (2025) Almost Is Never Enough As Long As You Love Me Bad Religion Cannonball Crave You Draw Your Swords Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic Fireproof Freak Home Just A Boy Let’s Get Lost Listen Malibu Midnight Bottle Moonlight Oh, Maker! Older Chests Start Of Time Talking To The Moon Tell Me That You Love Me Training Wheels Valentine Volcano Whatever You Like
Time (2028) 9 Crimes All Of You Can’t Pretend Caught Don’t Look Back Emotion Illuminated I Miss You Jealous Lies Little Boy Blue Love Nick Of Time Nirvana Nitesky (ft. Robot Koch) Nostalgia One (ft. U2) Palace Pink (ft. Grimes) Religion Remedy The Chain Wolves Wondaland
How Does That Grab You? (2030) All I Have To Do Is Dream Build Me Up Buttercup But Not For Me Can’t Live Without Your Love Heal The World I Fall In Love Too Easily If I Had You I’ll Be There I’m A Ruin I’m Gonna Find Another You Immortal It’s My Party Look For The Silver Lining Look Into My Eyes Make You Feel My Love My Funny Valentine Only Hope Pink Matter Quickie Slow Dancing In A Burning Room Solo (ft. Andre 3000) The Touch Of Yours Lips Want You Back Wonder You Don’t Own Me
Katerina (2032) Bloodsport Boogieman Come To Mama Holding On Ivy Japanese Denim Killer Queen Land Locked Blues Leave Me Lonely (ft. Macy Gray) Like Real People Do My Favorite Faded Fantasy Neon Valley Street Pain Please Don’t Leave Me Regret Sally Ride Sinner’s Prayer Sober Slow It Down Somebody Told Me Stop The World Touch When You Were Young Who Knew Yellow Brick Road
Waiting To Exhale (2035) A Heartbreak All The Way Down Blood Dazed In Daydreams Delicate Elephant Everywhere I Go Freedom (ft. Kentorey Johnson) Guiding Light Heart Beats Slow I Don’t Want To Change You I’m Afraid In Chains Love Me Like I’m Not Made Of Stone Medicine No Such Thing One Flight Down Pink + White Put Your Number In My Phone Rootless Tree Run Say It To Me Now Ship To Wreck The Animals Were Gone You Don’t Have To Go
The Diary Of Nina (2038) Big Jet Plane Blackbird Burning Love Clementine Color Me In Creature Fear Dogs Don’t Know Why Falling Slowly Flightless Bird, American Mouth Gravity Happily He Was Too Good To Me Love Has No Pride Lua My Ideal Paper Aeroplane Slow Dancing In A Burning Room Stand Tall Strong The Long Day Is Over The Moon Song Time After Time Waiting On The World To Change
Glassheart (2040) All This And Heaven Too A Woman’s Worth Believe In You And Me Crazy, Classic, Life Follow Rivers Hardest Of Hearts Honeymoon Avenue I Am Every Woman It’s Always You Like You’ll Never See Me Again Never Let Me Go One Night Only Picture Me Gone Radioactive Run To You Screwed (ft. Zoë Kravitz) The Light Is On Tired Of Being Alone Tomorrow (ft. Tame Impala) Valley Of The Dolls Want You Back You’re Still My Man
Bird Of Happiness (2045) Alterlife Always Be My Baby Anytime You Need A Friend Can’t Let Go Cosmic Love Dirty Computer (ft. Brian Wilson) Drumming Song Falling I Don’t Wanna Cry I’m Not Calling You A Liar Lay All Your Love On Me Like Someone In Love Living Dead Make Me Feel My All One Summer Night Shoot The Moon Suspicious Mind Take Me To The River The State Of Dreaming Wildest Dreams Without You
These Are My Blues (2050) Ain’t No Way Buy The Stars Code Cold Cold Heart Don’t Judge Me Do You? Embraceable You How Deep Is The Ocean? Hypocrates I’d Rather Go Blind I Get Along Without You Very Well (Except Sometimes) I Want You I Was Here Lipstick Long Long Way Love T.K.O My Future Just Passed Take A Bite Too Much Heaven Valerie Voila What’s New? You Light Up My Life
Singles
No Tears Left To Cry (2018) No Tears Left To Cry
Collaborations
2015 Hymn For The Weekend (ft. Coldplay)
2016 You Know You Like It (ft. DJ Snake)
2017 24k Magic (ft. Bruno Mars) Loyalty (ft. Kentorey Johnson)
2018 Sensual Seduction (ft. Cardi B)
2021 Get Lucky (ft. Daft Punk) Lose Yourself To Dance (ft. Daft Punk)
2027 Lost On The Way Home (ft. Chromeo)
2029 Stay (ft. Mikky Ekko)
2034 Digital Love (ft. Daft Punk) I Feel It Coming (ft. Daft Punk)
2036 Beautiful (ft. Miguel)
2043 Empire State Of Mind (ft. Kentorey Johnson)
2058 How Deep Is Your Love (ft. The Bird And The Bee)
Soundtracks
La La Land (2019) City Of Stars I Won’t Say I’m In Love The Audition
Lés Miserables (2024) On My Own
Breakfast At Tifanny’s (2026) La Vi En Rose Moon River Once Upon A Dream
The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (2033) The Bells Of Notre Dame
Pocahontas (2037) Colors Of The Wind If I Never Knew You Just Around The Riverbend Savages (Part One) Savages (Part Two)
Funny Girl (2041) A Piece Of Sky Don’t Rain On My Parade My Man The Man That Got Away Why Don’t You Do Right?
Anastasia (2046) Journey To The Past Learn To Do It Once Upon A December
The Nightmare Before Christmas (2049) Finale Kidnap The Sandy Claws Sally’s Song
The Prince Of Egypt (2057) Deliver Us When You Believe
Filmography (movies)
La La Land (2019) Breakfast At Tiffany’s (2026) The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (2033) Funny Girl (2041) Two Days, One Night (2044) Anastasia (2046) The Nightmare Before Christmas (2049) I Am Love (2053) The Prince Of Egypt (2057) Amour (2084)
Filmography (television series)
Pocahontas (2037)
Theatre
Lés Miserables (2024)
Covers (on YouTube)
2011 Everytime by Britney Spears. Like I’m Gonna Lose You by John Legend.
2012 E.T by Katy Perry. Paparazzi by Lady Gaga.
Cover performances
NBA All-Star (2016) Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key.
BBC Radio 1 (2017) Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.
American Music Awards (2019) Got To Be Real by Cheryl Lynn (with Cheryl Lynn).
Grammy Awards (2023) Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (with Pentatonix).
BBC Radio 1 (2028) Hands To Myself by Selena Gomez.
Super Bowl (2034) Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key.
BBC Radio 1 (2042) Hold It Against Me by Britney Spears.
MTV Music Video Awards (2049) My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion.
Partners
Owen Teague (2012) Tidiou M’Baye (2016-2017) Jeremy Lin (2018-) *married in 2019
Children
Anton Lin (2027) Isabela Lin (2029) Luna Lin (2032)
0 notes
bronovaseven · 6 years
Text
Nina
Nikolina Bronova Mori, professionally known as Nina, is an american and naturalized bulgarian and japanese singer-songwriter, composer, multi-instrumentalist, dancer, choreographer and actress under Columbia Records. She is amongst a small group of entertainers who have been honored with an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony Award. Nina holds the record for the artist with the most singles to top the Billboard Hot 100. She is also one of the only artist to have all albums debut at the top of the Billboard 200.
Profile
Full name: Nikolina Bronova Mori (Николина бронова 森). Birth date: December 7th 1998 (19). Birth place: Washington, United States. Zodiac sign: Sagittarius. Chinese zodiac sign: Earth tiger. Height: 1.68cm. Weight: 52kg. Nicknames: Goddess Of Music, Queen B, Songbird Supreme and The Voice. Blood type: O. Voice type: Soprano. Vocal ranking: Star.
Curiosities
Animals: Miku (pomeranian) and Misha (rottweiler). Body type: Theatrical romantic (medium height, hourglass and voluptuous figure, medium to big bustline, small waist, fleshy arms and legs, small and delicate bone structure with a soft sharpness). Cup size: C. Ethnicity: Brazilian, bulgarian, japanese and portuguese. Face type: Classic (symmetrical and balanced features). Family: Shigeru Sugahara Mori (father), Katarina Montes Bronova (mother) and Karolina Bronova Mori (younger sister). Fandom name: Beehive. Hobbies: Reading, drawing, listening to music, singing, dancing, watching movies and television series, exercising, traveling, collecting pens and notebooks, taking pictures, riding her bycicle and writing music. Instruments: Acoustic guitar, banjo, banjo ukulele, baritone guitar, bass guitar, clarinet, classical guitar, drums, electric bass guitar, electric guitar, flamento guitar, flute, harmonica, harp, keyboard, piano, synthesizer and violin. Languages: Bulgarian, english, french, japanese, korean, mandarin, portuguese, russian and spanish. Nicknames: Goddess Of Music, Queen B, Songbird Supreme and The Voice. Religion: Catholic. Sexual orientation: Heterosexual. Shoe size: 7.5 (US).
Early life
Nikolina was born in Seattle, Washington, the daughter of a bulgarian lawyer and a japanese farmer. From the early age of five, she wanted to become a singer, and took various musical classes throughout her early years. After staring in the Broadway production of Lés Miserables and winning a Tony Award for her performance, she was discovered by a representative of Columbia Records and signed to the label.
Personality
Positive traits: Adventurous, brave, broad-minded, charming, compassionate, creative, determined, diplomatic, faithful, freedom-loving, friendly, good-humored, honest, humanitarian, independent, intellectual, intuitive, jovial, loyal, magnetic, modest, optimistic, philosophical, realistic, self-confident, sensitive, sympathetic, warmhearted and well-liked. Negative traits: Competitive, compulsive, greedy, escapist, idealistic, irritable, obsessive, resentful, restless, selfish and a worrier.
She is known for being very nice to her fans. Many of them report being well treated by her whenever they meet.
Physical appearance
Black and straight hair. Green eyes. Fair skin. Curvy. Dimples. Two piercings on her left ear and three on her right ear.One tattoo on her left ribcage (“to the stars to the moon”) and one tattoo on her right shoulder (japanese writing of “Mori”).
Vocals
Critic Of Music
Vocal type: Spinto-soprano. Positives: Legendary interpretive wit, thanks to incredible knowledge of musical phrasing and vocal pedagogy. A defining, trademarked voice. Incredible breath support, showing no signs of fatigue and carrying extensive legato passages with ease. Incredible utilization of dynamics, using all volumes from fortissimo to pianissimo and everything in between to craft incredible phrases. Great control of her passagio and incredibly balanced instrument. Powerful, resonant belts that are mixed with head voice, that are well-supported and healthy, projecting massive resonance with ease. A master of breath support. Able to rapid fire mid and upper belts. Her low notes are also well supported, dark and full. The head voice is resonant and piercing, full and fluid. Her vibrato is well developed and rolling, and can be executed with ease. Her timbre is velvety and luscious and makes for a perfect midrange. She is also able to sing complex melisma in all registers, with every register well connected. Her falsetto is light and sweet. She also has unparalleled register transitions, switching from chest to head, head to whistle, and even chest to whistle without as much of a pause. Pitch perfect in 99% of performances. Technically, a brilliant singer. Negatives: Occasionally raises her larynx in upper-belts.
Albums and singles
Vivid (2015) All I Want For Christmas Emotions I Wanna Dance With Somebody Love On Top No One Physical
Yours Truly (2016) Into You Love Me Better One Last Time Problem (ft. Big Sean) The Way Too Little Too Late
Revival (2017) Bills, Bills, Bills Bootylicious If I Were A Boy Independent Women Say My Name Single Ladies
Lemonade (2018) Can’t Feel My Face Diamonds How Can I Ease The Pain? Let’s Groove September Sexual Healing
Fever (2019) Bad Liar Dangerous Woman Do I Wanna Know? Psycho Killer Take Me To Church Wild Thoughts
Portrait (2020) Back To Black Chandelier Drunk In Love Love On The Brain Stone Cold Un-Break My Heart
Who I Am (2022) Because Of You Bleeding Love Fallin’ Halo If I Ain’t Got You Million Reasons
Spirit (2025) Hello Rolling In The Deep Send My Love Set Fire To The Rain Someone Like You
Time (2028) Can’t Make You Love Me I Have Nothing I Look To You I Will Always Love You When We Were Young
How Does That Grab You? (2030) Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) Dust In The Wind Every Breath You Take Killing Me Softly The Sound Of Silence
Katerina (2032) Bohemian Rhapsody Come Together I Want To Break Free Sign Of The Times Somebody To Love We Are The Champions
Waiting To Exhale (2035) Always On My Mind Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood Hurt The Blower’s Daughter Wonderwall
The Diary Of Nina (2038) Can’t Help Falling In Love From This Moment On Here Comes The Sun Loving You Yesterday You’re Still The One
Glassheart (2040) A Change Is Gonna Come All The Man I Need Cruisin’ Greatest Love Of All Let’s Stay Together Say A Little Prayer
Bird Of Happiness (2045) Dreamlover Hero Love Takes Time Someday Vision Of Love We Belong Together
These Are My Blues (2050) At Last Feeling Good I Put A Spell On You Respect Something’s Got A Hold On Me This Is A Man’s World
Albums and non-title tracks
Vivid (2015) All That Baby, I Body Language Boy Problems Can’t Sleep Love Come Alive (ft. Toro Y Moi) Cry Dust Is Gone Finesse First Time Gimme Love Hard To Say No I Didn’t Just Come Here To Dance Maiden Making The Most Of The Night Run Away With Me Say You’ll Be There Schoolin’ Life Store The One Too Good To Say Goodbye Your Type
Yours Truly (2016) Bad Decisions Be My Baby Closer Fools For Him Gone And Found Greedy Higher How I Want Ya (ft. Jordan Fisher) How To Be A Heartbreaker I Don’t Care Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart Let Me Love You Never Wanna Know No Tears Left To Cry Only One Paper Heart Right There Sometimes Tattooed Heart Touch (ft. Canvas) Wild You’ll Never Know
Revival (2017) 10-20-40 Be Alright Countdown Cyber Stockholm Syndrome Ego Fantasy (ft. Amber Liu) Gave It Away Glow If I Ever Fall In Love (ft. Janelle Monáe) Knew Better Listen No Mythologies To Follow Oh No! Primadonna Girl Red In The Grey Ridin’ (ft. A$AP Rocky) Rose Gold Simple Things Slow Love Tears (ft. Clean Bandit) Ugly West Coast You Don’t Know Me
Lemonade (2018) 6 Inch (ft. The Weeknd) Adorn After The Love Has Gone A Lonely Night Bound Broken Clocks Coffee Done For Me Emotion Every Kind Of Way (ft. Wale) Falling For You Fetish (ft. Schoolboy Q) Fire Rides Heart Less In Your Bed Love Drought Love On The Weekend Lovely (ft. Khalid) Ocean Eyes Passionfruit Perfect Serial Killer Somebody Else Something About Us (ft. Daft Punk) Thinking About You Too Good (ft. Alan Love) Touch Me
Fever (2019) After The Storm (ft. Bootsy Collins and Tyler, The Creator) Are You Satisfied? Baby Boy Birth In Reverse Black Sheep Cupid’s Chokehold Empty Nesters Forrest Gump I Don’t Trust Myself With Loving You I Wanna Be Yours Miracle Alligner Night By Night No Control One For The Road Puppet Love Redbone Run Baby Run Self Control Someone New Stockholm Syndrome Strange Mercy To Be Alone Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? Yeah Right Your Teeth In My Neck Zombie
Portrait (2020) Belly Ache Betsy On The Roof Bored Broken Clocks Cake Copycat Drowning Eyes On Fire Hostage I Don’t Wanna Be You Anymore If These Walls Could Talk Liability Love Is A Losing Game My Boy Nicest Thing Pilgrim Reality Russian Roulette Talk Me Down Tears Dry On Their Own Teen Idle Tunnel Vision (ft. Shamir) Until We Bleed Use Me You Don’t Do It For Me Anymore You Know I’m No Good
Who I Am (2022) Almost Is Never Enough As Long As You Love Me Bad Religion Cannonball Crave You Draw Your Swords Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic Fireproof Freak Home I’m Not The Only One Just A Boy Let’s Get Lost Listen Malibu Midnight Bottle Moonlight Older Chests Start Of Time Talking To The Moon Tell Me That You Love Me Training Wheels Valentine Volcano Whatever You Like You
Spirit (2025) All I Ask Dark Paradise Hometown Glory I Can’t Get Started It Takes A Lot To Know A Man Love In The Dark Lucky Million Years Ago Never Been In Love Before River Lea Rumour Has It Sad Girl Salvation Speechless Sweetest Devotion Turning Tables Venus Video Games Vultures Water Under The Bridge Watch Young And Beautiful
Time (2028) 9 Crimes All Of You Can’t Pretend Caught Don’t Look Back Emotion Illuminated Jealous Lies Little Boy Blue Love Nick Of Time Nirvana Nitesky (ft. Robot Koch) Nostalgia One (ft. U2) Palace Religion Remedy Sandcastles The Chain Wolves
How Does That Grab You? (2030) All I Have To Do Is Dream Build Me Up Buttercup But Not For Me Heal The World How Long I Fall In Love Too Easily If I Had You I’ll Be There I’m A Ruin I’m Gonna Find Another You Immortal It’s My Party Look For The Silver Lining Make You Feel My Love My Funny Valentine Only Hope Pink Matter Quickie Slow Dancing In A Burning Room Solo (ft. Andre 3000) The Touch Of Yours Lips Want You Back Wonder You Don’t Own Me
Katerina (2032) Bloodsport Boogieman Come To Mama Daddy Lessons (ft. Dixie Chicks) Don’t Fall In Love With Someone New Holding On Ivy Japanese Denim Killer Queen Landfill Land Locked Blues Leave Me Lonely (ft. Macy Gray) Like Real People Do My Favorite Faded Fantasy Pain Please Don’t Leave Me Regret Sinner’s Prayer Sober Stop The World Touch When You Were Young Who Knew Yellow Brick Road
Waiting To Exhale (2035) A Heartbreak All The Way Down Blood Dazed In Daydreams Delicate Elephant Everywhere I Go Freedom (ft. Kentorey Johnson) Guiding Light Heart Beats Slow I Don’t Want To Change You In Chains Love Me Like I’m Not Made Of Stone Medicine No Such Thing One Flight Down Pink + White Put Your Number In My Phone Rootless Tree Run Say It To Me Now Ship To Wreck The Animals Were Gone You Don’t Have To Go
The Diary Of Nina (2038) Big Jet Plane Blackbird Burning Love Clementine Color Me In Creature Fear Dogs Don’t Know Why Falling Slowly Flightless Bird, American Mouth Gravity Happily He Was Too Good To Me Love Has No Pride Lua My Ideal Paper Aeroplane Slow Dancing In A Burning Room Stand Tall Strong The Long Day Is Over The Moon Song Time After Time Waiting On The World To Change
Glassheart (2040) All This And Heaven Too A Woman’s Worth Believe In You And Me Follow Rivers Hardest Of Hearts Honeymoon Avenue I Am Every Woman It’s Always You Like You’ll Never See Me Again Never Let Me Go One Night Only Picture Me Gone Radioactive Run To You The Light Is On Tired Of Being Alone Tomorrow (ft. Tame Impala) Valley Of The Dolls Want You Back You’re Still My Man
Bird Of Happiness (2045) Alterlife Always Be My Baby Anytime You Need A Friend Can’t Let Go Cosmic Love Drumming Song Falling I Don’t Wanna Cry I’m Not Calling You A Liar Lay All Your Love On Me Like Someone In Love Living Dead My All One Summer Night Shoot The Moon Suspicious Mind Take Me To The River The State Of Dreaming Wildest Dreams Without You
These Are My Blues (2050) Ain’t No Way Buy The Stars Cold Cold Heart Do You? Embraceable You How Deep Is The Ocean? Hypocrates I’d Rather Go Blind I Get Along Without You Very Well (Except Sometimes) I Want You I Was Here Lipstick Long Long Way Love T.K.O My Future Just Passed Too Much Heaven Valerie Voila What’s New? You Light Up My Life
Collaborations
2015 You Know You Like It (ft. DJ Snake)
2017 24k Magic (ft. Bruno Mars) Loyalty (ft. Kentorey Johnson)
2019 Get Lucky (ft. Daft Punk) Lose Yourself (ft. Daft Punk)
2020 Sensual Seduction (ft. Cardi B)
2022 FourFiveSeconds (ft. Paul McCartney and Rihanna)
2026 Digital Love (ft. Daft Punk) I Feel It Coming (ft. Daft Punk)
2031 Lost On The Way Home (ft. Chromeo)
2034 Beautiful (ft. Miguel)
2039 Stay (ft. Mikky Ekko)
2045 Empire State Of Mind (ft. Kentorey Johnson)
2058 How Deep Is Your Love (ft. The Bird And The Bee)
Soundtracks
Skyfall (2016) Skyfall
Black Panther (2018) All Of The Stars (ft. Kentorey Johnson)
Call Me By Your Name (2019) Redbone
La La Land (2021) City Of Stars I Won’t Say I’m In Love The Audition
Her (2024) The Moon Song
Breakfast At Tifanny’s (2026) La Vi En Rose Moon River Once Upon A Dream
The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (2033) The Bells Of Notre Dame
Pocahontas (2037) Colors Of The Wind If I Never Knew You Just Around The Riverbend Savages (Part One) Savages (Part Two)
Funny Girl (2041) A Piece Of Sky Don’t Rain On My Parade My Man The Man That Got Away Why Don’t You Do Right?
Anastasia (2046) Journey To The Past Learn To Do It Once Upon A December
The Nightmare Before Christmas (2049) Finale Kidnap The Sandy Claws Sally’s Song
The Prince Of Egypt (2058) Deliver Us When You Believe
Filmography (movies)
Black Panther (2018) Call Me By Your Name (2019) La La Land (2021) Her (2024) Breakfast At Tiffany’s (2026) Almost Famous (2031) The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (2033) Funny Girl (2041) Two Days, One Night (2044) Anastasia (2046) The Nightmare Before Christmas (2049) I Am Love (2053) The Prince Of Egypt (2058) Amour (2084)
Filmography (television series)
Pocahontas (2037)
Theatre
Lés Miserables (2013)
Covers (on YouTube)
2011 Everytime by Britney Spears. Like I’m Gonna Lose You by John Legend.
2012 E.T by Katy Perry. Paparazzi by Lady Gaga.
Cover performances
Super Bowl (2015) Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key.
American Music Awards (2016) Got To Be Real by Cheryl Lynn (with Cheryl Lynn).
BBC Radio 1 (2017) Hands To Myself by Selena Gomez.
Grammy Awards (2018) Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (with Pentatonix).
BBC Radio 1 (2024) Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.
NBA All-Star (2032) Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key.
BBC Radio 1 (2035) Hold It Against Me by Britney Spears.
MTV Music Video Awards (2039) My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion.
Super Bowl (2042) Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key.
Partners
Tidiou M’Baye (2012) Owen Teague (2014-2017) Rahul Kohli (2018-2021) Sho Wara (2023-) *married in 2028
Children
Anton Wara (2031) Isabela Wara (2033) Luna Wara (2035)
0 notes