#greylizzy

[arikittenart]

I finally drew my favorite kuro crackship!

I imagine these two constantly tease eachother like children---

CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

[yamabukizero]

【格伊】一只杯子

文/山吹

他又看到伊丽莎白在擦拭那只杯子了。

格雷实在是搞不明白，到底有什么每日清洁的必要。她从不用那只杯子待客或是喝茶，几乎只是把它当作一件艺术品一样，摆在深色的橱柜里。

他不是不知道她有喜欢收集杯子的癖好，他对于这种小小的收集癖并没有半点不满意。其实，这样小女孩子一样的纯粹少女情怀一定程度上让他觉得她更加有趣。

只不过这只杯子有些不一样。

说来这只杯子与世界上成千上万的杯子并没有什么不同，花纹也是极为普通的红色碎花和金色勾边样式，但是伊丽莎白好像格外偏爱它，每天都将它擦得锃亮。乳白色的杯沿反射着润泽温软的光。不得不说，有的时候格雷回到家看到橱柜里漂亮的温润光泽，也会庆幸「家」的存在。

格雷曾经也问过伊丽莎白这只杯子到底有什么不一样。伊丽莎白也很大方地告诉他这只杯子是十四岁的时候来自夏尔的礼物。

大概是年少不知世事，对于喜爱的少年的一切都予以接纳并为之兴高采烈。淡漠的未婚夫的一个小小的礼物，就足够令她欣喜不已。珍惜夏尔给她的东西，好像已经成为一种习惯。

……又是他。

伊丽莎白终于放下手上的绢布，将杯子小心翼翼地放回橱柜里层。杯子搁在托盘上的一瞬间发出轻微的脆响。

见她还是愣愣地站在那里瞧，格雷不耐地抽出佩剑点了点伊丽莎白的肩膀，挑起她垂在肩上的一缕头发。

「这么喜欢这只杯子？」

伊丽莎白拨开自己的头发撩到背后，转过身来用手指轻轻挑起剑锋的尖端，语气之中是掩饰不住的调皮的笑意。

「格雷伯爵不是一样吗，从来都是剑不离身呢。」

结婚之后她极少这么称呼他，除了偶尔心情好开开他的玩笑，或者对他生气的时候。格雷看见伊丽莎白触碰到闪着寒光的剑锋的莹白手指，还是皱着眉头极迅速地收回了剑。

伊丽莎白的眼珠转了转，看着格雷笑，目光狡黠像只小狐狸似的。

「你说你害怕剑无法砍到的东西？」

「……是，怎么？」格雷不知道为什么伊丽莎白突然谈起这个话题。

「那你应该怕我才对。」

「为什么？」

「因为你的剑……」伊丽莎白眨着眼睛冲着他笑。「永远也无法刺中我。」

「哦？这么骄傲吗，我的小女孩。」

刚刚才入鞘的剑又被抽出来，伊丽莎白一直极少向他挑衅。格雷对她扬起眉毛，眼里闪着兴奋又高傲的光。

格雷看着她，那样轻佻恶劣的笑容又回归到他的脸上。格雷的剑指向伊丽莎白的眼睛，他速度极快，可是伊丽莎白只是站在那里，并没有躲避的意思。

意料之中，在快要刺中她的时候格雷的剑锋一转，擦着她的侧耳停在半空中。剑锋破开空气带起的风落在她的头发上。

「不是骄傲。」伊丽莎白微微偏过脸，似笑非笑的眼神似是无意地飘过他的剑。「我知道，你的剑砍不到我的，因为你不会愿意的，你下不了手。」

半响，格雷突然轻笑出声。

「你说得对。」格雷的手腕侧了侧，身体微微前倾，将佩剑伸向她身后橱柜的方向。「对你，的确下不了手。」

但是……

格雷用佩剑的尖端挑起刚刚被伊丽莎白放置好的茶杯的杯柄，将它勾到自己面前。他百无聊赖地旋转着剑柄，看着茶杯在剑上转了几个圈。然后手腕一倾。

啪。

「啊，真不好意思。」

精致瓷杯在地上碎成一颗星炸开的样子，细碎的白色星屑飞得老远。

格雷拾起一只碎片，故作可惜地用指腹轻抚，假意叹了口气，眼里却写满了「好家伙，终于消失在我眼前了」。

格雷承认他的确是故意的，他就是看不惯那只杯子，很久了。

明明年长她十岁，可是有时候却又比她更像小孩子，伊丽莎白叹了口气，也像看小孩子一样无奈地笑他。

「注意别伤了手。」

然后她伸手取走了他手上的碎片，看也没看一眼地扔在了地上那一堆碎片之中，顺便招呼着宝拉过来清理。从头到尾都没有生气的意思。

「没事，只是一只杯子。」

「只是一只杯子而已？」

很奇怪，她曾经捧着这只精致的瓷杯小心翼翼，当做珍宝，甚至每天的擦拭清洁都是她亲自做的。可是真当这杯子破碎成片，她却不觉得多难过，只是有点可惜。

多好看的杯子啊，就像她美好的第一次恋爱。

「对，只是一只杯子而已。不过，格雷伯爵愿意赔偿我的话，我也会非常高兴的。」

她朝他走过去，靠在他的胸口看着他笑。

碎掉的杯子已经毫无意义，就像明明知道没有结果的年轻的爱恋。但是好在伊丽莎白看得开也拎得清，毅然决然地向少女过往的恋心挥手告别，然后转头飞快地奔向他的怀里。

那里是她的未来。

「新杯子好看吗？」

「好看。不过，也只是一只杯子而已。」伊丽莎白咯咯笑着窝进他的怀里，仰起头，带着红茶香气的柔软嘴唇亲吻了他的下颚。

FIN.

小剧场

真的只不过是一只杯子而已吗……

格雷撑着脑袋，看着还在壁橱前捧着崭新茶杯端详得入神的伊丽莎白。

「……利兹，该睡觉了。」

……没人理。

格雷终于起身绕到伊丽莎白身后，几乎是咬着牙从齿缝里挤出一句话。

「有的时候还是下得了手的。」

伊丽莎白这话听得莫名其妙，却在身体腾空而起的那一刻看见他漂亮的眼睛和压下的嘴唇。

[queencamellia]

“Looks like we’re outnumbered.” 

“So we are.”

“Scared, Midford?” he challenged, unsheathing his sword.

She tossed him an uncharacteristically daring smirk, her heart thrumming loudly in anticipation. “Not a chance.”

Commissioned this GreyLizzy piece from fokkusu.art! Definitely one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time.

(tagging @cielizzydefencesquad​ because I need greylizzy companions to swoon over this piece with please)

[cielizzydefencesquad]

Confession: I always loved Lizzy and Ciel, but I never cared much for Charles Grey until I read your greylizzy content and now I love him :)

LOOK @queencamellia ANOTHER GREYLIZZY SHIPPER ABOARD OUR SILVER CAROUSEL OF HAPPINESS xD 

They are a rather hypnotic pairing aren’t they? Passionate, sharp-tongued, almost bluntly honest Grey and our sunshine princess Lizzy who can give as good as she’s got - I love this pairing because I feel like they’d be so unrestrained around each other. Lizzy’s known Grey since she was what, 8? 9? They go to the same arena (if Campania’s flashbacks are anything to go by) and knowing Grey’s pride and arrogance, he probably walked right up to Lizzy and demanded a duel to “assess” her skills. 

Cue Grey being all “how did a shrimp like you even gain entry into a club like this? You really that good or did you father buy your way in?” 

And Lizzy smiling as sweet as spun sugar and replying “Shall we make a game of it, Lord Grey? I’m not much of a gambler but I rather like my odds.” 

And that’s when Grey sees that her eyes aren’t merely green - they burn, with emerald fire and a strange sort of amused curiosity that Grey’s never seen on an English lady before.

He smirks. “Gambling huh? I have to tell you Midford, I make my own luck.” 

“Do you?” She grins. “Then you must not have much.” 

And then she strikes - giving Grey just enough time to huff a silent laugh and wonder if she’ll be back in the arena tomorrow. 

I am literally 99.9% sure that’s how their first meeting went, with their duel resulting in a tie - shocking the hell out of Grey because what the actual fuck, he hasn’t tied with anyone since he was ten freaking years old and - 

She’s good. Like, really good - and Grey is determined to defeat her, just once. So they keep meeting up and dueling, Grey smirking and taunting her with a gleam in his eyes and Lizzy laughing and teasing him right back.

And soon Grey’s taunts lose their edge and Lizzy no longer fights like she has something to prove. They gain a strange respect for one another and neither knows how this weekly battle of swords and words became something of a friendship for the two of them. 

But it’s on Lizzy’s seventeenth birthday that Grey really, truly notices her. And dear god - she’s beautiful. 

It’s a horrifying thought because she’s supposed to be “just Midford” - the cheeky, bright-eyed girl he duels two or three times a week. And who sometimes joins him while he’s training. “Just Midford.” The girl he sometimes sees at her majesty’s court, when Midford tags along with her father or mother. And sure Lizzy might be the only girl who’s not openly insulted when he makes a quip here or there, who’ll actually join in on his ridiculous jokes and laugh at his bizarre observations without thinking him uncouth or boorish. 

But really, who cares if she can make him laugh (and not the sardonic, bitter laugh that he’s learned to adopt - the real, genuine laugh that stems from pure and simple joy). Who cares. 

He doesn’t. He doesn’t care that she knows all his secrets, that she can understand him without trying, that she’ll never judge or lecture or think him mad. (And even then Grey feels this odd need to impress her, to try and do better - to make an effort.) 

It’s on Lizzy’s seventeenth birthday that Charles Grey undergoes a revelation and makes a silent, unwavering vow. 

He’ll prove himself worthy - he will. Because even though she’s a knight and a genius with the sword, even though she needs no protection, he wants to fight for her. (Because deep down he knows, it’s her. It’s always been her - and no one else.) 

Ahh thank you so much for letting me ramble away on this ask Anon, I’m so sorry for this jumble of word vomit but this crack!ship got me feelin some type of way xD

Thanks so much for stopping by! 

- mod Nina 

[yelenawithaj]

Inktober day 6- Sword As usual, the black pen is slacking so I couldn't make it black and white, but it's pretty anyway. I thought about mods of @cielizzydefencesquad while drawing so this is a present for you two <3 Hope you like it

[arikittenart]

my first attempt at drawing this homicidal sexy bastard 😎🤘🏼

click or better quality :)

[queencamellia]

finally finished this new chapter after literally a year lmao + proofreading now 👌👌👌

[queencamellia]

I have too many unfinished greylizzy fics to wrap up, but (after a realization that I really haven’t been posting greylizzy content recently) I figured that I could post this preview ;)

Lizzy’s hand trembles as she raises her finger, prepared to identify the boy she once loved (and perhaps, the boy she still loves) as a liar.

Before she can, however, the doors of the manor shatter and Charles Grey bursts into the room in all his blustering, electrifying glory. His eyes sweep across their shell-shocked faces before finally brightening with recognition when he spots her.

“It’s about time I found you,” Grey remarks, voice coated with confidence nearly to the point of arrogance. His blunt words, as sharp as his blade, cut through the tense atmosphere. “Come on, Midford, Her Majesty needs you for a mission.”

She feels the weight of several pairs of eyes on her. Grey waits, unperturbed by the growing discomfort of her twin cousins. He doesn’t say a word, but his mouth is turned downwards in slight irritation, as if his patience is nearing its limit even though he has managed to turn her world upside-down in a matter of seconds. In all honesty, Lizzy thinks she might be in a state of shock: she can’t tear her eyes away from the broken doors, swinging precariously from the hinges and revealing the clear cerulean shade of the sky.

“And who might—”

“Ciel,” she cuts off the boy that she has reunited with (the boy who she was rightfully engaged to). Surprisingly, Lizzy’s voice sounds stronger, somehow revitalized now that her mind has an issue to latch onto. Although Charles Grey may seem lackadaisical, his prowess at the sword and admittedly formidable cunning make him a force to be reckoned with. Her cousin doesn’t know what challenging the silver-haired earl entails.

If she had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed the surprise flashing across both azure-eyed twins’ faces. Lizzy’s severe tone, after all, had sounded remarkably similar to her austere mother whenever she berated them in the past.

Lizzy, however, is not paying attention to the Ciels for once. Instead, she locks eyes with the earl who she has sparred with for hours upon hours that probably total to a couple thousands. Though they exchange plenty of banter between clashes and are on fairly amicable terms, Grey has never sought her out in such a manner before.

He had blatantly disapproved of her diffident nature—well, when it came to demonstrating her less feminine abilities, at least—but nevertheless, he still respected her enough to remain silent about her prowess, never spilling the secrets of their evening duels to her fiance despite his distaste for him.

It dawns on Lizzy that this may be something serious.

“Earl Grey,” she says slowly, testing the waters. “We are in the middle of something right now.”

Some intense emotions flickers in his eyes as he cocks an eyebrow. Suddenly, Lizzy remembers how Grey made a cursory scan of the room when he first entered; her fencing companion is not as simple as he pretends to be. Undoubtedly, he’s already gathered the gist of the situation.

“Ah, yes,” Grey replies with an almost bored drawl. He pretends to swoon melodramatically, earning a nearly imperceptible smile from Lizzy. “The Phantomhive soap opera—how dare I interrupt such an important matter? Come now, Midford. A younger brother scheming against the elder one...it’s a tale as old as the Greeks.”

Although she only sees Ciel’s reaction out of the corner of her eye, Lizzy is sure that the other occupants of the room are similarly bristling in fury at his nonchalant dismissal of their situation.

She stifles her smile, sombering. “Grey,” she starts, her formalities forgotten.

“This is a matter of national security, Midford,” he snaps. “International security, perhaps.”

Though Lizzy knows she has changed since she first found out The Truth (sometimes she even wonders if she is “Lizzy” anymore), this manner of tic-for-tac banter is comfortingly familiar. She props her hand against her hip, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, perfect. I’m not sure how that pertains to me, though—”

“Well, we’ve been monitoring the dual Phantomhive situation,” Grey interrupts with a sugary but fake grin, eliciting gasps from some of their listeners. He waves a hand dismissively. “Since Phantomhive screwed his brother over, yadda yadda yadda, but he also did some things, yadda yadda...well, essentially, Her Majesty is suspending both of the Phantomhive twins’ statuses as the incumbent Queen’s Watchdog until we sort out matters. Legalities, and all of that. As such, the role falls to you, next.”

Silence permeates the room.