#Her brother exists solely to hold her back from eating people

[thelunarfairy]

A controversial post about the Yugi twins

Reply to comment on this post HERE

Comment from @hanakoisshort

"Could u explain and talk about the 2 first pictures please"

The two pictures:

Not long ago I received an ask about the connection between "eating" and "sex" that exists in JSHK in a very metaphorical way, if you're interested in seeing it, just click here

I will confess that I postponed creating this post a long time ago, but I realized that we need to talk about this. A lot of people ask me about their relationship, so I felt the need to be completely honest with my point of view about them.

Content warning: incest, cannibalism, sex

Important notes: This post exists solely for the purpose of analyzing the behavior and relationships between the characters, it is not a ship, nor an encouragement to do the same as them. Nothing I say here demonstrates my personal preference about the situation, again, it's just an analysis.

You must have already realized that the relationship between the twins is not an ordinary relationship, right? You must have found at least one or two strange behavior between them, but you chose to let it go, maybe this is a twins thing?

It will be?

Let's remember a little about what I said about the link between sex and hunger, Aidairo tends to use a lot of scenes referring to sex quite frequently and also talks explicitly about cannibalism, it's common for you to notice that cannibalism is also a metaphor for sex, like in the scene between Hakubo and Sumire, I explain it better in the post I mentioned.

Let's remember that supernaturals like to devour, eat, whether other supernaturals or humans, especially humans. It is quite obvious that the sexual connotation between the one who devours and the one who is devoured has to do with the characters' relationship.

So let's focus on the twins' relationship. They were born human, they know what it is to love and how relationships between humans work. Unlike someone who was born as a supernatural and has no idea how it works (like in the case of Hakubo).

Despite this, Tsukasa spent more time with the supernaturals than Amane, who only became close to the supernaturals later, and in addition, he encountered them very early. At four years old, Tsukasa, like any other child, doesn't really know what is right or wrong. He learned from that creature, and one of his principles is that you should be able to do whatever you want, even if it's selfish.

So, in the first phase of Tsukasa's life, we always see him blushing around Amane, it's really very common. He has a great love for his brother, but he doesn't really know what kind of love it is. He's just happy with what Amane offers him, while Tsukasa offers everything, even himself. Then, he returns as a supernatural, he returns home with that thing rooted in his chest.

He would now have the same hunger that supernaturals have. So let's travel a little to the future, we see Amane with suspicious injuries on his neck, cheek, mouth

Yes, mouth

So….

The rope marks on the wrists.

We still see Tsukasa blush when he looks at, or talks about Amane.

What is Tsukasa's favorite snack?

Does it seem to make sense?

When Amane transformed into Hanako, he began to demonstrate strong sexual desires for Nene, and perhaps, who knows, the desire to literally devour her, as he is a supernatural. The human part desires her sexually, and the supernatural part wants to satisfy his hunger.

Why is Hanako's appetite so strong? He holds back so much it's obvious.

So, about Tsukasa. He once told Nene, blushing, that they two are the same, this right after she said that she liked Amane, romantically speaking.

So let's talk about how apparently in love Tsukasa is with Amane. Yes, in love. In a romantic way.

I know, it's weird to think about, but we have some evidence. And believe me, he's not the only one. Amane also appears to have romantic feelings for Tsukasa.

The way Tsukasa usually touches Amane/Hanako, the way he usually blushes when he's around him,… Oh, let me show you more explicitly

So, to complement, let's talk about Sumire and Hakubo. Sumire saw Hakubo as her husband from the beginning, and she treated him as such ever since. We saw throughout her arc that their relationship worked that way, even if Hakubo didn't quite understand (after all, he was born supernatural, and had never learned about love). Hakubo has killed several times and none of them were in the same way as he did to Sumire.

There is a clear and obvious sexual connotation in this scene, it is the moment when he asks to take her as his wife, she is initially scared, and the way he does it, the way he likes, devouring every little piece of her.

She was his yorishiro, and to destroy her he had to devour her.

Do you know who else is a yorishiro?

Tsukasa

And who owns this yorishiro?

Hanako.

Tsukasa apparently doesn't want them to intrude at a time when it will be necessary to destroy him. Sakura made Yashiro see what happened to Sumire after she was devoured, but she did it hidden from Tsukasa (Apparently)

Tsukasa wants to resolve this between them. So, if Nene doesn't remove Tsukasa's seal, Hanako will have to devour him.

Yes, in the same way as Hakubo and Sumire.

Can you see better now?

How about if I show you this art from chapter 100

Doesn't that mean Hanako will have to devour him? Remember the sexual connotation of the scene. The way Hanako is positioned over Tsukasa, the way Tsukasa's hand is touching his lips….

This position, Hanako likes it a lot…. Who does he use this position with most often?

Besides being the same position in which he killed Tsukasa, isn't this a suggestive position for sex?

Hahaha, I think you understand now.

Amane and Tsukasa feel human and supernatural desires, the hunger they feel (but don't usually show) exists, we often see them yearning for each other, what kind of things didn't Amane do to meet Tsukasa's needs?

So, Amane being Tsukasa's "snack" could refer to the fact that he used to eat Amane at certain times (without gravity) perhaps to satisfy his desire and Tsukasa not hurt other people (when they were 12/13 years old)

After all, it doesn't matter, he always forgives, isn't that what he said?

A relationship of love, resentment, unrequited desires, passion.

So, in summary… Apparently the twins are or once were in love with each other, or at least feel a strong attraction between them. The desire that exists in them is reflected in a sexual way or through hunger. As humans and as supernaturals. They are like Hakubo and Sumire, one day Hanako will devour Tsukasa, so, if we take into account the metaphor that "eating" is similar to 'Sex', you can imagine what will happen between them.

Remembering again, this is an analysis of their behavior. Unfortunately I wasn't able to include all the photos I wanted due to the image limit

Initially, this is the impression it gives about their relationship. I didn't mention the AUS, nor the extras, which emphasize this even more. I also didn't elaborate on this in more depth because I don't know if you would feel uncomfortable about it.

It may be that in the future more information about them will appear and refute this… impression about their relationship….

Anyway, I'm going to stop here (although I have many other things to explore about this topic) because this is a response post, so I hope you didn't feel uncomfortable with the content.

If you want, I can better develop a post just to talk about the twins' relationship with this topic.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Everyone likes to pretend Billy was never even there. Life goes on, people change, the past gets forgotten.

A year isn’t enough time for Max though. Right now it feels like the rest of her life wouldn’t be enough time, but Neil and Susan, they were doing just fine.

It’s almost like they like not having him around, that extra burden they couldn’t shake. The plan only Max knew was that Billy was going to stay at home until she was old enough to go with him so she’d be safe.

She knew he was fed up and looking at some local apartments within walking distance of Cherry Lane anyways, but then July happened, and Billy died.

Now it’s July again, and her hair is in twin braids of red with pure white ribbons on the end, and her and her mother are wearing matching blouses. There’s bruises under the bangle on her mothers wrist and one under Max’s own sleeve, and she just wants her brother back.

It’s a holiday they told her, her father (he’s not her fucking father, they never made her call him that when Billy was around) is a veteran, they have to celebrate. Better just dry her eyes and get over it.

Her mother invites all the family they have in the area over to their house for a little get together picnic, and they do their little happy family routine for a while, but Max can only handle so much of it.

Billy should be here by her side, flicking watermelon seeds at her face and putting ice cubes from the cooler down the back of her shirt, being an asshole to distract her from the reality of her family.

And that was that she didn’t really have one, a family. It was always just her and Billy.

Even at these events made for bonding with family, they were off to the side, messing around while the adults talked like they weren’t even there, and she knew she was a little naive then, but it stung more than ever, knowing that even after she’d lost her brother, nobody even stopped to say hi or check up on her, it was just straight into gossiping about the neighbors and those disrespectful bastards across the street who weren’t flying a flag for the holiday and family members who couldn’t be there.

But Max never heard Billy’s name come up even once, and not even in a respect to the dead boy and his grieving sister type of way, but rather, in the way that they just didn’t want to acknowledge his existence. None of these people had come to his graduation in May of last year, or his funeral two months later.

Billy was a taboo that the Hargrove-Mayfields didn’t dare taint their celebrations of freedom and justice with. The irony made Max sick to her stomach.

Or that was at least, until Neil couldn’t help himself.

His words are slurring already, with an excuse to party he’s on what Max would guess to be his fifth or sixth beer that afternoon, and someone just made the mistake of mentioning their own son, Billy and Max’s third cousin or something, and it spurs Neil off on a tangent about his.

“That boy was always good for nothing anyways. It’s almost the same now that he’s dead, ‘Cept maybe now I get some more quiet around the house.”

Nobody knows what to do when he says that, there’s a couple awkward laughs and one shocked gasp, that one was probably from her mother, but Max knows exactly what she wants to do.

What she wants is to watch Neil choking on his blood instead of her brother, his body being lowered into the ground instead of Billy’s, and in the moment she feels like she could be the one to make that a reality, but instead she just stands abruptly, a plate of the food her mother worked so hard to prepare for them she’d been too queasy to eat falling off her knees to the grass, and she says everything she’d bottled up for the past year.

“Don’t talk about Billy that way!

“Now, Maxine-“ Neil starts, but Max is livid, can’t hold back all the things she wished she had said before Billy died, when she got grounded after the funeral, when Neil started beating her, “No! I’m not going to let you do to me what you did to my brother! You don’t get to control me like you did him, it’s your fault that he’s dead!”

It’s her mother’s turn to try to stop her, slender hand covering her mouth painted red, “Maxine..”

“Stop trying to reason with me! I’m sick of pretending to be a family when I had to watch my own brother die! And I’m sick of being treated like I’m crazy for being the only one that cares about Billy!”

More than one person chimes in on that one, offended by the notion they don’t care about family, though it’s Neil that insists, in that faux calm, close to snapping voice of his, “We do care, Maxine. We’re all grieving in our own ways.”

She fires back, “Grieving what? The loss of your punching bag? You hated Billy! You don’t care that he’s dead, all that matters to you is having someone to hurt, and you no trouble adjusting to beating up on your wife and step-daughter instead!”

She catches a backhand to the face for that, and all the background chatter comes to a halt, Neil gritting out through his teeth, “Inside. Now.”

There are tears in her eyes that sting almost as much as the knuckle marks on her cheek, but Max feels like she won, getting her step dad all riled up in front of their family, she feels almost invincible, and she sneers all smug like and bitter, “I can’t go inside yet. I’m celebrating your service to our country, dad. You know, as a family.”

But when Neil's face turns as red as the blood that dripped from his wife’s nose the night before and he stands from his chair and drags her inside by the wrist himself, she realizes that it wasn’t exactly a win.

And when her brain goes numb trying to focus on both the repeated slaps and punches that explode like firecrackers across her skin and the way Neil is yelling and lecturing her until his voice is raw, giving her the same lessons her brother had burned into the back of his mind, she feels like she’s lost everything instead.

When she has to choke back her tears and apologize for embarrassing Neil and for making him hit her as punishment, she realizes, this isn’t a game that can be won or lost at all.

Max isn’t allowed to go back outside to the party. That rule goes unspoken, but words aren't necessary with the way Neil storms off without another word, slamming the back door behind himself. She’s slowly starting to figure out what the things her step father does instead of says mean.

She misses being allowed to be clueless, having someone to protect her or take what punishment she had earned. She wishes she wouldn’t have asked so much of Billy though.

Her own room isn’t safe anymore, what once had been the place she’d be ushered off to when Neil got bad had become more like a trap, the place Neil went to first when he was angry. Everything that had been hers felt wrong, so she goes to Billy’s room and doesn’t come out for the rest of the night. Even now that he’s gone, he still kept her safe.

There’s a welt on her face and fresh bruises forming everywhere, hot tears wetting her sunburnt cheeks and the pillows that smell like Billy, or at least used to before Susan decided his room needed cleaned and washed away every trace of her brother.

All night long there are fireworks going off, a big show put on by the city downtown has her shaking, unable to close her eyes for fear those distant explosions would take her back to the mall, bring back memories she’d never forget, and covering her ear with her hands.

The cracks and booms that shake her windows and her entire life, a headache and a heart break even stronger.

She tries her hardest not to think about Starcourt though, so instead she thinks about how Billy would’ve been proud of her for standing up to Neil. He would’ve called her an idiot, but he would’ve cleaned up her scrapes and held her through the panic attack after, and he probably would’ve liked to see the person Max was becoming too.

That makes Max’s heart hurt, the fact that he won’t get to. She cries harder, and she feels so alone without Billy.

Some part of her knows that she isn’t though. She isn’t the only one that lost somebody last July.

Hawkins’ cemetery was alive with flowers and wreaths and decoration, and more than anything the grieving. All of the victims had families, or in the case of the Holloway’s where their whole family was killed, they had friends and neighbors in the tight knit community who remembered them. El was still grieving Hopper, and Max knew Billy had people like that too.

Billy was popular, his death had a huge impact on the younger population of the town, but not only that, he had his closest friends, Steve and Tommy and Carol and Nicole and Adam from the pool, and of course Heather couldn’t be there, but those people were all keeping her brother alive.

As much as it felt like everyone was trying to forget him, they weren’t, and that brought Max a little bit of hope.

Hope that Billy would be remembered for the things he did right, and who he was behind the boy he had to be to keep them safe.

Hope that with his memory kept in the hearts of so many, the burden of grief wouldn’t fall solely on Max forever and make things a little easier.

Hope that the wound would someday heal, and she could look back on the time she did have with Billy, those seven too short years, with a smile on her face.

For now, she wraps herself in Billy’s jacket and comforter, listening to his music to drown out the distant fireworks, and dreams of the day when things won’t be like this, when she can leave Hawkins and all it’s bad memories and the “family” holding her back to live a life her brother would be proud of, a life that would honor his.

Max decides then with determination, flinching when a bright flash lights up her window, a loud echo through the quaint neighborhood, that she was going to do what Billy hadn’t been able to and break the cycle.

Tomorrow, she’d tell the school counselor she’d been assigned when her depression was at its worst all about Neil Hargrove.

[ayuuria]

Inuyasha Translation: Animage Magazine February 2010 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

This was a translation request from @officialinuyasha. This article was published back when “Inuyasha the Final Act” was still airing.

Proof of the Successor

Tenseiga was a sword that was cut off from Tessaiga along with Meidōzangetsuha. Then is Inuyasha worthy of wielding the Tessaiga? Sesshōmaru has finally gone into serious mode. The unprecedented brother showdown is about to begin!

Sesshōmaru in “Inuyasha The Final Act” gave off the impression that he developed a compassionate heart in comparison to before. Not only did he have a soft gaze when he attended Kagura’s death but he also put himself at risk to save Rin who fell into the underworld.

However, on the one hand, he continued to hold a heart that stoically yearned for insatiable power. The one offensive technique that Tenseiga, “The sword of healing”, obtained: “Meidōzangetsuha”. At first, it could only open a small meidō in the shape of a crescent moon, but after several ordeals, it matures to the point that it can open a gigantic meidō close to the shape of a circle. All of this came about from Sesshōmaru’s ability.

However, no matter how much of a powerful sword Tenseiga becomes, Sesshōmaru was unable to throw away his obsession with Tessaiga. It was then that he learned through his battle with Shishinki that Tenseiga was a sword that was cut off from Tessaiga. Did his father give him Tessaiga’s unneeded aspect? Sesshōmaru, whose pride has been hurt, purposely goes along with Naraku’s trap.

Inuyasha vs Sesshōmaru. The not so long-ago clash between the brothers over Tessaiga is about to begin. Who is the rightful successor!?

Brothers with the Same Father

A full-fledged demon and half-demon but the two resemble each other somehow.

While they both have the same father, there’s a big difference in ability and thought process towards humans between Sesshōmaru, a full-fledged demon, and Inuyasha, a half-demon with a human mother. Inuyasha previously loved Kikyō and desperately protects Kagome. Sesshōmaru on the other hand, had no interest in humans. However, Rin’s existence has brought about change within his heart. Just as his mother said, did Sesshōmaru perhaps inherit his attachment to humans from his father?

A Strengthened Tessaiga

From numerous past battles, Tessaiga has become the most powerful weapon.

Tessaiga was originally a fang of Inuyasha’s greater demon father. Tōtōsai forged it into a sword and it became Inuyasha’s weapon. Afterwards, Inuyasha mastered various techniques such as the Wind Scar, Backlash Wave, and Adamant Barrage. In addition, Tessaiga has the ability to transform itself as well as becoming the barrier breaking red Tessaiga and the demon vortex cutting dragon-scaled Tessaiga. Furthermore, from the clash with Sesshōmaru, Tessaiga will climb to new heights.

Tessaiga and Tenseiga

The powerful weapon Tessaiga and the dead reviving Tenseiga

Inuyasha’s father entrusted him with Tessaiga. Meanwhile, Sesshōmaru was entrusted with “Tenseiga”, a sword that can revive the dead. Sesshōmaru exasperates dissatisfaction with Tenseiga as it cannot be used in battle. However, from obtaining Meidōzangetsuha, Tenseiga has become a powerful weapon. Sesshōmaru raised Tensaiga from only being able to open a small, crescent moon shaped meidō at the beginning, to being able to open a gigantic meidō in the shape of a near circle. However…

The Truth Behind Meidōzangetsuha

In order to strengthen Tessiaga, father used Sesshōmaru and Tenseiga?

Meidōzangetsuha was technique that their father stole from Shishinki. According to Shishinki, their father did not know what to do with Meidōzangetsuha and thus had Tenseiga created in order to cast it off of Tessaiga. Perhaps their father entrusted Sesshōmaru with Tenseiga in order to complete Meidōzangetsuha which a half-demon like Inuyasha couldn’t handle and then have (the technique) entrusted to Inuyasha someday? This gave birth to doubt within Sesshōmaru.

Naraku’s Trap

While realizing it is a trap set up by Naraku, Sesshōmaru purposely goes along with it.

Through Shishinki’s words, Sesshōmaru’s attachment to Tessaiga strengthened. There was no way Naraku would overlook the movement in his heart. The mirror fragment that Kanna (who died) left behind. While it was only a small piece, it did not lose the ability to take and duplicate an enemy’s technique. Sesshōmaru, who receives the fragment from Byakuya of the Mirage, puts it on Tenseiga while knowing it’s one of Naraku’s traps and challenges Inuyasha to a battle.

The Role of Sesshōmaru, Narita Ken

— Episode 15 “The Rightful Successor” depicts a fierce battle with Inuyasha. What were your thoughts when you enacted (that episode)?

Narita: I felt very tense through the whole thing and it was as though the content was reminding me of the movie. (translator’s note: He’s referring to the 3rd Inuyasha movie, Swords of the Honorable Ruler)

— Sesshōmaru says to Inuyasha “Show me Inuyasha. Proof that you are Tessaiga’s successor and not I.” and commences battle with him. Narita-san, how do you comprehend his feelings towards his father regarding Tenseiga and his anger towards Inuyasha?

Narita: I believe all of it is hatred. Only one with power should have a perfect sword. I think that natural thought is the sole source of his anger towards Inuyasha.

— In episode 15, do you think Sesshōmaru was truly trying to kill Inuyasha? Or was he merely testing him?

Narita: I believe it was both. Those without power die. There is no love or sympathy in that.

— In a previous conversation with Yamaguchi-san, he stated that Inuyasha and Sesshōmaru are jealous of each other. Having acted in “The Final Act” up to the midway point, how do you once again perceive Sesshōmaru’s relationship to Inuyasha?

Narita: I think there was jealousy at the beginning. However now, it’s not something that petty but rather, who’s stronger.  I think it’s this single point.

— Sesshōmaru relinquishes Meidōzangetsuha. What do you think this will bring about for him?

Narita: Growth. More strength.

— I would like to ask regarding the two in Sesshōmaru’s team. What sort of feelings do you think Sesshōmaru has for Rin?

Narita: A part within his heart. Like a nostalgic part that he lacks.

— In episode 9, Sesshōmaru saved Rin who had fallen into the underworld. In that episode, which scene left an impression on you?

Narita: The last scene where Sesshōmaru says, “You’re alright now”

— In addition, in episode 9, Sesshōmaru’s mother appears. What is your impression of her? What do you think mother and son have in common and what in way are they different?

Narita: That coldness. Indifference. She also had a comical aspect which I did not expect.

— Regarding the fussy Jaken, what do you think is the reason Sesshōmaru moves with him despite everything?

Narita: I think it’s because it can’t be helped. Like someday he might be useful for something.

— Jaken has a lot of funny lines. If there is a line that left a lasting impression on you, please tell us.

Narita: There’s so many that I can’t say just one.

— The amount of people that Sesshōmaru has connections with is gradually increasing. What sort of growth do you think he will achieve going foward?

Narita: I wish that Sesshōmaru himself never changes. I want him to maintain his sublime aloofness.

— In addition to giving the fans a message, please tell us how you will prepare to act Sesshōmaru in the second half of the series.

Narita: Thank you for always supporting me. In my mind, he has not changed. Any sort of love or kindness has nothing to do with his solitary world. Even if he becomes able to understand the hearts of humans, his heart will never be like the others. Please continue to watch over us.

Our Beloved Lord Sesshōmaru!?

From the point of view of Inuyasha’s party, Sesshōmaru is unsociable and completely does his own thing. But to Jaken and Rin, his existence is precious. Here we have a special feature regarding the two’s “love” for Lord Sesshōmaru!

The very powerful Lord Sesshōmaru. Why someone like him who has lived his life without relying on anyone, purposely moving together with Jaken and Rin? If you were to say it, I think it’s because the two of them are very cute. At first glance, Jaken is a middle-aged small demon with an underhanded personality that makes unnecessary comments and lies. However, you truly cannot hate that sense of restlessness. Rin, on the other hand, is a genuinely cute girl. Sesshōmaru listens to their arguments without the slightest change of expression but in reality, could he perhaps be biting down that amusement in his heart?

Finally, the best part about the two of them is their overflowing “love” for Lord Sesshōmaru. Sesshōmaru is of the strongest class within the “Inuyasha” world but when you see the two of them getting close to him, you can’t help but think the 3 of them are having fun in spite of it all.

Character Bios

Sesshōmaru As an aloof existence, Sesshōmaru has lived his life as he pleases. However, the existence of Tessaiga and Tensaiga leads his heart astray. And now to the brother’s showdown!

Jaken A small demon who serves as Sesshōmaru’s servant. While he makes blatant lies, he’s an existence that one can’t hate. He does not intend to lose to anyone when it comes to loyalty to Lord Sesshōmaru.

Rin A girl who lost her life after being attacked by man-eating wolves but was revived by Sesshōmaru’s “Healing Tenseiga”. Innocent and cheerful, she bares a carefree personality. Her special trait is her severe jabs at Jaken’s remarks.

The One in Charge of Reactions

The extremely cool Sesshōmaru does not break his facial expression easily, no matter what kind of enemy appears or what the enemy says to him. It is there that Jaken fulfills that important role. It is when Jaken is surprised and talks back to the enemy that the (conversational) exchange between Sesshōmaru’s party and the enemy begins to proceed. In other words, Jaken is in charge of reactions within Sesshōmaru’s party. There are times where he unintentionally goes overboard though…

The Life That Was Saved Twice

In episode 9, Rin is kidnapped and taken into the underworld. Sesshōmaru struggles hard to save Rin but Tenseiga can only revive a person once. Without the aid of Sesshōmaru’s mother, Rin would have remained dead. Sesshōmaru looks at Rin softly as she slowly opens her eyes. It was a scene that made you wonder what Sesshōmaru would do when Rin grows up.

You See, the Greatest Combination Within “Inuyasha” is the Silliness and Jabs of Jaken x Rin.

Jaken makes exaggerated and underhanded remarks and Rin jabs at them. There are some periodic gags that are sharp within “Inuyasha the Final Act” but the combination of these two is superb. For example, in episode 3

Jaken “Lord Sesshōmaru’s heart is perfect!”

Rin “He’s strong and kind~”

Jaken *teary eyed* “I don’t know anything about kindness.”

After that, there’s episode 14 that made the voice actor for Jaken, Chō-san, roar with laughter.

Jaken “I’m included with the small people?”

Rin “Master Jaken, you’re small in a lot of ways. Your height, heart, and personality.”

I wonder which dialogue between Jaken x Rin made all of you laugh the most?

The Role of Jaken, Chō

— Episode 15 “The Rightful Successor” depicts a fierce battle between Inuyasha and Sesshōmaru. How was the recording?

Chō: It was terrific. Especially Inuyasha’s yelling as there was a high amount of enthusiasm.

— Jaken appears to be the spokesperson for Sesshōmaru’s emotions (sometimes he gets it wrong though). What sort of feelings do you think he has towards Sesshōmaru?

Chō: Love itself. There’s something there that’s not just a master-servant relationship.

— Jaken has many humorous lines but having acted up to episode 15, which scene left an impression on you?

Chō: I love his reaction when Rin told him “Master Jaken, your personality and heart are small”

— There is silliness and jabs with Rin and they make a good combo. What is your impression of the dialogues with Noto-san? What is the fun part about acting?

Chō: Rin makes some pretty sadistic jabs. Jaken, who’s a masochist, is surprisingly happy with them.

— Jaken sometimes makes obvious lies. It is a refreshing level of falsehood but why does he do that?

Chō: He’s childish.

— What do you think is Jaken’s happiness?

Chō: Lord Sesshōmaru’s happiness.

— In addition to giving the fans a message, please tell us how you will prepare to act Jaken in the second half of the series.

Chō: I will play around while focusing!

The Role of Rin, Noto Mamiko

— Episode 15 “The Rightful Successor” depicts a fierce battle between Inuyasha and Sesshōmaru. How was the recording?

Noto: It had quite a tense feeling, and it pulled me deeper into the story.

— In episode 9, Rin fell into the underworld and was saved by Sesshōmaru. How did you feel seeing Sesshōmaru doing his utmost at the time?

Noto: I once again felt that Rin was truly precious to Sesshōmaru.

— Among the Rin scenes up to episode 15, which one left an impression on you?

Noto: I like the scene in episode 9 where after she’s saved by Sesshōmaru and opens her eyes, she says “Lord Sesshōmaru……” with a feeling of relief. There are a lot of other impressionable scenes so it’s hard to narrow it down (laughs).

— There is silliness and jabs with Jaken and they make a good combo. What is your impression of the dialogues with Chō-san? What is the fun part about acting?

Noto: Chō-san’s Jaken is the best!! Just the fact that I can dialogue with him makes me happy! Rin is quite harsh so acting that part is fun (laughs).

— What sort of feelings do you think Rin has for Sesshōmaru? Also, if Rin becomes an adult as is, how do you think those feelings will change?

Noto: It might be a little different from family, but I think she considers him as someone who is irreplaceably precious. When she becomes an adult…… I can’t really imagine it (laughs). It would be wonderful if she comes to (romantically) love him (laughs). However, I have a feeling (her feelings) won’t change. With Rin as she is now.

— What do you think is Rin’s happiness?

Noto: I think it’s being together with Sesshōmaru and Jaken.

— In addition to giving the fans a message, please tell us how you will prepare to act Rin in the second half of the series.

Noto: “Inuyasha the Final Act” is a truly passionate drama!!!! I plan to act with everything I’ve got alongside everyone until the end so please treat me well!!

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 7-34 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 7 – Rains of Monte Cristo: 7-1 / 7-3 / 7-5 / 7-7 / 7-9 / 7-11 / 7-13 / 7-15 / 7-17 / 7-19  ♦️ ♦️  7-20 / 7-22 / 7-24 / 7-26 / 7-28 / 7-30 / 7-32 / 7-34 / 7-35

Content Warning: This section contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some readers (mentions of abuse). Please proceed with discretion.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

After we left Hang Jiahe’s place, Xu Yin hastened off. No one knew what she was thinking, and all she left was a staggering silhouette.

When we returned to Marius’ car, we hadn’t recovered from the confrontation with Hang Jiahe either, so we sunk into silence. I subconsciously realized that Marius seemed… somewhat sad?

MC: Marius, are you okay?

Marius: … You noticed.

MC: If something’s troubling you, tell me. Don’t keep it pent up inside.

Marius: …

Marius: I keep thinking back these days on what Wang Chunchong said to me…

Marius: When I heard Hang Jiahe’s story, I suddenly… felt a little scared…

MC: Scared?

Marius: Yeah. I live in the same world as Xu Yin, Wang Chunchong, and Hang Jiahe.

Marius: But I’m luckier than them, as my brother and dad both love me – so I’ve got a happy family overall.

Marius: So I don’t have to climb up, step by step the way Xu Yin and Wang Chunchong have to, just to live.

Marius: And I definitely am not like Hang Jiahe, who couldn’t even choose her own life.

Marius: But all of what I have right now is built on the foundation of Pax and the von Hagen family.

Marius: As the von Hagen stands at the very summit, we have no problems whatsoever.

Marius: But if one day, all of this were gone, could I still be this happy?

Marius: Would my day still come?

MC: Of course it will.

Marius: Why?

MC: Because whether day comes or not isn’t determined solely by the outside world.

MC: Like this.

I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight.

Instantly, a thin white light cut through the air, lighting up the dark interior of the car.

MC: Even if one is in the middle of the darkness, if you can find a light, even if it’s the thinnest, weakest sliver…

MC: It can still light up the darkness.

MC: Hang Jiahe’s story is a tragedy from top to bottom. No one could find the light to save themselves in the darkness.

MC: But unlike them, you are a light yourself.

MC: Even if you discard the halo of Pax and the von Hagen family, your own light can illuminate darkness.

Marius: …

Marius looked at me quietly, his eyes glittering in the weak light.

Marius: Jiejie, you’re right, but… not completely right.

MC: What?

Marius: Not only can I emit light, but I’ve also found the light that can illuminate me.

MC: !!!

MC: …

Marius: …

MC: … A-anyways, Marius, about what Hang Jiahe said at the end…

Seeing the atmosphere in the car get stranger and stranger, I rushed to change the topic.

Marius: Though I don’t want to admit it, I do think she’s right.

Marius: It’s impossible for us to incriminate her with the evidence we have now.

MC: But the police haven’t found out anything, and Hang Jiahe wears gloves, so she wouldn’t have left fingerprints…

MC: There’s no way for us to prove that she was the one to use the hammer…

Marius: …

Marius: No, we might have a way.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Waiting Room

Very appropriately, it was raining in Stellis on the day of the trial for Hang Fei and Qi Yu’s case. I arrived at the meeting room early, preparing to reread all my materials, so I could better face this trial where odds were winning were pretty low.

MC: (Only Marius would have come up with this method…)

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Darius Morgan: You want Hang Jiahe herself to admit everything she did in court?

Marius: Yes, that’s the most effective method I can think of right now.

MC: But… how does that work…

MC: …

MC: Are you thinking of imitating the psychological tactics I used against Fannie before in court?

Marius nodded.

MC: But Hang Jiahe’s not like Fannie, so how do we get at her?

Marius: About that… do you remember what we went to her house and you noticed that her glove had broken?

MC: “Looks like this glove design quality isn’t that great either, since it broke on me without me realizing…”

MC: “I’ll look for more durable designs.”

MC: You mean that Hang Jiahe might have accidentally left fingerprints or other clues?

Marius: Yes.

MC: That is possible, but this might not necessarily be of any use against her.

Marius: I got in touch with the production factory of that toolbox. Though the number’s carved on the hammer’s iron core…

Marius: The same number is also secretly carved on the handle, and only the factory itself can identify it.

Marius: They did this to prevent people from making fakes – kind of a trade secret.

Marius: I found out about it thanks to some connections.

MC: Thanks for your hard work.

Marius: No big deal – anyways, back on topic.

Marius: We can send the murder weapon to the factory for confirmation. If all goes as planned…

Marius: Assuming that the number on the core and the handle don’t match, Captain Morgan, we’ll have to trouble you to re-examine the murder weapon again.

Marius: Though this time, what we need to identify are any residues or biological indices on it.

MC: You suspect that there are Hang Jiahe’s fingerprints on the murder weapon?

Marius: Yes.

Darius Morgan: But, Marius, putting aside whether we can even get this examination in before trial…

Darius Morgan: With how much time has passed, it’s highly unlikely that any residues are left, even if they existed back then.

Marius: I know. It’s just…

MC: Captain Morgan… we can only stake our bets on this.

Darius Morgan: And what if we come up empty?

MC: Then I will still confront Hang Jiahe in court with all the truths I have until the final moment.

Darius Morgan: You probably understand that if you fail, we might never catch Hang Jiahe again.

MC: I understand, but I’m sure our effort will display results. I will not give up if we haven’t reached the end yet.

Marius: Captain Morgan, I’m also requesting this of you.

Darius Morgan: … I understand.

Darius Morgan: Within the scope of law, I will do my best to have Wang Chunchong stand in court as the suspect. As for the rest…

He smiled at me.

Darius Morgan: It’s all on you.

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

As he promised, Darius dealt with everything after.

MC: (My emotions are a mess… I don’t even know what to say right now…)

MC: (I’ll go through the files again.)

I sunk back into case-file reading. In the middle of that, Marius pushed open the door with a bag full of breakfast.

Marius: You arrived so early.

MC: Yeah, I wanted to go through the information once more before appearing in court, just to ensure that I’m fully prepared.

Marius: Don’t be so nervous, eat your breakfast first.

MC: Thanks.

Marius: No problem. Oh, right, Captain Morgan had me give you this.

Marius handed me a document.

Marius: This is the information Captain Morgan got when they were investigating Hang Jiahe’s alibi.

Marius: There are blind spots in the villa’s surveillance – Hang Jiahe probably used them to come and go from it.

Marius: The police are currently looking for any witnesses around that area.

Marius: Aside from that, the two identical toolboxes were ones that Hang Jiahe bought around January 25th.

Marius: Wang Chunchong was also in the apartment during then. She probably used the opportunity when she said she returned home to get clothes…

Marius: To get the hammer handle with Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints.

MC: Understood.

[Obtained Police’s Investigation Report]

Marius: Also, this is the examination report that the police currently have on the murder weapon.

Marius: The factory confirmed that the murder weapon’s handle is indeed from set No. 22, and the other thing we guessed…

Marius flipped to the second page of the report, where it was clearly written “No results currently regarding residues or biological indices.”

MC: (Looks like we can’t tell whether there are fingerprints on it for now…)

MC: …

Marius: Hold onto this report.

MC: Okay.

Marius: Alrighty, take your time eating, then. I won’t bug you anymore.

Marius: In court, just do what you want – don’t be too nervous.

Marius: Everything will go well.

MC: Yep.

Marius left with a smile. I looked at that examination report, making a silent decision.

MC: (I’ll proceed with all I have!)

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

CRIMINAL COURT

10:00 AM

Judge: Court is in session. The court calls the People of Stellis versus suspect Wang Chunchong for the homicide case of Hang Fei and Qi Yu.

Judge: First, may the prosecution give their opening statement.

Prosecutor: I represent the People of Stellis against Wang Chunchong.

Prosecutor: On the night of January 28th, Hang Fei and Qi Yu, residents of Yaofu Community, were murdered at home. Their corpses were found not long ago.

Prosecutor: Investigation revealed that Wang Chunchong had severe conflicts with the victims due to a betrothal gift issue.

Prosecutor: That night, Wang Chunchong took food items laced with special drug G24D into the victims’ house under the pretext of apologizing.

Prosecutor: After he led the victims to eat the food, Hang Fei and Qi Yu fell unconscious due to the drug.

Prosecutor: The suspect took this opportunity to move the victims to the floor and used a hammer in the room to deal lethal blows to their heads.

Prosecutor: After, the suspect brought the bodies to his home using the apartment’s special fire escape route and placed them inside suitcases.

Prosecutor: After the suspect went to the natural park’s back mountain, then buried the bodies and the murder weapon.

Prosecutor: Investigation revealed Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints on the murder weapon, as well as the DNA of the victims in the suitcases in his home.

Prosecutor: The surveillance cameras where the burial location was clearly recorded Wang Chunchong’s entrance and exit.

Prosecutor: Thus, the prosecution believes that Wang Chunchong had full motive for the crime and that the evidence is conclusive.

Judge: Does the defendant have any objections regarding the prosecution’s statement?

Wang Chunchong: I didn’t kill Hang Fei and Qi Yu! It wasn’t me!

MC: I believe that there are major flaws in the prosecution’s evidence chain. The true culprit of this case is Hang Jiahe, not Wang Chunchong!

MC: First, the natural park’s surveillance footage only recorded Wang Chunchong’s movements at the park’s front door.

MC: It is impossible to judge where he went after entering the park. Thus, this evidence is untenable.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! As the defense lawyer believes that it is impossible to determine that Wang Chunchong went to bury the bodies based on the natural park door’s surveillance…

Prosecutor: The prosecution also believes that it is impossible to determine that Wang Chunchong did not bury the bodies.

Prosecutor: Thus, the prosecution believes that Wang Chunchong is still highly suspect of performing post-murder corpse disposal.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! The defense has evidence to prove that Wang Chunchong did not go to bury bodies that night.

 Select: Recording of Simon’s murder

MC: That night, Wang Chunchong went to the natural park to meet Simon on the north mountain.

MC: This recording indicates when Wang Chunchong murdered Simon, which is the same time as what happened in the park.

MC: Thus, Wang Chunchong could not have been simultaneously discarding the corpses at the same time at the foot of the mountain.

MC: Simon’s murder case is an essential part of this case.

MC: Hang Jiahe knew of Wang Chunchong’s plan to murder Simon, and thus chose the same day to murder Hang Fei and Qi Yu.

MC: Only in this way could she successfully frame Wang Chunchong.

Prosecutor: Defense lawyer, what evidence do you have that proves that Hang Jiahe knew of Wang Chunchong’s plan?

 Select: Wang Chunchong’s Recording Pen

MC: Wang Chunchong murdered Simon because Tyson requested it of him.

MC: And Hang Jiahe was the one who introduced Wang Chunchong to Tyson.

MC: Hang Jiahe, Tyson, and Wang Chunchong were all aware of when and where Simon was to be murdered.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! The defense lawyer claims that Hang Jiahe was the one who murdered Hang Fei and Qi Yu.

Prosecutor: But according to investigation, Hang Jiahe, Hang Fei, and Qi Yu were a happy family.

Prosecutor: And the relationships that Hang Jiahe had with her adoptive parents were excellent.

Prosecutor: She has no motive to commit the crime.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! Hang Jiahe does have motive to commit the crime, and it is stronger than Wang Chunchong’s.

 Select: Hang Jiahe’s Hidden Video Records

MC: During the ten-plus years Hang Jiahe was fostered in the Hang family, she suffered inhuman abuse at the hands of her foster father.

MC: This damaged her physiological health and ruined her life.

MC: Thus, Hang Jiahe hates all those who pushed her into the depths.

MC: This does not only include Hang Fei and Qi Yu, but it also includes her biological parents Xu Yin and Tyson, as well as her fiancé Wang Chunchong.

MC: Judge, I request Hang Jiahe’s appearance in court.

Judge: A reasonable request. Summon Hang Jiahe to court.

Hang Jiahe: I did hate those people who made living even worse than death for me, but I never murdered anyone.

Hang Jiahe: Also, when the murder occurred, I was not in the apartment. I have an alibi.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! Within the time that the crime occurred, you did return to the apartment.

Hang Jiahe: Oh? Do you have proof?

Select: January 28 Apartment Full-Day Surveillance Footage

MC: This is the full-day surveillance footage the day the crime happened.

MC: Based on big data lab analysis, comparison, and person-eye identification, Hang Jiahe appeared for a total of 6 times in the footage.

MC: Individually, these times are: 12pm, 7pm, 8pm, 9pm, 9:45pm, and 10:15pm.

MC: The reason why she was repeatedly entering and exiting the apartment was to complete her alibi.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! According to the forensics identification results, Hang Fei and Qi Yu died on the 28th after 10pm.

Prosecutor: With Hang Jiahe’s physique and strength, it would be impossible to have moved and struck the bodies, then cleaned the scene, within 15 minutes.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! Hang Fei and Qi Yu did not die on the 28th after 10pm.

MC: They died after 12:30pm that day.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! The victims’ surmised time of death was determined by forensics experts. Defense lawyer, do not speak without grounds.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! The bodies of Hang Fei and Qi Yu had undergone severe decay. When forensics determined the time of death, aside from basing it on the corpses’ anatomical analysis…

MC: They also based it on the victims’ final movements and the surveillance footage of the apartment on the 28th.

MC: In the footage, Qi Yu last appeared at 9:45pm, but the Qi Yu that appeared was not the real Qi Yu.

MC: Instead, it was Hang Jiahe in disguise.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! A security guard saw Qi Yu who appeared in the grand lobby at 9:45pm, so she could not have been another person in disguise.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! The Qi Yu that the security guard saw was wearing a face mask and hat, so he could not have seen her full face.

Prosecutor: Even so, the hammer responsible for the murder of Hang Fei and Qi Yu had Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints on them. Defense lawyer, how do you explain this?

MC: That was because Hang Jiahe had switched out a part of the murder weapon.

Prosecutor: Defense lawyer, what proof do you have?

 Select: Hammer Photo

MC: The hammer that served as the murder weapon is a dual-purpose hammer.

MC: With similar models, one can switch out the handle while leaving the iron core.

MC: Hang Jiahe used this fact, switching the handle she owned with Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints on them onto the murder weapon.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecution: Objection! All mentioned methods are merely the defense lawyer’s conjectures, with no evidence to support them.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! I do have evidence!

 Select: Police’s Examination Report

MC: According to investigation, the set No.22 toolbox in Hang Jiahe’s house and the set No.21 toolbox in Room 1001…

MC: Were both purchased by Hang Jiahe.

MC: Why else would she buy two of the same toolboxes, if not to switch the hammer handles?

Hang Jiahe: You’ve spoken so much, but do you have any evidence that directly proves that I killed them?

Hang Jiahe: If not, then everything you’ve said is just a made-up story.

MC: I do…

I looked at Hang Jiahe, sighing deeply. This moment had finally come.

MC: Just in case, we applied for another examination of the murder weapon, especially the handle portion.

MC: This is the examination report that the police gave.

I took out the last examination report that Marius gave me, showing it for all in court to see.

MC: In this report, we noticed a vital piece of evidence.

Hang Jiahe: What evidence?

MC: The production factory confirmed that the No.21 hammer, the murder weapon, had the forgery-preventing No.22 carved in its handle.

MC: Based on this, we requested that any residues and biological indices on the murder weapon to be examined, and…

I stopped speaking and looked towards Hang Jiahe.

Hang Jiahe: What are you looking at?

MC: Miss Hang, are your gloves alright today? They haven’t split again, have they?

Hang Jiahe: W-what are you saying this for?

MC: No major reason. It’s just that you seemed somewhat troubled about this when we met before.

Hang Jiahe: Of course I’d get angry over my gloves breaking. Can’t I?

MC: Of course you can. But, Miss Hang, have you experienced your gloves breaking on you before?

Hang Jiahe: W-what are you trying to say?

Hang Jiahe’s originally calm face grew agitated, and a bead of sweat slid down her neck.

MC: Nothing, I’m just asking a question. This shouldn’t be a hard-to-answer question.

Hang Jiahe: Whether it has or hasn’t, does this have anything to do with the case?

MC: Whether it has or hasn’t isn’t for you to decide.

MC: But since you’ve said this, I’ll ask you some questions that are more related to the case.

I grasped the file in my hand tight, looked straight at Hang Jiahe, and added some emphasis to my words.

MC: Miss Hang, why did you return so many times to the apartment on the night of the crime?

MC: Why did you buy toolboxes of the same model before the murder?

Hang Jiahe: I… I…

MC: Also, why did these toolboxes just happen to appear in yours and the victims’ homes?

MC: Why are so many coincidences tied to you?

MC: Hang Jiahe, how do you explain this?

Hang Jiahe: No… no way, my fingerprints couldn’t have been on the hammer!

Hang Jiahe looked at me, her eyes gradually growing fiercer.

Hang Jiahe: I clearly confirmed it so many times when I was switching the handle and killing those two beasts.

Hang Jiahe: I shouldn’t have gotten anything wrong, so why did something still slip through?

MC: So, Hang Jiahe, you admit that you did murder Hang Fei and Qi Yu?

Hang Jiahe: So what if I did? It’s Hang Fei’s fault for running into my room that night and raising a hand against me again!

Hang Jiahe: I’ve had enough! I won’t give him another chance to humiliate me as he pleases!

MC: Then why did you murder Qi Yu?

MC: She never stopped Hang Fei? Before, she clearly…

Hang Jiahe: Qi Yu… hah, she did try to stop him that night, but she should have tried long ago!

Hang Jiahe: She’s been a bystander for so many years!

Hang Jiahe: They should both go to hell together!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Judge: Per court trial, the prosecution’s accusations against Wang Chunchong lack evidence and are untenable.

Judge: Simultaneously, multiple pieces of evidence indicate high suspicion against Hang Jiahe in this case.

Judge: Defense lawyer, it seems that your guesses were all correct, and the risks you took this time were all quite interesting.

Judge: Leave the rest of the work to the criminal investigation department.

Judge: Court is adjourned!

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐽𝐴𝑆𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐸 𝑃𝐼𝐶𝐾𝐸𝑅 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑃𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐶𝐸.

"I know ye' love 'em." He smiles and you didn't know how to response. He hugs you closer to him. For some odd reasons you let him. Inhaling, the rose scent that was kissed to the nape of his neck. He takes you to His rooms. Situating you on his bed. Sitting beside you and taking your hand warning them up. You puts your head on his shoulder and he glances down at you, leaning closer your mushk attracting him. Your enchantness calling him closer but this's not who he's. He retreats back smooching a wet kiss to your forehead.

Authors Note; Everything written down below is based on fictional fantasies. In no case it's related to real life, in my sheer excitement I've perfectly imagined Harry as the prince of all of our hearts. To give your imaginations a roller coaster I've created a moodboard, I'd love!! if you'll give your feedbacks (it means alot to me) and appreciate it. All my love, Moji! Part 2

i.

Amber scent of soil beneath the cream skin of soles, clouds flourished to baby blues then rolled the cotton ruffles of the flimsy gown with themselves. A choir of tinsy emblem sparrows sang songs dancing in the rhythm sat on the branch of oak. Snowflaked downey petals of jasmine perked up at the sweet cooe and they caressed themselves to the tips of your soft fingers as you greeted them in the early morning dew. A basket on your hip, collecting fresh jasmines and the pastel cotton gown of yours sticking to your thighs with each step and pluck.

The tangerine sun winks at you from the tea fields far and kisses your skin shying away when you shushed it to be busy in your work. Then you were done with delicate flowers pilled in a basket and your under skirt poofed when you flopped onto the mother earth, laughing to yourself causing the furry rabbits to gallop to their nearest shelter.

The cackles resonated to your cottage and your curious tumbirous little sister with doe eyes that of yours and gorgeous hair that of your mother, flights like a dove to where you're sprawled upon.

"Ani's coming back home." She informs you sitting beside you and the happy news of your father's return to village from a business trip to another village makes your spine erect in excitement. The crown of jasmines you were intervining together falling in your lap and when you ask her again she bobbed her little head in utter vigour, you wrap your arms around her petite tiny figure spinning her around making her squeal.

The longing of your Anni's affection and the yearn of his embrace will soon vanish to joy and warmth after four months of departure.

♧♧

The wind bubbled to the paths of Clisora a city where springs are luxurious with the bustling trade market of satins and silks. Winters warmed up with down town inns and brothels, summers for enjoying the heat of the weather and the berries riped to core. The nation men are happy and thriving even though their King's the cruelest person alive. But, it doesn't matter to them. The whispers of Castles are none of their business.

His own son's loathes him for their father killed his own brothers for the sake of throne.

In the middle of frozeness the heavy thuds of footsteps startled Harry in his chambers, silken beige sheets damp under his neck and he cranes it with horror as the ginormous wretched shadows lurked in the corridors of his rooms. He throws his brocatelle robe on his bare upper body, stepping outside he follows the thumps of devil and his stomach eats his heart alive when he sees the sight of his older brother's rooms.

The executioners leaving his room with none sympathy because a King's command could never be denied upon. Harry's older brother lifeless with ring marks of noose around his neck his only fault was that he exposed his father's evilness to the inner courts.

To that day, everything crumpled to Harry's feet. The darkness follows him around even to the gardens, the memories of his little self fighting with a wooden sword with his Api his big brother never allowed him to sleep.

His GrandMother the Royal highness and the Lady of Castle that has an eye on every chore going inside the high walls, notices the sadness of her only grandSon gifting him presents from the all corners of the world.

Nothing lulled Harry's heart to tranquility till the evening of ending winters when his grandmother calls him to her spacious chamber to show him new sea of life saving luxurious gifts, in the last corner his eyes fell over the painting framed with golden carving.

She knew it was a cupid arrow straight to his heart. He couldn't resist but to give a smile to her and the night servants placed the painting in his rooms.

He stares at the beauty hidden in every splotch of paint, the young girl portrayed on it seeming as if made of milk, Harry stares right into her soft irises and his heart gives a pump of warm blood seeing her cherry lips. The jasmine crown on her shiny hair gives a blooming fragrance to Harry every night he sleeps and the lamb in her embrace makes Harry smile to her with closed eyes.

"She makes m' heart 't peace." He told his Highness truly and she squeezed his hand feeling good to see his grandson himself again.

"M' lion. M' s'happy to see you happy again. Her name's Y/N. She lives in the village of Serene the potraitist of Royal family went there and found 'er tradin' jasmines."

The Royal Mother gets what she wants. She can do anything for her power, the King's sick and Harry's her only puppet left. She'd use him to every finest. She's in so wrong though, Harry moist his tongue with her name testing how it feels coming from the core of his heart.

How she's like to touch in real? Is she like confettie berries that leaves stains at the tips? What's her voice like when she speaks? I'm sure it's honey dripping and succulent with kindness. Harry thinks, palms flat under his head and his book of poetry open on his chest. Stars tinkling from his golden window pane and a future of millions suns waiting for him.

♧♧

You sniffle with blood pumping into fearful vessels of your heart. Tucking your little sister under your armpit you promised her you wouldn't let a finger harm her as the loud heartbreaking screams feebled to the wooden cabinet you're hiding in.

Everything happened in the blink of eye. Momenta ago you were into your Anni's arms when a ship halted at the port and it was a chaos where ever they stepped leading them to your home, for you. Your mother fell to the feet of those black leather dressed merciless men but they stepped on her pure gowns approaching for Anni.

"Where's Y/N? We know she's hidin' somewhere in thy boundary." You stomach eats your heart alive from a revelation of your name from a stranger's tongue. "'M not goin' to tell ye'." Anni grits with rage while your mother sobs loudly the jasmines in her hair dying out of sadness.

The leader of those cruel men shoves your anni past, "too late for that." He retorts evily and you shrink back trying to protect your little sister Alexa. Prayers on your lips, mercy in your tears and before it reached to skys a grime hand snatches your arm yanking you out painfully.

Your glass features dulls into pity and you flinches harshly when he grabbed your jaw snapping it to meet his eyes.

"What's in ye' that's not in other girls?" He grumbles and when father shouts to leave his daughter they trap him back. "Please, leave me." You beg with innocent frightened eyes.

"Royal Highness's, order." He tuts with none sympathy. You try to escape free from his strong hold but he throws you at his shoulder taking you with him.

You kicked and screamed asking for your Anni as he runs behind you trying to save his precious stone, his moon, and his beat of heart but it's in-vain. You watch your parents falling helplessly to the land you've played upon for years in traumatic shock and confusion. Your heart as if none existed, as if it bursted to stardust.

♧♧

You stir from your darkness into real word. It was a dream, oh goodness it was. Your soul consoles you but the reality lies in the other hemispheres as you found yourself away from your loved ones. Mother, Anni and Alexa. Nobody's with you and it's just rotting walls, a beacon of disappointment and a wrap of dirtinnes around your body.

It's an alehouse. When you descended downstairs your abductors were there with hall full of other manwhores. Getting themselves entertained from women in veils and some of them naked. You jump on the opportunity and try to run when a men puts his sword on your throat. You knock his shins and taking his sword in your control making him lurk on it's tip.

"Help me!! These bloody men abducted me under duress." You crane your head in every direction when the hall boomed with laughter. There's no escape now, it's their territory, their men everywhere. Your're alone with none of yours in a city of pitiless people. The sword clashes to floor ripping past through the wooden planks but the sound echoed from your heart, silver of it reflecting you.

♧♧

Everyone's rude here. They gave you a bath with a bunch of other girls and when you tried to put them into their places they'd bark a warning. You're like everyone else. But, the high salt marble walls of Palace, crystal diamond chandliers, sapphire velvet gold carved giant doors, hundreds of maids, cooks and the luxuries of this cold hearted Palace doesn't faltters you like them. Every minute in these walls where you can't see stars and blue skies is an agony for you. Home's waiting for you. Your mother singing your lullaby thinking you might come. You've lost count of the days and weeks.

You sleep with other concubines in the attic, while everyone giggles and gossips you write letters to your home before going to bed which's just a flimsy mattress on the wooden board. The butler in charge lined you all up ordering the coffiure to dress the new lassies. Satins and chiffona feels weird on your skin compared to the soft cotton gowns used to wear.

"Bow!" She barks hitting her thick jewel covered stick to floor. She shoves your head a little down to make you bow properly and what comes from inside the Royal's bedroom chambers throws you into fits of laughter.

A white Persian cat. Bow my arse. You cursed under your breath.

Sheba digs her nails into your forearm hissing loudly, "behave else I'll throw you in dungeons."

With eyes down you all entered inside the Royal Highness Rooms. She's sitting with high chin onto the lush divans, she sips her morning tea as everyone pays her their services.

You free yourself from Sheba's tight eye watch and falls to Mother Highness feet tugging at her gowns.

"Leave meh' for God's sake. I don't wan' to be here, please send me back home." You keep your head lowered and the Highness gestures the maids to stop when the approached to pull you back, "Forgive us our Highness, she's a hussy with a tongue of witch." Instead, you're bold and unfearful. The Highnes takes your chin and makes you look at her.

"My child. This's your home now. And if the nature wishes you'll have a bright future in this Palace." Anger boils in your veins. Hurt you looked at her in accuse yanking the hem of her gowns and standing your grounds.

"Ye'll are brutal creatures, whom fear their weakness!!! These crowns of yours 'ere made t' fall one day."

"Woman!" Sheba yells in warning pulling you back harshly as everyone gawks you, when the Highness leaves her seat the intimidating aura of her makes you shrink back a little.

"The escape out of this Palace's just death, you've options. Live how we say or get thrown into the sea." You huff with stinging eyes and just like that you're escorted out of the chambers.

♧♧

In the dim lights of night lamps you were writing another letter to Alexa when one of the maidens Lezabel entered into the attic with chin held high and every other lassie ran towards her ushering her to plush pillows.

"How was Your Highness's t'night? 'M sure he's handsome that of jammist of jams." They whisper ask her with gloating hearts and Lezabel looks at you in jealousy, burning heart knowing you're special for the prince. Lezabel just came from Prince rooms in the wee hours of night, she saw your portrait in his room. Prince didn't liked her being nosy and disrespectful to his space so he asked servants to escort her out.

"What's the Prince like?" You ask her too in curiosity and she laughs loudly leaning on her elbows. "He's old and fat with beard that of south long, when you look in his eyes you turn into stone. He eats the hearts of young girls like an ugly lion." Everyone suppresses their giggles knowing she's lying and that Prince's the cherriest of shining moon. You gasp praying to good that time never comes when you'll have to face him.

♧♧

Laila's leading you to another task handing you the Highness's cat and you smile down at her scratching her back as Laila talks. Suddenly someone calls her leaving you and Nilo alone.

You groan when Nilo gallops from your arms and climbs up the ridged stone wall when you efforts to get her back gripping the edge of stone, the wall grinds against the floor. You gasp in astonishment when it rotates to other side, stepping inside you were exposed to the mesmerising sight of garden with that of sky. There's wild turquoise sea under the white cemented broad railings of the balcony.

Jasmine scent sings your freedom after days of darkness, your head slowly rakes upto the vine and you chase after it. You settle your feet carefully climbing up each branch of vine lifting up your gowns. Goosebumps appearing on your bare thighs and a shiver shots in your spine as you tried to get a good hold on the other next branch.

Harry's behind you with a suppressed smile hands folded at back as he watches a girl trying to climb up a vine without a particular reason but he doesn't know, he doesn't know you're trying to escape. His lips parts as your foot slips and before you were about to fall he catches you securing your head protectively tumbling to ground with you beneath his taught chest.

He stares you. It couldn't be real? Could it? Those mahogany eyes and shine of pearls in them. Those cherry lips and plump cheeks of baby. She's not real but another dream of his heart and soul. His jade irises flickers between yours and you stare him back in confusion, he's pretty with a carved jaw, heart-shaped toffee lips, stardust eyes and chestnut curls tickling his high cheekbones.

"What are ye' doin' here?" His voice that of honey dripping and you grunt shoving him off of you covering your legs with your gown and standing up asking him angrily, "are you goin' to tell them?" He's still in awe of your beauty. You're way more gorgeous than that of portraits, he can't belive his lover, his soulmate's one feet away from him.

You walk towards the balcony looking down the sea waves as ever beautiful that of crystal "who?" He asks with puppy eyes and you turn sharply to his front, "Sheba, and other witches." . "will you tell 'em?." He shakes his head in denial with soft eyes and furrowed brows, his heart racing fast and nerves jittery.

"What's behind this wall? Can I escape?"

"Why d'ye want t' escape?" He asks with a loom of sadness in his chest. She hurriedly paces back to him.

"Because of Prince. They took me by force!" Harry's still in utter bewilderment, "Ugly and fat, Prince."

"Ugly and fat?" Harry whispers to himself frowning awfully. "They'll feed me to him."

"He eats the heart of young girls." She says in fright and despair. If Harry could touch her he'd have consoled her in his arms long ago.

"There's a girl who survived, she didn't look him in eyes. He smelled her and went away?" She's uncertain with eyes looking dead straight into Harry's for the very first time and it slashed his breath away. Your eyes like a walk in garden of heaven, the summer river of black-mud and moss of skies.

You again rushed to the balcony, "don't ever look down there." Harry tells you caringly joining you at the higher deck "you'll fall in the waves."

"Then tell me what should I do? Help me." If Harry could he'd, but this Palace's not even his's.

"I think s' ye' should go, if they knew you disappeared they'll put you in a bag and throw you in sea." This would never happen in his presence. When he's alive he wouldn't let a soul touch you but he's saying this to protect you for the time being.

Tears brinks in your eyeline. Your bottom lip wobbling and Harry's thumb itches to caress it and kiss it, "A bag?...and sea? No!" You cry sitting on the small stair step. A sigh left Harry's chest and he sits beside you under the flower and grapevine. "I want to go back to my mother, father and Alexa."

"Don't be scared..." He reassures you placing his hand on your shoulder the first skin to skin touch blossoming his soul, "no one can hurt ye' while I exist, Y/N." You pushes your head away from your arm peering up at him with teary eyes. Then in an instant pushing his hand away terrified, "How did you know meh' name?" His eyes widen but he overcomes his panic blurting quickly.

"Didn't ye' say about Sheba? She told me..." He quirks up a smile gazing down then to her with a scrunch of his nose, "...she told me a lupus monsterous lupus came to Palace."

You scoff with raised brows, "she's the monsterous ones!" Harry chuckles gingerly.

"'M tryin' to protect myself." Harry wishes he could be able too protect his flower, his lover from the shadows of this helll. You turn closer to him whining with sadness, "save me, please. They'll take me again." Harry gazes her moon like face with pain and helplessness. "It's hell here."

He takes her pudding hands in his's looking at her sincerely and bringing her to feet with him, "I'll help you. But, now ye' should go....there are alot of girls we'll find a way befo' your turn." You retorts but still agrees not knowing how your trust and faith in him grew in just a first meet.

"What's ye'r name?" You ask him and he smiles circling the hilt of your thumb, "Leo." He lies. You beam back taking his name.

"Why're ye' goin' to help me, Leo?" He gives a lopsided smile that covets dimples into his creamy cheeks.

"Becaus I also want to run away from this Palace..." You gasp. "Did they took you here unwillingly too?" When your train of questions took a depart he spoke in a serious voice with a tinge of gentleness he only holds for you.

"Go back to attic, I'll find you again." With sad eyes you leave him and he grinned to himself foolishly, butterflies swooning around his ribcages and the noor inside the shell of his skin glowing after ages. Only for you. Just because of you.

♧♧

King's at the dying bed and the Highness knows that he's a few days guest. You're an enthronment gift from Higness to Prince when he'll be throned, their plans were to beautify you in luxuries and get you laid with him on daily nights till he becomes the King and the old one dies. Then use you to make the Prince their puppet so that the control of Country that's in Highnesses's hold never floods away from her.

Unfortunately, he has seen you already and asked His Highness about you explaining that you refreshed his heart and satisfied him like a beacon he was always waiting for, so she ordered that tonight it's your turn to go to his rooms.

They weave your hair with tongs, strokes your neck with mushk and reddened your lips with cherry balm, dressing you in teal gowns and pushing the string of your corsets like you're a rag doll. Tears falls down into the valley of your chest as your reflection strikes in the mirror.

Time slows down, the jasmines burns into ashes and the pearls hides into depth of oceans as they walked you towards a long corridor with lanterns and curtains of sheer chiffon along way.

"C'mon lady..." The servant guides you not caring of your tears, the sadness and the misery on your features, "..we're at the golden pathway right now."

"Pathway of strength, power, love and happiness..." You hiccup with weekend knees, "to the gardens of paradise and the exists to the sea of hells..." Your mind gives you a courageous push and you turned to go back.

"Leave me! I don't want this!" But, Sheba grabs your jaw and yanks you to her.

"What do you want then, death?" She glares.

"Either, sleep with with our Prince t'night or get buried into grave." She gives her a warned grime smile wiping your tears and patting your hair.

The lullaby of your mother lulls you and it filled your heart with more tears.

I sigh but you don't hear me.....My pearl......

The sheer long sleeves of your dress wooshed when the doors to the rooms opened slowly.

I cry but you don't pity me. I cry but you don't pity me......Come my daughter, love me back....

You strolled inside the luxurious bedrooms with blurred vision turning your back to face the bed away from the Prince sranding at the breezy balcony outside.

Swing the child for me, my daughter....

The lullaby resonates to end and you fall on your knees lowering your head down and promising to never look up at him. Your head dizzy, lower lip shaking out of fear and chest heaving with ragged breaths.

You try not to shut your eyes tight when the footsteps slowly approached you and when a long calloused hand came down for you, thumb taking your chin lovingly to make you look up at him you grab it and bite it with ever force of canines.

"Ow!" Harry grumbles gaining your attention and your heart falls in your tummy at the person infront of you.

"You?" Surprise, betrayal and bunch of lies. Harry closes his eyelids smiling gingerly and wetting his lips. Then everything from the past came crashing on you and it lowers your blood rush holding your vision.

You fainted falling into Harry's arms and he picked you bridal style laying you on the bed kissing your forehead, he frowns perpetually stroking your hair and regretting the descions of his life, not knowing when the sleep invaded his senses. If he had not been a promised this would have never happened to you.

♧♧

You woke up as if the sun that of paradise, sheets cool and bed that of silkworms but then you glances to your left sitting up with a gasp. Pulling your hair away from between unconscious Harry's fingers carefully. Finding your shoes when your eyes fell over a painting, you pushed away the piece of clothe on it startling when a hoarse voice came filled your ears.

"Did you like it?" You frown in offend facing him boldly.

"Did I like it?! Did I like it?!" You hits his chest with hard blows and with your shoes.

"I saw it at Highnesses's suite." He murmurs in apology.

"And there you gave orders to bring me!" You yelled not fearful that he's a Prince of the land you're at. "What am I?" "Am I a sheep or a horse?" "Am I olives or eggs?" You hold your tears and the screams.

"Talk to me! I said talk to me!!" You sobbed shouting at him blowing him with shoves and atlast he raised his voice speaking with gentleness at end.

"I didn't gave orders to bring ye'. I didn't even know you were comin', ye' 'ere a gift from Highnesses."

You stare him in disbelief, "a gift!?" ""M not a gift but a human!" "I've a family just like you."

He thins his lips, expression becoming taught as he listens you, eyes piercing fiercely.

"You're such an oppressor, you'll become an oppressing ruler!" You said furious at him. The words were like a on arrow ripping his heart because this's what he always feared of; to become like his dad.

"I'll run away from here, I promise." You throw the painting to floor striding away from him when he grabbed your elbow pulling you infuriatedly towards himself.

"Nobody can run away from this Palace." You huff yanking yourself away and leaving his rooms.

♧♧

Lezabel sits proudly on the plush pillows with her stuff scattered around and she calls you from far, "what?" You grunt. "Help me to move this stuff to special lady rooms."

"Help yourself." Your roll your eyes walking away and she follows you, "and why in the burnin' hell you can't help me?" She might burst from the way she can't fist you.

"Because nobody could ever force me to do anything." You say with chin raised and when she muttered something bad about you under her breath you lost it, "by the way weren't you cryin' last night, you came back in the wee of night. What happened Prince didn't liked sleeping with you?" You smirk at your blow and every lassie started whispering to eachother.

"No...She's lying because she's jealous. I came in the morning." She throws dagger at you but you didn't wavered.

"We'll ask Sheba then."

She remarks at this cockily, ".....don't even try young lady our Prince wouldn't even look at ye'r face." She hits your shoulder and you tighten your lips into a pout standing back tall again.

"I don't even like your Prince, he's a weak oppressor. He'll get nothing in the future!" You were in the middle of your burst when she slapped you hard across your cheek. In defence you knocked her down straddling her torso and hitting her equally. A jasmine picker young girl who was famous for her sweetness, politeness and kindness halted at this corridor of life just because of the vilness of her arounds.

When Harry's Mother the Second Highnesses asked for explanations you just shrugged and Lezabel rambled, "she made me an enemy because I entered seclusion at night, she even mocked me."

"She's lying!" You said loudly. "I did nothing, she attacked me!"

"Shut up, Lady!" "Don't speak without me' permission."

Mother favours Lezabel because she's chosen by her. She nods for her to speak.

"'M not pissed because she mocked me but for about things she said about our prince."

"Throw her in dungeon fo' she'd taste the punishment." Mother Highnesses commands to servants and you groan trying to get rid of their painful hold on you as they dragged you outside. "Don't!!" You scream digging the heels of your feet against the stoney floor to stop them but their power's a thunder storm to your blue rains.

"Please, I promise I didn't started it!" You thrash as they push you inside the pitch dark dungeon slamming the heavy wooden door at your face leaving you crying and begging.

Your head points in every direction afraid of calignosity and you shrink into a corner sobbing loudly, crouching your knees closer to your chest.

Your mind drifting to stardusts, and golden nebulas as your breath turned shallow to stillness, to numbness. Your body giving up, bowing to the visciousness of these walls at your last breath.

The sheer curtains blows letting the cool zephyr to caress Harry's curls. He's sitting at the oak desk which has his brother's poem carved on it in golden letters. He's carving a Red Beryl . A precious stone digged out from the springs. The stone reminds him of you, just like a pomegranate. Sour as if the blood dripping from the sword and sweet as the honey apple tarts.

He frowns when a particular breeze distress his heart and his sixth sense feels something's not right. He calls the servant and asks them for you.

"My Prince. She....Mother—" The servant hesitates not meet Harry's eyes. Harry stands up alert, his jaw set tight as he towers the poor lad.

"Mother Highnesses sent her to dungeons." One sentence's what it took for Harry to flee in resentment. He enters his mother rooms without a knock and she raises her chin smiling looking at her cub. "Ye' know mother she's meh lover, how could ye d'that t' meh?" He asks with dissapointed eyes. "You know that your grandmother and that girl's trying to trap, don't you?" But, he leaves her because you need him more than than the petty explanation.

♧♧

The lullaby of your mother rings in your ears. A mellow light crooning you to sleep as if your soul's touching the sky. After so long you see stary night doomed with lush tress around.

A cough escapes your lungs and you raise your arm to touch that sky, to grab those stars.

How many stars are there in sky?

....My pearl.....

...And they shine one by one.....They shine one by one.

How many times my eyes has seen this?

.....My pearl.....

"Our Father in sky. My Mary. Why did you leave me alone?" You inhale a long puff of breath. Staring at imagination infront of you but in reality it's just darkness. "Mother, Anni. My heart my soul m' sendin' this message by clouds and air that're passin' above." Your eyes shines and skin glows when the moon glimmered at you.

"Prayin' to God that the letters, I sent ye' arrivez t' ye. They took me away from ye'. And they brought me here to Clisora. Caged me in a palace full of luxuries and magnificence. M' only wish's to come back to you in our island our courtyard. Under me's soil of kindness over my head trees of olives, skies full of pearls." You inhale the jasmine scent in your weak state.

"Father m' anni if couldn't come back to ye', death's m' only escape. I don't want to keep your hopes then remember me in your prayers, I love ye' with my whole dying soul." Your brows furrowing tensely when Harry's face glimpsed infront of you. Your clogged lungs nourishing with some oxygen and you gasp loudly hunching in Harry's arms.

"Y/N!" He taps your cheek trying to bring you to life. His heart at brink of devastation. He himself took you from the dungeon to his garden.

You're in his arms. He's peering down at you worriedly cradling your face in his large soft palms.

"'S okay...." He breaths out when you snap your eyes fearfully to your surroundings. Jasmines around you, vineyard infront of you and the cast pearled sky atop your head. It's the same garden where he met you for the very first time.

"...take a deep breath fo' me." He takes a glass of water helping you sit up. When you whine with the pain in your sides he massaged them, putting your head on his shoulder. His chest against your back as he stroked your hair soothingly. His cheek pressed to yours and he deliberately puts his chin atop your head.

"I thought that I died...n' that I went to heaven. I smelled jasmine everywhere.." He chuckles softly fonding the apples of your cheek, "because I brought it fo' ye', look." You see and it's jasmine plants with pink roses everywhere. They seem like they've been planted recently.

"I know ye' love 'em." He smiles and you didn't know how to response. He hugs you closer to him. For some odd reasons you let him. Inhaling, the rose scent that was kissed to the nape of his neck.

He takes you to His rooms. Situating you on his bed. Sitting beside you and taking your hand warning them up. You puts your head on his shoulder and he glances down at you, leaning closer your mushk attracting him. Your enchantness calling him closer but this's not who he's. He retreats back smooching a wet kiss to your forehead.

You don't realise when you sleep in his arms as he scoots you to the pillows not moving too much letting you lay on his chest.

♧♧

When you wake up you quickly untangle yourself from him. Stopping to look at his work desk. It's mesmerising with stones you've never seen in life before. A Gold ring with Red Beryl coveted in it catches your attention and you startle when Harry pops out of nowhere.

"These are beautiful." You tells him honestly. "Is it?" He asks back in small voice and you nod giving him a gorgeous smile in return. It's weird you aren't hating him at all.

"This's ones fo' ye'. Reminds meh of ye'." He picks up the tantalising red ring facing you.

"I don't want it, Harry. I want home." He sighs closing his eyes and putting the ring back.

"If I'll become a King. I promise to free ye', Y/N. Till then past's a bad memory fo' ye'." Harry doesn't know that he has to keep his promise as his enthronment days are very near.

Enemies are plotting King's and His death. Bribing the army that they rebel against the Royals.

♧♧

Laila's taking you to Prince and you shove her to a corner. "Laila, help me escape the palace, please I beg you." She looks at you like you're crazy. "They'll cut our heads." You offer her a bracelet. The only thing you've of your parents.

"There's a secret canal way that leads to back gates of Castle. I could only show you the way." You nod grinning widely, unfortunately the canal lead to one of the higher chief's offices and they caught you.

The chief being a betrayer and rebel thought you were eavesdropping of the plot he was discussing. He knocked you down. Thanks to goodness Laila saved you taking you to nurses.

When you came back to consciousness Harry was there. With others around your bed and that chief too. You stares him in fear.

"Who did this t' ye', Y/N?" He turns his torso to you hands on his widespread knees.

You gulped a lump of tears down your throat. You don't know why but it's hurting you to hurt him?

"I tried to escape." His face falls at that. Monotonous as He turns his back to you. Everyone leaves the room making your anxiety peak up.

"Harry..." You whisper with tears falling. You tried to make him look towards you by grabbing his face but he stood up causing to slip shut your eyes.

The next morning, he wakes up to another girl as you're standing with the Highnesses at the balcony from where his's could be seen.

He's gazing down at you with stern expression going back inside with his chest hurting.

"He don't wants to see me. He's mad at me." You say and Highnesses squeezes your shoulder.

"Our grand son's like this. His anger will soon evaporate. You need to acknowledge he loves you alot."

♧♧

He's standing at the high balcony from where the whole city's under his single glance. He drives his eyes away from there towards you, scrutinizing every detail of you he's in love with.

He's wearing a sapphire gown over the frilled blouse, his hickory curls shining under the moonlight and when he speaks his maroon lips dripped with cherriness.

"Harry." You keep your eyes away from his piercing ones.

"Dont be afraid. 'M not mad." He tells you with gentleness in his harsh voice.

"To show ye' the city." He takes your hand guiding you to him. "Why?"

"To show how quite it's when it's asleep, but it could swallow ye' alive at ye'r one wrong move." He's trying to put some senses in you. He knows you're about to escape. He wants you to wait. He wants to protect you. He loves you. He'd never want anything bad happen to you. Even though he wants to be selfish and keep you to him he can't, he'd have to let you go. At last this's what love's about, that of suffering and agony.

"We can go check it out sometimes. The city becomes yours when you love it."

"I don't lie Harry, I told you from the very beginning I don't want to be here."

You soon changed the topic brushing your fingers at his knuckles taking him by surprise.

"What bout ye'? "You're not happy either." "You're just like me." He sighs letting his forehead fall against yours.

"It's meh life. 'M destined fo' what 'm." You give him a sympathetic smile. Harry felt warm. He never had someone to pity his life everyone glorified him. Now, it feels better.

"Ye' care bout me?"

"I do." You confess and he smiles kissing your temple with affection.

But something turned inside you making you bitter, "I'm your slave, your property I'm supposed to take care of you, right?." His heart pangs at this. He puts his hands on your shoulder speaking to you with ever love.

"Did I hurt ye'? Was I ever bad to you?" You shake your head in opposition. God what's wrong with me. You thought as his jade irirses remain fixated at your face.

"Did I somehow hurt ye' meh, love?"

"You don't get it. You're not the reason of my sadness." You lean against the railing.

"You're a good person, Harry." You continue with dissapointed pout of your lips. "'S just there are so many girls here they all want you."

He instantly grabs her chin. "But what matters is who I want." You roll your eyes.

"Ye' want all of 'em. There's one every night in your bed, leave me." You mutter walking away from him when he catches your wrist, pulling you back and holding both of your wrists drawing circles on them.

"Y're queen of my heart. The soul of me' body. I find ye' in the sky I wake up to and the stars I sleep to. Y're dream of me heart, the beautiful places I've never visited, Y/N." He leans closer to you and you close your eyes anticipating for a kiss but instead he presses his lips against your temple.

His eyes widens when you slip your arms from his armpits wrapping them around his shoulders to hug him. He sways along you inhaling in your pomegranate fragrance until the sun rises to hues of tangerine.

♧♧

You're at the secret garden again. The day's pretty bright today. Harry's at the balcony, hands at his folds peeking far to his sight.

"Do you fear death, Harry?" You join him.

"I was never afraid of death. Death was always closer to me like a companion of mine but this life frightens me, Y/N." It's the way he always let his vulnerable side expose to you without any restriction. You raise your hand to caress his cheek hesitating midway and Harry gave you a shy smile clearing his throat.

"But ye' tiny creature gives me hope and light." You fake offend putting your hands on your hips. "'M not tiny!." He cackles loudly. The genuine belly ache one, with his head falling back. There was a weird feeling in your stomach watching him laugh this hard for the first time.

When he heaves his chest loudly moisturizing his lips, craning his jaw to other side you peer him for long minutes before turning it back to you gently and Harry's heart did a little dance when your fingers touched him.

You tip toes. Closing your eyes and attaching your lips to his's. Everything around you vanished to sweet cotton candy. He cups your face in his clammy palms inserting his tongue inside your mouth and you moan biting his bottom lip with sccachirness. He pulls away at the brink of running out of oxygen. Both, of you smiling like fool's gold.

"'M afraid 'm fallin' for ye' Harry." You rub your palms up and down his chest, he slips his hand intervining with yours kissing the insides of it, "meh too, meh too"

♧♧

A royal party was held at castle. Everyone danced, cheered and drank their arses off. Harry's eyes remained at you as you stood in the far corner not allowed to join. Adorned in red satin gown with work of gold wire and jewelled flowers on it. Layers of clothes and cane cane underneath, heavily embroidered corset pushed so far making your breasts appear plump than they already are, your gorgeous hair beautified with a precious headband of red velvets and sapphire stones around. Highnesses gifted you this dress to look pretty for Harry, ordering hairstylist to put curls in your hair and cherry balmness to your lips.

When the Princess of some state came to dance with Harry it caused something to twist in your tummy. It's jealously boiling inside you. Harry smirks whispering something in princess ear that caused her to laugh and you grunted under your breath balling your fists. It's an alluring sight for him. He wishes he wakes upto it daily.

You gesture him with your brows to meet you and He gave you a lopsided smile with mischief in his eyes.

When he stepped in corridors cooing your name climbing up the stairs. His finger tips brushing agaisnt the each wall kissed your presence.

Then two delicate hands pulled him to a side making him squeak dramatically and leading you inside his rooms carefully.

"Ye' mad woman!" You roll your eyes. Smashing your lips against his's catching him by surprise for thousandth time. He kisses you back with same passion, yearn and vigour saturating the thread like distance between you by taking you from hips.

He seals your squeal as you both toppled back to plush floor pillows. He rakes his hands down your calves locking them around his waist. You take his face kissing him with tongue and he fondled your sides caringly.

He moans into your mouth wrapping a hand around your throat and deepening the kiss. Everything feels so hot like burning maroons and you grind your pelvis against his hard on crotch.

"Want ye'." You whine slipping your fingers in his silk curls as he sucked a spot under your ear. He pushes himself back from the crook of your neck tucking wild errands of your tresses back.

"Ye' want meh, sweet girl?" He whispers with sweetest voice continuously petting your head, "I do, Harry. Only you." Harry's so happy he have no words to describe, but his actions would.

He fondles your chin and all you could do's stare his lips, "Tell meh darlin', wha' do yeh wan' from meh?" Your breaths mingling as he grazed his delicate fingers down between the valley of your chest. He maintains an eye contact with you like a prying loin as he glided down your core leaving kisses over your clothes.

When he subduedly pushes your skirts up your bended knees you scrunch upto find his head hovering over your centre, "what're ye' doin'?" You ask him out of breath and he chafed the flesh of your inner thighs mildly.

"Lovin' on meh pretty girl with meh mouth first." Whatever, it's his words coiled knots in your stomach causing you to clench your thighs together but he tutted spreading them wide.

Cool air hits against your dripping cunt when he gets rid of your cotton knickers. He wets his lips, admiring you for moments seeping in the way your pussy lips shining with arousal fluttered with anticipation.

"'S pretty. Love fo' meh?" You bob your head gasping loudly when he traced gentle patterns to your mound. He lowers himself down halting midway, "look meh, darlin'." He tries to gain your attention by tugging your hand intervining his fingers with yours and he climbs back to smauch a kiss to your lips, giving a long wet wipe to your cupid bow. He boops your nose when you giggle gasping in the middle when he pinched your hip-bones.

"I wan' your eyes on meh, when I lick your sweet cunt." The drift of his voice to sterness made him appear intimidating and you gulp nodding.

Your spine arched beautifully when his warm tongue gave an agonisingly tender swipe from your slit to clitoris. He licks like a hungry kitten, small but rapid that causes you to curl your toes in pleasure. You meander your fingers in his wild curls pulling them harshly that made him groan into your pussy.

"Harry..." You moan when he nibbles at your glistening pussy lips, nudging your clitoris with his perfect nose that shooted zaps of pleasure to your spine. "Mhmph, s' fuckin' peachy." He murmurs sucking and taking your nub between his lips to pull it meeting your gaze.

Your head falls back the instant his emarld eyes glimmered at you. The corners of his mouth fully covered with your arousal and wetness.

You lost it when he inserted his tongue inside you, your walls clenching around the soft muscle as it poked in different directions. The tip of his tongue massaging your sweet spot again and again. He gropes your thighs tightly imprinting the rash of his hands when you thrashed in his hold while he laps at you.

"'M gonna...ah!" You yell almost crushing his head and grinding yourself against his mouth. You gushed. Your pleasure coming in waves upon waves dripping down your slit and coating Harry's lips. Your eyes fluttering like butterfly to come to the sight of him atop yours. He's grinning down at you with his cheeky dimples showing and you poke them with your shivering finger.

You kiss him with parted mouth. This time it's slow, sweet and soft. A kiss that melts you in spot, that causes you to desire for more. Your fingers fumbled with his trousers and he helped you shimming them down his ankles.

He lays you down on his bed. Getting you naked not forgetting to love on you how you deserve. Kissing your bare shoulders, your neck and breasts in the process. He kisses your forehead, the apple of you cheeks and your lips at last.

You whimper when he collects your moisture, sushing you with his delicate lips he uses your wetness to tug at his cock. His bulbous head three shades crimsoned of his heart-shaped lips. Both of you moan together in ecastasy when he with ever softness stroked his head in between your pussy lips, flickering your clit with it.

"Take meh hand, darlin'." He winds his fingers with yours pressing them into velvet sheets, your breath hitches when the tip of his cock brushed agaisnt your hole.

"'M bout to get in yeh'." He tells you temple resting against yours and you gave him a wavering smile pecking the corners of his lips.

You give a kitten cry when he buries himself deep inside you slowly taking care of your comfort, "I know. I know, petal." He swiped the sheen away from your hairline staying still as you bolted your eyes shut clamping around him tight. He grunts in pain his back getting pooled in sweat against your palms, but he doesn't care. For you he could bare any misery.

"Relax. Jus' take a breath fo' me, yeah darlin'?" He takes your bottom lip sucking it tenderly as you milked and nourished his cock buried deep inside you. "Y're doin' s' good baby', s' good fo' meh."

His care. Affection. His gentleness for you building three words in you and you were about to say them with ever love for him.

"I...You can move." He plants a small kiss to your hair. Burrowing his head in between your breasts moving with slow thrusts of his hips, you whine and when he gave a particular hard thrust. When he stops immediately looking for any sign of distress on your face you lulled his beautiful face to kiss him. He smiles against your lips, your noses doing eskimo kisses. He's doesn't want to rush. He want to make love with you. Give you all his lovin' he ever had.

"Feels so warm around me cock. Feels s' fuckin' good."

Soon pain faded to tingling of rapture and you locked your elbows around his neck meeting his slow thrusts.

You swirled his curl around your finger adoring his heavenly features. His brows kinking together as he felt blissful pleasure building inside his spine. The bridge of his nose crimson and his cheeks flushed. He held you tight to his chest coming in inside you in spurts of thickness coating your walls and some of it oozing out of your cunt.

He has never felt this ecastic. In the arms of his love. His life. The reason of his presence. Coming out of his headspace he pulled back carefully with his hand pressing on your tummy, when you whine from the soreness he kisses your outer thighs.

"Dear Lord." You moan at the top of your lungs when he kissed your pussy. He tastes himself and you on his tongue as he cleaned and licked you, knowing you couldn't come on your first he took care of you with his luscious sexy mouth. Making you cum for him twice. He has never heard such a pretty noise that of your little saccharine moans and whimpers.

Your head rests on his bare chest. Calves tangled and silk sheets on your hips as he ran his thumb in soothing patterns over your shoulder blade.

"I love you, Y/N. 'Ve never loved someone this much." You smile up at him pecking the underside of his chin with loud smooching noises and his giggles rumbles through his ribcages making you sigh dreamily. He was drowning into slumber and you stared up at the renaissance painting blinking when the realization dawned upon you. What 'm doin'? Is this even right? Your self questioning came to a drastic stop when the room echoed with a knock. You draped a His silk robes over your naked figure popping your head from the creak of door.

"Laila?" You squint and she nodded vigorously gesturing you to come outside.

"I've found a new tunnel that really leads to the back gates of Castle, we need to slide outta here before midnight at that time the duties of guards changes." She whisper yelled. You look at her in shock and uncertainty, until nodding in agreement at last. Quickly rushing in back to put on your clothes halting in tracks when Harry's little breaths reaches your heart you lowers down to plant a kiss to his forehead, frowning at the fact he's burning giving half of your heart to him you exited his rooms because whatever's your descion pain's written in your destination. Putting on a the hood of your magenda velvet coat, you snatches a lantern running away from the indoors pushing the heavy oak doors as you reach to gate Laila stops you to give a hug. "Take care of yourself." You sighed with your heart shattering to pieces.

"Take care of Harry, fo' me, laila." Saying this you rushed away into the meadows pondering over the 'I love you' you've rested on your lips.

TAG LIST

@moonlightmaliksblog @tomsdior @swtxel @princessoliviaofmeowtown @haaarry @harrymysweetie @msbrightsides @harryssunflwer @fallenangelbb @soarocks @parkersroses @limitedwonder @thegoldenlines @shimmerstyles @nanabells @fratcurls @jesusidontcare1 @yelyahryan @babypouge @alwysblue @idganut10 @holydrizzy

[vee-vee-writes]

Reunions (Part 3)

The Hardest Day - Part 3

Part one & Part two

Y/NN = your nickname & Y/N = your (real) name

Taglist: @thewhiteladyofrohan @tschrist1

Word Count: 1.8k

It had been a long day of travel and it was safe to say that Y/NN, like most of the company, was exhausted. However, they were given no rest before Thorin began barking out orders at the company. Fili, Kili, Ori, and Nori were told to collect firewood and water. As the resident cook Bombur had begun to prepare the stew, likely to avoid being snapped at by Thorin. Others shuffled around the area setting up the campsite.

Sighing the dam got up from her spot on the soft grass and made her way over to Bombur, offering to help prepare the nights stew. Bombur smiled widely as she approached. "Do you need any help making supper?" Y/NN questioned gently. He nodded and patted the grass down beside him. "If you could scrape the carrots and potatoes and peel the onion, I will cut them up. I'll get you a bowl to put the peelings into and a knife from my pack" Bombur requested before retrieving the items for her. Although she was unused to the work, the girl made quick work of the vegetables, making small talk with Bombur as they worked. As she was polishing off her work the group of four returned from gathering the nights supplies.  

Y/NN rose to meet them, wanting to help in way that she could. Fili and Kili had begun to set up the campfire in the middle of the site. Retrieving the flint and steel from her pack she was quick to shuffle over to them. Kili was the first to notice her approaching and grinned cheekily at her. The two had become close on the journey, Y/NN spending many long days travelling together. "How are you feeling?" Kili inquired as he helped assemble the campfire. "Tired" Y/NN teased, plopping down next to him, and handing the flint across to Fili. Kili snorted at her answer and Fili smirked a little. Thanking her for the flint and steel, Fili began striking it together to light the fire.

"Well, I better get back to helping Bombur before that uncle of yours comes after me" Y/NN sighed tiredly. Rising from her spot on the grass she gazed around the campsite. Trios of dwarves sat on logs they had rolled over from the surrounding area. On the outskirts she observed Thorin and Balin deep in discussion. 'They're probably pouring over the details for the rest of the journey' she decided. Thorin caught her gaze and raised a thick brow at her. She regarded him for a moment before trudging back over to Bombur to help finish the stew.

-//(Half an hour later)//-

Y/NN wiped her brow with the sleeve of her coat as she admired the hot stew bubbling away over the fire. "Thank you for the help. It took half the time it would have taken me on my own" Bombur thanked as he patted her gently on the shoulder. "It was no problem Bombur, I enjoy helping" Y/NN beamed. He smiled back before beginning to dish out supper.  

One by one each of the company members trekked up to them to grab their bowl. Y/NN picked up her bowl from the three-remaining bowls. Making her way over to the log the Durin brothers were sitting on she noticed Thorin and Balin still wrapped up in their discussion, oblivious to the rest of the company. 'If they are still there when I have finished dinner then I will bring it to them' she promised herself.

The brothers greeted her and made room on the log for the dam. Settling down in between them on the log she began eating her stew before pausing. She questioned whether Fili and Kili would think her nosey asking after other people but then her curiosity got the better of her. "What do you think your uncle and Balin are talking about?" Y/NN queried, "they've been far too long to just be discussing tactical movements and supplies for the journey." The brothers seemed taken aback by the question but then Fili admitted, "To be honest with you, I am not completely sure. I tried to speak with them earlier but was promptly sent away." "Whatever it is then it must be secret." Kili concluded.

Hesitating Fili sucked in a breath before uttering "It was about you, Y/NN." The dam's eyes widened. "What about me? I know Thorin doesn't like me but surely I have proved my loyalty to the company by now" Y/NN exclaimed frustrated. "I didn't hear much but he was…suspicious of your identity. He thinks you are some sort of noble lady" Fili disclosed, "So are you?" Both young darrow looked at her, eyes gleaming with the anticipation of her answer.

"My mother belongs to clan Stiffbeards so yes by association I am a noble lady" she confirmed, "but I'm not here for money or my own gain. I'm here because a long time ago I made a promise to someone" she confessed. "And who would you have made this promise to" a strong baritone voice spoke from behind her. Whipping her head around Y/NN was confronted with Thorin standing staunch, clench jawed, and arms crossed in front of her. His eyes bore deeply into her as if he was judging the very fabric of her sole, weighing up her existence.  

"Well?" he boomed at her. Never had she ever thought those eyes that had once regarded her with love and compassion would look at her with such harshness and anger. "Thorin, calm down. Let us go about this in a calm manner" Balin stated, attempting to appeal to Thorin's more rational side. "It is bad enough that Gandalf has forced this woman upon us but now she is keeping secrets too" Thorin snapped.  

By now all of the company was watching the unfolding events. Mixed reactions painted their faces as she scanned them. Many adverted their eyes as she met them, but others met her gaze in defiance, distrust clear in their eyes. As panic welled up inside of her, her lip started to quiver. "I-I can explain everything please. I promise that there is a good reason that I am here" she choked out. Thorin cocked an eyebrow but motioned for her to continue. "I am here for you. The promise I made was to you. My real name is Y/N" Y/NN cried out, a flurry of tears beginning to drip down her cheeks.

His expression remained neutral but anyone who knew Thorin well enough could see the array of emotions that danced through his eyes, confusion, realisation, and excitement. "Y/N, my nathith (daughter)?" Thorin questioned alarmed. By now a flurry of tears was streaming down her cheeks but she nodded as she choked out a sob. Reaching out with a shaky hand she fumbled with the buttons to the pocket on her coat before managing to undo it.

From inside she retrieved a small white handkerchief which she unwrapped to reveal a small silver bead. Thorin let out a strangled cry before dropping to his knees in front of her. He cupped her hands with his larger warm calloused hands, staring at the bead sitting on the handkerchief in her hands. "I-why are you here? You should be safe with your amad's (mother's) kin" Thorin managed. "I missed you adad. It's been over 60 years since amad and I left…I thought you'd forgotten me since you never visited" Y/N whimpered.

Thorin's eyes snapped up to meet hers and he brought one hand up to cup her cheek. "I would never forget about you mizimith (jewel that is young). Not a day has gone by since your mother took you away that I have not thought about you" Thorin soothed. Gazing into his eye’s Y/N watched the storm of emotions stirring in his eyes as they became red rimmed. This eased her mind a bit, he had missed her as much as she had missed him. With no face-to-face visits it had been hard to tell how he truly felt, her adad had always been more reserved emotionally.

Y/N turned her attention back to the bead in her hand, "I brought this back for you. You once told me that this bead symbolises the future of our kin and that when you took back our home that I should bring it to you." "We haven't taken Erebor back yet so why are you giving it to me now?" Thorin's tone was laced with confusion.

"No, we haven't. But right now, the fifteen of us hold the future of a race in our hands. No matter what our actions will decide the fate of all dwarves. Take back our home or not, this is the course we have set, and we must stand together and strong as we charge ahead" Y/N preached, looking to all of the company. Focusing her attention back to Thorin she tenderly stated, "If this bead really does symbolise our future, then you should wear it with pride as we carry on." With that she freed her hand from within his grasp and used it to place the bead in the centre of his hand. Thorin curled his fingers around it, playing with the bead for a moment.

A stray tear began to streak down his cheek. "Forgive me for the way I have treated you, I thought so ill of you when you had the purest of intentions for our kin. I thought you were a noble woman looking to improve your station" he croaked out. "I forgive you adad, even if your misgivings hurt me, I understand wanting to protect your own" she murmured to him before pressing her forehead to his in an intimate familial gesture. Thorin brought his hand up to the back of her head to hold her closer together then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Would you braid it into my hair for me?" Thorin whispered to her. Y/N nodded, a large smile creeping over her lips.

The company went back to catching quietly around the campfire to give the two a moment of privacy, Fili and Kili moving to sit amongst them. Thorin sat down cross legged on the grass while Y/N went to retrieve a comb from her pack. After finding her comb the dam went back to perch by her adad's side, getting to work on combing and braiding his hair. They sat in silence as she worked, revelling in one another's company at long last. Eventually she broke the silence, "I need the bead to cap off your braid adad." Wordlessly Thorin handed it to her with care. She capped the braid off and took a moment to admire the braid. It was the signature braid of Durin's heir's, worn by all members of the King's close family. "Thank you Khajimel (gift of all gifts). I will wear this bead with pride, knowing that your words have given it more weight" Thorin smiled, eyes soft with adoration for his daughter. "Now come I will adorne your hair with the braid of our house and kinship so that any dwarf who sees you knows how precious you are."

[joonie-beanie]

Unspoken Affections

Paring: Bean (MC) x Lucifer

Word count: 2,059

This is a short story for my MC Bean, and Lucifer.

To get a brief understanding of Bean and Luci’s relationship, I suggest clicking the link above and reading Lucifer’s section on the post. This story is basically when Lucifer finally draws out Bean’s feeling for him.

👉👈 I hope some people can relate to Bean, and enjoy the angst/fluff/comfort.

The moment Bean lays eyes on Lucifer, her heart skips a beat.

She’s inexplicably enthralled with him--his handsome smiles, his kind gestures, his everything. She wants to learn him, wants to be close to him in a way that his brothers can’t. She wants his affections--wholly, selfishly--all to herself.

But he feels so beyond her. His very existence is something crafted by god. Among the brothers, he’s the most powerful, and beyond that, he’s Diavolo’s right hand.

And Bean is just a human. A human who yearns for something far out of her reach.

She draws a line in the sand from day one--attempts to cut herself off from her feelings for the Avatar of Pride.

Don’t let Lucifer know you’re in love with him. 

It’s not an easy thing to do, but she manages.

She befriends the seven brothers, growing her relationships with them every day. And it feels natural, with all of them--to eat, drink, and be merry. To stay up late and do homework together, or go out on a grocery run in their company. Every relationship feels equal, and fair...until skinship starts being shared.

A bear hug from Beelzebub is met with laughter, and reciprocation. Bean throws her arms around Mammon or Leviathan without second thought. And if Asmo pecks her cheek, or Satan holds her waist, or Belphie hugs her from behind, she’s all smiles.

But the moment Lucifer appears at her side, fingers curling around her shoulder and giving her the softest of squeezes, she’s stiff as a board. Her face goes carefully blank for a split second, and it takes her a moment to regain herself--smiling up at him, and acting like nothing is wrong. That she hadn’t just reacted to his touch so vastly different than his brothers.

It throws him through a loop.

Had he done something to offend her? He doesn’t bother questioning Bean, in the moment. He lets it go, and decides that he’s likely overthinking. Perhaps his show of affection had been unexpected.

So, he tries to exhibit his affections more often. A headpat here, an arm around her waist there. Yet, all shows are met with fake smiles, and carefully picked reactions. 

Lucifer, despite himself, starts to get frustrated.

Bean acts as if nothing is wrong following those moments. She continues her relationship with him as normal--checking on him when he works too hard, keeping him company in his study on late nights, bringing him meals if he can’t find the time to pull away from his work.

She exhibits a kindness to him that feels genuine, and intimate. He has caught her on more than one occasion simply watching him--a fondness reflected in her eyes that has his heart beating a bit faster.

When she’s not being careful, he can read her affections for him clear on her face. And yet, when he tries to draw out those affections, his attempts end up futile. She shys away--locks her feelings behind a poorly constructed veil. 

And for what it’s worth, Lucifer strives to be understanding. He waits, and gives her space, hoping that one day she will open up to him. Yet, weeks pass, and he’s left watching from the sidelines as Bean showers her brothers in her physical affections, but not him.

He still receives her love--through late night conversations, and freshly brewed cups of tea--but he craves what his brothers have. Doesn’t understand why he’s the outlier among his siblings. He has been nothing but kind to Bean--has opened himself up to her more than he has to anyone in the last millennia. And it’s clear that she loves him--that she cares for him just as equally as any of his brothers. 

So why won’t she allow him to get close?

Finally, he decides to breach the topic.

“Why do you reject my shows of affection?”

Bean is sitting on the couch in his study, DDD in her hand, when he speaks those fateful words. Her fingers still, eyes widening ever so slightly as she turns her head up to stare at him. She hadn’t even heard him stand from his chair, or make his way to her side. But here he is, towering over her--leaving her nowhere to run.

Lucifer can see her scrambling for a lie to come up with. Even if she tries to cover-up how flustered the question has made her, he can see it in the way her body reacts. He has been around her too long now--he notices the little things about her, the tiny habits her body has when she’s startled, or mad, or happy.

“I--”

“I am no fool, June,” he speaks plainly, leaning down to her eye level. Her gaze darts away, flustered by the close proximity, and the way her real name sounds when spoken by the Avatar of Pride. Lucifer reaches a gloved hand forward to grasp her chin. He continues once he has guided her gaze back to him--her pink tongue poking out to wet her dry lips.

“I see the way you interact with my brothers, and the way you interact with me, and there is a difference. You’ve allowed the others the right to adore you--to touch you, however they wish--,” his voice softens, crimson eyes trailing down her neck. He spots the faint marks that linger on her skin, barely visible to anyone who isn’t searching for them. “--but it seems that such a right has not been given to me,” his heavy gaze jumps back to hers, and he sees the blush that has spread on her cheeks--can practically hear the way her heart has sped up within her chest.

“Why?”

He releases her, gives her space to think, but doesn’t move far. Lucifer won’t allow her to skirt around him this time. He wants to hear the truth. 

“Lucifer…”

Bean has been dreading this moment--trying so desperately to avoid it for as long as possible. She doesn’t want to express her adoration. The amount of love inside of her that solely belongs to Lucifer is overwhelming, and she feels that if she admits it, the dam she has so helplessly crafted will break, and everything--every feeling--will come flowing out at once.

And what will Lucifer say, then, when she admits that she loves him? That she has longed for him since day one, and has wanted nothing more than to be his? Surely, someone like her will be rejected. Lucifer is an ex-angel, a powerful demon, an otherworldly being who she cannot live up to, no matter how hard she tries. 

She cannot match him. And he deserves better.

And yet, Lucifer has no plans of letting her escape the current conversation. He won’t let her leave until her feelings for him have been aired.

Bean wants to run away--far, and fast.

Without warning, she presses to her feet, and faces Lucifer. His eyes widen in surprise, taking in the brilliant blush that has spread across her face. She looks embarrassed, and angry, and sad all at once.

“I love you,” she says. “So much. Too much.”

Lucifer falls silent at her words, confused, and elated. He only snaps back into reality when Bean slides past him, making a break for the door.

He’s quick to grab her wrist--twirling her around and wrapping his strong arm around her waist, so their fronts are pressed together. She raises her hands to push against his chest, but her attempts to disconnect herself are fruitless. 

“If you love me then why do you act like this?” Lucifer gives her a squeeze, emphasizing his words. 

Bean goes still in his grasp. Her forehead knocks against his shoulder, defeated, and he can feel her shakily exhale.

“Because you’re too good for me.”

Her voice warbles as she speaks the words, and Lucifer can sense the sadness in her soul. The heartbreak that she’s placed upon herself, before ever giving him a chance to reciprocate her feelings. 

Her fingers shake where they rest against his shirt, emotions overwhelming her, just as she had feared. And she tries to calm herself down--tries so very desperately to shove her feelings back into their cage--but Lucifer thwarts her attempt. 

His gloved fingers brush over her flushed skin, moving her hair from her face. He cups her cheek, beckoning her to look at him, and the soft look of affection shining in his eyes breaks her. 

Tears well in her eyes, fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

She sobs the words, breaking down in his arms, unable to control herself. This is not what she expected. This is not the rejection she had mentally prepared herself for time and time again. 

The love she sees in his crimson gaze scares her as equally as it thrills her. Her deepest fears and insecurities rise to the surface, reminding her of her imperfections--of all the reasons she had ever felt inferior to the Avatar of Pride. She wants to tell him that he’s making a mistake--looking at her with such adoration. He could have someone better--someone shorter, or taller--someone skinnier than her, with a prettier face, and better qualities. 

There is no reason for him to love her, and yet, he does. Wholly, and truly. 

It shows plain on his face, as he stands there, holding Bean in his arms. He wipes her tears away without second thought--cradles her head and presses his lips into her hair as she hangs onto him--soaking her worries into his shirt with each hot tear that falls.

“Silly girl,” he whispers the words against her. She chokes on a laugh, sniffling. She’s finally beginning to come down from the barrage of emotions that have afflicted her. 

“I’m not silly,” Bean mumbles, leaning away from him as she lifts her palms to rub at her eyes. “I was really worried, you know? You’re just...you’re you, and you’re perfect, and handsome, and amazing--there’s no reason for you to love someone like me--”

“And who is someone like you?” he questions softly, his palms lifting to cradle her cheeks. His thumbs stroke lovingly over her flushed skin, clearing away whatever tears remain. “Someone intelligent, and kind-hearted? Someone who works-hard, and is mindful of others?”

Bean pouts at his words, but leans into his touch--craving the feeling, and the comfort that comes along with it. Lucifer breathes a laugh, leaning down to meet her. He tilts her chin up, connecting their lips softly, and Bean quietly moans--the sound full of longing, and satisfaction. 

Her hands lift to wrap around his neck, and she presses herself into him--deepening the kiss without second thought. She has longed for this moment, has dreamed about it too many times to count.

“I love you as well,” he whispers the words into the kiss, staring at her with half lidded eyes. Pride wells within him, his sense of self returning as he finally receives the abundance of love she has kept hidden for so long. The declaration of her affections for him sates Lucifer in a way he can’t begin to describe. 

He feels relieved above all else, but a hunger stirs inside him. 

He has waited too long for this moment--missed out on countless days and hours he could have spent loving her, had he only confronted her about her feelings sooner. 

He is jealous of his brothers, and the amount of time they’ve already had to love her--to have her in ways that he’s been unable.

Lucifer moves his arm to wrap around her waist, his other hand petting through her hair and cradling the back of her head. He kisses her deeper--open mouthed, hot, and wet--evoking tiny gasps, and wanton groans. 

And Bean melts into him, done fighting. She allows herself to drown in his affections, her hands moving to grab the fur of his coat as she holds onto him for dear life. 

By the time Lucifer pulls back, she’s blushing prettily, gasping for air. He smiles, fingertips soothingly rubbing through her hair. 

“Tell me again,” he says, pressing a ghost of a kiss to her lips. “Who do you love?”

She opens her mouth, no hesitation present, and Lucifer feels his heart sing. All those months hiding from him, and it’s only taken 10 minutes to tear down all of her walls. 

“You, Lucifer. I love you.”

He has a lot of lost time to make up for.

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 12

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me this long, guys! I’m back in school and am a little bit busier now, but I promise I’ll update as much as I can! Be warned that I did write a portion of this chapter with Can We Sing the Darkness to Light in my brain (it’s a choral piece and I’m a nerd lol) and so I probably found some of what I wrote a lot more emotionally compelling than it is due to my fragile state of mind when I hear a good tenor part. Whoops.

This chapter takes place during “The Headband.” The story kind of stalls for a bit here in the aftermath of Crossroads of Destiny, so I’m sorry about that, but I promise I’ve got some more exciting things planned for later!

Fire Lily Masterlist

The Fire Nation was weird. It was a thought that Y/N couldn’t get out of her head. Everywhere Y/N had been in the Earth Kingdom (besides Ba Sing Se, which was strange and creepy within its own right), had had the shadow of war looming over it constantly. Here, it was like it didn’t exist.

There was no fear in the Fire Nation, not like there was in the Earth Kingdom, and nothing like what Katara and Sokka had described about the Southern Water Tribe. Here, they weren’t constantly on alert. They could relax. Somehow, the Fire Nation had always been on the offensive. These people didn’t know what it was like, hearing about armies creeping closer to your home.

It was also strange to think about how Zuko lived there. The Fire Nation was his home. Y/N was letting herself think about Zuko now, every once in a while. She let herself think about Jet, too. She thought of him every time she picked up her swords to spar with Sokka. She thought of him every time she lit their fire at night.

They were staying in a cave outside of the village, and it gave Y/N the heebie-jeebies. She didn’t like how dark and damp it was, and it made her feel trapped. Toph felt right at home, surrounded on all sides by earth. Meanwhile, Sokka couldn’t get past the threat of “enemy birds.”

“They’re Fire Nation birds, guys,” Sokka insisted, waving his arms frantically to deter the birds in question.

“They’re birds, Sokka,” Katara corrected, rolling her eyes.

“So, this is how it’s going to be until the invasion.” Sokka looked around at their surroundings—the cave, some rocks, grass.

“Hiding in cave after cave after cave…” Y/N shuddered, glaring at the mouth of the cave.

“We don’t need to be cave people,” Katara said, putting a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “What we need is some new clothes.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, “blending in is better than hiding out. We’ll be safer with Fire Nation disguises.”

As much as Y/N hated wearing Fire Nation clothes, she hated constant cave-living more. “I like that plan.”

“We don’t want to sit around and eat cave hoppers,” Toph said, hitting the cave wall. A few of the bugs came tumbling onto the ground, and Momo scooped one up and ate it with a chomp. Y/N winced. “They have much better food out there.”

“Well, where are we going to get clothes?” Sokka questioned, crossing his arms. “We don’t have nearly enough money.”

Y/N thought for a moment. “We could just steal some. I thought I saw some clotheslines when we flew in.”

The others stared at her for a moment.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” Y/N added, uncertainly. Yes, they were the “good guys,” but they also needed clothes, and no one had any better ideas.

“Okay,” Katara agreed quickly. “Let’s go.”

---

As it turned out, stealing had been very fun. Y/N wondered briefly if that made her a bad person, but she had managed to find a ribbon for her hair, and the feeling of having it away from her face made her question her morals a lot less.

Y/N did try her best to find something that wasn’t red, to no avail. Soon, they were all clad in their Fire Nation getup. It felt a lot better than the soldier’s uniform, but Y/N still wasn’t sold on the red. Sokka and Aang seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, and Aang seemed a lot less upset about covering up his arrow.

Y/N was very unsure about the sleeveless red top and dark grey pants that she was left with. But it was definitely better than her tattered dress, and the ensemble was easier to move in. She liked how her arms were completely free, and the long pants made the grass let scratchy.

Katara and Toph looked great in their outfits, although Katara did seem upset about having to remove her necklace, and Toph had already punched the soles out of her new shoes. They made the unanimous decision to go into town and get some shopping done with the money they had left.

“Here.” Y/N took her own money out of her bag, as well as the gold cup with her family crest. “We can all use this. I don’t really need it anymore.”

It was time to let go of the cup. It would be useful to them, at least. And there were plenty more heirlooms in her family. And now, standing side by side with the Avatar, two of the most powerful benders in the world, and Sokka, in his genius, Y/N felt more confident than ever that maybe she’d be able to make it back home. Her father could forgive her for getting rid of the cup. Her mother thought it was ugly, anyway.

“Are you sure?” Aang asked with some concern. Y/N nodded.

“It’ll be more useful to us if we trade it,” Y/N insisted. Besides, the cup was just another reminder of Ba Sing Se.

“Wait.” Katara stopped Y/N as the others turned to leave. “Your hair. The ponytail is too low. The Fire Nation has them higher.”

“Oh.” Y/N didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it. She pulled the deep red ribbon out of her hair.

“Here, let me help,” Katara said, pulling the ribbon from Y/N’s hands. Y/N was tall, so she had to crouch a bit, allowing Katara to secure her hair into a ponytail that sat towards the crown of her head.

“Better,” Katara hummed approvingly. She took Y/N’s hand. “Now let’s go.”

The village they were in was vibrant and peaceful, Y/N noticed. There were plenty of people around, and Y/N hadn’t seen any soldiers yet. The group decided it was safe to split up if they wanted to. Y/N followed Toph and Katara to a jewelry booth.

Y/N helped Katara pick out a new necklace, and Toph donned a small crown. Y/N was a bit surprised—Toph didn’t seem like the type to appreciate jewelry. Y/N bought a set of matching gold bangles to put on her wrists.

“You know,” Katara suggested as she secured the necklace around her throat, “we could get you something for your swords. I know Jet had something like that.” Katara’s voice caught on Jet’s name for just a moment before recovering.

It would very useful, Y/N knew. She could always bend, but she felt like Katara could tell she had mixed feelings about it. Plus, she knew more about wielding the swords than proper firebending.

After a lot of scouring, Toph managed to locate a store for weaponry. Y/N asked the shopkeeper for advice on what to look for. He had seemed confused for a moment, and Y/N remembered that hook swords probably weren’t a common choice here—she had read once in her library that they were a traditional weapon from the northern Earth Kingdom. But luckily, the shopkeeper hadn’t asked any questions and directed her to the right area.

Y/N ended up settling on a belt-like sheath, with two loops at her hips that the hooked points of the sword easily fit through, but it would get stuck at the handle, holding the swords securely but still allowing for Y/N to pull them out without much trouble.

“Six gold pieces,” the shopkeeper said in an unnecessarily loud voice. Y/N frowned. They only had a few silver pieces and the cup left, and Sokka and Aang had the rest of the money. Y/N pulled the cup out of her bag and set it on the counter.

“I’ll trade this for it.” The shopkeeper’s eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing the piece. It looked as if he thought it was fake; he picked it up and tapped it on the counter a few times.

“I’m from the colonies,” Y/N said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically, she was. The man gave her a brief look of disgust.

“It’s worth more than what you’re asking,” Y/N pressed, tapping a beat on the counter impatiently. She hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions or say anything about what his sour face was for.

“Deal,” the man said finally, taking the cup and stashing it behind the counter. Y/N felt surprisingly little as she watched it disappear from sight, and any wisps of sadness were expunged when she secured the belt around her waist.

Y/N walked back with Katara and Toph to their cave hideout. Sokka was already waiting, but Aang was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Y/N reassured. “There aren’t very many soldiers in this village, and his tattoos are covered.”

“Yeah, Twinkle Toes can handle himself,” Toph agreed, plopping down onto the grass.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sokka called, waving his arm. “Want to look over some of these plans with me?”

Before Y/N could respond, Katara was speaking. “You never ask me to help you with that stuff.”

“Hey,” Sokka protested. “You and Aang and Toph handle the bending, and Y/N and I will handle the plans. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken.” Y/N knew her bending was almost useless—she could light their fire at night, but other than that she only knew a few basic moves. In a true bending fight, she was done for.

Y/N walked over to join Sokka, sitting on the grass in front of a rock that he was using as a makeshift table. Y/N was a bender, sure, but it was nice to have a non-bender around. Y/N wasn’t comfortable with her bending like the others, who were all masters of their own elements when she had never even had a formal teacher.

“I tried looking into that boiling rock you were talking about a bit more,” Sokka explained, spreading a map across the rock that he hadn’t shown her before. It was an older map of the Fire Nation—Y/N wasn’t sure where he got it.

“I couldn’t come up with much, but my guess is somewhere like that would probably be in one of the more volcanic regions of the Fire Nation.”

“But why would my brother be in the Fire Nation?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“What?” Sokka looked at her in confusion, an eyebrow raised. “You’re looking for your brother?”

“Um…” Y/N hummed awkwardly. “Yeah. He was arrested by the Fire Nation before I left home. I had a weird dream a few days ago, and he said something about a boiling rock.” She could tell Sokka was looking at her sympathetically, although she made a point to focus her eyes on the map.

“I know it’s a long shot,” Y/N acknowledged, “but I thought I’d at least try.”

“No, I totally get it,” Sokka shrugged. “You want him to be safe. I get that. He’s your brother.”

“I feel like it’s my fault,” Y/N admitted. “I didn’t help him. I actually made the situation worse.” Y/N gave a dry laugh. “I don’t know if he’d want to see me.”

“Of course he wants to see you.” Sokka looked affronted. “He’s your brother, and you’re supposed to take care of each other.”

“Yes,” Y/N groaned, “but I didn’t!”

“He’s your older brother, right?” Sokka clarified, his head echoing your nod in response.

“Well,” Sokka paused, as if searching for the right words, “as an older brother, I’m sure he wants to see you. And Y/N, I know it’s hard when you want to protect someone, and you fail.” Sokka’s eyes were filled with a sadness that made Y/N want to reach out and hug him, but she held off.

“But that doesn’t mean that that person is going to be angry at you,” Sokka continued carefully. Y/N felt like he was reassuring himself as much as he was her. “And even if you fail, you can keep doing everything you can to protect the people you care about. And I’m sure that he wants to do the same for you.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Y/N said softly, her eyes beginning to water. Before she could back away, Sokka was pulling her into a hug.

Y/N hugged him back. She realized she hadn’t hugged anyone since… well, before she left home. They stayed there for a moment, before Sokka pulled away.

“Ready to review my schedule?” Sokka asked, suddenly upbeat. He unrolled a scroll that spread all the way across the rock and down onto the grass.

“Oh my…” The entire thing was color-coded. Y/N wondered where he got the ink for that. “Hand me a pen.”

Sokka smiled as they went to work.

---

Aang returned to camp later in the afternoon and was properly lectured by Katara. Sokka was completely appalled.

“You’re enrolled in Fire Nation school?” Sokka asked for the tenth time. Aang’s answer didn’t change.

“Yes. And we learn about the secret river tomorrow!” Aang reminded them. The secret river was the only thing getting Sokka to moderately accept the idea. Y/N thought Sokka was too easily persuaded by weird sneak-attack opportunities. “But I can’t go back unless I bring my parents to meet with the headmaster right now.”

“Y/N can be a pretty convincing actress,” Toph suggested. “Not for me, since I can tell when you’re lying, but others seem pretty convinced.”

“Sokka, Y/N,” Aang pleaded, “will you pretend to be my parents?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed. If Aang really wanted to go to this school, she would help. She remembered how much she wished she could go to school. While it was still far from a normal experience… Aang deserved to have some fun like a regular kid.

“I don’t know,” Sokka murmured, looking contemplative.

“Secret river, Sokka!”

“Fine,” Sokka gave in. “But first we need to get our disguises!”

“Disguises?” Y/N echoed, but Sokka was already running off, Aang following enthusiastically behind him.

When Sokka and Aang returned, Y/N almost died from laughter. The beard plastered to Sokka’s face was ridiculous. She had no clue where he got it.

“Y/N, make your hair look more mature and put this in your shirt,” Sokka ordered, holding out a bundle of cloth fashioned into a smooth round shape. It looked like a bag stuff with wool.

“What?”

Sokka sighed exasperatedly. “Do you want to be convincing or not?”

“Fine.”

Y/N felt ridiculous and was pretty sure she looked almost as ridiculous as Sokka as Aang led them into the school building. Y/N noticed how everything inside seemed a little bit short, and portraits of Fire Lord Ozai hung on the walls, Fire Nation insignias everywhere. Y/N had never seen the Fire Lord’s face before until Aang had brought back his macaroni portrait.

Zuko didn’t look like him, Y/N noticed. Ozai’s face was sharp—Zuko’s was kinder. But Y/N found herself imagining Zuko on that poster, with his shaggy hair and scar, and that look on his face when he fired at the Avatar.

Y/N took a seat with Sokka and Aang as they entered the headmaster’s office. The headmaster was a severe-looking man with the same beard, sideburns, and thin mustache that all of the Fire Nation men Y/N had met seemed to have. He greeted them as they took their seats.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs…”

“Fire,” Sokka replied haughtily. His accent was atrocious. “Wang Fire.” Y/N held back a snort.

“And this is my wife,” Sokka gestured to Y/N, “Sapphire.”

It took everything in Y/N’s power to not roll her eyes. “Sapphire Fire. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Mr. and Mrs.,” the headmaster paused, “Fire. Your son has been enrolled here for two days and is already causing problems. He’s argued with his history teacher, disrupted music class, and roughed up my star pupil.”

“That doesn’t sound like our Kuzon!” Y/N said, giving Aang a discrete bump of her elbow when he smiled.

“That’s what any mother would say, ma’am,” the headmaster responded. “Nonetheless, you’re forewarned. If we continue to have problems, I’ll have to send him to reform school.”

“Reform school?” Y/N asked.

“By that, I mean the coal mines.” The headmaster stood, glaring down at them.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Headmaster,” Sokka said. Y/N wanted to facepalm. “I’ll straighten this boy out something fierce!” Sokka turned to Aang. “Young man, when we get home, you’re in for the punishment of a lifetime!”

The headmaster seemed rather satisfied with that response, nodding with a slight smirk.

“Thank you for informing us of our son’s behavior,” Y/N told him, trying to sound professional to make up for Sokka’s over-the-top character. “Goodbye.”

“Success!” Sokka cheered as soon as they were out of earshot. Y/N punched his arm.

“Wang Fire?” Y/N questioned incredulously.

“What? It’s a good name!” Sokka whined, rubbing the spot on his arm.

“Sapphire Fire?” Aang added with a smirk.

“Okay, so maybe that one wasn’t my best,” Sokka admitted, stroking his beard.

“Will you please get rid of that thing?” Y/N already didn’t like how much Sokka was enjoying his fake facial hair.

“Never,” Sokka replied with a smile.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami, @nadiblue. @la3divine, @sarsky, @aangsupremacy 

[forgetthetimetravel]

Show us some of your favourite ocs!

beloved anon

thank u

so this will be a mixture of commissioned art and my old art cause I have been making characters since always, and some I still hold dear. Exhibit A:

Lenora.

She was a kid OC for a Nightmare Before Christmas fic I started in Jr. High. it's over 100k and I love her so much that I've stalled out on continuing it multiple times almost solely bc I don't want to hurt her more xD'. She is THE cinnamon roll; she frightens easily, but she also trusts easily. She wants to believe in a better world and that people can be kind, despite lots of bullying and manipulation in her life. She accumulates wounds and friends alike, and she is just such a bean, I love her and am putting her into some original AUs with friends now to give her a happier existence~♡ She loves pastels, painting with watercolors, and soft cozy things. Ace ace baby, but biromantic.

Almyra

Aly is a snarky almost middle aged dragon from an original story that involves a boy with extreme anxiety and a stutter finding her injured in the woods, and they come to learn that maybe dragons and humans could live in peace. She is SUCH a snark butt though, she regularly playfully threatens him and he can't ever tell if she is joking. I am very amused, but also she needs to learn to be more sensitive to others; he has had multiple panic attacks as a direct result of her (and several indirect). She does learn about the consequences of her actions though, and I'm working on her arc still.

Priyani

I just did this doodle cause she didn't have anything and she DESERVES IT. Another cinnamon roll, the younger sister of a main character OC. Heavily lesbian-leaning pansexual. She worries about her older sister who finally moved out, but now she has to deal with their overbearing mother and 2 younger brothers at home still. She is so soft y'all. Romantic til the sunset bleeds out into the ocean.

Combert

[Can't find the stupid pic maybe I'll edit later]

This curmudgeon has grown on me. Originally created as a random fill-in side antagonist for a role play with some friends years back, he has developed into his own. Paranoid, bitter, and ready to jump to conclusions, he is great at moving a story along haha. He's basically a police officer. And he does actually just want to protect people, but his way of doing it is trying to nullify all threats asap and aggressively, as HE views a threat. Has a knack for finding actual threats buried under layers of distractions. He has very few friends (actually none for a long time) because he will also whistleblow in his own ranks, and has all the paperwork to make sure it gets dealt with. I think he doesn't get fired mostly because of his family's influence, and they do not want him back at home either. Very competent, absolutely nobody likes him for it. He doesnt notice. He is a hot mess when he actually manages to accidentally get into positive social interactions, or any tbh lol. He gets shoved into an arranged marriage but she is very chill and slowly helps him figure out how to Human sometimes.

Shida/Nashida

Priyani's older sister and a main character in a romance series of AUs I write with a friend, she is A Lot. Talented Bisexual Disaster, she loves dancing (ballet, jazz, pole, etc.), is tight with her large family despite being at odds with some of of quite intensely, she has an eating disorder, feels things intensely and reacts verbally, and holds grudges. She cares Deeply and just wants to find a stable place in life that she can jump off cliffs from but come back to at the end of the day. Very cuddly.

Vixen/Autumn

The Vixen is a magical fox from an original story I'm writing with some friends. She was experimented on by magicians as a kit, and turned it to her favor, escaped, and is now the magical herald of the royal family and essential mascot for the country. Due to a war and a coup, though, she ended up hibernating for a few decades with one of the princesses. She is a glutton for chaos, especially for humans, and her favorite and main magic to use is fire. She can speak physically and telepathically, and her mate is Vapor, an arctic fox the magicians also experimented on. Their kits are a wide array of chaotic adorable. :) Kits referenced most frequently are Emberglow, Keenlight, Ransom, and Brightsight. Vixen's rival is a telepathic snow leopard who has taken to guarding the royal family just north in another country that had a nasty war with her own.

Thank you for the question!! I appreciate you and I hope you enjoyed seeing a few of my favs~♡

[sweetestlamb]

It Will Rain

Summary: Gang-tae is finally honest and has a realization about his relationship with Mun-yeong. 

Author’s note: This story is coming to an end and honestly I’m very happy it has been very hard to tap into these emotions for both of them, their self-deprecation just wraps around me even after I’m done writing. But this was also very cathartic and I am happy that I wrote it, this was one of my only issues with the show and I know a lot of people excuse and accept GT’s behavior and that’s your right but I couldn’t do the same and I finished the series still yearning for a real apology so this story has done that for me. Provided more closure. Anyway, there is only one chapter left hope you all enjoyed! 

She's gone.

He goes through the ceaseless motions of life, robotic and mechanical, going to work and coming home like he's living in a washing machine; spinning around and around in violent circles.

But endlessly his mind spasms every second as he remembers that she's gone and he has no idea where exactly she might be.

Sang-in refuses to speak to him, exiting any space that he enters and his frustration melts away as he realizes that her disappearance is not solely impacting him, the manager looks haggard as well, dark circles sunken deep like craters on a surface.

His thumbs twinge with malignant pain from his extensive messages to her, 109 messages sent since the day he went to her empty castle, pleas and apologies easily coming now as he recognizes how badly he needs her in his life. Life without her has been colorless and dull, a black and white façade that he longs to escape from. He wants the vibrant hues that being around her splashes into his life.

All his life he's been a blank canvas and meeting her poured colors onto his skin that he never knew he needed, life was meant to be lived and up until the moment she crashed into his life, he'd merely been existing.

He's taken to eating alone, punishing himself for his hapless mistakes, he doesn't deserve to be surrounded by warmth or have a full belly when Mun-yeong is out there with no one, thinking that he doesn't care for her. That couldn't be further from the truth but he has nobody but himself to blame for that, she'd given him too many chances and each time he'd been a fool; why had he done that? Why couldn't be accept love while it was the one thing he yearned for the most?

You don't deserve to be happy. This is what you deserve. Regret and despair.

His thoughts assault him viciously poking holes through his paper thin sheet of confidence. Each day without her and unread messages breaking him down into unrecognizable pieces, his walls crumbling like a sandcastle under the lightest pressure.

"Gang-tae, why are you so sad?" His older brother's voice draws him back from the depths of his melancholy, breaking the shackles of his self deprecation.

He sits from his starfished position on the ground, meeting his brother's warm questioning eyes. Immediately a smile spreads across his face, instinct kicking in.

Sang-tae looks at him, expressionless before he sits down beside him, reaching out a hand and catching his smile before slowly pulling down the sides of his mouth.

"It's fake. It's not real, you're not happy Moon Gang-tae, that's a fake smile. Why are you smiling when you're not happy?"

He feels the dam holding in his emotions start to burst before his eyes are swimming with emotions, twin lines scorch down the smooth skin of his cheeks.

"Hyung, I made a mistake." His voice squeaks from his worn lungs, sobs now wrecking his body until he's shaking apart. "I hurt Mun-yeong and I don't know if she's going to forgive me."

Sang-tae lifts a hand hesitating minutely before laying it on his head, air soft caresses on his thick hair. He almost melts into the brotherly brush, unable to recall another instance where his brother has touched him in this manner.

"It's because you're the little brother, you're just a kid still. You have to say sorry when you hurt someone , you have to say sorry and make them happy. Mun-yeong smiles when she's with you, a smile is better than a fight."

I have fun with you. I keep smiling.

He'd been so focused on his own newfound happiness he hadn't stopped to think about her, how much they'd both smiled when they were together. Her smile had been especially gorgeous, brighter than the sun moments after their first kiss. Her lips tasted as beautiful as they looked, her joy palatable on his taste buds.

He'd crushed that happiness under his feet that day on the beach, callously throwing sharp daggers at her chest, the vision of her clutching her bruised heart forever stamped in his mind.

I might not deserve happiness but she does and I....make her happy.

With a hiccup he smiles at Sang-tae, so young at heart but wise beyond his years. His wonderful older brother.

"Thank you hyung. You're right I need to make her happy."

"Yes she's my best friend, don't make her sad anymore or I'll scold you."

He laughs for the first time in days, happiness growing in his chest like a mustard seed.

Gathering his courage he meets his brothers eyes, finally prepared to be honest about his feelings for Mun-yeong, he's tired of hiding himself from the people he cares about.

"Hyung, I...like Mun-yeong. I want to be with her and I want to make her happy all the time." His confession eases the fear and concern that has been weighing him down, his shoulders loosening as the words escape his lips.

Sang-tae sinks into himself, scratching at the raw skin between his fingers.

He reaches out to hold his hands, rendering them still. He smiles at his brother, a smile that finally reaches his eyes.

"Don't be scared hyung please, I'm still your brother and I still love you. I just care about Mun-yeong too, my heart is big enough to hold both of you. Is your heart big enough big brother? Can you let Mun-yeong in too? She needs us."

Waiting with abated breath he watches the thoughts as they run across Sang-tae's face, shifting from one emotion to the next before he can properly decipher then until his brother finally responds.

"Yes. Mun-yeong needs us. She needs a family, we can let her into our family."

His heart ripples from his brother's generosity, he never imagined this conversation going this well. He'd ruminated about talking to Sang-tae always thinking his brother wouldn't understand and once again seeing that he underestimates his brother, she'd been right he just needed to be honest.

"You need to eat Gang-tae, I came to get you. Come on let's go eat, I'm your big brother it's just job to take care of you."

He lets himself he pulled away, leaving weightless. That night sleep finds him easily, his dreams are full of her.

Helpless is the only way to describe his circumstance, for once he knows exactly what he wants and is willing to fight for it but she remains elusive, not responding to any of his messages or calls, her voicemail now filled from his persistence.

The patients are the first to notice the change in him, their watchful eyes following his very move as he does his rounds.

"Your pretty smile, it's gone."

She's right, as his days without Mun-yeong pile on he finds it impossible to even force a fake smile, for once letting his true emotion show.

It's accidental that he runs into Sang-in, literally. Colliding chest to chest on the stairs to the rooftop, the manager teeters on the edge of the step arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance. The scene is all too familiar to him as he wastes no time to reach out and grab the man by his bicep, righting him before he can tumble down the stairs.

They both look at each other with trepidation before Sang-in pulls his arm free of his hold, mouth opening before his eyes harden and he spins around, intentions clear.

Hastily he calls out, "Wait."

Sang-in halts, the lines of his shoulder sharp and unfriendly.

"Please."

That simple word loosens the tension, he watches as the shoulders lower and after two beats Sang-in pivots around.

Dark eyes look at him imploringly, his expression saying more than words ever could.

What do you want?

Latching onto the opportunity he rushes to say his peace, "I care about her. I know you think I'm selfish and all I do is hurt her."

Steel wraps around Sang-in's eyes as if he's preparing to rebuke his excuses. Ready for a fight.

"You're right. I am selfish and I've hurt her a lot. It doesn't matter what my intentions were I still hurt her and I'll never forgive myself for that."

After a pregnant pause, a sneer glides across Sang-in's smooth shaven face, "So what? You're going to leave her alone and stop making her cry? Is this you telling me that you're giving up on her so she can be happy?"

His eyes dart all over that manager's face, before he finds what he's looking for. That's not Sang-in's secret desire, beneath the sneer his lips quiver as he awaits Gang-tae's response.

It's the easiest test he's ever been given.

"No. I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy, I won't push her away." He promises with his heart in his throat.

Their eyes lock in a staring match, he hides nothing letting his emotions pour through his eyes, taking down his walls. Sang-in takes a deep breath before answering.

"Okay."

It's such a simple answer but with it he feels Sang-in's reluctant acceptance, their happiness was connected and despite his anger Sang-in couldn't deny that. The answer boosts his confidence.

He has to find her.

He's at work when he gets the message from Sang-tae, Mun-yeong text me. She sent me a picture.

He races to the staff lounge, phone precariously clutched in his hands as he looks at the message. Disbelief and relief wash over him in submerging waves, before he can maneuver his trembling hands to type out a response he gets another message.

Her face fills his phone screen and his heart as Sang-tae sends him a screenshot of her message.

I'm okay Sang-tae. Don't worry I'll be back.

Pushing aside his jealousy he devours her picture, the downward tilt of her lips doing nothing to lessen her beauty, those black orbs shining through the luminance of his phone.

Once his heartbeat slows down to a manageable rhythm he looks at the picture once more, scouring for clues and immediately his memory whorls as he takes in the door in the background.

She's gone back to where he'd finally let go.

Maybe he still has a chance.

With that though fueling his movement he runs through the door, stomping to the director's office.

Director Oh smirks at his stuttered excuse before chuckling and nodding in acquiesce, letting him leave his shift early.

He stands still in shock before confirming, "Really? I can go..?"

With a shrug the director waves him away, "Go, go I did worst things when I was young for a girl. Love makes us all a little crazy."

Blushing at how easily he's been found out, he bows low thanking the director before running out of the hospital.

As he bursts through the entrance door, a car horn catches his attention and he twists around until he finds the source.

Sang-in climbs out of the driver's seat of his rental car, walking closer until they are within arm's reach, wordlessly he tosses the keys into Gang-tae's hands, snatching the metal out of the air he looks at the manager surprise etched in very pore of his skin.

"Why?" He asks, taken a back by everyone's willingness to help him.

"Because I want her to be happy. You promised to spend your life doing that. You better keep that promise."

He hears the threat for what it is, impulsively he leaps forward wrapping the older man in a bear hug before releasing him and rushing to the car.

Sang-in's wide eyed stare causes his laughter to fill the car's small space as he pulls out of the parking lot and drives off to keep his promise.

The woman who owns the guest house grumbles when he arrives but shows him to Mun-Yeong's room and tells him that she's currently out taking one of her "soul searching walks". He waits outside, not wanting to invade too much of her space. He wants her to let him in.

Hours crawl by before the heavens open out releasing wet retribution that drowns the ground. Worry washes over him as he glances out at the road, willing her to appear and to his utmost surprise she does, materializing before him like a vision in a dream.

Her movements are unhurried despite the harsh downpour that has already soaked her, her clothes plastered to the soft curves of her body.

He watches her entranced, eyes feasting. She's here, his heart gallops giddy from her mere presence. He savors this moment of pure exuberance, knowing her well enough to acknowledge that she will not be as happy to see him. 

He's right.

Her words cut him as she rages, cursing his presence and demanding that he leave her alone. She sugar-coats nothing as she rips him apart the worst part of all is that she only speaks the truth. She's not vicious or malicious, he thinks he might have preferred that, instead of this piercing honesty.

She slams the door in his face and he's reminded of him slamming the door on their relationship on the beach. He deserves this.

He slides to the ground, placing one hand on the door that separates them.

It's my turn to wait.

"I'm here for you. I need you Mun-yeong."

She stares at him blankly, vastly different from the anger she'd just exhibited at finding him slumbering on her doorstep.

Without a word she spins around, slamming the door shut in his face once more.

Eventually he goes to find the bathroom, a warm bathe soothes the chill in his bones before he's forced to put back on his still damp clothes.

When he finds his way back to her, she's standing stock still where he once was.

A closer look reveals that she is not completely still, her small shoulders are rapidly moving up and down and after a moment's pause he rushes to her, spinning her around to face him.

Her face is crumpled in wet anguish, tears gushing from her eyes as she bites her lips to contain the sobs that are aching to escape.

"Mun-yeong." He breathes out before she tumbles to the ground.

Instantly he falls with her, gathering her in his arms, she pushes him away fighting to break his barricade. He lets her go. Arms falling helplessly to his sides. His heart breaks as he watches the woman he loves fall apart, helpless again to do anything to comfort her.

"I thought you were gone. Why did you come back? I accepted that you left me, why do you keep coming back damn it!"

Her cry breaks as her body continues to shake and he can't watch this anymore, his arms and heart empty without her weight.

Mustering his last remnants of strength, he pleads, "Mun-yeong please, can I hold you? I can't stand to see you like this, please. I'm yours. I'm here for as long as you want me. I'm never going anywhere."

Her moist eyes peer into his soul, searching. Before her eyes slide shut, slowly she reaches out her arms and he bolts into the space, a space just for him. He fits perfectly.

He wraps his arms around her slight figure, engulfing her in a deep embrace, her tears soaking through the collar of his uniform.

Time slows down as she shakes in his arms, her sobs quieting down until the sounds of nature fill his ears instead. He rocks her back and forth, patting her back as she clutches on his shirt.

When the last of her cries falter off he draws away from her, her beautiful wet face blessing his eyes.

Gently he reaches out to brush the tears from her cheeks.

She blinks back at him, sniffling before sighing and looking up at the skies.

"Okay. Let's talk."

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 6

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases here.

← Previous || Index || Afterword →

The Postal Company and the Auto-Memories Doll

   The current times were labeled as the era of postal business flood.

Within a continent that congregated small countries, the people who operated in the mail industry competed ruthlessly against one another. Putting it very simply, the situation of postal companies throughout the continent was of stealing each other’s customers.

Clients chose their mail agency of use and requested deliveries on their own. The reasons for the choices would be fees, deliverable areas, and of course, even the postmen’s degree of courtesy was a subject of deliberation. Taking all of those into account, they would pick one postal company from somewhere.

At present, as the management structure of postal corporations was becoming devoted to carrying the side-business of amanuensis “Auto-Memories Dolls” rather than only delivering mailed items, others were unable to establish a position in the market if their work leaned towards the latter. The more the competition increased, the more obvious the differences in services would become, and, as the superior and inferior ones would grow evident, the losing side would inevitably close down their company.

Within such harsh rivalry, in a certain country named Leidenschaftlich, located in the continent’s southern coast, there was a postal agency so-called CH Postal Service had boomed its name throughout the industry. Although it was a newly introduced company that had but a few years since being founded, its reputation was exceptional. The degree of customer satisfaction was high, and there was abundance of re-users.

On a general view, there were two motives behind its good results.

The first one was that the CH Postal Service had no restrictions to its areas of delivery. Should a client desire, it would deliver to any part of the globe. Of course, fees were imposed for remote places, yet that was the first attempt in the industry of pulling such a feat. Even existing postal agencies disputing for a leading position in the industry had determined delivery areas. The CH Postal Service delivered even to regions of conflict, therefore being a great help for customers whose family members or lovers found themselves in battlegrounds. Its patrons increasing in numbers was something logical. However, succeeding in doing such a thing as though it were extremely natural was terribly difficult for ordinary companies. The CH Postal Service was in condition to go anywhere for a client’s sake, as it had assembled the personnel and system capable of making it possible – therefore, it had managed to do so.

The second reason was that there existed a top star in CH Postal Service, who had come into sight in the Auto-Memories Doll business like a comet. Seeing her walk around the city would cause people to do double takes at her looks, and hearing her voice would paint their cheeks red out of fascination. She was a perfect beauty that seemed to have come out of a mythological legend. As of late, a play that the famous dramatist Oscar had written using her image had been announced and gained popularity, making her renowned even outside of the industry as per synergy.

People probably envisioned just what type of woman she was. Mostly, their expectations were betrayed in good ways. She was a woman that surpassed the categorical components of imagination.

Her name was Violet Evergarden.

The largest trading place of the continent was a port that served as a gate from and to the sea. It was a national interest of Leidenschaftlich’s, as well as a trigger for wars. Countless other countries had attempted to invade it, seeking its abundant resources and a privileged location.

Although the city was at financial ease with the prosperity of its economy, scars of old battles remained in some places. The symbols of long military service from the past had not been etched solely in protection walls or stone-paved roads. It could be said that the fountain built in the capital Leiden during the celebration of Leidenschaftlich’s hundredth anniversary was its most well-known marking.

Consisting of a total of nine goddess statues holding water vases on their shoulders, it worked in a way that groundwater poured out them. Despite it being a gem made by a nationally employed artist, the goddesses had their necks chopped off. It remained unfixed, for the sake of not letting anyone forget Leidenschaftlich’s disgrace in authorizing the invasion of another country’s castle town.

In spite of being a major commercial nation, it was a military state. There were armed soldiers amidst the lively cityscapes even during times of peace.

The members of the CH Postal Company had such country as their home.

“Oh, what’cha doing?”

“My.”

“It has been a while.”

Under a beautiful autumn sky, a group that rarely gathered met in front of the headless goddesses’ fountain. They were two women and one man.

“If it isn’t Cattleya and V. Have you come out to welcome the great me, unable to wait for my return?”

Leaving his motorcycle parked by the roadside and heartily eating grilled chicken was a postman clad in a glass-green shirt. His slender boots of cross-shaped heels gave out a devious sex appeal. Hidden behind sandy-blond hair, his light blue eyes were provocative. His unmanly, soft facial features were not gentle. It was Benedict Blue, who worked at the CH Postal Company.

“What’re you saying? I’m gonna ask again: what’re you saying? T-There’s no way I’d come pick you up! I just went out shopping as an errand for my beloved President. Violet, say something too. To this platform shoes man. Nobody called for you.”

The one who spoke as if to smooth things over with a moody voice was a beautiful woman of gracefully wavy dark hair. She had amethyst eyes and an hourglass shape. Brimming with enough sensuality to enslave the opposite sex, her body was enveloped in a carmine dress-coat with a waist ribbon, yet was about to burst out of it. She was Cattleya Baudelaire, who also worked at the CH Postal Company.

“You two, you are being too loud out in the street.”

Reproaching the duo with a voice of silver bells was an elegantly beautiful girl dressed up like a porcelain doll. Said person had a hairband made of embroidery lace sitting on her hair as it spread out in waves and was wearing a one-piece with plenty of such lace sewn to it, along with a chiffon trench coat.

“V.”

“Violet.”

She was Violet Evergarden, the top Auto-Memories Doll of the CH Postal Company, whose blue eyes enthralled those who looked at them, as did the emerald-green brooch sitting on her chest.

Benedict and Cattleya turned toward Violet, changing the addressee of their impressions in unison.

“What’s up with you?”

“Really, Violet, you’re pretty fired-up. You’re letting your hair down? Are you on a date?”

Pressed on by the two, the Auto-Memories Doll that the CH Postal Company had pride in, Violet Evergarden, cast her gaze to the ground. “Lady Tiffany... someone from my home arranged everything, but is it that strange?” Her voice sounded slightly embarrassed.

Cattleya observed Violet with a gentle look. “It’s not strange. You’re cute enough not to lose to me. Are you going to see the major?”

“Yes. It is still early for the meeting time, so I was going to buy a book for me to bring along.”

“That’s great; you’re looking forward to it, huh! Hey, she doesn’t look weird, right, Benedict?” Cattleya rejoiced without restraint.

“Tch,” Benedict clicked his tongue.

It had truly been a long while since the three of them had last gathered. That was only natural. At the CH Postal Company, everyone worked industriously every day. There were sporadic occasions in which they would be grouped on duty, but that was only when they managed to miraculously coordinate their schedules. They were mates who had been hired by their president at about the same time, so to say.

Benedict threw away the bones of the meat he had just eaten onto the road, peeking at Violet’s face while licking off the oil remaining on his hand. “Hu~n, well, isn’t it fine? Nice work.”

Although their faces were close, Violet stared back at him with her huge orbs without bending backwards.

Benedict flatly thrust a fingertip at her forehead in-between one big eye and another. “But the one who gets to walk you around gotta be me. As your older brother part, I can’t accept my little sister part getting eaten down by an old man. I’m better. ‘Cause I’m young and cool.”

It could be said that someone who had the nerve to say such a thing so imposingly was quite a rare type even amongst humanity.

With an aspect of irritation, Cattleya interjected, “A third party is gonna be telling you this, but Mr. Gilbert is super wonderful, is an adult man and I know Violet’s head-over-heels for him, so you’re the one who’s uncalled-for here!”

“What does ‘head-over-heels’ mean?” Violet immediately reacted to the term she was unused to hearing.

“It’s like being obsessed. Didn’t you say that the major was the only one for you?”

“I did say that, indeed.” Her brows furrowed as if she were troubled, her blue eyes slightly moist. She was most likely “embarrassed”. Perhaps becoming unable to say anything else, Violet wound up turning her face away.

The feeling of affection for that awkward girl, the envy towards her happiness and the complicated emotions from having a friend taken away by a man traveled across Benedict and Cattleya’s minds. Therefore, in order to dismiss it all, the two silently decided to ball their fists, pushing and kicking Violet left and right.

“Shit. Don’t go acting cute. You’re just a battlefield maniac.”

“Really, it pisses me off. You’re as strong as a bear! But you’re adorable.”

Perhaps not feeling any pain, or perhaps trying to figure out how to deal with such a situation, she resigned quietly and accepted the unwarranted violence. As seen from the sidelines, it looked like something close to bullying, but Violet was actually the one with highest combat capacity amongst them. When the physical strength of the three was put together, that sort of thing was no more than playing around.

“Listen, don’t let him touch you carelessly, all right? This is amazing, though. You’re like a fluffy dog. Cattleya, you try touching too.”

“Hey, don’t you go carelessly touching her with those hands either! Even the insolence of getting meat juices on a maiden’s hair has a limit! Stop it!”

“It’s fine, ain’t it? It’s not like I just got outta the toilet.”

“Eh, does that mean... you never wash your hands!? Right? That’s what it is, right? No waaay! Violet, hey, come here. Benedict, don’t you get near us! It’s my turf from beyond this point! I’ll beat the hell out of you for territory violation if you come over!”

As Cattleya swung her legs, enveloped in Suède boots, to draw a line on the ground, Benedict opposed to it in a level as low as the next person, not losing to her. He picked a dead branch from the root of a roadside tree and did the same as she had. “Haah~? Then I’ll make everything beyond this point into my turf! Speaking of which, the way to your beloved president’s head office is behind me, so don’t you go back to it either!”

“Ah~, that’s unfair! It’s. Not. Fair!”

“It’s not unfair~! You’re the one who came up with it first~!”

It was a child-like action for members of society to take. Violet, the youngest one, regarded them with interest as if she were watching a dispute between animals of a new species.

That was a short-lived period of peace before an uproar occurred.

   At the same moment, in the same country, within the same city, time flowed peacefully inside the head office of the CH Postal Company, nobody aware of the nightmare that would approach them a few minutes later.

The business firm was erected in an alley away from the main street, projecting itself in the very sense of the word over rows of small shops. It consisted of a spire with a light green, dome-shaped roof and a weathercock on display, a deep green roof that spread out as if to surround said spire, and outer walls made of red bricks that had been sunburned into a tasteful color. The iron plate on the arch-shaped front gate made known the name of the company with letters printed in gold.

Should one open the door, a cheerful-sounding bell would announce the arrival of a customer. Upon coming in, one would soon find the counter, which was the sector where the reception of postal items took place. The building had three floors, with the first being the reception desk, the second being the office and the spire in the third one being the president’s residence.

No matter how far it was from the main street, the building was quite expensive. Its owner – an individual referred by the members of the CH Postal Company as “President” and “Old Man” – was drinking black tea with brandy at a balcony that had an unbroken view of the city.

“I’m so brilliant that it’s scary.”

He was a lady-killer good-looking enough to display self-indulgent behavior. His age was around the thirties. He had droopy grayish blue eyes, red hair grown slightly long, a manly build, and although he was not young, he had soft facial traits that exuded sophisticated simplicity. His appearance seemed to earn the envy and jealousy from other men of the same generation as him. His leather boots shone lustrously without a single stain, polished perhaps out of obsession.

“President Hodgins!”

The one who had yelled into the room was a girl of innocent features. She was the possessor of velvety, evenly cut lavender-gray hair that stopped above her shoulders. She had large eyes, a small head and a petite body. It was still the physique of a young child, but the heterochromatic orbs from behind the glasses she wore bore a stunning suspiciousness that was mysterious even. She was a person who the word “lovely” fit perfectly.

“Please say so after you’ve finished work!”

However, her conduct had presence as the secretary of a self-centered chairman.

Hodgins retorted mildly, “Little Lux, what I need right now isn’t brutal working hours but relaxation time feeling the gentle autumn air and drinking tea.”

“Even if you say that with a nice voice, it sounds like nothing but running away from reality! Please; if you at least put the stamps, I’ll bring you as many cups of tea as you want! Tomorrow is the deadline! We have to clear up most papers today and submit to the concerned parties in lots of places tomorrow! It’s the Flying Letters all over again!”

“You’re already my Miss Secretary through and through. I’m so happy. You used to look like a scared little rabbit when you arrived here, but aren’t you a fine working lady now? This feeling that I was the one who raised you is exceptional, huh?”

“President Hodgins! Please! Take the stamp! If you hold it, I can move you to stamping it... I’ll also read out the documents to you...”

“Then, Little Lux, doesn’t it make no difference if you’re the one doing the stamping?”

“I’d do it if I could! All that’s left is the stuff that demands the president’s confirmation, so just get on with it!”

“That ordering tone with formal language coming from a teenage girl is giving me unbearable creeps... Hm, Little Lux, hey. You don’t look bad with a shirt-blouse and a long flared skirt, but why don’t you try changing your outfit? I think I’d recommend a black apron dress over a puffed sleeve shirt, black tights and red enamel shoes.”

“Please listen to what I say!” The figure that had once been worshiped as a demigoddess at the headquarters of a cultist organization was absent in Lux Sibyl – what was there instead was the figure of a half-crying subordinate attempting to convince her vain superior.

Lux had been working serious and untiringly ever since being brought over by Violet and hired into the CH Postal Company. Perhaps having incorporated a methodical personality, she was now entrusted with even the duty of president’s secretary, yet she always had a hard time with said easygoing president.

The competence that the man named Hodgins had for business was unquestionable, yet his self-amusement principles were extreme and he would not stop fooling around even when having piles of work to do. Keeping his day-by-day in check was Lux’s role. In worse times, she would have to search for him and pick him up at brothels in red-light districts.

“If you don’t put the stamps, the one who will die isn’t you, President, but myself.”

Lux was tired of it.

“No way. I’ll put the stamps. I’ll put them, I’ll put them. Don’t make such a depressed face. Little Lux, you’re too pessimistic. Also, you take everything too literally. I told you that eighty percent of the things I say are random, right? Poise yourself more at ease. Let’s enjoy everything. Even the troublesome stuff.”

“President... you seem like you’d say this even if you had a hole opened in your stomach... I’m jealous.”

“Thanks. I’m the type that grows through getting compliments.”

She had wanted to convey something that was no compliment, yet it did not turn into words as Lux wound up having her attention stolen by something else. Lux’s golden and reddish heterochromatic eyes caught a strange thing in the skies against the beautiful cityscape that was visible from the balcony.

“President Hodgins... Over there, something is...”

At the same time as she spoke, Hodgins forcefully dragged Lux’s body, held her up and jumped to the end of the room. Lux was squeezed tightly against Hodgins’s chest, not allowed to even scream or raise her voice in confusion.

A few seconds thereafter, the sound of an explosion ensued.

   “Do you not hear some sort of noise?” Violet’s leveled voice eventually came between Benedict and Cattleya, who were having a scuffle fight. Her blue orbs were looking up at the sky, sighting a black object that passed by in a flash.

And it struck one of the classy buildings among the cityscape of Leiden.

“The head office is under attack!” No sooner than she said so, Violet bolted from the place. She slipped through people standing still with their mouths open, their attention taken away by the explosion sound that had reverberated through the idyllic early afternoon.

“No way, no way! Eeh?! What about the President!?”

“Get on, you idiot.”

Benedict had mounted on his bike before long. After whispering lowly, he swung a hand around Cattleya’s back, all too easily lifted her up, sat her on his knees and simultaneously turned on the engine, taking off.

“Wai—! Doing that all of a sudden is scary! It’s scaryyy!” Cattleya shouted, clinging to Benedict’s neck.

“Move! Move! Y’all are in the way!”

A young woman who was selling flower bouquets with a mobile catering fell on the spot, the horse of her carriage letting out a neigh. Ignoring the situation of the traffic in the street, Benedict rampantly chased after Violet. He gradually got closer to her figure, which had already become the size of a bean grain.

Benedict stretched out his hand. “V!”

Violet had been running at an astonishing speed, but upon hearing Benedict’s voice, she nimbly hopped onto his motorcycle. The two of them, who had a mutual understanding without the invitation of “get on”, exchanged words while paying no mind to the scandalized Cattleya.

“That sound was of Leidenschaftlich style artillery.”

“Did you see the cannonball’s firing position?”

“There is no mistake that it came flying from the west side of the city. Look, smoke is coming out of the head office’s third floor. If we suppose that it was shot from somewhere just as high, we can restrict the location, right?”

“It struck Old Man’s apartment, so there’s too many suspects.”

“How can you be so calm!? The President might’ve died!” Cattleya glared daggers at Benedict and Violet, yet the expressions that two had on were different from normal times. She quieted down without thinking.

“No way we wouldn’t be worried, right...!?” Benedict spoke even for Violet’s part.

The motorcycle that the three of them rode let out a roar while going up the slope.

   Caught under a bookshelf, Hodgins was straddled over Lux with his hands so as not to squash her. Lux looked up at him, dumbfounded.

“Little Lux, you can... you can take it slow, but sneak off from under me.”

The glass of the windows had shattered and scattered all over the place. The president’s desk, which was an order-made one designed by a master craftsman, had been smashed to fragments. The carpet had turned into ember and the room was starting to envelope in flames.

“President Hodgins... I-I’m sorry!” Lux crawled out, attempting to somehow lift the shelf with her powerless arms. However, it did not even budge.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Man~, I’d been skipping push-ups lately so this is taking a toll on me... Heave-ho.”

The instant he put on strength and lifted the bookshelf all at once, he rolled away and escaped from being crushed. He was the bearer of a considerable muscle strength.

Hodgins stood up and looked around the room. The look in his eyes was no longer the earlier one of a slacker chairman.

“Sorry; you okay?” Only the gentleness in his voice was the same as always.

“Why are you apologizing, President?”

“‘Cause this was an attack aimed at me, no matter how you think of it. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give your parents.”

“I don’t have parents.”

“That’s right. Then, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give you. Now, we gotta check if the other employees are all right...”

“Anyhow, let’s go downstairs; we’ll both burn to death if we stay like this!” Making a snap decision, Lux ran to the stairs that led to the lower floor.

Planning to go down through the balcony’s emergency stairs, Hodgins desperately called out to her, “Little Lux! Wait up!”

However, before Lux flew out the door, it opened automatically. Hodgins saw a brusque arm stretching before his eyes and taking ahold of Lux. She was dragged into the darkness and her frame disappeared.

“Little Lux...?”

By the moment that Lux reappeared before Hodgins, whose lips twitched, there was as a muzzle aimed at her temple. The one who pushed her forward while holding onto her shoulder was a man clad in a completely black suit. Six other men dressed the same way revealed themselves in succession. Hodgins’s gaze gradually became grimmer.

“How do you do, Claudia Hodgins?” The man referred to Hodgins by the name that he made sure not to call himself by. It was the name his parents had come up with while convinced that he was going to be born a girl.

Breaking into a distorted smile, Hodgins replied, “You’re truly one refreshing shitface, Salvatore Ridaudo.”

Salvatore smiled sarcastically as well. His hair was fixed with balm to the point there was not a single disheveled thread. He was the possessor of wood-brown droopy eyes, thick lips and skin as pale as wax.

“So, what is it you wanna do by shooting a cannonball into my office and thrusting a gun at my secretary?”

“My, good job figuring out that it was our doing.”

“I have a rough idea of it, but can’t you tell me… Mr. President of the Salvatore Postal Company? All that comes to me is that my academic background in the Military School was below yours.”

“How modest... What are you, an up-and-coming entrepreneur whose name everyone knows in the mail business nowadays, talking about? It’s very obvious what I’m after, right? The Salvatore Postal Company and the CH Postal Company. Two agencies competing for deployment in Leidenschaftlich. The fact that the other party is a nuisance certainly applies to you too, but I’m the one who’s been in this industry for the longest time. I can’t contain my frustration. Your way of doing things is... Anyway, I want you to obediently come with us. I wish to have a talk at a quiet place. If you do that, we’ll go home without inflicting a single injury on this cute lady and the rest of the employees.”

For someone running a postal firm, he was a disturbing individual. Calling him an underground chief would be more frankly agreeable. The men in all-black under his control did not seem to be respectful individuals either.

“Think you’ll get to live in peace after doing something like this? The military police’s coming over soon.”

“Seems like you have contacts in the military, but I myself have strong connections too. The military police monitoring this area won’t move an inch. I had them promise that they’d pretend not to hear anything the whole day, no matter how much noise we make. Claudia... Excuse me; is it okay to call you by your first name?”

Hodgins gritted his teeth to the point they let out a creak. “Go ahead. It’s the name that my beloved parents gave me.”

“Then, Claudia. If we keep talking so leisurely, we’ll both scorch. I want you to come along with us on your own feet.”

“Got it, I’ll go over there. But leave my secretary here.”

At those words, Salvatore went blank. He cast his gaze at Lux, who – perhaps from too much fear – had tears naturally welling up in her eyes, and broke into a smile that was rather merciful for an enemy.

And then suddenly punched her on the cheek.

His eyes open wide, Hodgins’s expression visibly dyed itself in rage. “You...! You laid your hand on a woman!!”

A man from the back gave her support as she seemed about to fall to her knees.

Side-glancing Hodgins as he shouted angrily, Salvatore wiped off the blood on his fist onto the sleeve of one of his subordinates’ suit. “I loathe women who think things will somehow work out if they cry. Sorry.”

His voice sounded as though he had not an ounce of pangs of conscience.

By the time that the trio had arrived, the people of the neighboring shops were helping put the flames down together with the firefighters.

Seeing that, Violet whispered quietly, “It is almost as if they knew there would be fire, isn’t it?”

Indeed, just as she said, the fire department’s performance was too well-executed. Thanks to it, only the third floor of the CH Postal Company received damage.

“You three! Over here!”

As they turned around upon being called, they found uniform-clad office workers of the CH Postal Company standing outside with burns showing and in a horrible state. A middle-aged man, presumably the oldest of that group, was waving his hand.

“Anthony, everyone, you okay? What’s all this?”

Anthony, the section manager of the reception desk at the CH Postal Company, had genteel facial features. He spoke with a demeanor and manner of talking that matched said features, “Every employee who attended work as of today is fine. However... the President and his secretary Lux have been taken away.”

“No way!” Cattleya let out a cry similar to a scream.

Benedict looked at Violet. She blinked several times. Her long eyelashes swaying widely displayed “shock” amongst her scarce emotions.

Her hand reached out to her brooch and gripped it tightly. “Who... and where... is the culprit...?” she asked in a low voice, still gripping it and not letting go, “Who... and... where?”

Her tone was an absolute zero.

It was so low and cold it went to the point of making whoever listened to it hallucinate that their temperature had dropped for a second. The air about her was bizarre, further enhanced by her usual robotic aspect.

Only one person moved within that freezing atmosphere. “V,” echoed the affectionate nickname by which Benedict alone called her.

Violet turned her head to the side.

“It’s okay.” That was a tone so gentle it was unimaginable coming from Benedict. “I’ll do something about this no matter what.”

Those words were almost like the ones that a true older brother would tell his younger sister.

Violet’s eyelashes once again flapped flutteringly. “I will do it.”

“You can’t. If we’re doing something, we’ll do it all together. Your plans for later gonna be okay?”

“The plans... No problem; Major will understand. Besides, Major would probably order me to rescue President Hodgins and Lux.”

Perhaps unamused by Violet’s attitude in demonstrating unwavering trust, Benedict ruffled her hair roughly. “Ah, that so?”

Her feathery, wavy streaks expanded even more. Unlike earlier, Violet protested with a “please stop” using her normal voice. The instability that had given a glimpse of her former self as a girl soldier was concealed and everyone in the surroundings exhaled relieved sighs.

“Hey, enough; I’m gonna ask about the rest. Anthony’s troubled, ain’t he?”

Having her shin kicked, Violet finally nodded.

Anthony resumed speaking, “The perpetrator is the Salvatore Postal Company. Its president who has the looks of a vampire and his followers dressed in black did this to the office… I tried to notify the military police with a detailed report of the circumstances, but they would not listen. It seems Salvatore has enormous support. I can’t think of anything other than information manipulation.”

Meaning that Hodgins and Lux had been taken by Salvatore and their whereabouts were unknown. It would seem that the employees left behind were first and foremost concentrating themselves on digesting the situation.

“When departing, President Hodgins told us, ‘I leave the rest to you’.”

“I’m so glad! They’re okay for now, huh!” Cattleya patted her own chest and welled up with tears.

“Salvatore’s the place that dispatches those postmen with black uniforms? If I’m not wrong, their head office was in Leiden, yeah? Those guys once went claiming a boundary to delivering territories, so I beat them into a pulp. Could it be… this was my fault?”

“Eh, what? The name sounds like a tongue-twist so I can’t remember just by hearing it one time. Salva… Sal… Salfa…”

“'Salvatore’, Cattleya.”

Imitating Violet, who pronounced it slowly, Cattleya uttered it as well, “'Salvatore’, 'Salvatore’… okay. Gotta be able to say it right. They’re the ones we’re knocking off into hell, after all. Well, when does the blood festival start? Of course, we’ll settle the accounts, right? We’ll go save the president and Lux, right?”

It was a crude statement, yet the people present nodded at Cattleya’s suggestion with an aspect that bore no sense of displacement whatsoever.

“Please pummel them.”

Benedict broke into a villainous smile at Anthony’s request. “Oh. We’ll do that. Old Man will be fine even on his own but we gotta save the midget.” Benedict vigorously hit his own chest with his fist.

Anthony let out a breath of relief at that attitude. “You three, what should we do, then? Should we call over the other employees? The Salvatore Postal Company owns countless branch offices, even abroad. Is this all right?”

Violet said after raising her hand, “We shall seize them simultaneously. In the national offices, there should be a spot by the windows with nothing but the reception desk. The three of us will take it over… However, the priority is to strike the head office first. Let us suppose that the location the two were kidnapped to is where the leader is. Depending on whether the people at work recruited as combatants are available, please notify them that we are seizing our neighbor agency, the Salvatore Postal Company. Hold a transmission for the combatant employees to grasp the entirety of the situation. We will entrust the information convergence… to you, Anthony.”

“Understood, Violet.”

She was the expected of a former warrior. With that, the chain of command was made clear.

Looking at Violet, Benedict asked, “V, ain’t you kinda coming back to being a soldier?”

Violet had on the same composed expression as always, yet the things she said were uncouth.

“I am not. However, counterattack for justifiable motives is permitted even during travels. We are merely going to resolve a quarrel between fellow post offices. The third floor is the one burning, right?”

Violet had a reason for confirming that.

   The trio stood in front of a thick iron door inserted unnaturally in the red brick wall at the back of the building. As Benedict squatted on the spot and dug up the ground, a small box covered in dirt appeared within not even a few minutes’ time. Inside it was a bronze key. Once he reverently brought it into the keyhole, the door greeted the visitors while ringing out a rusty sound. They took a built-in lantern and went down the stairs in the thin darkness. Soon, they arrived to their destination.

The basement illuminated by the faint light stored equipment that should not possibly be gathered in an ordinary company. They were firearms, swords, spears, axes, bows, shields and other fighting tools of all kinds. Even if that were the president’s hobby, such assortment of goods was not something an amateur could attain.

“He saw something like this coming and was getting himself ready, huh. He’s got actual self-awareness that people have a grudge against him,” Benedict said as if in admiration.

“Ah~! President got the tonfa that I said I wanted! The whip too!”

“One fist’s more than enough for you, ain’t it? Don’t go taking any more dangerous weapons other than that. V, what’cha picking? We got this opportunity so I’m gonna take the ones I’ve never used.”

“I...” Looking around the hidden weapons of the CH Postal Company, Violet reached a hand out to something wrapped in a tattered rag set against the farthest wall. “I have decided that this will be my weapon. Benedict, Cattleya.” Violet raised the object that was as tall as her with hand movements that did not allow one to perceive its weight. “Let’s go as discreetly as possible.”

The three stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Impossible, ain’t it? I’m pissed.”

“Impossible, isn’t it? With this group, that is.”

“So that is really the case.”

As the result of a discussion, they arrived at the conclusion that leaving the enemies half-dead without killing anyone was passable.

   Salvatore Rinaudo stared down at Claudia Hodgins. The person he detested was currently on an imported bear leather carpet of his personal choice, feeble and with wrists tied.

They were in a room encircled with black furnishings. The fact that said room was decorated with the personality of its owner was apparent one way or another. There were portraits of himself and bookshelves with double glass doors that did not seem to be opened often. There were also butterfly specimens and vases filled to the brim with fresh white flowers. Quiet violin music was playing from a gramophone, but it did not relieve the restless atmosphere in the slightest. Having her cheek punched and swelled, Lux Sibyl was seated on a chair, but one of Salvatore’s underlings had a gun thrust at her head.

Lux was constantly concerned about the outdoors. From the balcony, she could see Hodgins’s office at just the same height in the far distance. Black smoke rising from it, the structure of the CH Postal Company’s headquarters and of that building were awfully similar.

There was one more thing to note about the balcony. It was the artillery that seemed unlikely to have been placed there as an antique.

“Shall I tell you the reason why I despise you?” He stretched his arm as though to embrace Lux, caressing her, who had her right cheek swollen, almost as though soothing a pet cat.

As the cheek that had been hit still throbbed, Lux shuddered as if in pain upon the touch.

“Above all, it’s you yourself. You were born to a well-off merchant family, and used to belong to Leidenschaftlich’s army. Even though you were promoted up to the rank of major, you quit the military immediately after the Great War ended and founded a post office next, succeeding splendidly at it. People like that do exist, huh? The kind that can carry out anything just fine no matter what they do. In most cases, they stomp over others’ efforts with the sole of their shoes. And with a nonchalant face, to boot. I may have all this, but I’m one of the people who face hardships, so I detest those like you.”

“If me being superior is a sin, then go complain to God.”

“My second reason for hating you is that you rebel against the principles and rules that our predecessors established. ‘The CH Postal Company delivers to anywhere’? You make me sick.”

Hodgins shot Salvatore’s hand a blazing glare. “High quality at a low price for the costumers... That’s the basics of business, isn’t it?”

“Won’t you just crush those who can’t do the same if you turn this into a standard?”

“You get tripped up because you sit on your hands like that. Y’know, I just happened to think back when I was a soldier that a post office like this would be great and am simply making it into a reality. Letters that can be sent to any sort of battlefield. Postmen who can deliver them. Auto-Memories Dolls who can come to you if you so wish, even if you live at the heart of a sea of trees. What’s so bad about doing something I like with my own money?”

“There are still other bad things... What’s that building? Isn’t it almost like claiming that you’re going to replace the Salvatore Postal Company? The fact that only the weather face stands high up is also irritating.”

Salvatore’s hand moved from her cheek to her silver hair, which emitted a glossy luster.

“Don’t touch my secretary... Yeah, that’s right, I declared war on you. I’ve known you before getting into the industry. You’re all over the country I protected, doing stuff that doesn’t favor it.”

“What, for example?”

A bundle of hair picked by Salvatore’s fingers flowed in-between them, producing a smooth sound.

“The fact that you’ve been selling weapons behind the face of post office... You were selling national weaponry abroad, weren’t you?”

“We’re a postal company that has gentleness and courtesy as our selling points, so we do deliver anything that people request. However, I don’t recall delivering anything to the North.”

“That’s not the issue. Even if you didn’t sell anything to them when battles were going on, it takes just a bit of thinking to figure that this kind of stuff makes rounds, right? It was so unbearably weird... How come the enemy had weapons made in Leidenschaftlich? How come my comrades were getting shot by the enemy with them and dying...? I finally got to investigate that mystery after the war.”

Lux’s had her hair forcefully pulled and her neck bent backwards. Her scarf was taken off, her collarbone peeking from underneath her blouse.

Salvatore took the gun from his underling and pointed it at her chest. “If you know this much, you also know that part of my proceedings went to the military, don’t you? It’s not something that I alone wished for. Some people from your country, which you’d devoted your life to, merely wanted to increase their retirement pay a little. Isn’t that a commonplace story? Can’t you drop the moralist act? It disgusts me.”

“I’m no moralist—hey... how many times do I have to tell you not to touch...”

“Claudia, it’s not like you have a respectable life style either, is it? You wagered your whole fortune on war gambles and earned a large sum, wasn’t that it? Funds gathered from gambling are a hotbed for underground organizations and black market groups. With those funds, they sell off weapons, drugs and abused women and children. Even if you’re on the side that just milked it out, from the moment you placed a bet, you also made rounds and became someone’s assailant.”

“That’s why I said... I’m no moralist! I did all of it because I wanted to. You and I are both pitch-black at heart. But y’know, my secretary over there is a respectable girl. Didn’t you hear when I told you not to touch my secretary?! If you get anxious unless you’re touching something, just hit me or whatever!”

Perhaps because such statements rubbed him the wrong way, Salvatore did as Hodgins proposed, leaving Lux and kicking Hodgins’s face with his shin. Crimson hair swaying, Hodgins collapsed onto the floor.

Regardless, he grinned. “Thanks; should I take my clothes off while we’re at it? It’d get you excited, right?”

Salvatore grabbed Hodgins’s collar with rage. “How filthy. Your company is your human nature itself. I’m a victim. I want you to give me back the clients, routes and everything that you’ve stolen from me. I think being a soldier suited you better than being a businessman. Lying on the ground like this is fitting of you. Why... I’m just going to have you write your name on a document. Promise not to trespass my routes... It’s hard to do stuff with you loitering around. Lots of stuff, you see.” He let go abruptly, Hodgins’s face banging onto the floor.

“President!” Lux’s tear-mixed voice leaked.

Hodgins immediately raised his head and smiled at Lux. He went as far as winking at her.

Salvatore harshly told his underling to call over the official scrivener who would bear witness to their contract. He most likely intended to crush Hodgins’s post office through leaving behind a legal document with unequal contents.

“Tepid; you’re tepid.” Hodgins’s tongue licked off the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Compared to back in the battlefields, you really are dull...” As he coughed curt and subtly, his voice reached Salvatore. “My company isn’t just mine.” Hodgins looked out the window. He checked if something was coming and waited for it.

   “Salvatore Postal Company identified ahead,” Violet whispered.

Benedict was driving his motorcycle, Cattleya behind him. Holding onto Cattleya’s shoulders, Violet was standing on the edge of the passenger seat. Running through the cityscape in the early afternoon, the motorcycle carried not only three people but also uncovered armament.

“Hey~, there’s a huge tacky cannon in the balcony~.”

“All~ right, I was thinking about forcing our way through the front gate but change of plans. V, go off on that balcony,” Benedict said with a lightheartedness that one would invite another to go shopping with.

“Understood. Cattleya, please give me support.” Violet took into her hands a thick, long cylindrical object that had been placed on the motorcycle’s luggage carrier. It was something that could be called both a rifle and a rocket launcher. She rested it on her shoulder atop the running vehicle and determined her target.

Once Cattleya clung to her legs as to secure her body, Violet shot without mercy. Explosion sounds echoed throughout the city of Leiden for the second time that day.

“Impact confirmed.”

Pigeons fled into the sky, the townspeople darting their eyes about in search for the source of the noise. Meanwhile, the motorcycle that the trio was riding on gradually drew closer to the Salvatore head office.

“Sca~ry! But ama~zing! I also wanna shoot tha~t!” Cattleya shouted in joy upon seeing the balcony destructed.

“Won’t let ya no matter what.”

“You cannot no matter what.”

Benedict and Violet shook their heads in sync. Both comprehended that it would be dangerous to let such a naïve woman hold onto firearm.

“What’s with that~?! I also wanna go wild big time~! Isn’t it okay?!”

“Then, let Cattleya be the first to charge in. Please be contented with that.”

“What’re you deciding on your own? The first at anything’s gotta be me.”

“You follow me from behind. ‘Cause the one who’ll save our captive princess of a president is going to be me. A~hn, wait for me, President! Where are you!?”

“You... As if such a huge dude could be a princess. What kinda princess is that?”

“If you were as tall as the President, you wouldn’t have to wear those heeled shoes, huh.”

“You’re wrong! That’s not why I wear them! It’s because they’re cool! You... Imma make you cry later! I’m dropping by your place today, so get ready for it!”

“Yo... Yo-Yo... You idiot! What’re you saying in front of Violet?!”

Silently listening to the exchange between the two, Violet slowly took from the luggage carrier the handle of the weapon jutting out of the tattered cloth. “Then, I shall take this opportunity and go.”

They had no idea what opportunity she was taking, yet Violet nimbly jumped midair after saying nothing but that. As she landed on the ground, the motorcycle also stopped right in front of the head office with good timing upon scoring an ostentatious drift.

“Here I go, Major.”

The one taken into Violet’s blue eyes was the Salvatore Postal Company – a building that looked exactly like the CH Postal Company. Although it was a weekday, a “closed” sign hung on the door and five postmen clad in black frock coats stood by the entrance smoking cigarettes.

The stunning woman, the man mounted on a motorcycle and the beauty behind him appeared before their eyes. Ashes fell down in lieu of their surprise at the mystery trio.

“Wh-Who’re you?!”

While the men froze on the spot at her exposed unpainted face and moonlight-colored hair, Violet swiftly tore off the tattered cloth wrapped around the weapon in her hands. A battle-axe of a size unfit for swinging around in a city road revealed itself.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am an Auto-Memories Doll from the CH Postal Company; my name is Violet Evergarden.”

The name of the battle-axe wielded by that woman as ominously beautiful as a witch was Witchcraft. It had a silver blade, and the red rain that it dyed itself in from the number of people it had killed was a manifestation of its ill-omened existence.

“Apologies for you are in the middle of work, but could you allow us upstairs? Ever since our company’s president and secretary disappeared into your agency, we have not known of their whereabouts.”

As she held onto it, illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, her frame gave off quite a sense of misplacement.

“If you will not listen to our request, we shall exercise brute force based on the guiding precepts of our company.”

But as she wielded it, her figure looked appropriate. Rather, it was the contrary.

Raising the gigantic battle-axe blithely, Violet pointed the blade at the men. Instead of opening their mouths, the men took pistols out of their coats and pants and aimed them at Violet.

“The guys from the CH Postal Company are here! Don’t let them pass no matter what!”

“Violet!” Cattleya’s scream reverberated through the city roads.

However, the beautiful Auto-Memories Doll moved at the same time as the opponents readied themselves, dealing a preemptive strike in the blink of an eye. “Negotiations broken.”

A single blow from the battle-axe brushed away the postmen. It was an attack that did not cut them and merely struck their vitals using blunt weapon essentials, yet it caused three of the men to hit their heads against the outer wall of their company and collapse.

The remaining two men, who had dodged the appearance and disappearance of the axe, frantically aimed at Violet and pulled the triggers. Without any change in her facial expression, Violet twisted the battle-axe around and repelled the bullets with its blade. Switching hands, she pointed the tip of the handle at the opponents. It produced a ringing noise.

“Please forgive my rudeness.”

The flower bud ornament decorating the tip of the handle flew out together with a long chain. It knocked the two men’s pistols off their hands. She did not give the men, who held their hands down due to the collision, any opening to straighten their postures. This time, Violet rammed the battle-axe’s arm against the surface of the building’s wall and anchored it. While extending the chain and spinning midair, she dealt a flying kick to the face of one of them, made his face into her stepping stone and roundhouse-kicked the man next to him. There was no hesitation or mercy in her series of actions.

“Bu-But I was supposed to be the first one!”

“That was me!”

Indignant, Cattleya took a sack fastened to the luggage carrier, which contained her weapons. After thorough indecision between the tonfa, whip and other armory, the one she had chosen were iron knuckles.

Before anyone noticed, Benedict’s hands were gripping two pistols. He disabled the safety catch with practiced hand movements. “V! Don’t get too serious! If you’re angry, I can get angry for you!”

As if the people inside the Salvatore Postal Company had foreseen that someone would come raid it, postmen peeked out from the windows of the floors above with rifles in position. Bullets from Benedict’s pistols pierced their arms as he spoke, creating a rain of blood splashes.

“If this is the emotion called wrath, I want to rid myself of it quickly. Cattleya.” Violet pointed with her finger at the rocket launcher that had no more remaining ammo to Cattleya, who had put on her iron knuckles.

Agilely grabbing its handle with one hand, Cattleya threw it with heightened rotation speed after drawing it back once with much vigor. “One, two, the~re!”

Together with her adorable shout, the rocket launcher struck the postmen who had turned up in the upstairs floor, breaking through the window glass. Its destructive power was the same as a bullet shell.

The one who had flung it jumped up and down on the spot as if delighted. “Kyah~! I hit them~!”

It was not a deed that an average person, let alone a young woman, could normally manage. She was the possessor of tremendously strong arms.

“As expected of the Stupid Woman – or more like the Stupidly Strong Woman.”

“Shut up, Platform Shoes Man.”

“Ah, you on?”

“What, are you?”

The ringing of the chain on Violet’s battle-axe Witchcraft drowned out the duo’s little quarrel. One of the men screamed and threw himself out the window, falling onto a flowerbed in front of the company.

“Benedict, Cattleya. By the looks of it, the President and Lux are unmistakably inside this building. President Hodgins told me that he imitated Salvatore’s agency when our company’s office was under construction. If that is the case, then the highest position is probably the uppermost floor – the third floor. I am counting on you to follow the procedures.”

The two nodded in reply to Violet’s words.

“Let’s kick their asses at once and go celebrate.”

“We’re bothering the neighbors, after all.”

Before anyone realized, the city had gone quiet.

The Salvatore Postal Company was located in a completely ordinary shopping street in the city of Leiden. However, the passersby had fled within a few minutes, and the shopkeepers of the nearby buildings, as well as the buildings next to those, had closed their shops’ windows – the so-called display windows – and pulled down the iron shutters.

The fast action stemmed from their understanding that the city had become involved in the maelstrom of a fight. It was a particularity of citizens from a country that had long been shutting off invaders ever since its foundation. The people were silently waiting for the conflict to end.

“Well, then, let’s go in.” Violet’s figure as she gave the command with a clear voice was different from usual.

   Inside the chairman’s room at the top floor of the Salvatore Postal Company, the scenery visible from the balcony – an autumn sky where cirrocumulus clouds drifted high up and Leiden’s cityscape – had looked like it was inserted in a picture frame. Yet such beauty was something of a few seconds before, and now the artillery enshrined in it had received great damage from a sudden explosion attack, smoke rising from it.

Once ornamented with delicate sculptures, the rails were crumbling, and the balcony was in a state where one could fall straight to the ground if they put a foot on it. If the artillery were loaded with ammo, it was most likely not the only thing that would have been destroyed.

In that situation of settled chaos, Salvatore Rinaudo’s pale face went even paler and his mouth fell open as he spaced out, while Claudia Hodgins bit the inside of his cheeks to kill off his own laughter and trembled in opposition.

“What have they done?”

“Ahah—AHAHAHAHAH! Aah, I can’t anymore! Can’t hold back! This is the best!” Hodgins convulsed with laughter upon looking at Salvatore’s face. “What you so surprised about, Salvatore? Isn’t that what you did to us? Well, but... you wouldn’t think we’d do the exact same thing as you, huh! There’s no helping it! Ahahahah!”

Even Lux, who had all along been shaking with a darkened face, lit up with a sparkle of hope and laughed a little.

“Is this the work of you people from the CH Postal Company?”

“Who else is there? Our corporate philosophy is ‘an eye for an eye’.” Hodgins was in such a good mood that he seemed like he could break into song right then.

A few of Salvatore’s underlings went down to the floors below. Gunshots and screams soon echoed again. The fact that the screams had come from Salvatore’s subordinates increased his anxiety and impatience.

“They’re doing this even though you might be injured... What kind of training do you use on them?”

“Basically a principle of liberalism. Most of the personnel I gathered back when I was building my company happen to be guys with nowhere to go that I coaxed and took in... Don’t know if my preferences are biased, but it turned out that lots of them were absurdly strong fellows. The ones who’re here right now are definitely two of the Auto-Memories Dolls that were off-duty and... probably a postman that was scheduled to return to town today. They’re elite of the finest kind even among us. Salvatore, since it’s you, weren’t you supposed to investigate me through and through?”

“Your company’s employees are former soldiers and mercenaries, right? If that’s the case, so are our postmen...”

“They aren’t just former soldiers and mercenaries. Benedict is an ex-mercenary who had the nickname of ‘Battle-Hungry Freak’ in another continent. Cattleya was a boxer. She has arms so strong that no one can beat her by using force. And that beautiful girl whose name you can even say everyone knows in the Auto-Memories Doll business... my adorable Little Violet, used to be Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier. It’s in the past, though.” Hodgins smiled at Lux. “By the way, my secretary is a former demigoddess.”

“‘Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier’?”

“Didn’t your patrons tell you anything? Well, she was treated as a secret in a way, so it isn’t impossible for civilians not to know about her. The military went as far as creating a troop just for her and made her work for them, but they never gave her recognition or ranks. She didn’t have a surname back then and it seems people just called her ‘Violet’. My friend found and raised her... She was the leading figure of the Great War in the shadows.”

Salvatore reminisced to the photos of Hodgins’s employees whom he had made his underlings investigate. One that had been engraved in his mind remarkably vividly was a beautiful woman. She was a girl of exquisite, suave facial features. Even if one declared her to have been the strongest female soldier, nobody could believe it right away.

“How did you make a woman like that yours?!”

“She’s not mine.” Hodgins smirked defiantly. “And she doesn’t belong to the military anymore either. From the very start, she... Let’s stop here; telling this story to you is a waste.”

The battle’s tune gradually grew closer to the top floor. By the looks of it, the fuss was escalating to a direction where even angry yelling was ensuing. It seemed the owner of the voice was a young woman. Even amidst gunshots, the conversation between those two people did not cut short.

Hodgins’s smirk deepened, Salvatore’s face becoming grim.

“You guys, give polite greetings when coming in.”

Salvatore’s underlings readied their guns all at once. The tension reached its peak, everyone inside the room paying attention to the door. However, it was time.

“Lux, please cover your eyes,” a beautiful voice that did not match such a place, which had converted into a battlefield, could be heard from behind the staff members.

A black lump jumped from the balcony. It looked like a beast at first. A stunning and terrifying beast that moved its limbs gracefully and trampled over its enemies.

No matter how much the “hunters” who had taken notice of the beast’s existence made bullets rain on it, its feet did not halt by a single inch as it bared its fangs. It steadfastly ascertained the battlefield even as it danced in the air, wielding its weapon with astonishing precision, bringing everyone to the ground.

“A-Aaaah!!”

The arm released from the battle-axe pierced and gouged the shoulder of the man who had been thrusting a gun at Lux. The beast swung the battle-axe and stationed Hodgins and Lux to behind itself.

Salvatore took a few steps back, and exactly two factions stood in position separated at his right and left sides.

“Major Hodgins, we apologize for the wait.”

“I’m always telling you that it’s ‘President’, aren’t I, Little Violet?”

The beast – rather, the woman – shot a cold glance at the one that she perceived as the enemy.

“You—What are you?” Salvatore vented his confusion at the sudden intruder who held onto the completely red battle-axe.

She had white and smooth skin like that of porcelain dolls. Her blue eyes were as glass balls. Her hair of gold seemed to waft with a sweet fragrance. The girl was beautiful to a rare extent, but that was not the only thing that made one’s eyes widen at her.

A living legend that Salvatore did not know was standing there.

“Violet.”

The loveliness he had seen in the picture was concealed by a shadow, a turbulent atmosphere similar to madness surrounding her instead. An air of lethargic strategizing as to which of them would move first flowed by, but the stagnancy soon shattered.

“PRESIDENT———! LUX——!”

“OLD MAN!”

Callings could be heard in unison from outside the room. The massive door was then broken through as if it were as thin a paper sheet. The one who stepped onto the door as it collapsed with a tremor and entered the room while holding by the collar an enemy that she had defeated with her silver iron knuckles was Cattleya.

“Aa~hn! You two~! Found yoou!” She tossed the prey that she had nearly killed toward Salvatore and his group. Being able to fling a human being as if they were an object meant her arms were simply that great as blunt weapons.

Following her, a gun barrel appeared first, and after bullet sounds ensued, Benedict revealed himself. It was a shot meant for delivering the finishing blow to Cattleya’s offensive.

Shooting the legs of all the men in black except Salvatore, Benedict clicked his tongue at the gruesome scene inside the room. “What’s this? Hasn’t V eaten out most of them?” Together with a sigh, he threw away the gun he had been holding, taking out another one. “Old Man~, we’ve left only this important-looking old dude~.”

“Lux! Violet is protecting you, right? President! You’re tied up!” Cattleya ran towards Hodgins, who lay on the floor. Without cutting them with a knife, she ripped off the ropes that had been restricting him using the iron knuckles and embraced him boldly.

Hodgins patted her back with taps and hugged her lightly. “Sorry, Cattleya. Didn’t my adorable young lady get hurt?”

“I didn’t!”

“Atta girl.” Hodgins left a kiss on Cattleya’s forehead with a pop.

Cattleya’s cheeks flushed red and she turned her back to him looking embarrassed, stamping her feet onto her happiness on the spot.

Benedict tore Cattleya away from Hodgins and stood between them. Contrary to being angry, he aggressively hit Hodgins from face to torso, confirming that the latter was alive.

“Ouch, ouch, what’s this? A new way of expressing love?”

“You’re fine, huh, Captive Princess?”

“You were worried about me, Darling?” Hodgins merely replied with frivolous talk to Benedict’s cynicism, looking delighted.

Briefly biting his lip, Benedict faced the ground. Hodgins had a feeling that the eyes Benedict had directed at him before casting them downward were moist, and was inwardly surprised.

——Huh, could it be he really was worried?

“Hey, Darling. Benedict.”

His sandy-blond hair rubbed into a mess, Benedict finally resisted energetically as if to say, “Quit it”. Nothing that resembled tears could be seen in his eyes anymore.

“Who’s that ‘Darling’, Old Man...?!”

“Could it be you were pretty worried about me?”

He was fully convinced that Benedict would deny it.

“I was. Don’t make me.” Yet the latter directed his sky-blue eyes straight at him and said, “I was hella worried. Don’t ever make me worry again no matter what!”

As it was much too blunt, after Hodgins was taken aback, his face slowly turned red. He had anticipated they would come save him, but right now was his first time learning he was cherished to that extent.

“Ah... that so? S-Sorry, okay?”

“Damn... Don’t go getting kidnapped when you’ve got that huge body! Is Captive Princess #2 all good?”

“Fairly. Little Lux needs first-aid...!”

Violet undid Lux’s binding. The latter’s body, which had been trembling in fear, and the sound of her heartbeats, which had grown noisy, were regaining their calm.

“Thank you, Violet.” Enduring the pain in her cheek, Lux smiled at the friend who had come for her rescue. “I thought you were some noble prince.”

Violet furrowed her eyebrows as if troubled. She then resentfully held Lux’s hands and helped her up. “My apologies for not being able to protect you. But I will not let you go through terrifying times anymore.” Just like a knight, she made Lux retreat to behind her.

Albeit gripping his gun, Salvatore remained unable to fire a single shot at the mere three people who had taken control of his company. As he shifted his gaze to the side, he could see his underlings collapsed and moaning in the open corridor. “There was supposed to be... fifty of them,” once he opened his mouth, his voice shook.

“Ah? Your minions? Even if the numbers are big, it’s no use if the quality sucks. Actually, were there that many of them? I was counting, but... Stupid Woman, how many did you take down?”

“Stupid Benedict! Erm... ten. I probably beat up about ten people.”

“I got twenty. The rest was V, huh?”

“I simply came here by climbing the outer walls, so other than the beginning and now...”

“Didn’t anyone run away? The math ain’t adding up.”

They were chatting carefreely, yet the contents of the conversation were the number of people they had defeated. In addition, there was an overwhelming difference in combat power, for they were unharmed and not even their clothes had scratches. That was also a difference in corporation power.

Biting his lip as if in frustration, Salvatore barked at Hodgins, “They came late, and that’s why you’ve lost! I already had you write the contract! The official scrivener went to submit the contract we exchanged to the government office so that it’d serve as a demonstration of formal legitimacy. It’s probably already been accepted... Take your leave as you please. But I’m billing you for the internal damage caused by your subordinates and the injuries they inflicted on mine!”

Salvatore had intended to wreak both psychological and bodily pain on Hodgins for a while, instilling terror on him and making him lose the will to fight back, but now he had given up on it. What he desired most – the unequal contract – was in a state of legal effectiveness. As long as he had it, regardless of what anyone could say, the fact that Salvatore had the advantage would not change.

“Salvatore Rinaudo. What’re you on about?” However, Hodgins had a facial expression that denounced he was helplessly puzzled.

“As I said, your company can no longer enter our routes...”

“So?”

“No matter how much brute force we used, that’s nothing in the face of a validated official document!”

“Again... so what? The papers were indeed filed. Seems like they also were submitted before help came. What of it?” Claudia Hodgins, president of the CH Postal Company and former major from Leidenschaftlich’s army, generally had an easygoing personality, as well as a cheerful and frivolous attitude. However, he was now glaring at Salvatore without breaking into a smile, letting a glint shine sharply in his eyes. “Isn’t it a matter that’ll be solved if we crush down your company?” He rolled up his shirt’s sleeves and took off a wristwatch that one could tell was a high-grade product. Next, he squeezed the strap with his fingers so that the watch’s case would be on his knuckles.

Anybody who was used to fighting knew. If one was battling without a weapon, the object called wristwatch was an overly useful thing.

“Salvatore, if only you hadn’t hit Lux, I wouldn’t be this angry.”

Salvatore fired at Hodgins when the latter swung up his hand, yet it did not even graze him. Oddly enough, the bullet that had failed to kill a person shot through the middle of the forehead of Salvatore’s portrait sitting inside the room.

“S-Sto...” The word that Salvatore uttered were the end of it.

The fist swung by a 194cm-tall man who weighted 85kg struck into Salvatore’s face with a wind-cutting sound. As his nose was broken without mercy, Salvatore shed a large amount of blood. A few of his teeth tumbled onto the high-quality carpet as well. He had convulsions for a moment, but eventually became completely motionless.

“Did you kill him?”

At Benedict’s question, Hodgins put his ear against Salvatore’s chest, shaking his head after simply checking the other’s heartbeat. “He’s alive. Let’s leave him be.” By the instant he turned around, Hodgins had gone back to his usual self. “Everyone, you did well. I’m so happy; my employees sure are the best. And I’m also the best for having chosen you!” Hodgins sang praises gesturing exaggeratedly, embracing the employees who had come for his aid all at once. He then came closer to Lux’s side, planting a kiss on the cheek that had not been punched. “I’ve made you go through a lot, huh. I’m really sorry, Little Lux.”

“No, I’m the president’s secretary, after all.”

Seeing as she did not appear too bashful, that sort of kiss was likely not a rare action. As the thread of tension broke, Lux crumbled and shed large tears. Hodgins frantically apologized again.

“That’s not it... I’m frustrated... It’d be great if I were like everyone else, and also had strength to protect the president. If I hadn’t been taken hostage, things wouldn’t have turned out like...”

Cattleya gently caressed Lux’s arching back as she was unable to stop crying. “What’re you saying? Lux, you have it good exactly because you’re a normal fragile girl. Ah, but it’s not like I’m not normal either. I’m strong and pretty, but I’m a super normal girl...”

“Cattleya, what you say is inconsistent.” Violet handed Lux a silk handkerchief.

Perhaps due to their heights being about the same, despite their faces not resembling one another and their body types being different, the figure of the tree as they nestled close to each other strangely made them look like sisters.

“Seeing girls huddling together is kinda nice, right, Benedict?”

“Old Man, just hurry and do something about this place.”

“Should we huddle too? Shall we?”

“Don’t play around and give the instructions!”

As Benedict dealt him a strong lateral kick to the rear, Hodgins ceased joking. “Eeh~, then, all dismissed...! That’s what I’d like to do but I have a request. Anyone who doesn’t have any plans for later, please help me destroy Salvatore’s company!”

“He~y, Old Man.”

“What is it, Mr. Benedict?”

“You haven’t checked things out so you don’t know what’s been made of it, but we left the international offices to the rest of the fighter staff. The guys who stayed at the main office contacted them. Since it’s those fellows... they’ll take them out without worries.”

“Amazing! But we don’t have fighter staff! It’s not like I hired you with that intention! Well, since there have to be people who can go into battlefields, I didn’t not have that intention, but...”

“From the very start, that was our purpose, President Hodgins. So that there will not be such happenings after this, we believed that laying waste to everything and thoroughly annihilating them was a good plan.”

“Scary, scary. Your expression is getting scary too, Little Violet. Smile! It’s ruining your cute face!”

“President~! I want you to buy me a new choker after we’re done. Look~! The pearls on it got torn off... It was my favorite too.”

“Okay, Cattleya. Be it chokers, clothes or anything, this uncle will buy it for you!”

“Hum... President. What should I do?” the non-fighting staff member Lux tightly clutched her skirt, looking nervous.

“Little Lux, let’s go back to the head office. I’ll have you be treated there too. It’s all right; everyone in the head office contacted the other employees, so there should be people gathering there. It’s safer than you coming with us. Benedict, take Little Lux to the head office, and then regroup.”

“Roger; leave some for me to mess with too.”

“We aren’t sharing cake slices... Now, Little Violet and Cattleya are going with me to crush the branch offices just like this. Let’s decide on the rules for one. No hitting girls. Hitting bastards is fine.”

“Understood.”

“‘Ka~y.”

The members of the CH Postal Company continued their strategy meeting without paying mind to the people that they had defeated lying on the floor. When they were done at last, they exited the building while making so that those of Salvatore’s postmen who had stood up once again would be beyond recovery.

Lighting a cigarette, Hodgins started walking with it in his mouth, and everyone followed him as well.

On that day, within Leidenschaftlich, gunshots echoed throughout several areas of the capital Leiden, yet no one attempted to keep them under control. Additionally, the military police did not make a move regardless of how many reports it received.

   The nocturnal darkness deepened late into the night.

The lights were brightly lit in a bar at the corner of a business district. “Fully booked for the day,” said the clumsy letters on a paper pinned to the menu board in front of the shop. The figure of a seductive female dancer was drawn on said board. By the looks of it, that was a place where people enjoyed shows along with their meals.

The voices of people laughing pleasantly and lively music could be heard leaking from inside the bar. It seemed to be the feast of some company. The men and women were at a one-one ratio. Their ages varied and all of them differed in skin, hair and eye colors.

Even amongst them, there was an attention-catching few.

A young man was displaying splendid steps on a table with heeled boots that looked like womenswear. The dancers swayed their bodies together with him and danced purely as they pleased.

On another table, a beautiful woman was smiling while arm-wrestling with a man of fiendish facial features and plentiful muscles. Seeing as she twisted his arm in a matter of seconds, it could be that he let her win on purpose. However, the man who had lost rubbed his seemingly hurt arm with a strangely believable face.

A silver-haired young girl with a big gauze on her cheek was playing a card game with a blonde person of terribly tattered appearance. It was most likely poker. She looked troubled for not being able to read the other’s expression. While everyone else was emptying bottles of alcohol, only the two of them were making cups of tea into their nighttime company. Each was fixated with their own victory, playing in earnest.

“Ah~! I won~! I won enough to buy a kinda nice pair of shoes! Ah, Lux, aren’t those winning cards?”

“Women who can dance sure are great. V, you suck at playing this, don’t you?”

Benedict, who had had enough of dancing, and Cattleya, who had grown tired of arm wresting, came to sit at the peaceful table as if to intrude on it.

Lux put the cards that she had been hiding up to her lips on the table. “Want to quit poker, Violet?”

“That is right. The cards in our hands have been busted by a third party, after all.”

They did not have the will to get angry. If anything, Lux was so happy for being able to return to that trifling daily life with her companions that she wound up laughing. Perhaps due to the spot where she had been hit aching when she laughed, she arched her back with an “ow, ow, ow”.

“Are you okay? Is it not better for you to rest already...?”

“Yu~p, but I think it’s safer to be with everyone for the day... President Hodgins is here too so I can’t go home.”

Cattleya quickly reacted and looked at Lux’s direction with momentum. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve decided that I’ll be with the President today. See, it’s because the President’s home was in the company’s top floor. We have nowhere to sleep tonight, right? I also had that experience with being kidnapped... He was worried and got me a room at a hotel in the city. It seems President Hodgins will also be staying in it for a while. Until this mess is over, I’ll also be working from there. We’re going together today, so I have to wait for him.”

While Violet replied agreeably with a, “That is reassuring”, Cattleya became beet-red. One could tell from her face what she was imagining. She grabbed Lux’s arm and shook her violently. “You! Do you get what you’re saying?”

“E-Eeh? Our rooms are separated, y’know?”

“Cattleya, Lux is injured.”

“Not a chance. Dunno how many years it’ll last, but not even he is that shameless.”

“Hey! Don’t meddle into a girls’ talk!”

“Ah, you’ve said it. Then don’t barge into when I’m talking with the Old Man no matter what.”

Since another fight had decidedly began, as an accustomed form of coping, Violet and Lux left the two and started their conversation afresh.

“Speaking of which... Violet, are you okay? You’re dressed pretty cutely today... Could it be you were going to meet up with that person... with Mr. Major?”

The moment she received such question was exactly when Violet’s gaze had fixed on the bar’s entrance. “I am fine.”

Someone was heading her way.

Perhaps due to having come in a hurry, said person was out of breath. His sweat-dampened forehead was a proof of the efforts he had been spending until arriving there. He was caught by Hodgins and came to a halt, but even so, he aimed at and went toward her as fast as possible.

That person had soon spotted Violet from the bar’s entrance, and Violet had frozen in place the instant he had arrived as well. It was almost as if there were gravity between them that drew one to the other.

Violet stood up naturally and rushed to him.

——Ah, Violet.

Lux could tell.

——I see, so that’s how it is.

Anyone who was close by would be able to tell.

——The two of you are already like that.

After all, it was as though the air about her had changed completely the moment he had appeared.

“Colonel.”

The one standing there was Colonel Gilbert Bougainvillea from Leidenschaftlich’s army. Perhaps because he was on an off day, he wore only a jacket of fine tailoring and a shirt. Inquisitive stares from the people making a ruckus in the bar fell upon him all at once.

“Violet.”

After all, he was a man rumored within the company for moving the army in order to protect Violet. His existence was made known during the hijacking incident of the Intercontinental train, after which a year had passed not too long before. Of course, that was a story only told internally and Hodgins was publicly regarded as the main leader of such strategy.

The members of the postal company who had gathered up to save her had seen in person the man who came running while carrying her princess style. Back then, they had also witnessed Benedict being entrusted with Violet, his mouth open as if he had grown senile.

“Colonel, my apologies... I ended up breaking our arrangement.”

Her cottony hair was ruined. The outfit chosen for her and that her body was clad in had become like ragged cloths. Everything she had prepared for him had been reduced to misery today.

Nevertheless, seeing her dressed-up caused Gilbert’s heart to beat louder.

“You...”

“You look beautiful” was what he had started to say, but upon noticing a stare of pressuring quality to a fierce extent from the side, he trailed off.

Benedict seemed extremely unamused. He clicked his tongue as their eyes met.

“Anything the matter...?”

“Not really. There any law that says I can’t look at the bastard who snoops into V’s general area every once in a blue moon ever since that incident like he’s a rare sight?”

“You helped me out holding onto Violet back then. I’m grateful... And, I don’t know about any such law, but if it’s about putting up a watchdog act, I’m the one on top.”

Something like an electric shockwave ran between the two of them. Benedict remained not toning down his distrust regarding Gilbert until now, peeved by that man who seemed like he could become a love rival for Benedict’s significant other had he been in the same workplace as them.

“This was the curtain rise of their muddled battle!” just as the two had opened their mouths again, Hodgins cut in with a foolish commentary.

Silence. The two simultaneously glared at Hodgins as if looking at something deplorable.

Hodgins himself broke Gilbert and Benedict apart, coming in between them, putting his arms around each and laughing stridently, “Don’t fight for me! Man~, I wanted to try saying this once.”

“Shut up, Old Man!”

“Stay away, Hodgins. You’re reeking of booze.”

It was a conversation with a magnificent explosive power. By the looks of it, Gilbert and Benedict did not seem like they would get along, but their attitude towards Hodgins was similar.

“Old Man, tomorrow will be terrible for you if you drink too much. You’re at that age, aren’t you?”

“Darling... you’re saying that because you’re worried about me, right?”

“Hey, stop. Stop. I’m not a woman.”

As Benedict stepped away from Hodgins, who was attempting to give him a kiss, Gilbert and Violet were at last able to lock eyes with each other again. Violet had a face that denounced she had gone through a hellish time.

“Any injuries?”

“Minor ones. The same level as scratching a knee.”

“That’s good...” He was truly saying so from the bottom of his heart. Seeing Cattleya and Lux anxiously observing the two of them, Gilbert spoke further, “You too, any injuries? Aah... you need a medic.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

Lux had already received treatment, yet it seemed like her wound might open the next day.

Perhaps always carrying it in his person, Gilbert took a fountain pen and small notebook from his jacket’s inner pocket, handing her a paper sheet that contained a certain address within Leiden. “This is the clinic where my home doctor is. You don’t need to pay if you give my name, so go there another day. You’ll probably need painkillers for a while. Even in the hotel you’re staying at, please give my name to the hotelman if you need anything. We’re on friendly terms, so he’ll treat you well.”

Lux acted uncertain when accepting the paper. “Ah. Thank you very much. You’re very generous... Could it be... that the hotel reservation... Mr. Bougainvillea, erm... Colonel Bougainvillea, was made by you?”

After glancing at Hodgins, who was entangling himself with Benedict, Gilbert nodded. “That thing asked me for it. I can’t say this aloud but I’ve also disposed of... the documents submitted to the government office in the name of your company. When I use my influence in places outside of my jurisdiction... I end up losing one card that I could otherwise use in the event of an emergency, but...” Perhaps as if remembering something, he furrowed his brows a little and chuckled. “Hodgins took care of Violet. I also won’t spare any efforts for you all in case something happens. If there’s any worrisome matter, it can even be through Violet, but do tell me.”

“Y-Yes.”

Cattleya and Lux mutely let their cheeks dye pink. Was there any girl whose heart would not throb at Gilbert as he displayed adult-man-like reliance in a different way from Hodgins?

“Colonel, you’re so cool.”

“Colonel, you are wonderful.”

No, there was not.

For whatever reason, the two had their fingers interlaced in front of their chests and were striking the same pose.

Gilbert replied levelly, “You aren’t my subordinates so you don’t need to refer to me by my rank.”

Violet pulled the hem of Gilbert’s jacket ever so lightly. “Colonel, hum... would you like to sit down? You must be tired.”

“Aah, no. I’m sorry but I’m taking my leave. You too, Violet. The two are at the Bougainvillea house and we’re making them worry. I already contacted them to say I’d bring you back, so come along. It stopped by a place a little far away, but I have a carriage ready, so let’s walk there. Miss Lux. You... were together with Hodgins for today, right? Miss Cattleya, what about you? We can send you home if necessary.”

“Y-You know my name?! Mine?!”

“Of course; I heard it from Violet. So, what will you do?”

Perhaps due to extreme happiness at that, Cattleya slapped Violet’s back with quite strong vigor countless times, making merry. “I’m fine! I’ll be here with everyone until morning today!”

“It’s probably better if you’re in big numbers. Well, my apologies since we’re in the middle of a pleasant talk, but I’m taking her along. Thank you... for always being so close to Violet. Let’s meet again somewhere else. Please let me at least treat you to a meal.” Gilbert all too naturally took off his jacket and placed it over Violet’s shoulders. He began escorting her away just like that.

“Ah! Bastard! Hold on! V is my little sister part!”

“Everyone, good night. Benedict too.”

“Wait! V~! Hey—Old Man!”

Binding Benedict’s arms behind his back, Hodgins sent Violet a wink. It was true that he was drunk, but his tactic was probably to keep Benedict away from Gilbert. He might have been paying for the sin of making the two of them miss out on the time they had to spend with each other because of his kidnapping.

Hodgins and Gilbert merely exchanged short goodbyes such as, “I’ll call” and, “See you”.

“Benedict’s had an overwhelming defeat, huh.”

“Old Man!”

“Man, he’s rivaling you... but he’s also not.”

The two young women left behind spoke while still staring at the bar’s entrance.

“To be honest, the President told me a lot about Violet’s past after that incident, and I didn’t not wonder if someone like him was okay for her... but, when you meet him, y’know...”

“Yup, its different when you get to meet him, right?”

“It’s because he really did cherish her that he made many mistakes, did his best to take back a lot of things, and now they’re like this, huh,” Lux whispered, deep in thought.

   Treading through an autumn night in which the nocturnal winds were gelid robbed the two a little of the body heat provided by the warm interior of the bar. Violet, who Gilbert had put his jacket over, looked at him with only his shirt on as if to question him.

He soon noticed her gaze and their eyes met. He then smiled at her. “Aren’t you cold?”

Just from him simply throwing those words at her, as Violet was still unused to it, her heart raced. “No; Major, what about you?”

The times that the two of them met up were still at a point where they could be counted with one hand, and during such instances, the restraint brought about by his long absence would manifest itself in the form of agitation. From the perspective of others, that could almost not be perceived. After all, her facial expressions were generally emotionless.

“I’m fine. I’ve run around and sweated a lot today, so I’m still warm.”

“My apologies, Colonel.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for. I did that because I wanted to. Violet. It was also for Hodgins’s sake.”

“All right, Colonel.”

“Let’s walk a little slower. Once we get on the carriage, the way home will last a blink of eye.”

“Is that bad...?”

The one who had made the request was Gilbert, and the words Violet was about to say wound up dying out before they could take form. That was because he sweetly added, “I don’t have enough time with you”.

“All right, Major.”

Her eyes spoke more eloquently than her expressionless self. Violet’s blue orbs were glued to Gilbert’s emerald ones.

“I want to chat a little too. Is everything okay with that young man called Benedict?”

“By that, you mean...?”

“He seems to favor you.”

“He has another woman that he fancies. It seems they are in a relationship, and they themselves are hiding it but everyone around them knows.”

“That so?”

“Yes, he is... in an older brother-like... position regarding... my person, he told me.”

“Told you? That man?”

Their eye and hair colors were certainly similar, and the man could be said to be an androgynous beauty, but his speech and conduct were much too different from Violet’s.

“He himself was saying so.”

“Aah, he indeed called you his ‘little sister part’... Should I interpret that as him showing affection for you...? But it doesn’t look like we will get along very well.”

“Is that so?”

“It will probably be difficult.”

As Violet had heard the story of Hodgins and Gilbert’s past, she estimated that such assumption would be disproved. Gilbert and Hodgins were also a duo that one would not think got along well.

“It seems he’ll get in the way when I’m with you.”

Since Gilbert made a face as if he had swallowed a bitter-tasting bug, Violet did not voice her opinion in the end. “Major.”

“What is it?” As Violet called him, the middle of his brows immediately softened.

“If you had managed to meet with me as planned today, where did you intend to go?”

“Aah, I had actually made an arrangement for us to go horse-riding.”

“Horses.”

“You can ride army horses, and I think long rides aren’t bad if it’s on fine autumn weather days... Did you not like it?”

“Colonel, there is nothing that I dislike if I am in your company.”

“That answer makes me happy, but I do believe I want to learn about your tastes little by little. Kukuh.”

As Gilbert suddenly laughed aloud, Violet tilted her neck. “Is something the matter?”

“You... probably haven’t noticed it, but you’ve been mixing up ‘Major’ and ‘Colonel’ when referring to me.”

As he had been promoted from major to lieutenant-colonel and from lieutenant-colonel to colonel, it could be said that referring to Gilbert with a lower rank was terribly inappropriate.

Violet corrected her posture and apologized again, “I... am sorry. My apologies, Colonel.”

“No, that’s not it. I’m not angry... Ever since you were little, you used to call me that. The first word I heard from you was this one, too. I’m saying that if you can’t get used to it, I don’t mind the ‘Major’.”

“‘Colonel’... Colonel, I will not mistake it anymore.”

Her figure as she attempted to memorize it, in order not to forget it, was lovably stubborn. Gilbert caught a glimpse of her past self from that immature aspect of hers.

At the beginning, the two of them had had an inept exchange. Almost like how children would do it, they had told each other their names.

“Ma... jor.”

“Can you understand what I’m saying, Violet?”

“Major.”

After learning words and coming to know discipline, she had become his weapon.

“If that is Major’s order...”

“It’s not an order...”

“If... it is your desire...”

He had wound up loving the girl-weapon.

“Major’s eyes are here.”

“I wonder... what this is called.”

It had been a one-sided love.

“I will become your ‘shield’ and ‘weapon’.”

“I shall protect you.”

“Please do not ever doubt this. I am your ‘asset’.”

Even so, he had loved her.

“I love you!”

“I don’t want to let you die! Violet!”

“I love you, Violet.”

The girl-weapon had wept that she did not understand what she had been bestowed with.

“What is... ‘love’?”

No one had taught her about it.

“What is... ‘love’? What is... ‘love’? What is ‘love’?”

“I do not understand, Major...”

She had also not understood why he had said such a thing to her.

“What is... ‘love’?”

She had searched for the meaning of those words and for him, who had disappeared, encountering them by chance at last.

And so, they had reached the present time.

“Violet.” Gilbert took her artificial fingertips as she stood still.

Her index finger made screeching sounds.

“Since we’re at it, won’t you call me by my name?” He pointed her finger at himself.

The fingertips that used to be soft and have body temperature in the past did not anymore. The same applied to one of Gilbert’s arms.

“I am Gilbert. Gilbert Bougainvillea.” He pointed at Violet next. “You are Violet. Violet Evergarden.” He moved the finger both ways, saying, “Gilbert, Violet... Gilbert, Violet.”

The two who had ended up with mechanical part had grown and changed. They were not parent and child originally. Not siblings, either. They had also ceased being superior and subordinate.

“Lord Gilbert.”

At Violet’s predictable response, Gilbert smiled bitterly. “The ‘lord’ part... isn’t necessary.”

He had supposedly spoken gently, yet Violet showed him an aspect of disconcertment. “My apologies... Have you... come to hate me...?”

“No. I don’t know how to feel anything but affection towards you... It appears that...” while thinking that it was also valid for himself, Gilbert stated, “hum... you become insecure about it every now and then, but I’ll never hate you.”

“How come?” Violet asked.

How great would it be if he were able to show the insides of his heart to her? Presenting with a form that “this is love” would be so simple. However, it was due to not being able to do such a thing that people uttered words to proffer their love.

“Because I love you most.”

Violet started searching for that term within the sea of words embedded inside her. “‘Love... most’...” As they rolled out of her tongue, what appalling yet passionate words those were.

There was no other sentence more fitting of Gilbert Bougainvillea.

“Love me... most?”

“I have eyes for nobody but you. You’re the only one I’m fond of.”

“That is... to love most?”

“I will hold you dear for eternity, and continue to love you.”

She did not ask “That is... to love most?” a second time. Violet’s cheeks were rose-dusted, her heart started palpitating to the point of aching, and her field of vision blurred. She was unable to look at Gilbert’s face. Unwittingly, she cast her head down, yet he wound up peering at it. The distance between their faces was just about enough for them to kiss.

It was currently nighttime and the two of them were alone in that place, so whatever they did, no one would be looking. Maybe they could manage to keep it a secret even from God.

“I had a phase of... liking you... then I fell in love with you, and now, it turns out I love you the most. Do you understand?”

“Does it never diminish?”

“The affection?”

“The love.”

“I wonder. But I don’t want that to happen and will probably reconfirm whether I do love you numerous times, so it’ll likely intensify, not decrease. You fill me up with it.”

“With love?”

“Yes. The reason why I believe I love you is because you granted me that feeling.”

Violet Evergarden, who had been learning and copying from him – from people –, was able to take in the meaning of those words.

“I do that to you, Major?”

Again, her manner of referring to him had changed. Gilbert thought it was fine either way.

“You do that to me.” Gilbert silently planted a kiss not on Violet’s cheek or lips but on the fingertips that he was holding onto.

Silence.

Those were artificial fingers. She was unable to feel anything from them. Her arms were gone, and would nevermore return.

Placing a kiss on such a spot could transmit nothing.

Even so, he had deliberately kissed it in an affectionate manner. For some reason, that action – Gilbert’s feelings – caused Violet’s eyes to grow hot as if burning and produce tears.

Violet attempted to stop them. Those were incomprehensible tears. Why were they flowing at that moment? They would definitely trouble the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, tears were already pooling in her moist eyes until, finally, a single drop spilled down. Sure enough, the round tear that had fallen from one of her eyes left Gilbert distraught.

“Violet.” Seeing her reaction, he promptly let go of her fingers. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back, raising both hands as if to have her understand that he would not do anything else. “I’m really sorry.”

Violet did not answer. She stared at Gilbert without even wiping off the tear as if spacing out. Her attitude was not of anger. Her aspect was not of sorrow, either. He had no idea what she was thinking. She had the gaze of someone who seemed to be having a dream.

The two of them had lived separately, and he had thought that her facial expressions had become richer ever since they had reunited, but once she clammed up, he could not read her. Her lack of expression and well-featured doll-like traits did not allow Gilbert to study her emotions. However, the one thing he could fathom was that his action just now had been foolish.

——What am I doing?

He had told her that he would wait however long it took. The kiss on her fingers might have been a violation to that promise. He should have been the best gentleman for her, but he may have lost that right.

When she was by his side, she was unbearably endearing. The love towards her that lit up within his chest wound up overflowing.

“I swear I won’t do it anymore...”

The army colonel of Leidenschaftlich was losing face in front of the girl he was enamored with.

“Violet...”

What face was he making now? What did she think of it?

“Major, I...” Violet called him with her wind chime voice. She grabbed onto Gilbert’s fingers and took one step forward. The distance between them had shrunk once again. And then she took another step.

She was close enough to be embraced by Gilbert.

“Violet...”

“Major... please.” Violet peeked into Gilbert’s eye.

The emerald-green orb that had unchangeably borne beauty, kindness and a little bit of loneliness ever since they had first met was right there. Violet was now reflected in it.

Violet was inside his world.

“Do not swear so.”

Gilbert’s eyelid blinked at her straightforward words.

“Please, do not swear... that you will not do it.”

Seeing tears well up in Violet’s eyes once again, Gilbert impulsively reached an arm out to her. He caressed her golden hair as if to soothe her, earnestly listening to what she was attempting to tell him.

“Major, you explained it to me, right? That to love is to think of wanting to... protect someone the most.”

He wiped her tears with his fingertips.

Violet entrusted her cheek to his hand and shed more tears. “This has... applied to me since forever.”

She was attempting to replenish her lacking life. Rather, the truth was that the two of them could have done that from the moment they had met, for it was almost as if they made up for each other’s unskillfulness, but they had missed one another countless times and had not intersected well.

Violet’s chest was now being filled up with a warm feeling that she was experiencing for the first time.

“It always, always has, since long ago. I merely... did not know it...”

——This loud throbbing in my chest, this ecstasy, the fact that I end up swayed by your every action...

“I...”

——...the reason why I cried that I wanted to be by your side and asked you not to leave me anymore...

“Major... I...”

——...the reason why I am crying now...

“I, as of now...”

——...is that, once the “like” and the “love” fell and piled up like snow, and I became unable to melt them down, I had wanted to let you know that I wished the same to be valid for you.

“...have a feeling that I...”

People would declare it as if offering a prayer.

“...understand it better than before.”

“I love you”, that is.

[dudeandduchess]

Thank you for this, Biz!!!! My heart feels so full. 😂🍉 Also Tumblr was being dumb and not cutting things right, so... 

***

Chances: Merman!Kyōjurō x Princess!F!S/O [Part Two] (Mermaid AU, SFW Scenario)

Note: This is still set in the Taishō era.

Days had passed since the last time that Kyōjurō had seen the love of his young life. He had been so reluctant to leave her alone and defenseless on the beach, but he had no choice as the sun had already risen and there had been other people who were trolling the shore at that time.

It was a shame that he couldn’t have stayed long enough to see her awake up close— let alone introduce himself to her— but he couldn’t really shake off the sense of responsibility that fell upon his shoulders.

No matter what he wanted, he still had to keep his peoples’ existence a secret. Lest they be hunted down by humans.

So, compared to matters of the heart, the lives of so many merpeople were much more important than his own wants and needs. And that was how he found himself pensively staring down at the kingdom below him— covertly allowing his gaze to flicker from the merpeople going on about their days, to the bejeweled hair pin that he’d managed to keep for himself.

“Nii-san.” Kyōjurō jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, quickly tucking the glittering hairpiece behind a half-dead, potted kelp plant, and whirled around to face his younger brother.

“Senjurō!” He tried keep his voice chirpy and energetic, like it usually was, but he couldn’t deny that even he could feel how strained his smile was. “Did you want something?”

It was well past lunch time, so the older of the two couldn’t fathom what his younger brother would want from him at the time— especially since he knew that it was usually time for Senjurō’s home classes at that hour.

“What are you doing out of class?”

With a small frown marring his features, Senjurō looked up at Kyōjurō, trying not to cry at the heartbreak and longing that were wafting from his brother. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone else, aside from him who knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him.

The younger Rengoku couldn’t help but be worried.

“Sensei gave me a break,” He whispered softly, gliding closer to Kyōjurō with a little flick of his beautiful red, yellow, and orange tail— much like the same color as his brother’s was. “Nii-san… I… you seem really sad lately.”

The smile on Kyōjurō’s face faltered a bit, before tapering down into a tight-lipped and extremely sad smile that had Senjurō’s tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. It was the first time that he’d seen his brother so affected by something, that was enough to have him actually look like he was close to crying himself— and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Everything inside the older Rengoku told him to lie and dismiss Senjurō’s words, but he refused to push him away just like their father had always done; so, he swam over to the half-dead kelp plant and took the hair pin that he’d gotten from his princess a few nights ago.

“You see, I met a girl…”

***

The entire castle had been silent— way too silent for Kyōjurō’s liking— that it afforded him so much serenity to reflect back on how he’d met his princess; remembering how she had felt in his arms, and how beautiful she had been when he’d woken up with the first vestiges of dawn illuminating her features.

He felt his heart skip a beat at the mere memory of having her on his chest— blissfully asleep, and painfully unaware of the fact that a merman had saved her.

A long-suffering sigh left his lips at that, producing air bubbles that the waved away with a big wave of his pillow in the water. There was nothing more that he wanted than to be with her, but his own sense of responsibility held him back from diving into his half-formed idea.

What was even worse for him was that he knew of a way that he could be with her, but he couldn’t fully utilize that means unless he was absolutely sure of what he wanted to give up.

His own happiness for the sake of his father’s kingdom? It was the most selfish thing that he had ever thought of— and it was an idea that was proving to be more and more tempting as the silence dragged on.

Kyōjurō knew that he shouldn’t have, but he still got up from his bed and proceeded to sneak out of the castle.

All so he could meet with the Sea Witch Muzan, and possibly strike up a deal to get him to stay with his princess.

***

For the last few days, (Y/n) had been coming back to the beach where she had washed up on; hoping to see even a glimpse of the man whom she had a vague memory of dragging her up the shore and pulling her to his chest.

She had never been one to believe in otherworldly creatures, as well as beings that were well out of the norm, but she couldn’t help but think that maybe— just maybe— there was a sprinkle of truth in the books that her brother loved to pore over in their library.

It was messing with her head so much that she could barely even eat, and could barely sleep— as those iridescent, and hauntingly captivating, irises plagued her every waking moment; even her dreams.

Still, no matter how much she wanted to dismiss the idea of mermaids and mermen— of things that had solely existed in childish fairy tales— she couldn’t help but feel a little stir crazy at how all of the signs pointed in the direction where they existed.

It was the only logical explanation of how she had survived, while having hazy memories of having lain on a man’s bare chest. Even his voice had sounded otherworldly; melodic and so soothing as he had rubbed away the chill she felt seeping in her bones.

(Y/n) didn’t want to admit it, but her savior had managed to do what most of her suitors could not: captivate her to the point where she was questioning her own sanity.

Because, if she boiled things down, it would come to light that she was slowly becoming fixated on finding that very man. It wasn’t just to thank him for what he’d done, but it was to get to know him better.

To see him smile at her, and to hear him talk about what life was like through his eyes. She wanted, more than anything, to know if he was the one that had been fated for her all along.

And it seemed that fate was smiling down on her at that moment, because she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw a familiar mane of fiery blond hair poking out from behind a boulder; warranting her to throw all manner of social decorum in the air, so she could run over to the unconscious man.

“Sir, sir,” (Y/n) shook the blond’s shoulder, waiting with baited breath for him to open his eyes— or even just give her any indication that he was alive. And, just as she was about to get up and call for help, he began heaving slightly— trying to breathe and failing miserably, as he vomited some water, as well as what seemed to be a shred of seaweed, onto the sand.

The princess made a face at that— one that was a mix of mild disgust and surprise— but decided to look past that, as she tried to wake the man up again.

Thankfully, the second time she shook him awake, he finally stirred and opened his eyes— lifting his head up slightly and adopting an elated expression on his features when his eyes landed on her.

‘It’s you!’ Kyōjurō tried to yell out, only to have no words pour from his lips; and it was then that he remembered that he had traded his voice for legs. Though, what the Sea Witch would want with his voice, he didn’t know.

Shakily, he got up to sit on his newly acquired legs, taking a moment before he could balance himself on his haunches— much like how his princess was sitting across from him.

“Do you have a name? I’m (L/n) (Y/n),” She introduced herself, not even trying to bite back the smile that had her lips tilting up at the corners. Safe to say that she was as excited as Kyōjurō was, but that excitement was wiped away instantly when her eyes drifted down his body— taking in his chiseled torso, before inevitably flickering down to his lap.

Her face burned crimson with a blush at the sight of him; he was flaccid, and she had never seen a penis in real life before, but even she could tell that he was big.

“Oh my,” (Y/n) exclaimed softly, covering her mouth with her left hand and pointedly looking away from his crotch.

Kyōjurō then looked down at what had caused his princess to react in such a way, and blushed profusely before cupping his own hands over his lap; not even taking very long to figure out that the thing between his legs was his hemipenis… or, it had been, since he didn’t have a tail anymore.

So, deciding that that moment wasn’t the most ideal moment to ask him anything, (Y/n) gestured for him to stay put where he was, uttering a soft, “Stay here, please,” before getting up and calling one of her guards to get some clothes for her unexpected guest to dress into.

***

The ride back to the palace had been eventful, to say the least. (Y/n)’s guest had endlessly picked at his yukata, and had only stopped when they had managed to cross into the town.

He had even pressed his face up against the window of the car, watching everyone with unbridled fascination, and turning to her with so much wonder and amazement in his eyes. And she could only smile, as well as bite down on her bottom lip at how adorable he looked.

“Were you the one who saved me? Back in the sea, on the ship…” The young woman asked out of nowhere, unable to hold back the curious questions that had been hounding her to ask them.

Kyōjurō turned his full attention to her then, tilting his head to the side— as if digesting her words— and opening his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut and nod enthusiastically instead. He then pointed to his throat, shaking his head sadly as he made gestures of having something come out of his mouth.

“Do you feel unwell?” She asked, making Kyōjurō shake his head once more.

“You can’t speak?” (Y/n) was rewarded with a nod at that question, which had her frowning— because she could clearly remember her savior speaking to her.

She was sure that it was the same man from her memories, but her heart still sank at the probability that it wasn’t him who’d saved her— since the man in front of her couldn’t speak. Still, she kept an open mind.

“Can you write?” The princess questioned once more, eyeing the pouch that she had put on the seat beside her, and grabbing it so she could fish out the notebook and pencil that she had thrown in there before leaving the palace.

The blond nodded, more than happy to accept the items, before proceeding to write on the parchment. It felt so different from having to write underwater, and his penmanship looked like chicken scratch at best— not that he had much to work with in the first place— but he handed his answer back to her, a bright grin plastered on his face.

He watched her intently, feeling his heart race at how close they were. Their knees were almost touching, and he was close to passing out with her sweet scent ensnaring his senses.

Only, his smile turned into a confused frown when he saw her brows furrow in confusion; watching as she tilted the notebook at an angle.

And it was only then that it sank in, the more he took in the signages that were dotted along the shops that they passed by: he had a completely different writing system from her.

“Is this a foreign language?” His princess asked— making him helplessly nod— as he didn’t even bother to hold back the disappointed expression that crossed his handsome features.

Maybe, he thought, his plan to get a kiss from his princess— all so he could get his voice back— would be more difficult than he thought.

***

It had been six days since Kyōjurō had started to stay at the palace with (Y/n); being introduced to everyone as one of her friends whom had come over for a visit. And it didn’t take long for gossip to circle around about him being one of her suitors.

He didn’t really mind that rumor, as it was true— in a sense. What he didn’t like was that everyone kept badmouthing him, all because he couldn’t speak. They called him a snob for not wanting to talk to anyone, and all of the courtiers branded him as a nuisance— all because he smiled more at the servants and (Y/n), rather than them.

His conversations with (Y/n) were always one-sided, with her slowly opening up to him with each day that passed. It had started with her giving him a tour of the palace grounds, until she introduced him to horseback riding, and— eventually— to her favorite pastime: napping under the wisteria tree at the very end of the grounds.

It was private enough to not be bothered by anyone, and it was also enclosed enough because of the wisteria flowers that provided a suitable curtain to hide them from prying eyes.

She didn’t even know what his name was, but she felt so at ease with him that that little problem was always pushed to the back of her mind whenever they were together. It was as if, when she was with him, all that mattered was him and her.

Her duties took to the backburner of her mind, as she felt herself getting more and more enamored by the young man who could only nod and grin at her words.

He tried to communicate as much as he could with facial expressions, and they were always hilarious— which surprised even herself when she burst out into such an unladylike laugh the day he had made a disgusted face, when she mentioned one of the courtiers in the palace.

“And you know what she told me? That I needed to lose more weight to look pretty. Can you believe the nerve of that woman? I should kick her out,” (Y/n) ranted, her voice taking on an incredulous tone as she poured her frustrations from that morning onto Kyōjurō.

The blond made a face at her— his eyebrows crinkling together and his upper lip curling upwards in a show of disgust at her story, before he adopted a soft smile on his lips.

His eyes took on a much softer hue, and he sighed as he boldly reached out and tipped her chin up so she would look at him— since she had been picking at a wisteria flower that she’d picked up earlier.

When he was sure that he had her full attention, he let go of her chin and tapped the tip of her nose— making her blush at the blatant playfulness. And, as if that wasn’t enough to make her heart race, Kyōjurō framed his own chin with the backs of his fingers— doing the guesture of tapping her nose and framing his face a couple of times, until a flustered giggle escaped his princess’ lips.

“I… I’m pretty?”

Enthusiastically, the blond nodded. Grinning so wide as he settled back against the tree trunk, about to close his eyes when the breath was knocked out of him— as (Y/n) had pounced on him, boldly cupping his face in her hands before pressing her lips against his.

Fiery eyes widened at the move, and his heart skipped so many beats as seconds ticked by. It felt like an eternity had passed before she shyly pulled away from him; opening her eyes and pressing the tips of her fingers against her tingling lips.

(Y/n) couldn’t even believe that she had done such a thing— yet she felt no regrets in her heart. She even found herself trying to fight a smile, as she took in the dumbstruck expression on her beloved’s face.

Kyōjurō floundered around, feeling his own breath escape his mouth in a quiet exhale, as his expression morphed into disbelief— before eventually settling on a beaming grin. “U… UMAI!”

It was going to take way too long of an explanation to get his story across to (Y/n)— judging by the extremely befuddled look on her face— but he pushed that thought aside as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back into him; wanting to have more of her, now that he’d finally had a taste.

And they lived happily ever after…

Or did they?

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- part 16

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1591

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N:  If you’ll like to be tagged please reach out to me!  

poison & wine masterlist

Your eyes flutter open just to find the stars on the ceiling long gone. The light of the Asgardian sunrise had cast the darkness of the room away and you wonder how early you have to wake in order to witness it in person. You make a mental note to ask the girls but are disrupted by the sound of your stomach growling. 

Loki and you had unknowingly gone to bed early and had skipped dinner. It hadn’t been your intention but you were starving now and hoped the girls would be coming by soon with breakfast. 

Recalling Loki, you look over at his side of the bed to surprisingly find him still there. He seemed to still be asleep so you try to be as quiet as can be as you start to step out of the bed.

You manage to pull the bed cover away on your own making you suspicious of foul play the night prior. As you turn back to fix it, you find yourself staring at Loki’s bare back. You dropped the cover where it was and couldn’t help but stare. 

The entirety of his back was mangled with an array of scars. Some long and jagged, others short and straight. There was a variety and you wondered how he could have survived any of them. 

You had your history of scars. 

None on you but to the people around you. 

You recall your time as an army nurse. The mangled bodies you saw on a daily basis. New and old scars that scattered around the men fighting for their loved ones back at home. You knew what could cause them and how they could heal. You knew which ones would fade away with time and which ones would remain a reminder forever. 

Loki’s back was scattered with the worst ones you’ve ever seen. Especially as you recalled that his body was meant to be able to withstand much more than a mortal body ever could. Whoever did this to him must have been very strong and the pain… You can’t even imagine the level of pain he must have felt. 

None of the scars look like they healed with care. The way his skin was discolored beyond the wound made you aware that he must have been left to deal with them on his own. Wounded, tortured, perhaps left to die. 

Someone hurt him. Someone hurt him very badly. 

Your hand itches to run your hand across his back. An ill attempt to heal something just by the pure will of it. You know it’s impossible but you wish to at least try. 

So you do... or at least you try to before you’re interrupted by Loki’s groan. He hums as he turns onto his back to stretch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“What are you doing?” Loki asks. 

You pull your hand back and try to erase the last minute away from your mind. 

“Trying to see if you were alive,” you manage to lie. “You are awfully still when asleep. It looks like you’re dead.” 

Loki stares in response. His eyes narrow down at you trying to gauge if your words were true or not. Though in the end, it didn’t matter as he shook his head and sat up. His back faces you again but the scars you had seen had disappeared. His back was bare from any of it. 

You blink and then you blink again but Loki’s back remains scar-free.

Part of you wonders if it had all been a figment of your imagination, but like the bed cover and the stars glowing in the ceiling, you knew this cover up had something to do with the use of seidr. You just didn’t know why. 

A timid knock on the door disrupts your thoughts and you are quick to shift your attention elsewhere. You reach for your robe and tug it on just as Loki stands up from the bed and reaches your side. 

“Come in,” he bellows as he swings an arm around your waist and pulls you to him. You catch yourself on his chest and you have to refrain from following your instincts which were telling you to push him away. Instead, you let your hands remain where they are as the doors begin to open. “Good morning, girls.” 

“Good morning, your majesty.” 

“Start on breakfast without me,” Loki states as he pulls away from you. “I’ll be in the library doing some light reading.” 

He winks at you and turns to your handmaidens who are trying their hardest to stare at his face. Loki only grins and snaps his fingers to dress himself alleviating the tension in the room. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and eat?” you ask, capturing his attention once more. 

He turns to look at you in question and you don’t understand why you’re even offering to spend more time with him. The silence stretches out a second too long but Loki immediately fixes it by simply smiling down at you. 

“Missing me already, pet?” he asks. 

You couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at the question. 

“You know I always do,” you manage to respond sweetly. “It’s why I keep coming back to you.” 

Loki's smile manages to grow wider before he presses a kiss on your forehead. You let out your breath when the touch of his lips on your skin disappears. His hold on your face doesn’t leave as he tilts your head up so that you may look at him. 

His eyes flutter to your lips and a spike of anxiety runs through your spine at the thought of him kissing you again. 

He doesn’t. 

“I won’t be away for too long,” Loki states as he releases you. “I’ll be back to share lunch with you.”

Without another word, Loki makes his way out of your room leaving you at the care of your handmaidens.  

Loki flipped through the travel archives with exasperated boredom. He hadn’t realized how many outings were cataloged from the past century. He knew that Thor and he had taken advantage of traveling to other realms with any excuse at all. Loki was growing to regret it as each visit was written down. 

There were pages upon pages concerning Thor and his travels that Loki was having a hard time trying to narrow down other royal members who had left Asgard for whatever purpose necessary. It became more complicated as visits to Midgard were non-existent. 

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack except Loki didn’t know what the needle looked like. 

“Trouble?” 

Loki looks up from the catalog to find his mother staring down at him with an amused smile. He glances around momentarily to make sure they were alone and nods. 

“I can’t seem to find any trace of recent travel to Midgard,” Loki sighs out. “There’s too many transcriptions that it’s taking longer for me to get through them all.” 

“Hmm,” Frigga hums as she takes the book from Loki and looks through it. “Well, perhaps you should be looking through something more recent. The girl is a bit younger than this, isn’t she?” 

“I’ve started around the year of her birth but nothing appears,” Loki sighs out as he pulls the first book he started with from the stack. “So I assumed that perhaps her father arrived earlier.” 

“And you found nothing?” 

“Nothing,” Loki sighs out. “And I doubt anyone could have traveled down and stayed for longer than a century. Odin would never allow such a long visit.” 

Frigga scowls and sets the book down. 

“Well then that’s quite a problem, isn’t it?” 

Loki watches as her mother begins to pace.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her. 

“Either her father traveled through other means...” Frigga states.

“That’s impossible seeing as Midgard has travel records that indicate the Bifrost was used.”  

“Which then leaves us with another troublesome predicament,” Frigga sighs out unhappily. 

“Which is?” 

“That your father sent him down secretly.” 

“Why would Odin do such a thing?” Loki asks confused. 

“I don’t know,” Frigga shrugs. “It could have been a short banishment like your brother or perhaps another reason altogether. Either way, those records would be sealed with your father having sole access.” 

Loki lets out a heavy sigh unsure of what he was meant to do now. 

“This has become too complicated.” 

“It sure has,” Frigga agrees as she takes the seat next to him. “But for her sake, we must continue our search.” 

“How?” Loki asks. “By asking Odin?” 

“Yes, that’s…”

“No,” Loki interrupts her. “He’ll immediately want an explanation and what am I to tell him?”

“The truth, Loki.” 

“Absolutely not,” Loki exclaims. 

“Why not?” Frigga asks him. “For her safety? Or because you abhor the idea of telling the truth to your father?” 

“He’s not my father!” 

Frigga remains silent, her lips pressed together tightly. She waits for Loki to calm down watching his deep breaths return to a normal pace. He realizes his overreaction and turns to face her apologetically.

“I do not need to rely on that man more than I already have to,” Loki states. “I will find Y/N’s father and keep her safe on my own.” 

Frigga lets out a sigh knowing there was no way to convince him otherwise. 

“Then so be it,” Frigga resigns. “But whatever shall you do now?” 

Loki didn’t have an answer to her question. His only hope relied on you and so that was the only path he could take at the moment.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer​ @just-the-hiddles​ @jessiejunebug​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @smollest-soybean​ @assassinoftheworld​ @readerbandit​ @doyoufeelikeayounggod​ @strangemcuvlogs​ @ha-tep​ @i-dont-know-eiither​ @gene-king​ @day-dreaming-fox​ @bn-studies​ @is-it-madness​ @sigyn-njorddottir​ @devilbat​ @victor-criss-bish​ @skinny-macncheese​ @musicconversedance​ @baby-bunnyxn​ @fandoms-allovertheplace​ @marvelloonie​ @jinxjinxednova​ @queenmuahaha​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas​ @thesilentbluesparrow​ @oddly-drawn-muse​ @josiehosiedaninja​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @sadwaywardkid​ @wolf-lover74​

All Works Tag: @jmb959​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @hellocookiecutter​ @steve-rogers-personal-hell​ @buckybarnesyard​ @not-zari-tak

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Fourteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains graphic depictions of abuse. Stay safe!]

"This would be so much easier if you would just comply , Vega." Maxson sneered.

  "How the fuck else am I supposed to comply? Danse never told me he was a synth, Maxson!" Backhand protested, glaring up at the young man as best as she could with his boot pinning her head to the floor. 

  Across from her in the brig Brandis floundered against his shackles, the older paladin clearly furious but unable to articulate around his gag. 

  Maxson ignored him, leaning down and applying more pressure to the side of Vega's head. "My patience is growing thin , Vega. I refuse to believe that he did not confide in you. You're the only person who's been in and out of the Institute, no doubt keeping that traitor apprised of orders from the masterminds of his true agenda."

  "After everything that Danse has been through, I can't even believe that you would think he's a threat to the Brotherhood! Whether he's a synth or not!" Backhand retorted hotly. "So what if he is one? Synths can be rescued , wiped, reprogrammed with new identities. They aren't all infiltrating units, some of them are-"

  Maxson hauled her to her feet, shoving her back against the wall. The rivets of the brig ground through her Vault suit, making Vega grunt in pain. "You certainly have a lot to say in the defense of synths, Vega." He hissed, taking a fistful of her hair and forcing her to look at him.

  At the tearing sensation on her scalp, two hundred-plus years abruptly melted away for Backhand. She was suddenly in the pristine kitchen of their first apartment and Nate , shouting as loudly as any drill sergeant, throwing his briefcase in frustration, grabbing her neck and dragging her--

  No . She had fought back then and she could fight back now. Backhand jerked her head to the side, not caring whether she lost a handful or two of her hair. "Get your fucking hands off of me!" She snapped, and Maxson's gloved fingers slammed shut around her throat.

  "You would disobey the elder of the Brotherhood?" Maxson asked, a sinister smile twisting his mouth as Vega choked for breath. "I think your insubordination deserves repayment in kind."

  ...

  When Danse awoke, he was incredibly disoriented. His hands clenched tight into the blanket that covered him as he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, feeling his breathing stutter as he tried to remember what the hell had happened.

  Haylen . The message the scribe had given him. Confusion. Terror. Panic . Crushing it all down, I am a paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel I have sworn an oath protect sisters brothers skills weapons body -- 

  Finding the munitions. Elizabeth Knight Vega damn it departing to report back to Maxson, the paladin knowing almost definitively that she had no idea about what he was, about the hideous truth of his existence. Her giving him her lucky bandanna, wrapping it around his neck like a scarf, touch light and tender. 

  Fleeing the Sentinel site, abandoning his armor, the deathclaw, the walk of shame that culminated in...God, was he really a synth?   

  M7-97 .

  A synth . With a sinking feeling in his gut, Danse cast his mind back over his first memories yet again, growing up alone in the Capital Wasteland …

  If he wasn't a synth, surely he would have something more concrete than a hazy record of empty locations? Something tangible, maybe an encounter with a friendly trader or a scuffle with some other children, something . But nothing seemed solid until he got to the memories of opening his junk stand in Rivet City. Eerily similar to what Sturges had mentioned. At that point he had been an adult for several years, or at least he believed he was--

  God, his head was pounding . He was so confused. Danse pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying in vain to rub the tension away. 

  "Oh, you're awake! Good." 

  Danse jerked his hands down, shoving himself half-upright on his elbows. His confusion only intensified when he realized that it was Mrs. O'Brian who was currently hovering in the partially-intact doorway, the woman pointedly keeping her distance. 

  "Wasn't sure how fighty you'd be when you woke up." She said by way of explanation, "you looked like you'd been through hell."

  "Where am I?" Danse rasped. 

  "At the O'Brian homestead, just a little ways south of that Oberland settlement. How do you feel?" She queried.

  "I…" Danse paused, taking a mental inventory. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else. His face and shoulders were, admittedly, worse. Bandages pulled at his shoulders, the fabric wrapped over and under his arms. "I'm in pain, but the levels are manageable." He muttered, struggling to swing his legs over the side of the bed. "I have to-"

  "Whoa whoa, hold it! I did a lot of work getting you all fixed up, you're absolutely not movin'!" Mrs. O'Brian scolded him, waving her hands in front of her like Danse was a rampaging brahmin. "You are going to sit and heal, so help me God, if I have to strap you down to do it!"

  "Citizen, you don't understand . Having me here puts you in danger." Danse's brain finally caught up with the rest of him as he remembered, "you have children , a family, innocents--I shouldn't be here." He said in a panic, trying to stand again.

  M7-97 .

  Mrs. O'Brian scoffed, stomping over to the bed and giving Danse a careful shove in the middle of his chest. He was immediately knocked prone, his back hitting the mattress hard enough to make him grunt. "Don't give me that shit, Mr. Paladin. You're all kinds of banged up and you're not goin' anywhere ." She instructed him firmly. "Trouble might have been followin' you before, but you've already been out for two days and we haven't received any visitors."

  Danse blinked dully up at her. Two days . His stomach growled abruptly, hunger pangs digging in on top of everything else.

  "Now, you just sit tight and I'll get you some noodle soup, alright?" She patted his arm calmly, a fair contrast between her previous attitude. "If trouble comes, then trouble comes. Until then, we'll focus on getting you back to your old self."

  He was almost too weak to move, aside from adrenaline-fueled bursts. Danse felt anxious, skittish, frantic . What the hell was he going to do?

  He had to leave. But where could he go? He could return to the Capital Wasteland. Or maybe he should head north instead, run to the untouched expanses of Maine or the mountains of Vermont. 

  He had to leave. He couldn't stay here.

  M7-97 .

  He should be dead.

  "Mrs. O'Brian," He began carefully when she returned with the soup. "You don't grasp the danger of this situation. I'm a s…" His voice hitched. "A...a synth ." Danse finally forced the word out, speaking it aloud and solidifying it as reality. His empty stomach pitched violently.

  "That's nice. You can just call me Katie." The woman replied absently, patting his hand. "Should we get in touch with the Railroad?"

  " What? " Danse asked incredulously. " How can you be so nonchalant about this? I should be dead , I'm a monstrosity -"

  "Mr. Paladin, what you are right now is a hungry and scared man. So hush up and eat your soup." Katie interrupted Danse gearing himself into an elaborate diatribe. "If you were supposed to be dead, you would be." Her eyes were almost as green as Brandis', and she narrowed them at him. "I don't doubt that if you could have done the job yourself, you would have. And since you haven't ," she continued pointedly, "I'm going to assume you won't."

  Danse mulled over her words as he slowly consumed the soup, more water than broth and noodles. She was right, he realized. He was too afraid to end himself, and too cowardly to wait to be destroyed. 

  M7-97 .

  What the hell was he going to do?

  …

  He tried to slip away the following night, but his attempt was foiled by Mr. O'Brian's watchful eye. That and the fact that he was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Hell, just tying his boots up had almost made him pass out. He knew deep down that it was idiotic to attempt to leave while he was in such a sorry state, but he kept imagining the sound of vertibirds drawing near and the fear that the O'Brians could be in danger because of him kept him from getting any meaningful rest.

  The older man startled Danse out of his skin when he cleared his throat from his shadowed spot beside the door. "I had a feelin' you might try somethin' dumb like this." He remarked, shaking his head while Danse cast wildly around for a way to explain his current ambulation. "Have a seat, big fella'."

  "I can't stay, Mr. O'Brian. If the Brotherhood-" the paladin began desperately.

  "Call me Tom, Danse. I'm of the impression that we're in this together now. If trouble finds you, then it finds you." Mr. O'Brian interrupted him, inadvertently echoing his wife's sentiments. "Personally, if it was me in a jam, I'd much rather I was surrounded by people that care about me when trouble comes callin'."

  "I'm trying to leave so that you don't need to get involved-"

  "No, you're tryin' to leave because you're hellbent on runnin' from this problem." Tom's expression was sharp in the warm glow from the lantern. Danse had no idea whether Mrs. O'Brian had told her husband that their unanticipated guest was a synthetic freak . "You wanna' get the hell out of here, maybe go back to the Capital Wasteland and pretend like nothin' happened. But the weight of the truth is heavier than any sin, Mr. Danse. You'll figure that out. I hope for your sake it's sooner rather than later."

  "Mr. O'Brian, I...I don't know what to do ." Danse admitted softly, sinking down into the rickety chair beside the other man in defeat and putting his head in his hands. Everything ached. 

  "I can tell, son. You're all tangled up like Katie's balls of yarn. I don't have the answers for you. All I know is that runnin' away only prolongs the trouble." Mr. O'Brian rose slowly, muttering about his old knees. He clapped a hand on Danse's shoulder in passing. "The O'Brian family doesn't give a flying fuck one way or another about whether you're a synth, got it? And if anyone else in the Commonwealth has any sense left in 'em, they'd be wise to follow suit."

  Tom left him to think beside the door, and Danse was there until sunup the following morning.

  ...

  The O'Brians homestead consisted of an acre or so of land and an old, half-collapsed commercial brick building just outside of Forest Grove Marsh. Danse had apparently crash landed on their proverbial doorstep that fateful morning, though he didn't remember much after he had passed out.

  Tom and Katie had eight children, four sons and four daughters of varying ages. They ranged from the eldest, a boy named Eamon who was nineteen, to the youngest, a tiny girl named Siusan who was almost a year old. Between them was Thomas Junior (known strictly as Teej), then came the triplets of Connor, Matthew and Bridget, and the twins Kathleen and Fionnula.

  Danse had never had such a difficult time remembering names, consistently stumbling over Fionnula while the three-year old patiently coached him. 

  It didn't help that Connor and Matthew looked exactly alike, as did Kathleen and Fionnula. Bridget at least wore her hair longer than her identical brothers, so that gave Danse a fighting chance amongst the triplets. 

  Eamon was tall and lanky like his mother, while 'Teej' was on the stockier side like his father. All of the children were freckled and sported either blue-black or dark brown locks, further adding to Danse's predicament. 

  As the days turned into weeks and the paladin slowly regained his health, he found himself automatically settling into the schedule of the O'Brian family. It was comforting to have a routine. Maybe that was the military in him. Rise before daybreak, milk the brahmin, gather the laundry, weed the crops…

  His nose mercifully healed as good as new. No visible damage remained aside from a small mark at the peak of the bridge, right between his eyes. His shoulders were much the same, functional even though they were now graced with long, jagged lines of scar tissue from where the power armor frame had collapsed. Danse knew he was incredibly lucky to have escaped from a deathclaw so unscathed. 

  Tom managed to find a few old pairs of jeans that would fit Danse somewhat after the paladin expressed his concern at his threadbare jumpsuit. "From my younger days!" The older man claimed, tugging Katie close and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Back when I had to stay in shape so that my beautiful bride wouldn't grow tired of me."

  Katie chuckled, swatting Tom's arm. "If you thought a few extra pounds would scare me off, you don't know me very well." She teased. 

  Clad in blue jeans and a tattered assortment of too-small hand-me-down flannel shirts, Danse almost fit in. Almost. He still held himself a bit too rigid to really get away with assimilation, but Katie assured him he at least looked the part. He was still certain to make himself scarce whenever company came calling, not wanting to bring trouble to the O'Brians.

  He refused to be deadweight to the already-struggling family however, and as he was not exactly gifted in the areas of agriculture and animal husbandry, the paladin quickly fell back on one of the many practical skills he possessed. 

  Hunting.

  Only armed with his service pistol now, the man was up well before dawn on the days he stalked prey. He avoided the roads as much as possible, sticking to the brush. The last thing he wanted was to draw any attention to himself and, in turn, the family fostering him. Occasionally he was accompanied by Teej or Tom, both senior and junior relatively skilled hunters in their own right. Through their combined efforts Danse was able to contribute a bit more protein to the large family's diet, while simultaneously balming the concerns that he had about being a burden.

  Eamon was a quiet, peaceable young man and helped Katie manage the younger children while Tom was away. He was adept at settling squabbles and redistributing toys to keep the peace. Danse couldn't help but picture him becoming a knight and sponsoring countless fledgling initiates. 

  He then felt idiotic for still thinking about young people and children in the Brotherhood way, as if they were all destined to be military assets thrown at the next enemy. Danse slowly forced himself to recalibrate, doing his damnedest to imagine a world where a gentle man could still have a future. Maybe Eamon would be a teacher, or a merchant in tandem with his mother's wares. 

  Matthew and Bridget were all but attached at the hip, the two of them dogging Danse's footsteps and peppering him with questions when he was in the yard or weeding. The paladin had taken over a ramshackle trailer that sat across the road from the homestead as 'his', and the two children were always eager to visit as soon as he sat down on the front step in the mornings with his cup of coffee. Connor was a little more shy, hanging back from his outspoken siblings. 

  Bridget was the first one to demand that Danse show her how to shoot. "Papa won't. He says I have to be twelve." She huffed. "But I'm almost twelve, and that's like being twelve."

  "I'm sorry, little one. I can't go against his orders." Danse tried to soften the blow by asking her to teach him how to do something, which was how the paladin found himself learning how to make a poppet out of dried corn husks. Not exactly a practical skill, but he supposed he could do with a few less conventional lessons. 

  Connor actually approached him while he was being instructed, the normally-timid boy offering him a few pointers to make the task a little less challenging. "I'm not good at braidin' like Brigey, so I gotta' hold the ends real tight." He mumbled, tiny hands miles more deft than Danse's had ever been pushing and pulling his fingers to get the arms of the doll tucked properly.

  Bridget praised Danse just like her mother praised her when she accomplished something, and the paladin got a little misty at the notion that his own tendencies towards praise while he was in the Brotherhood might have made a few of the aspirants more inclined to be encouraging to their fellow soldiers. 

  It was hysterical to be supported by a child for his proverbial 'field work', but the way Bridget's little brow furrowed sternly told Danse that she was deadly serious and he should take her as such. 

  "You are very patient for someone your age." Danse commented, holding up his latest attempt for her inspection. 

  "We gotta' work together, Mr. Danse. Mama says I'm the strong one, Matt's the brave one and Connor's the smart one." She replied, squinting at the length of husk he had tied around the body of his little creation. "Almost! You're getting better and better." The thin girl clapped her hands like she was applauding him and Danse couldn't help his sad smile.

  "Show me again, please?" He requested.

  …

  Vega had no idea how many days it had been. 

  After Rhys had brought Brandis' evening meal (and snuck Vega something in the process), the knight had whispered that Maxson seemed to be waiting for something when it came to dealing with the two 'dissenters' in the brig. 

  "Not sure if he's trying to use her to draw the Institute into attacking us directly? I just don't get it." Rhys swallowed hard, glancing over his shoulder before continuing, "According to our field reports, Danse is dead. They bagged him out in the Sea and incinerated his body."

  Backhand had been expecting this news, but hearing it aloud felt like a kick to the stomach. She sobbed out once before she could help it, drawing Rhys' attention back to her. 

  " Fuck , Vega, I'm so sorry." The knight apologized tremulously. "He sponsored Haylen and I, he was fucking selfless and loyal to the cause. I don't...God, I can't believe he's gone."

  "Rhys, this cannot be allowed to continue." Brandis declared, "we are being held without trial, without evidence! Maxson has no right to-"

  "Anyone who questions his judgement is threatened with the same treatment Vega is getting." Rhys interjected dully. "None of us know what the hell to do , Brandis. The consensus is that we need to forcibly eject him, but no one person seems to have the balls to do it." The knight tipped his head forward in shame. "Not even me. If something happens to me, I don't know what might become of Haylen and I...I can't risk it. I'm sorry, Brandis. And Vega, you don't deserve this shit."

  "Don't apologize, son. I'll...I'll figure out something." Brandis replied sadly, letting the knight re-shackle him as loud footsteps heralded Maxson's approach to the brig.

  "Out of the cell, Knight Rhys." The elder ordered sharply, his voice sending a new frisson of scalding fury through Backhand's battered body. 

  He killed Danse .

  "Maxson, how long do you plan to stand on ceremony like this?" Brandis queried as Rhys obediently departed. "This is not justice! "

  "I see the knight forgot to gag you again." Maxson shrugged. "No matter. Nothing that you say will have any real impact." He tugged open the cell door and sauntered in, standing over Vega's crumpled body. "We slaughtered that abomination out in the Glowing Sea." Maxson chuckled in a self-satisfied manner. "It thought it could run from us."

  Backhand squeezed her eyes shut tight against the hot wave of tears that threatened to spill over, forcing herself to focus on the rage instead. "You're a real prick, Maxson." She rasped.

  Maxson caught her arm and roughly yanked her upright from the spot where she had collapsed previously, gripping her shoulders in a pantomime of a caring embrace. "We incinerated it and cast its ashes to the wind." The young man answered smugly, those cold blue eyes boring into her own when she mustered up the strength to raise her head.

  " You ," Vega seethed through her teeth at the elder of the Brotherhood, "were a fuckin' god to Danse, know that? You could do no wrong in his eyes. And you killed him ." The reality of it hadn't wholly set in for her yet and she clung to the rage she felt, nurturing it into a grudge in her chest. "But you're not a god at all, are you Arthur? You're just a scared little brat who got too much power too soon." She spat.

  Maxson ground his teeth, grabbing her by the throat yet again and slamming her back against the bars of the gate. "Keep testing my patience, Vega, and we'll see who the scared one is!" He roared in threat as she struggled weakly in his grip.

  ...

  The celebration dinner for Siusan's first birthday was surprisingly elaborate. The entire house was decorated with garlands of hubflower and ash blossom, painstakingly woven together by Matt and Connor. Katie had been baking with Eamon and Kathleen for the past two days, stockpiling a variety of sweet treats for the youngest family member's fête. 

  Danse, for his part, had done his best to stay out from underfoot. He helped Tom move several of the old tables together, and obediently smoothed the wrinkles out of the faded purple tablecloth that Katie asked him to cover the tables with. 

  Vega never even got to have this with her son , he thought somberly. No birthdays, no celebrations...nothing. First the divorce and then the war, one right after the other . 

  It was a saddening topic to think about and Danse found himself distracted by it. The fact that she had been so thoroughly robbed of raising her child, despite her oft-voiced trepidation of whether she was a good parent...

  Well, there was nothing he could do about it, was there?

  That night Siusan sat on her mother's lap at the table, staring wide-eyed at the child-sized mutfruit pie that was just out of her reach while everyone in the family sang her Happy Birthday .

  Danse hung back in the doorway, feeling a little awkward until Katie urged him in. Fionnula immediately clamored that Danse had to sit next to her. Sandwiched between Kathleen  and Fionnula, Danse slowly relaxed enough to smile and even laugh once or twice, his own attitude affected by the collective high spirits of the O'Brians. It reminded him of being at Sanctuary and with a melancholic pang, he recalled the simple meal he had shared with Elizabeth and her makeshift 'family'. 

  Not a day passed that he didn't think about her. Her smile, her voice, the pleased flush she got when he praised her performance in the field, her selfless nature... 

  Danse had convinced himself that she was better off without him, though. The Brotherhood would allow her to achieve her future goals of totally breaching the Institute's defenses, hopefully letting her enact that master plan of freeing any synths that wished to be freed. He just prayed that the Brotherhood wouldn't override her and decide to wholly eradicate the Institute instead. 

  Maybe once he got himself far away from the Commonwealth, he could send her a message. Something simple that wouldn't compromise her position. Would she even care, though?

  Danse, lost in thought about Elizabeth once again, didn't notice the young man looming in the front doorway for several minutes. Not until Tom called, "Garvey! You're just in time for pie, pull up a chair!"

  Preston removed his hat politely and Danse felt his heart plummet to his boots. "Evening, Thomas. Katie. I'm afraid this isn't a social call." Lieutenant Garvey said calmly. "I'd like to speak with you outside, Paladin." His eyes were flinty despite his mild tone. Dogmeat was at his heel, the large German shepherd's ears flat against his skull.

  Danse surprised himself by nodding, the paladin rising from the table with a murmured apology. "I'll return shortly." He promised Matthew, the little boy looking like he might pitch a fuss. Danse then followed Preston outside, barely resisting the urge to jam his hands into his pockets and hunch his shoulders like a squire waiting to be scolded.

  What he didn't expect was Preston's next sentence. "Alright, where the hell is she?"

  Danse blinked at the other man, suddenly confused and off-balance. "I don't understand." He said finally.

  Preston huffed angrily, "The general , Danse! She's been missing for weeks now, ever since you and your little tin soldiers were all getting prepped for heading to the Sea!" 

  Danse was sure all the color had drained out of his face. Was he going to pass out? Did something like him even have the ability to pass out? No, no, he had been unconscious before. But did that count as actual unconsciousness-

  He grabbed the side of the building to steady himself, his voice shaking when he pleaded with Preston to explain. Dogmeat whined, licking at Danse's hand.

  "How the hell do you not know?! She went missing on your watch!" Garvey protested. "She hasn't been seen at all, Danse. Not at any settlements, not around the airport... nothing . It's been a big fat radio silence."

  "Oh my God." Danse's voice was frail. 

  "You...you really didn't know, did you?" Preston asked incredulously. "What are you even doing out here anyways? Shouldn't you be at the airport with the rest of your troops? I thought Dogmeat's nose had busted when he led me here ." 

  Danse opened his mouth, then hesitated. The reality of being a synth was something he was still trying to come to terms with, but lying to Garvey would no doubt make everything worse. "Lieutenant Garvey, I must confide in you." He fixed his attention firmly on Preston's boots. "Some information was discovered after the first journey into the Institute. Something pertaining to me. I of course, was not made privy to such information before we had departed for the Glowing Sea, but another individual of the Brotherhood managed to tip me off in time. When last I saw Vega, she was returning to Waypoint Echo on foot per the elder's orders. After we were separated, I...I was fired upon." He said gruffly, the words filling him with a morose sensation.

  "Whoa, wait a minute. Danse are you saying you're a-" Preston lowered his voice, "are you saying you're a synth? " His heart hammering in his throat, the paladin raised his eyes to Garvey's and nodded wordlessly. "So what happened in the Sea, then?"

  "We reached our target and cleared the area without incident. She was under orders directly from Elder Maxson to report back immediately once the area was secured. I was tasked with guarding the munitions. I was attacked by my own troops, so...I fled." Danse confessed. 

  " Damn . That is...that's a lot , Danse. She had to report straight back?"

  Danse nodded. "Correct. Maxson was very firm on that."

  "You don't think your elder guy would have...I dunno', locked her up or something?" Preston suggested, pointing out, "You disappearing probably looked pretty bad. She'd be a suspect."

  The paladin swallowed hard, this new realization crushing down on him. "I had not considered the ramifications my sponsorship would impose upon her." He rasped. " God , Garvey, I didn't think...I didn't...I thought I was doing the right thing. Hell, I should have let myself be slain. I'm an abomination , I'm everything that I signed up to eradicate. Of course they would--God, I'm so sorry, if they suspect her, I..." His thoughts were a tangled mess, loping this way and that.

  "Don't be sorry yet." Preston grumbled. "What the hell am I supposed to do, Danse? She's the only way into the Institute. I can't just let her cool her heels on that fancy balloon, not when we're so close to taking the Institute down!"

  "If I had my armor, I might be able to sneak into the airport. But I don't." Danse said unhappily, burying his fingers in the thick ruff Dogmeat sported. "If I go anywhere near there without some sort of protection, they'll just gun me down. Kill on sight."

  "Now's not the time to consider a sweeping policy reform, unfortunately. If we got you a suit…" Preston trailed off, then changed the subject. "Pack whatever you have. You're coming with me."

  "Right now?" Danse asked. 

  " Yes , right now!" Preston retorted sharply. "The hell is wrong with you, man?"

  "I just...I'll need to say goodbye, that's all." Danse felt immensely awkward, but he pressed on, "The O'Brians have been extremely kind to me during my prolonged stay in their residence."

  "Oh. Oh . Okay, yeah. Go ahead. But make it quick!" Garvey blustered, jamming his hat down a little.

  Danse crept back into the O'Brian family dwelling, his footfalls muffled by a rousing rendition of The Ants Go Marching that Siusan was enthusiastically enjoying. This struck Danse as odd, seeing as how the only ants he had ever seen were the size of stray dogs. And why on earth would ants trouble themselves about the rain? Most of the irradiated insects seemed to love it.

  He managed to catch Tom's attention and pull him off to the side, explaining in low tones what was happening.

  Tom surprised him by punching Danse lightly in the chest. "I'm shocked it took you this long to get your head straight." The older man chuckled. "Go get her, Danse. Paladin Danse."

  ...

  The trek to the Castle, or rather Fort Independence, took almost six hours. Preston avoided a majority of the destroyed roads, the both of them tensing up every time they heard the whirring blades of a vertibird approach. 

  "They shouldn't be able to see us without using the searchlights." Danse informed Preston as Dogmeat flitted behind the supports of a ruined overpass. "They have no methods of thermal detection."

  "I'm still not taking any chances." Preston grumbled. " I've got people counting on me, Danse." Danse fell silent at that, just following after the Minuteman and keeping his mouth shut. 

  I've got people counting on me .

  Once upon a time, that had been Danse. An example to his brothers and sisters, the pride of the Brotherhood. Now, he skulked through the darkness like a fugitive. A traitor to his cause. A liar, by omission or by ignorance. A fraud . 

  Danse wiped at his eyes, frustrated with his own weakness. How the hell was he such an emotional wreck? He was a machine for God's sake. It was hardly fair that everything in him was screaming that he was human when he had already been backhanded with the empirical evidence to the contrary.

  M7-97 .

  He gritted his teeth, exhaling through his nose. He didn't have the luxury of contemplating his humanity at this point in time. Maybe someday, once everything had sunk in, he would be able to examine himself from a critical stance. But for the moment, it needed to be compartmentalized. 

  "If I cannot reacquire the general," he began cautiously, "perhaps I can still be of service. If I am a synth, maybe there's a way for me to…" A lump rose in his throat. "Return, I suppose? Breach their defenses accordingly?" 

  Preston hummed thoughtfully. "Vega did mention a synth reclamation department. And coursers , the guys sent out to reclaim the escapees." He shuddered, his grip tightening on his musket. "She had to put one of those bastards down to get what she needed in the first place. It was brutal. She said he almost killed her. I guess they're made for hunting synths or something?" 

  Danse felt sick to his stomach, remembering Vega talking about the courser mourning the loss of his friend. "Well, we have the option," He muttered, "should the need arise. Proctor Quinlan often said that the best edge is the unexpected one."

  The walls of the Castle solidified against the night sky and Danse caught the scent of the sea on the breeze, the smell refreshing his memory of finding Vega half-dead in the Minutemen's crumbling excuse for a fortress. It appeared that they had done extensive renovations since his last visit, however. 

  "Well well well, look what the lieutenant dragged in!" Sturges chuckled without humor from beside the outermost guard tower, his eyes uncharacteristically narrowed. Danse didn't miss the way his grip on his old rifle tightened. "You've got some explainin' to do, big fella'!" The cheer in his voice was decidedly hostile. 

  "Stand down, Sturges." Preston said wearily. "We need your help. You still got that suit you were working on?" 

  Sturges chewed on his answer for a moment before he finally nodded. "Garvey, you'd better not be suggestin' what I think you are." He gestured up at Danse with the hunting rifle. 

  "We don't have a lot of options, Sturges. He's been kicked out of the Brotherhood." Preston replied curtly. 

  Sturges did a double take. "You uh, wanna' run that by me again sir? The holiest of rollers was kicked out? What the hell did you do? " The mechanic asked Danse incredulously.

  Danse swallowed hard. "It would appear that I am...less human than I had been led to believe." He stated, trying to choose his words with care. 

  "Well, physically anyway." Garvey tacked on grudgingly. 

  Sturges' mouth curved into an 'o' as the truth dawned on him. " Ho then. That uh, explains that. Damn. Damn . But...shit. So where the hell is the general?" He muttered, as if to himself.

  "According to Danse, he's been on the run since their foray into the Glowing Sea. That was also the last contact he had with General Vega." Preston explained. 

  "I've heard about how damn wild the Brotherhood gets over synths. How the hell did you even escape?" Sturges queried, his tone suspicious.

  Danse cleared his throat. "One of the soldiers I sponsored tipped me off right before we set out into the Glowing Sea. Scribe Haylen saved my life. Originally I assumed that Vega was to be my executioner, but it turned out that she had orders from our elder to return as soon as we have verified the location." Danse paused. "We were separated and shortly thereafter, the Brotherhood attempted to end my life."

  "Just like that?" Sturges gawked. "How long you been Brotherhood, Danse? Good ten years? Fifteen? I can't even believe that shit. Pitched to the wayside on account of some fuckin' speculation!"

  "Not speculation, if Scribe Haylen's information was accurate." Danse corrected the other man. "My DNA matched the DNA of an escaped Institute asset known as M7-97."

  " Escaped , though. So you're a Railroad refurb like me, you ain't some shitbag infiltrator unit!" Sturges protested, ushering Preston and Danse further into the courtyard. "How could they just try to snuff you? Brotherhood's gone balls-deep this time."

  Danse hadn't actually thought about it like that, but he supposed it made sense. He wouldn't have been listed as escaped if he was assigned to infiltrate the ranks of the Brotherhood, that wouldn't make any sense. It was almost a relief to realize that maybe, just maybe there hadn't been some ulterior, coded motive behind him joining up with the Brotherhood. That and the fact that there wouldn't have been someone he was replacing.

  So for all intents and purposes, he was the original and only Paladin Danse. A comforting thought.

  Sturges wasn't done though. "If you're here and Vega ain't, that means your boys in armor have her. If she ain't dead, of course." The mechanic mused. "Might be that they thought she was in on your little secret and capped her instead of botherin' with interrogation."

  "I would greatly appreciate if you would not suggest that Vega is dead, Sturges." Danse's palms started to sweat, his breathing rough for a moment. Calm down, calm down .

  "Well I'd greatly fuckin' appreciate if she wasn't dead neither, big fella', but until we know for sure…" Sturges shrugged. "Anyway, to work. Got a real cherry suit here, a little pet project of mine, and if you're goin' to that airport, I imagine you'll want some protection."

  "I'll need it just to get near to the damn place at this point." Danse mumbled.

  Sturges' grin was a little less hostile this time. "I think you'll like your chances."

Part Fifteen

[sweetteaanddragons]

The Warrior Heir

When writing a crossover with another fandom, it is generally a good idea to pick a fandom that people are reasonably familiar with.

I decided to throw that right out the window because I really wanted to write this, and when it comes to fan fiction, that’s reason enough, even if this turns out to be of interest solely to myself.

So! This is a crossover that puts the characters of The Silmarillion in the world of The Wizard Heir by Cinda Williams Chima. If you haven’t read that, and still want to read this, here’s what you need to know:

There are two kinds of people: The Weir, who have magic, and the Anaweir, who don’t, and who generally have no idea that the Weir exist.

The Weir can be divided into five categories:

Wizards, who are far more powerful than all the rest of the Weir, and who thus, in the true spirit of the more cynical side of human history, seized control and immediately began using the other Weir as slaves. They are divided into two political factions - The Red Rose and the White Rose.

Sorcerers, who create powerful magic artifacts.

Seers, who can see the future, which is theoretically great, except they’re almost always really bad at it.

Enchanters! Who are unnaturally beautiful, unnaturally appealing, and unnaturally persuasive.

And warriors, who arguably get the worst end of the lot, because they can do cool stuff like fight inhumanly well and throw around fireballs and gusts of wind, but they ALSO get thrown into huge gladiator battles to the death until this whole subset of Weir is almost extinct because wizards decided proxy fights were a better way to handle things than huge wars that threatened to destroy the continent. 

If both your parents are a wizard, and all their parents were wizards as far back as anyone can remember, you will certainly be a wizard. If your dad’s a wizard, and your mom’s an enchanter, it’s a coin flip what you’ll turn out to be, and so on.

Now, for anyone who hasn’t stopped reading yet: On to the actual story!

Finwe is a wizard from a long line of wizards. He’s highly positioned among the White Rose party and widely feared for his power. Miriel is - not. 

To be specific, Miriel is a sorcerer. A sorcerer of remarkable power, certainly, but a sorcerer nonetheless. 

That Finwe would dally with her is nothing exceptional; that he married her is scandalous. 

Officially, she dies in childbirth. Unofficially, most people are certain that someone in Finwe’s own party poisoned her just to end the embarrassment. 

If the child had been a wizard, that would have mostly been the end of it, save of course for the gossip. A tidbit this juicy wouldn’t be forgotten for centuries. 

Feanor is not a wizard. He is a sorcerer like his mother, and Finwe still stubbornly refuses to do the sensible thing and get rid of him, either through the Trade or through . . . quieter means. 

Instead, he keeps the child and protects him as vigilantly as a dragon guarding his last remaining treasure. Attempts to convince him otherwise slowly taper off for two reasons: 

One, Finwe remains a wizard of remarkable power, and while his temper is slower than many wizards, once it is roused, he makes a terrifying enemy. 

And two, because keeping Feanor turns out not to be such a terrible investment after all. Feanor is a prodigy. 

Once, a long time ago, all sorcerers had possessed remarkable talent. These days, most are reduced to creating cheap trinkets. 

 Feanor creates items that seem more befitting a legend, and he doesn’t stop doing it. The Silmarils may gain the most fame, but nothing he makes can be dismissed. 

All of these, of course, are given directly to his father, whose armory is starting to look almost as impressive as his native power. 

People stop wondering what Finwe was thinking and start wondering how he knew this was going to happen. 

(Finwe didn’t know. Finwe doesn’t particularly care, except for the fact that people have stopped trying to kill his son. Now they keep trying to kidnap him which is not exactly good, but it’s at least marginally better.) 

Feanor knows exactly how much scorn his father endured for his sake, and he is fiercely, entirely devoted to him. He can’t imagine anything his father could do that he wouldn’t support with all of his being. 

He thinks this right up until his father decides to remarry. 

Indis is beautiful, gracious, and charming. 

She is also a wizard from a lineage even more impeccable than his father’s. 

Feanor hates her with every ounce of his being. 

She’s always very kind to him, but Feanor knows better than to trust that. Lots of people are kind to him. Almost all of them want something from his father, and Indis wants the biggest prize of all. 

But his father marries her despite his protests, and Feanor is careful to walk warily around her after that. 

(He will not eat if Indis gets to the table first. He does not trust food that has been left under her hands unguarded.)

 In a last ditch effort to stop the wedding, he’d gone to consult the best Seer he could find. If she could see something terrible - if she could convince his father - 

Nerdanel can see nothing but vague trouble, and there is always trouble. That will not be enough to convince his father. But he is fascinated by the stones she casts. They are intricately carved, and she confesses that she made them herself. Feanor works more with metal than stone, but he is questioning that decision now, and he returns to her again and again. 

Admittedly, it is not due entirely to his interest in her stonework. 

Nerdanel is hesitant to marry him. She does not want to come more to the attention of the wizards than she already is, but Feanor convinces her that his father can protect her. 

They discover Nerdanel is with child shortly before Indis announces she is also.

Feanor is ecstatic that he has a child on the way. He is also terrified. 

What if his father loves him less now that he has a proper, wizarding child on the way? What if his father cannot protect his child?

 What will his child be?

 Maitimo, it turns out, is a wizard. 

Feanor doesn’t know whether to cheer or scream. Finwe is delighted, and his delight is both welcome and painful. Indis’s congratulations are both entirely sincere and rather insulting. Nolofinwe, of course, is also a wizard, but there was never any doubt about that. 

His son is going to outlive him. His son is going to join the caste of the most vicious, backstabbing, brutal people he knows, excepting, of course, his father. 

His son is going to be safe. 

When Nerdanel gets pregnant again, he doesn’t know what to hope for. Another wizard, forever safe from being sold into torment? A sorcerer he can teach everything to? A seer that, so long as he is not too powerful, might be safely ignored? 

Makalaure, it turns out, is an enchanter. 

Feanor hadn’t even known that was on the table. Nerdanel seems bewildered by his confusion. 

“It’s not like my people were all seers,” she says. “My mother always told me that my father was a sorcerer. I suppose one of his parents might have been an enchanter.” 

She does not speak of what happened to her father. Feanor knows better than to press. 

An enchanter is - Well, an enchanter is the opposite of safe. They are the second most sought after prey for the trade, and what they are used for when they are caught does not bear imagining. 

“You will have to protect your brother,” he tells Maitimo every night, even though his eldest is still too young to properly understand. “You have to.”

Maitimo always nods with solemnity beyond his years, and Feanor can only pray he remembers this. 

He isn’t sure if he’s just imagining the speculative look in Indis’s eyes when she looks at the baby. 

The third time Nerdanel gets pregnant he hopes desperately it is not another enchanter. He loves Makalaure - loves him desperately, and he wouldn’t change him for the world, but he wishes desperately he could change the world for Makalaure. If he has to feel this way on behalf of two children, he thinks he will explode. 

Their third son is not an enchanter. 

He’s a warrior. 

The second Feanor knows, bone deep horror sinks into him. Nerdanel is clutching the baby like someone is already trying to rip him out of her hands to dump him onto the killing fields. 

For a desperate, mindless, moment, Feanor sincerely considers killing the midwife. She is the only one who knows. If they can hide this - 

But there is no hiding this. Not for long. 

Feanor does not kill the midwife. Instead, he pours gold into her hands and begs her to keep it quiet, just for the night. 

It will hold her for now. It will not hold her long. 

He trusts his father. He does. 

He does not trust that his father will be able to hold back the entirety of the White Rose, which has grown increasingly more desperate for warriors. 

By morning, he suspects the midwife will have broken her promise. 

By morning, Feanor and all his family are long gone.