#It's obvious by the way she and her cast mates/friends act around each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose.

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas.

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones.

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him.

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too.

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him.

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders.

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation.

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement.

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped.

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be.

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits.

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!”

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined.

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you.

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet.

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees.

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see.

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you.

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room.

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars.

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal.

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas.

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more.

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you.

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips.

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you.

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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post-nuclear-sweetheart · 3 years

Text

Weight of the World (1 & 2)

Patches interacts with the NPCs of Firelink Shrine, while an abusive Ashen One is away.

Every now and again the familiar sound of armour clunking up the worn stone stairs of the shrine would stir Patches from thought. They would approach him with a silent glare and voicelessly inquire about his inventory and would either purchase something, much to Patches’ delight, or would abruptly walk away, followed by his belittling words.

There was a period of time the Ashen One didn’t return for an unusually long time, and in that time Patches watched the drifters from his perch, high above in the shrine. It was amusing to watch the blind bird with snowy white hair and long ash-stained robes stumble around the shrine and stub her toes on the steps and walls. She would let out a breathy squeak each time she gently collided with something, feel around with her arms and finally take her place somewhere. No one spoke with her directly, all except the Ashen One, but there was one time Patches did descend from his perch to interact with her.

The Fire Keeper sat along the steps of the inner circular shrine, fiddling with a loose strand of thread from her robes and quietly hummed to herself. Upon hearing the shuffling of greaves, she lifted her head and called out, “Welcome home, Ashen One.”

But her small smile faltered. “Ah, thine footfalls art lighter than mine Ashen One.”

Her observation took Patches by surprise, considering he was taller and no doubt heavier than the Ashen One. He looked down at his outfit and realized it was the iron greaves and boots he wore that gave him that clunky armour sound, but the fabric shirt he wore on his torso and nothing else helped his footsteps sound lighter.

Patches let out a chuckle. “Huh. Not very blind for a blind girl, are we?”

The Fire Keeper visibly recoiled. “Thoust a wicked one; begone.”

“Aw, now, now,” he crouched low before her, levelling his eyes to where hers used to be. “what has that horrid Ashen Tart been telling you?”

“They told’th me of thy trickster ways, and how thee would betray thy own compatriots.”

“Trickster?” Patches couldn’t help the manic grin growing on his face. “Oh, absolutely. Spot on, in fact. Now, what’s all this about betraying my friends?” He mimicked a hurt tone. “I would never do such a thing, bird.”

“I don’t believe thee. I am told’th thee did cast mine Ashen One’s true friend down a well, and that yond thee donn’d his armour and pretended to be him.”

Patches playfully shrugged, not that the Fire Keeper could see it. “Alright, I admit, I did that. And how remarkably easy it was to get him to strip that laughable armour off - but I digress. Old boy and I made up. We’re all friends now!”

She didn’t fully believe that he made amends with the poor, jolly knight, but his truthful admittance is what caused the Fire Keeper to ease her suspicions of him… for now.

She craned her head to look up at him. Patches whistled and gave a little wave, and her head followed the sound to look straight ahead. She jumped slightly in surprise.

“Thou art a solitary being. What mad’eth thee come down hither?”

“Oh,” Patches rubbed the back of his bald head. “I had enough of being a fly on the wall to the goings on here. Thought I’d come down,” the Fire Keeper could hear the grin on the face in his tone. “stir up some trouble.”

The Fire Keeper’s lips contorted to a grimace of disgust. “Is’t within thy nature to disturb the delicate balance of those who seek’th solace hither?”

“Hear me now, bird,” he said. “I ain’t the one to meddle where his nose don’t belong. You’re better off giving that question to your beloved Ashen Tart.”

“Just as thee has’t nay business stripping yond po’r knight of his armour, and disturbing our contenders.”

The toothy, almost malicious, grin fell from Patches’ face for a moment, before awkwardly chuckling, “Not one to pick up on sarcasm, are you? I didn’t actually mean I’d cause trouble-“

From her seat on the semi-eroded stone steps, the Fire Keeper stood to her full height. Not as tall as Patches, her figure and aura possessed a cursed air around her, and managed to send a fright through the tall pale man. “Thou shan’t spread any mischief whilst thou take’th shelter in the shrine, lest thou wishes to face wrath.”

Patches held up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright! I read you - loud and clear!”

Satisfied with his answer, the Fire Keeper took her seat once more on the eroded steps. “Then thou art most welcomed.”

But Patches remained to stare down at the Fire Keeper. After several, silent moments passed, the Fire Keeper’s idle humming halted. “Oh, does’t the vagrant have more to say?”

“Yeah.” His light and spirited tone evaporated to a dour mood. “I see a lot that goes on here.”

“Oh?” The Fire Keeper entertained him.

“And I see how that Tart treats you.” He said with a vindictive tone. “The way they slap you around with every new shiny toy they find. You don’t have to take that.”

At his confrontational language, the Fire Keeper recoiled slightly. “I am surprised thee care enow to approach’th me, but it doest not matter, for I cannot die so easily.”

Patches huffed at her complacent attitude of remaining nothing more but a servant to the next Lord, and a training dummy. “Death doesn’t matter much, but you’ve still got feelings. How’d that last beheading feel? Not great, eh?”

The Fire Keeper pursed her lips, and remained silent for a moment, before speaking in a quieter voice, “I… Mine own feelings matter not. I understand’th mine place in the ordinary; what mine fate hast becometh.”

Patches went to speak, but the soft, shaky voice of the Fire Keeper kept his words at bay. She clutched at the worn fabric of her ash-stained sleeves. “Wicked One,” she sounded pained. “prithee, grant me solitude.”

He hesitated, staring as she drew herself inward, but he knew when it was time to leave well enough alone. Wordlessly he stepped away, interested in the dark figure in armour that resembled a gargoyle peeking from the archway to spy down below, further into the shrine.

But the Fire Keeper called quietly after Patches. “Thy concern is appreciated, O Wicked One.”

Eygon of Carim - a knight dressed in armour that resembled some sort of horrific creature - watched a pale maiden, wrapped up in creams and whites, from above. Irina, the one Eygon was so devoted to, sat upon what seemed to be the only dry patch of stone in the moist darkness of the shrine’s lowest floor.

Patches had seen him before. He entered the shrine to visit her from afar a few times, merely to silently observe and see if she was alright in the care of the Ashen One. Once satisfied, he would sulk around the outside of the shrine before taking off somewhere else.

This visit didn’t seem to be like his others, Patches noticed from where he spoke with the Fire Keeper. Eygon moved slow and carefully, as not to disturb the joints in his armour too much. He didn’t call out to her, didn’t engage or make himself known. He stood in the shadows, spying on the poor blonde girl. Patches had no issue playing along with Eygon’s silent act.

It was after a few more moments of peering down at the nun, who slowly swayed her head and hummed, that Eygon stepped away from the arch and crossed his arms.

“What business have you to bother me?” His deep, rumbling voice flowed from the open mouth of the gargoyle helmet he wore. “Go kiss someone else’s ass. I’m not in the mood for your foolery.”

Patches tilted his head and smirked at the Carim knight. He knew exactly what that tone meant; he was defensive. Like he was caught in the act of doing something he’s ashamed of. “Know of me,” Patches kept his voice quiet, much like the knight’s own voice. “wittol?”

A low growl resounded from within Eygon. “You’ve made a number of enemies. Seems like you’re in the market for another one.” Eygon reached behind him, never moving his head from gazing at Patches, for his atrociously large hammer that leaned into the corner he stood in.

But there was something about Carim knights that Patches was intimately familiar with. Rude, crass and as prickly as they were, not often did they enact wrath upon others who caused petty offense.

Patches crossed his arms and shrugged. “All you knights with your maidens you’re all so devoted to - how’s a bloke not to think you don’t slave over her feet? But not you, eh?”

Patches stepped quietly, closer to the archway to gaze down at the nun, Irina. He pulled himself back to face Eygon. “Not with an evil creature like that.”

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Eygon whispered. “A pitiful failure. Nothing but an attraction to perverse darkness, but even a woman cursed as her deserves her dignity. Begone.”

Unbothered, Patches complied. “Alright, then. No sense in talking to you. Your lady down there,” Patches had begun to make his way towards the stairs that descended lower into the shrine. “seems more apt for conversation. Maybe I’ll-“

Eygon slammed his impossibly large hammer down dangerously close to Patches, kicking up clouds of ash and debris. His hammer shook the ground, and sent an ear-shattering bang echoing throughout the shrine.

“You won’t touch her.” Eygon seethed, lifting his head to stare directly into Patches’ eyes. “Not without a fight.”

“Ashen One?”

A soft voice called out, just loud enough for both men to hear. “Ashen One,” she called again. “is that you?”

Eygon hoisted the hammer back up the rest against his shoulder. “No, my lady. It’s only me.” He spoke louder towards the archway.

“Oh, Eygon,” her voice lifted in tone and sounded much happier than the dreary inquiry she had before. “it’s been so long since you came to visit me. Won’t you come here, please?”

Patches noticed the subtle way Eygon’s form turned frigid. A grin formed across his face, turning upwards in a most evil way. “What’s wrong? Don’t all you Carim knights dream of ravishing your lady? Or, is it that you’re right scared of her?” Patches purposefully forced out a laugh that dripped with venom. “Oh mate, you should’ve stopped being scared of the dark when you were a kid.”

“Say what you wish,” Eygon threatened in a low tone. “but I will kill you. Not now, but upon our next meeting I’ll separate the flesh from your oversized head. You’ll have wished you’d eaten your words.”

Eygon pushed past Patches, making sure to collide his armoured shoulder with his, and descended the stairs to where Irina spent her days.

Patches watched, silently above, in the shadow of the stone archway. The dark knight firmly planted the top of his hammer onto the ground, before kneeling before the pale nun. “What is it you needed, Irina?”

“Touch me, please.” Irina held up her hand in the blank space in front of her. “I- I have tremendous news.”

Eygon stared at the warm, soft palm Irina offered to him. She appeared simply angelic; the lit candles beside her created a heavenly glow around her in the dark, but all Eygon saw was the amplified darkness that plagued her eternally. He didn’t move, and was silent for too long.

Patches noticed his hesitation had turned into an uncertain withdrawal. It was clear to Patches now: this knight wasn’t just scared, he was terrified of her.

“Eygon? Where have you gone?” Irina’s outstretched arm faltered, but at his name, Eygon answered.

“I am here.” He pressed the palm of his gauntlet against her’s, and Irina’s fingers closed around his hand, feeling the intricacies of the design.

“It is you.” Irina whispered. “I am… I am glad it’s you. This Ashen One, he gave me a tome that felt most terrible against my fingers.”

Eygon stiffened. “Tell me you did not read it.”

Irina shook her head, and gave her knight a demure smile. “I did not. A woman - a witch - stopped me before I could. She guided my hand to a tome that tickled me with its radiance.” She gave a quiet, gleeful chuckle. “It’s bountiful light seems to have staved off the darkness that nibbles upon me. Perhaps my path towards becoming a Fire Keeper is not lost.”

A Fire Keeper. This information surprised Patches. He had assumed she was nothing more but a broken nun - a dirty cleric, but she was nothing of the sort.

“Eygon,” she started. “I know my curse wards you away from me, but the darkness is not in my presence. May I touch your skin?”

“...Are you so certain you feel the absence of the dark? Remember my oath to you.”

“I remember clearly. No, it seems gone. I feel positively elated.”

It was true that her smile turned up more than usual, and a healthy flush was present in her cheeks. Eygon pulled his hand away from hers to unclip the clasps of his gauntlet, and pulled it off to reveal his bare flesh. Experimentally, he placed only the pads of his fingertips against hers, then slowly enveloped her hand in his.

Irina let out a breathy gasp. “Oh, oh Eygon, you are so warm. I never could have imagined you felt this way. I can only wonder what you may look like.”

Patches grimaced at the sickly sweet scene unfold before him, and stepped away before he became a witness to the lovelorn fools’ potential union. Lovers were items that already made his stomach twist in knots, but secret lovers? He nearly vomited at the thought. There was one thing that stuck with him through all of that snooping; the corruption the new Fire Keeper nearly fell to by way of the Ashen One.

Perhaps the world could have done well with the loss of one more holy person, but the loss of a fire attendee? No, Patches knew where his hatred began and ended, and this betrayal was another strike against the Ashen One for him.

#Dark Souls #Dark Souls 3 #Unbreakable Patches #Firekeeper #Eygon of Carim #Irina of Carim #Ashen One #Eygon x Irina #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #Liver Writes #Cyntax_Error

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smugraccoon137 · 3 years

Text

Supergirl Season 2 episode 8 Medusa review part 2

If your curious part 1 was just my breakdown of Kara and Mon-els relationship that got way too long. But as always SPOILERS AND GAY THOUGHTS AHEAD

Me and kel get so excited when Lenas in an episode. Like practically giddy. I can’t help smiling when shes on screen honestly. And yes Katie McGrath is beautiful, but beyond that such a pretty smile and lovely voice. I’m sure ratings started to spike when she joined the cast. Okay enough about pretty girls on to the review

Tipsy fucking Alex though guys I can’t get over this mess of a person.

Alex: if I have to come out to my mom then I choose to do it drunk

Kara: no your not *yoinks beer*

Alex: wait no my coming out juice

Kara Danvers sneaky sneaker extraordinaire can totally interview Lena and find out Cadmus things without anyone knowing. The confidence this goofball has is top tier

Underrated relationship: Alex and Winn though. I really really love Winn and honestly Alex is such big sister energy to both him and Kara.

wow Lenas pretty in the interview scene. A touch of auburn hair from the sunlight really makes this shot and we never get to see her with her hair down. Fan service honestly, or maybe she heard a certain beef cake reporter was gonna come by and wanted to dazzel her.

Lena: hair up is for business. Hair down is for flirting friendship time with Kara

Poor baby thinks she falls short nooooo. Your doing your best godamn your only like 25 jesus. Kara give her a hug she needs love and affection

Kara thinks shes being so sneaky in this interview. Such a golden retriever, bad at sneakin. As soon as she toes the line Lena catches on and kicks her out. Really good acting in the scene, the subtle change in expression to show Lenas guard raising. Good job Katie.

Real quick Lena why is your office so ugly? How do you keep it clean? You spend 99% of your days in this place and its whiter than a hospital room. I hate it. Why is your desk an oval? and why does it have a hole in it? Kara cant eat you out in secret anymore damn.

OOHHHhhhh noooo the fucking gas bomb in the bar what the fuck. EVERYBODIES DEAD JESUS WHAT WAS THAT

Poor Mon-el. What happened at the bar was fucked up, and he feels like its fault when its obviously not.

Love that he and Kara are having bro time playing some Monopoly. Oh no not Kara asking if he likes her. Honestly thought these two had good chemistry in this scene. Im a sucker for dumbass not understanding certain words and phrases. So Kara having to reiterate her questions and finally being like “You don’t want to mate with me do you?” was super fun. Omegaverse vibes mfs. Although I am confused by mon-els reaction “I mean have you seen the kind of women I’ve been attracting?” I honestly don’t know what this means.

Kara internal reaction though: Oh thank god

Wow Kara really just has no regard for her own life, huh? she just opens the door and possibly contaminates herself. It’s good to want to help people, but love you gotta care about yourself too

Good reveal with the fortress of solitude. Oof Kara gonna feel like its her fault all those aliens died and mon-els sick. They do a really good job of showing Karas relationship with her parents through their holograms. She wants so badly to see them again, to talk to them. And she can, but not really. They just aren’t real.

Lena cattily to her mother: im used to celebrating holiday weekends alone at my desk

me to Kara: please invite her to thanksgiving

Okay so Lena being adopted is another interesting parallel to Kara. Also the fact that both Kara and Lena fall into there families shadows, and are left behhind or forgotten. Really interesting how Lena and Karas relationship is so similar to Clark and Lex’s for obvious purposes. Though the CW queer coding the fuck out of their relationship in Smallville really only adds to Supercorp fever. Its always been Homoerotic subtext Harold!

Me watching Lena and Lillian trade verbal blows: Wow ya’lls relationship is fucked up. Lex and Lionelle would spar and fence but you two are on another level jesus

oooooof that last line.

Lena: I know your lying

Lillian: and how could you possibly know that?

Lena: because you told me you loved me. And we both know thats not true

Who wrote this jesus fuck my heart. The PAIN.

Bonus thought Lena thinks Karas smart. Goofball beefcake sneaky sneakster who doesnt know the difference between flirting and friendship is smart she thinks. I love these idiots

Wow Kara just doesn’t wait huh? Oh cadmus is going to be at LCorp? Not on my watch. Lena’s there. I know this because I tune into her heart beat just to check on her cus she likes to work late. Don’t worry Alex it’s for friendship reasons.

That LCorp security guard got princess carried for .2 seconds. Best moment of his life.

God its like dark out. Lenas working on a holiday weekend into the night. I hate this, give her friends.

Lena looks so scared when Kara gets thrown into the giant LCorp sign

And then hurt Kara looking up at her with dread.

Kara internal: fuck don’t come out now. I came here to save you

God I love the protectiveness. Its *chefs kiss*. Hank throwing the beam at Lena and Kara even in her hurt state throwing herself in front of it. Sometimes self sacrifice is gay. But how Lena looks at her after wards like “I can’t believe I’m alive. I can’t believe she chose to save me”. Met with a gruff “Get out of here!”. mm yes this is my kind of content. Fight for me.

I was robbed an aftercare scene but I doubt it will be the last time. (*COUGHS* the “im leaving” phone call *COUGHS*)

Talking about the virus Eliza: what about Lena Luthor?

Kara: What about her?! (super defensive is also a super power maam)

Winn: Luthors can be pretty good actors

Kara: No, I looked into LENAS EYES. She doesn’t know anything about cadmus or her mother

J’onzz: Would you stake Mon-els life on that?

well I guess that really puts Lena and Mon-el right next to each other in priorities huh? Which one is more important?

Wow Lena totally has a crush on Supergirl after that. Flustered dork.

Lena: *laughs nervously* you know that doors not really an entrance

Kara: *upsettit stone face pupper*

Lena: :,)

Okay but the way Lena just says “Anything” all breathless and helpful when Kara says she needs her help. Shes crushin hard

Kara tells Lena her mother is in charge of Cadmus.

Lena: >:(

Annnd the crush is dead. That did not last long. Really love that Lena has such a different relationship with Kara vs Supergirl though, good dynamic having her reactions so different. Which I believe actually relates as a Clark and Lois parallel? Seeing as how Lois has two separate relationships with Clark and Superman.

OOf the way Lenas throat bobs with genuine sadness because who she thought Supergirl was is wrong. Shes just like the rest of them. Thinks Lena is just another crazy Luthor. It hurts

Kara: I know what its like to be disillusioned by our parents, but Im a pretty good judge of character, and you are not like your mother. She is cold and dangerous. And you are too good and too smart to follow in her path. Be your own Hero.

Wow just what a good line. They are capable of some things here and there arent they? Melissa's delivery on this is excellent. And the way Katie McGrath is able to show such depth of sadness and bitterness even from a shot of her BACK is really cool. Great acting in this scene in particular. And I can see why the “desperation to be good” is such a highlighted part of these two relationship. Its the one thing in common between Lena and Supergirl, the place where they can meet in the middle. And the way Lena looks after her as she leaves! AHHH thats the good shit, the pining

Okay big Mon-el scene in coming so if you dont want to hear my ranting skip over this part.

Funny how as soon as Kara has this big impactful scene with Lena full of tension and emotion the writers were like: shit we almost forgot Mon-els dying.

Kara: *staring sadly back into Lenas office kind of wanting to go back in*

Writers: *cough cough* KARA He’s DYINGGGG

Kara: Oh shit right. Mon-el Oh no. My *looks at poorly written handwriting on her palm* romantic interest?

Wow Mon-el looks like shit, poor guy. Someone swaddle this pillow princess and get him some soup.

Heres a question. Kara is visibly upset that Mon-el is dying. Is it because she’s sad that the guy shes likes is dying. Because her friend is dying? Because her father created the virus thats killing him (what the writers want us to think)? Or because no matter what Kara does the people she loves keep falling through the cracks and shes helpless to stop it?

Her parents. Clark. Her adoptive father. Now Lena. Now Mon-el. Why can’t she ever do anything? Why is it always her fault? This poor kid has some deep seeded abandonment issues

Mon-el: you know you look beautiful with the weight of all these worlds on your shoulders.

I do remember my reaction here, cus I thought this was a weird line. A line that was obviously meant to be romantic and complimentary, but it felt unsettled in my stomach. Coming back and watching the scene it sits even more uncomfortably there. He obviously means well, but this line is kind of just shitty. Its a very selfish and unthoughtful thing to say to someone.

Kara’s entire fucking life has revolved around other people and making sure they are happy and taken care of. But having “failed” at such a young age to do the impossible things asked of her (carrying on Kryptons legacy, raising Clark) she overcompensates. Any normal person would just make their life revolve around their family and friends, not healthy but it works. But Kara feels responsibility over an entire world of lost people and lives. So the amount she overcompensates is ungodly. She does have the weight of worlds on her shoulders. This is not a joke or hyperbole. Its just her life. And thats so fucking shitty. And to have someone actually see that and acknowledge it. To make it a reality so to speak. Then to have them say “yeah you look good like this” while you’re a shaking Atlas being crushed. It is just a little too much isn’t it? That pain to have someone see you finally, and then completely miss the point. For them to go “oh wow your so strong. your so brave” instead of “let me help you. you shouldn’t have to do this at all, forget by yourself. But now I am here”.

I imagine this was the scene that crowned my darling himbo boy Mon-Hell? Which is so unfortunate. I hope Im wrong, but I feel that his character might just end up a big missed opportunity

I want everyone to know that me and Kel screamed through the entire enxt few seconds of the scene. We knew the kiss was coming from how they were building it up. But god was it painful, especially for it to be delivered after a line like THAT. But yeah very loud angry screaming

Also not to be that bitch but Kara and Mon-els scene was a total of 1:53 RT, and Kara and Lenas ran at a 1:57 RT. Just sayin...

No Lena don’t be evil thats too sexy...

Okay but the way that Lena just tricks Lillian is so good. Shes so clever. And added bonus she makes her ask for her help, which is nice actually. Lillian's obvious vice is weakness and that is often shown in embarrassment. A woman like this asking for help borders that line of weakness and its nice to see on such a dislikable character. Lena didn’t just get what she wanted she got a point over her mother.

Lena looks good in the purple coat. Repeat she is pretty

Love the mental chess game between Lena and Lillian. Lena offering help right off the bat and giving her the isotope free of charge. And then Lillian making Lena launch the virus to prove herself. Good stuff.

Kara appears: don’t do it Lena!

Lena: why not? im a luthor

Okay so obviously Lena switched the Isotope and the Virus won’t work. But thats what makes this line so perfect. Throwing it back in Supergirls face. Like “Yeah, Im a luthor. And Ill show you what im capable of.” But instead of mass death and destruction Lena saves the day. She saved thousands of lives, and its because shes a Luthor that she was able to do that. Really nice way to full circle that

Wow Lillian really just starts booking it without Lena, huh? bitch

I really love the scene of the virus falling all around National City. The choice of an orangish snow falling was a really really good one. Paired with some excellent music for the mid season finale.

Its sad but I do love Hank just being ready and at peace with death. Im sure he misses his wife and daughters.

Okay but Lena calling the cops is tea. Send your mom to jail honey.

So we’re really not gonna talk about how Lena saved everyones asses? Like don’t you think Supergirl would want to talk to the woman that A) kind of tricked her, and B) saved National City. Thats just what makes sense??? But no we’re going to ignore that the DEO is a kind of shit at their job sometimes. And that the woman that they were accusing of having a part to play in all the xenophobic shit is the one who did their job. BY HER SELF.

Okay rant over. This was a long one review dear god. Really really good episode though. I enjoyed rewatching all the scenes even if it was a mixed bag of feelings. Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed all the screaming!

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hearteyesbowen · 5 years

Text

practicing lines II ☆ ricky bowen

the theatre kids suspect something is going on between y/n and ricky hours before their first performance

warnings: we love angst, some swearing, fluff, kinda long

part I, part II

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Don’t worry, I got you. You’re doing great, babe!” Ricky cheered behind you as his hands hovered over your waist.

It’s been a week since your shared moment at the El Ray Theatre, and you both couldn’t be separated. You tried to spend as much time together to make up for all the fighting you had for months. You and Ricky were on another mini adventure you two would like to have. Yesterday, you taught Ricky how to play the ukelele, now it was his turn to teach you something.

Ricky was teaching you how to skateboard on his street, something he’s always wanted to do with Nini but she was too scared of. You were grateful he offered to teach you, but you never thought how overprotective he would be. I mean, he basically wanted to cover you entirely in bubble wrap so you wouldn’t bruise yourself, but you only wore knee-pads. You started off slow; you practiced balancing on the board first, then you would stand on top and Ricky would hold your waist as you moved as slowly as possible. He didn’t want to let you go out of fear that you would fall off and break a bone. You managed to convince him to let you start skating on your own, with him still there to catch you when you inevitability fall over.

“Ok, Ricky, I think you can let go now.” You giggled as he wouldn’t let you go faster than walking speed.

“No can do, you’re clumsy as hell.” He argued, stopping you completely.

You shuffled on the skateboard to face him, giving him a playful glare. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re a klutz.” He smirked.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Ricky wasted no time in attacking your lips with his. Your hands quickly tangled in his hair while his gripped your hips. You were so caught up in the kiss that when you leaned forward you tripped off the skateboard. The board flipped over and Ricky expertly grabbed your waist before you could fall, and he brought you back on your feet.

“See what I mean?” He beamed, pinching your cheek.

You rolled your eyes jokingly as you pushed his chest, grabbing the knocked over skateboard and began walking back towards Ricky’s house.

He laughed, jogging up to you and grabbed your hand, and intertwined your fingers together. “So when is the next time I can take my Gabriella on another date?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should let your best friend know what’s going on between us first before you take me out again.” You replied, giving him a nod towards Big Red’s house that we were just passing.

“You want me to tell Red what we are?” He asked confusingly. We both stopped walking and stood in front of his lawn.

“What are we?” You wondered.

“What do you want to be?” He asked in a similar tone.

“What do you-”

“Hey guys!” You heard Red scream from beside you.

You both turned your head and saw the adorable redhead close the wooden door behind him before he ran up to the both of you. As far as you knew, Red only knows that you both settled your differences and grew to be friends, but nothing else. You knew Ricky hated to keep secrets, especially from his best friend, but he didn’t know how to tell Red that he was going on dates with his past enemy. Would Red judge you two? Ricky didn’t want to know.

“What are you two up to?” Red asked cheerfully, doing a handshake with Ricky and giving you a small fist bump.

“I was teaching her how to skate so she can ride with us in the morning.” Ricky joked, making all of you share a laugh.

“That would be so cool. So when are you going to tell everyone that you’re dating now?” He asked nonchalantly. You both froze and stared at each other with wide eyes. “I mean, come on, it’s obvious you two aren’t just friends anymore. Especially after that afternoon at the El Ray.”

“Does everyone know?” You asked worryingly.

“Everyone has their speculations; some thought you hooked up, some thought you just talked to each other, and some thought you punched Ricky in the throat which is why he had makeup on his neck.” He smirked.

“Makes sense.” You and Ricky said in unison.

“I don’t think you two should be scared to show that you’re dating. You should be happy that you have each other now. Miss Jenn is going to love that news the most.” He said, giving you both a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow before the show.”

Red ran back to his house, leaving you both alone to think about what he said.

“You know,” Ricky started, “I wouldn’t mind letting everyone know you’re mine. Now all the guys at school can stop checking you out.”

“People check me out?” You questioned.

“What? I didn’t say anything.” He smiled smugly, grabbing your hand again and walking back to his house.

➢➣ ➢➣

“Ashlyn, can you run ‘Breaking Free’ with Ricky and Y/N?” Miss Jenn asked politely as she quickly inspected the costumes Kourtney left on the costume rack.

It was the night of the show, and everyone on and off stage couldn’t have been more nervous. Nini and Ej were practicing their lines together, Carlos tried to help Kourtney learn the dance work that was originally written for Gina, and Seb was trying to set his makeup that Kourtney did so it wouldn’t run.

You turned to look at Ashlyn who was giving you a cheeky smile. You both rushed to the piano, giggling as she sat down and quickly warmed up. You leaned against the large instrument, soon to be met with Ricky. He snaked his arm around your waist and handed you your shared music sheets. Ashlyn noticed his action and held back her growing smile.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” She squealed.

She began to play the keys, beautifully executing all the perfect notes written in her music. She hummed along with the tune and nodded at Ricky to give him his queue.

“We’re soarin’, flyin’, there’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach.” Ricky began to sing, looking directly into your eyes.

“If we’re trying, so we’re breaking free.” You sang, giving him a playful nudge.

You and Ricky continued to sing the rest of the song, earning mixed reactions from your cast mates. While they were all really excited to see that you and Ricky lost the violence towards each other, they couldn’t help but wonder what had happened, especially EJ.

You both could tell that EJ was pretty disappointed to learn that he and Nini couldn’t get the roles for Troy and Gabriella. He would have gotten over it if it wasn’t Ricky who got the part for the sole reason that he wanted to win back Nini. As for you, EJ didn’t exactly have an opinion on you until he saw how you and Ricky acted towards each other. He believed that he and Nini could have played the parts better, but he couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

“You know the world can see us, in a way, that’s different from who we, are.” You two harmonized, finishing the song.

Carlos and Seb started to clap which then erupted more cheers from your other friends, making you blush. Ricky chuckled and brought you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. The most excited to see this change in action was Miss Jenn.

“That was incredible! Your chemistry together was absolutely phenomenal! What changed?” She wondered excitedly.

“Yeah, what did happen? Less than a week ago you two were at each other’s throats. Did something go on between the two of you?” EJ glared. The rest of your friends backed away, leaving you, Ricky, Nini, EJ, Carlos, and Miss Jenn.

“I’m sorry, is there a problem?” Ricky argued, taking a step towards EJ.

EJ followed his actions and stood directly in front of Ricky, “Yeah, two people who have hated each other for months don’t just become besties overnight. This is all just an act to kiss up to Miss Jenn so she would stop getting mad at you two for fighting all the time.”

“Shut up, EJ. Just because you’re mad that I got the part of Troy doesn’t mean you have to be a dick to us too. Nini didn’t care at all, in fact, she was so happy for us. So how about you mind your business, I’m not desperately trying to ruin your relationship.” Ricky fought back.

“Anymore?” EJ countered.

Nini was quick to go to his side and squeeze his arm, “Relax, EJ, people can change for the better. You guys sound awesome together!” She cheered, giving you a tight hug and quick hug to Ricky.

“Boys, let’s stay professional, please. You can fight outside my theatre. We have a show to perform in two hours! Let’s all get our scripts and run ‘Stick to the Status Quo’ one last time!” Miss Jenn screamed to the rest of the students.

You looked up at Ricky who’s glare was set straight at EJ, who also gave a mirrored look. Ricky put his focus back on you and walked you to the hallway.

➢➣ ➢➣

Your show, the performance that took you all months to prepare and perfect, had just ended. You and your friends could not have been more happy and relieved the moment you all bowed. All of your castmates ran backstage together, laughing and crying over how proud they were of each other. You and the rest of the girls went into a tight circle for one big group hug. You all had tears forming in your eyes from looking at Gina, who had surprisingly showed up just in time to perform as Taylor. Compliments were being thrown by everyone to each other, a lot of them focused on yours and Ricky’s slightly improvised duet, making your stomach churn at the memory.

You had a different performance than you thought you would have. You thought your show was going great; you haven’t missed a line, sang every note perfectly, and not once did you get any stage fright. Then it was the scene where Gabriella meets Troy in the basketball court and you lost all confidence.

Ricky believed his show was far from perfect. He believed that once he saw his parents together again, he would perform perfectly, also because you would be there with him. Then he was lifted up into the air and all he could see was his mother hugging another man who he immediately knew was her new boyfriend, and all went downhill. He ran off stage and tried to calm himself down. He did run into you, and when you tried to calm him down and ask what happened he bursted at you to leave him alone. He was angry at himself for not telling you what happened, but he didn’t know what to do.

The girls continues to cheer for each other on their performances, but all that was in your mind was everything that happened on that stage. Anger, confusion, and embarrassment filled your head.

You watched Ricky from the side of the curtains with one of the stage managers. You couldn’t contain the smile on your face as you watched him sing and dance. Then when he was lifted in the air, you saw him get choked up. You didn’t know what changed in his actions. You wanted to go out there and help him once he got down, but he had already messed up his lines and ran out. You instantly ran backstage and bumped into Ricky.

“Hey, what happened?” You asked worryingly.

“Not now.” He grumbled.

You stood back and stared at him, “Ricky, what happened? Is there anything I can do-”

“Fuck off, Y/N. I said not now.” He screamed before running out the door.

Your heart instantly broke. All the dancers who just finished their scene were there to witness it. Kourtney ran up to you and squeezed you in a tight hug before she helped motion you to the costume rack to quickly change for your next scene with Ricky.

“Wow, so this is your real stage.” You recite as you walk to the center of the basketball court where you held your show. You held in your anxiety as you were scared to face Ricky after he yelled at you.

You stop in your tracks as you noticed EJ in Ricky’s costume, smiling widely and holding a basketball in his hands. You could have sworn you were dreaming, or that this was a terrible nightmare.

“Guess you could call it that, or just a smelly gym.” EJ joked, giving you a small nod as if to play along.

You stepped closer to him and grabbed his forearm, whispering “What’s going on, where’s Ricky?”

“You’re not the only one who’s dreading this.” He softly whispered as he tossed you the basketball. Your hands began to shake as you looked at the hoop and threw the ball without a thought. You missed the shot and EJ was quick to grab the ball, “Woah, don’t tell me your good at hoops too.”

The rest of the scene played on, and when you knew it was safe, you ran off stage and tried to look for Ricky. You ran around hopelessly, hoping you could find an answer. You met up with Nini who was getting her hair fixed.

“Nini, why is EJ out there as Troy and where did Ricky go?” You asked hurriedly.

“We don’t know what happened to Ricky, after the big basketball scene he was shaking and left for a few minutes. When I saw EJ, he told me that Ricky had to go and gave his part to him. I’m so sorry Ricky didn’t tell you.” She answered, giving you a genuine look.

You still had to finish the show, and when it was time for “Breaking Free,” you instantly wanted to leave. You smoothed out your large lab coat that Gabriella wore and met up with EJ at center stage.

He began to sing, acting as though you two were lovers, though you could notice the discomfort in his eyes. Your throat went dry and you started to feel a headache.

“I can’t do it EJ-Troy. Not with all these people staring at me.” You stuttered.

“Look at me, Gabby,” Ej put his hand on your shoulder, “right at me. Like the first time we sang together. Like kindergarten, remember?”

You heard the gym doors open and looked to the side to see Ricky and Gina walk in together. They stood next to each other and watched you and EJ. You couldn’t help but stare at them, and EJ met your gaze.

“Go, you know what to do.” He whispered as he covered the microphone as to not let anyone else hear. You gave him a nod and sped to Ricky, singing the rest of the song and bringing him along with you. Although you acted as if you were better, you couldn’t forget the anger you felt.

You snapped back to reality and shook your head. You didn’t notice how Ricky’s eyes never left you. He and the guys were huddled close to each other. Ricky tried to focus on his friends and pay attention to what they were saying, but he could only think of you. He needed you to hold him, primarily after seeing his parents show up along with his mother’s new boyfriend.

Carlos ran up to you and brought you into a tight hug. As you congratulated Carlos on performing as Chad for five minutes and writing amazing choreography for the dance numbers, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Ricky. You let out a soft gasp ( Carlos nearly screamed ) when you saw he had bought a large bouquet of red roses and pink peonies, all perfectly bloomed and strung together.

“Can we talk in the dressing room?” He asked shyly, offering you the bouquet. You hesitated to hold them, but caved in.

“Ok.” You replied. You gave Carlos a quick hug and he squeezed your hand before you walked off with Ricky.

➢➣ ➢➣

“I know you must be so mad at me right now-”

“Wow, how did you know?” You asked angrily as you placed the flowers on top of the makeup counter.

You had found the changing room and locked the door as you didn’t want anyone to walk in on you two. Not because you two were going to do anything cheeky, but because you swore you would have slapped Ricky if he tried to apologize to you.

“I can explain.” He pleaded, trying to grab at your hands but you pulled them away from him.

“Don’t.” You started, “My god, Ricky, if I didn’t know any better I should have listened to EJ when he said this was all an act!”

“You really think that?” Ricky asked, he, himself, getting angry as well. “You think that this past week and that night at the El Ray was all fake?”

“I don’t know what I should believe because you told me you would always be there for me but you were so quick to almost leave the show without telling me what happened. At least EJ told me when he was leaving. If you could at least talk to me about what happened instead of basically telling me to fuck off then maybe I wouldn’t be so mad and would just believe you.” You screamed as you felt your face burn up.

Ricky looked at you in fear and sorrow. He didn’t know how to express his emotions well enough anymore. “Y/N,” You looked up at him and saw his lip quiver, “You know I’m so sorry about this. I just don’t know what to do.”

You could tell he was about to explode any second, “I know.” You murmured. “I just want you to talk to me. I’ll listen to everything that happened. I want to help you but you just shut me out. I thought we were past all the negative stuff between us.”

“My mom came with her new boyfriend, and she didn’t tell me but she thought it was a good idea for us to meet.” He rushed, “When I ran out after you tried to help me, she met me in the hallway outside the gym and tried to talk to me but I just yelled at her. She doesn’t realize how much this whole transition is affecting me and how fast she moved on is making me feel. It’s like she doesn’t care about my dad and I anymore.

“But frankly, I would have gotten over this whole bullshit. I don’t really care about Todd, you know? I would have gone back home with my dad and just laugh about this some other day but I’m so angry because I took out my anger on you. I was so mad and hysterical that I couldn’t be more stupid than to yell at you for trying to help me. I keep pushing people out of my life because I’m so fucking stupid. I lost Nini because I can’t express my emotions, I lost my mom because I couldn’t hold in my emotions, and I lost you because I don’t know what to do with my emotions.” He cried out.

You hesitantly took a step closer to Ricky and grabbed his face to gently wipe the tears that started to quickly rush down his heated face. You calmly fixed his hair and his collar, and he looked at you breathlessly. You pat his chest and took a small step back to look at him again.

“I’m sorry that this is happening, Ricky. You know I would have listened to you if you would have just let me help you. But you pushed me away and now I don’t know what to do.” You said.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I should have just told you what happened. This is all my fault. I’m literally the biggest dumbass.” He whispered, looking down at the floor.

“You are a dumbass, Ricky. You made me feel like we were back to how we used to be. I thought that everything between us was going to be good. EJ was right, I was stupid enough to think that maybe we could have been friends, or more.” You admitted.

“No, don’t say that. You’re not stupid for thinking that.” He pleaded.

“Then what am I supposed to think?” You screamed.

“I love you.” He yelled back. You could have sworn you almost tripped. “I’ve loved you ever since I heard you sing ‘Start of Something New’ for your audition. I’ve loved you since I was sick during rehearsal and no one wanted to help me, but you threw a tissue box at me because you were still a nice person. I’ve loved you since we spent that night in the closet at the El Ray and we kissed. I’ve loved you since you taught me how to play the ukelele and I helped you ride a skateboard. I’ve loved you for so long and I’ve kicked myself every day since then because I didn’t say it over my own fears. But I do, I love you. And I don’t really know what happens tomorrow, or in two minutes when we walk out that door. All I know is, I want this feeling to keep going. Because this whole experience, I-I’m not ready for it to be over. For us to be, I mean.”

Your eyes welled up with tears. Never in your life have you ever been left so speechless, not even during the show or when he yelled at you. You knew you couldn’t stay mad at Ricky, as much as you wanted to. You did love him, and even if your ego didn’t want to admit it, you did. You loved Ricky Bowen.

You closed the space between each other and grabbed Ricky’s face in your hands. You attacked his lips with yours and he almost instantly kissed you back. You felt a totally new feeling when you kissed him this time. Almost as if you released all the pent up emotions you have held in for a long time. Your arms moved to around his neck and his went to your waist. You pulled away from him and heard a small whimper escape his mouth.

“I love you, Ricky Bowen.” You gushed. His eyes lightly widened along with his lips.

Ricky smashed his lips back to yours again. His smile grew wide into the kiss and he gripped your waist even tighter to pull you closer. You played with his hair and gave it a small tug, making Ricky let out a small groan. You detached your lips from his to look at him one more time. His cheeks were a deep shade of red and his lips were swollen. He couldn’t have looked more perfect to you.

His hands went under your butt and picked you up, bringing you on top of the counter and next to your flowers. He stood in between your legs and continued to kiss you. He detached his lips from yours and started to sprinkle kisses all over your face, starting at your cheeks, your nose, and all the way down your neck. You giggled at his excitement. You brought his face from your neck and in front of you to look at him. His eyes glowed, and you both took time to catch your breath again.

“Be mine.” Ricky whispered.

“What?” You asked hopefully.

“Be my girlfriend. I promise you won’t regret it.” He pleaded.

You let out a small laugh, “Yes, Ricky.”

Ricky let out a large cheer. He pulled you back in for a tight hug and lifted you off the counter and in the air while spinning around. He kept you up for a bit and you couldn’t stop laughing from how cute he was.

He put you down and quickly kissed your lips one last time, holding either side of your face. He pulled away and held your hand, picking up your flowers and letting you lead him to the door. You unlocked and opened it to reveal Red and Ashlyn holding hands.

“Hey guys, everything alright?” Red asked with a big smile after seeing the large bouquet.

“Yeah, everything is perfect.” Ricky smiled as he looked down at you, and you gave him a short kiss on his cheek.

“That’s cute. Well, everyone is looking for you two. I’m hosting a cast party at my house tonight and we’re about to head out. We’re just waiting on you two so we can take some group photos.” Ashlyn announced.

You tightened your grip on Ricky’s hand and brought it closer to you, “Sounds great, we can go right now.”

“Awesome, and, uh, Ricky?” Red spoke.

Ricky’s attention left yours and went to his best friend. “Yeah?”

“Maybe take off that lip gloss you have on before we go out there?” Ashlyn smirked as she sent you a sly wink before walking out with Red.

You glanced up at Ricky and saw your shiny, peach lip gloss stained his lips, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter. You grabbed a wipe from the makeup counter and gave it to your new boyfriend.

“How embarrassing!” He cried out, harshly wiping his mouth.

“There will be more where that came from, babe.” You beamed.

A/N - boom, the second part to practicing lines . probably my favorite imagine that i have ! let me know what u guys think !! love y’all xx

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett #joshua bassett oneshot #joshua bassett blurbs #joshua bassett fluff #hsmtmts imagine #joshua bassett imagine

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hotmonkeelove · 4 years

Text

JiraOro Day 2020

@jiraoro-day - I would’ve finished sooner, but things get complicated irl. Anyway, I worked pretty hard and it turned out longer than I originally intended. Please enjoy!

Triggers: None

Warnings: Adults Only

One Thing Leads to Another

“If you think I want some of that glorified tea, you’ve got another thing coming,” Jiraiya said, after having ordered sake for himself. “You know, you’ll never be able to hold your liquor if you don’t drink the harder stuff and start building up a tolerance for it.”

“I’d rather not. This is as much as I intend to drink tonight or any night,” Orochimaru said, lifting the cup of umeshu oyuwari to his lips. The plum wine diluted with hot water that Jiraiya had dismissed was one of the few drinks Orochimaru bothered with, given his sensitivity to both alcohol and cold foodstuffs. And while it was customary to drink the same thing for the first round, the two team-mates were more preoccupied with other matters to fret over drinking etiquette.

Jiraiya spun around on his bar stool, then quickly turned back to face his companion. “She’s spotted us,” he grumbled through clenched teeth. “I told you we should’ve gotten a table. We stick out like a sore thumb sitting at the bar.”

“We’re not here to peep, baka. I want her to see us. This way we ruin her evening with him.” Although his tone had lowered to a whisper, that last word came out in a definite hiss. Orochimaru also swivelled on his seat, towards Jiraiya, yet he spied the woman in question from the corner of his eye.

Tsunade walked up to the pair, hands balled into fists and shooting a death glare at them. “What, are you two stalking me on my dates now?”

“Pfft, don’t flatter yourself!” Orochimaru snorted, flaring his nostrils.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. “Then why are you here together?”

After downing a shot of sake, Jiraiya smirked. “We’re just having some drinks. We happen to like hanging out together.”

“You can’t stand each other,” she said, eyes narrowed at the pair of them.

Jiraiya gaped at her and raised his voice. “What? We’re best friends! We fight sometimes, but never seriously.“

“Tch, the only thing you two have in common is me,” she spat. A vein appeared to be bulging in her temple. “This is just a plot you’ve cooked up to put Dan off me! I ought to drag you both outside and knock some sense into you!”

Orochimaru refilled Jiraiya’s sake glass, as if they were properly drinking together. “We’re closer than you know, Hime.” It was true that they’d been spending a lot of time together ever since Tsunade had started seeing Dan, even if a lot of that time was spent airing their grievances regarding the two lovebirds. Best friends was perhaps a stretch, but they were certainly on much more amicable terms now. If playing up their newfound closeness got under her skin, Orochimaru was more than happy to exaggerate it. “Perhaps if you weren’t off acting as if you’re too good for us, you would’ve noticed how deeply bonded Jiraiya and I are.”

“Hmph, are you dating each other now?” she scoffed.

It was obvious to him that she was trying to offend them by casting aspersions on their relationship, but he wasn’t so insecure about his sexuality as to be bothered by it. No, he would turn the tables on Tsunade. In clear view of her, Orochimaru put his hand on Jiraiya’s thigh and caressed it. “Jealous, Hime?” His lips stretched into a smug grin.

Jiraiya paused for a moment, staring at the eggshell white hand lingering on his lap. Once he appeared to catch on, he added, “Yeah, maybe we are… The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

“You two are pathetic! Get it through your heads; I’m with Dan now! Neither of you have a chance with me. EVER! If you seriously want to do each other, go ahead, because you certainly won’t be doing me!” Tsunade put her hands on her hips and gritted her teeth. “I want you both out of here before he shows up.”

“If you find our presence so distracting, Hime, we’ll leave. No need to get all worked up.” Orochimaru had switched to a more tranquil tone and expression, as if Tsunade were an unruly child he was placating. He gave Jiraiya’s knee a light squeeze, then removed his hand. It would be best to leave, regardless, as people were beginning to stare at the commotion Tsunade was causing.

Despite a momentary look of confusion in his eyes, Jiraiya was able to keep up with the charade. “We’ll even go out the back, so we don’t accidentally bump into your precious boy toy.” He chugged the remainder of his sake without paying Tsunade any further attention.

Once she had gone back to her table, having walked away in a huff, the two men paid for their drinks. Per his assurances, Jiraya led the way out the rear door. It exited into the alley behind the izakaya. The narrow passage was a bit dark and dank, shaded by the back wall of a neighboring building. They both stood there, with no clear plan for what to do next.

Orochimaru broke the silence. “I think we succeeded in putting her in a foul mood for the rest of the night. Dan might even get fed up with her temper and walk out, as she’d never tell him what she’s so upset about. It would serve her right.”

While facing away, Jiraiya spoke up. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Rubbing my leg like that.”

Orochimaru shook his head. He realised he should have expected his team-mate to get uptight about such a thing. Considering himself quite the ladies’ man, Jiraiya no doubt felt uncomfortable receiving a public display of affection from another male, even if just for show.

“Relax, I wasn’t trying to threaten your manhood. It was just-”

Jiraiya suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him hard, sucking the air out of his lungs. For a brief moment, Orochimaru just stood there, wide-eyed and frozen in place. At last, he pried his team-mate’s hands off of him and pushed him away, only to pull him back and resume the aggressive kiss. Something within him wanted more.

He couldn’t understand why Jiraiya had kissed him. It certainly could not have been uncontrollable lust resulting from a playacted thigh caress, unless he was somehow even weaker to sex than Orochimaru had assumed. Was he merely rebounding after having his heart broken by Tsunade? Or had Jiraiya been harbouring feelings for him all along and only now did he find the impetus to act on them?

His own reaction was just as perplexing. Orochimaru had his libido in check. He had long been indifferent to Jiraiya, only recently warming up to his friendship. Was he actually susceptible to a rebound relationship? Yes, Tsunade had also hurt him, but he wasn’t so fragile as to rush into making out with the next immediate person. He needed to explore it further, to find out what was driving them to do this, and why it felt strangely good.

Soon, their hands were groping at each other. Their bodies pressed against one another and their hips began to move. Jiraiya was grinding on Orochimaru’s stomach. Feeling his own cock beginning to stir against Jiraiya’s leg, Orochimaru knew it was time to stop. The back of an izakaya was not the ideal place for a first tryst. He wanted somewhere warm and comfortable, and stocked with decent lubricant. He pulled back, gasping for breath. “Not here. Take me home.”

“My place is closer,” Jiraiya said, likewise desperate for air.

“That’s what I meant. Your home.” His eyes were downcast, his facing burning.

The combination of eagerness and embarrassment was too much for either man. The pair hurried silently to the privacy of Jiraiya’s lodgings. When they made it inside, they wasted no time speaking. It was back to fierce kissing and rubbing up against one another’s groins. It wasn’t long before both were rock hard and a foot away from the bed. Instinct drove them to pull open each other’s clothes enough that their cocks, freed from their trousers and fundoshi, were brushing together. Then, unprompted, Jiraiya knelt down and wrapped his lips around the head of Orochimaru’s cock.

After his initial closed-eyed moan, he looked down and marvelled at his friend’s mouth going up and down on his shaft. It was something he had never imagined would happen and he couldn’t turn away from the sight. He put his hands on Jiraiya’s head, occasionally brushing the hair out of the way so as not to obstruct the view. It felt incredibly good, to the point he wondered if Jiraiya had done it before, or if he was simply a natural at it. Orochimaru was moaning before long, with intermittent profanities slipping through.

Soon, Jiraiya pulled down Orochimaru’s trousers and untied his fundoshi, all the while never straying far from his cock. His tongue worked it over, paying extra attention to any spot that elicited an approving groan.

In time, Orochimaru’s pelvis began to jerk. It started slowly, building up to a crescendo of thrusting into Jiraiya’s mouth. “I’m going to come soon,” he grunted, grabbing fistfuls of the white hair he’d been stroking. Somehow, Jiraiya managed to go faster, and Orochimaru couldn’t hold back anymore. He exploded in his friend’s mouth, moaning and twitching till he was spent. His loins throbbed with profound pleasure, driving out any second thought as to what the two of them were doing.

They were both breathing heavy afterwards. Jiraiya stood up and began kissing Orochimaru more, while the latter relished tasting himself in the kiss. Breaking away, he roughly stripped Jiraiya from the waist down. They proceeded to peel off each others’ haori and mesh undershirts, so that they were down to nothing, save the bandages on Orochimaru’s lower legs.

“I want this right now,” Jiraiya said, emphasising his words by reaching behind Orochimaru and squeezing his backside.

He glowered at that. “Are you trying to make me the wakashu just because I’m smaller and prettier?”

“No, not at all. It’s only that it’s my turn now and you’re not quite hard again, yet.”

Orochimaru glanced down at his dwindling erection and grumbled. “Then I get to be on top!” he hissed. It occurred to him that might well have been why Jiraiya was so quick to suck him off, yet he was too overcome with lust to argue about it.

“I’m not averse to that,” he said, smiling and retrieving the lube. “It might be easier like that, anyway, if you’re tight there. Besides... I kind of like looking up to see you for a change.” With a smirk, Jiraiya reclined on his bed. He was propped up slightly, with the pillows under his shoulders. Opening the bottle, he went about oiling up his swollen member.

Orochimaru took a breath before straddling Jiraiya. Though he felt strange about letting someone else penetrate him for once, he did want to try it in order to find out what it was like. As they went back to their voracious kissing, he felt Jiraiya’s slick finger begin to tease his asshole.

“Relax,” he whispered. ”I’m only trying to get you loosened up first.” Jiraiya continued teasing it till his finger slipped inside. He then went about prodding it while Orochimaru concentrated on relaxing the muscles.

“That’s probably enough. If worse comes to worse, I’ll use a soft body jutsu to stretch it,” Orochimaru whispered, getting somewhat self-conscious about the matter. It was not unpleasant, but he preferred the idea of being in control before getting aroused again. Seizing Jiraiya’s erection, he guided it in till he was able to sit on it. Only a few inches went inside at first, but he could feel it going gradually deeper. He propped himself up with his arms by reaching back and grasping Jiraiya’s bent legs.

The initial sensation was sharp pain, so much so that he worried it might not fit. Orochimaru was tempted to use the jutsu, but he held off, determined to experience all the sensations. A few minutes later, the pain died down and was replaced by an oddly pleasurable feeling of pressure. He knew he had to have more of it. Staring down at Jiraiya, he set about rolling his pelvis back and forth. His breathing was growing heavier the more he adjusted to the act.

“Oh, yes,” Jiraiya moaned, looking up at him. “That feels so good!” He ran his large hands up and down Orochimaru’s body, lingering at the hips that were rocking on top of him. “Yes, fuck me! Just like that...”

While still riding his cock, Orochimaru arched forward. He pushed down on Jiraiya’s lower jaw in order to touch tongues. His hands stroked Jiraiya’s chest and teased his nipples. When he pulled back, a string of saliva linked their mouths, before breaking and hitting their chins a moment later.

By the time Orochimaru was able to move as fast as he preferred to, he was achingly hard again. His cock was practically spinning around, slapping against his stomach. Jiraiya apparently took this as his cue to move his hips as well. They were each going at it with increasing speed and intensity, grunting and groaning as they locked eyes. The next thing he knew, Orochimaru was moaning loudly as he shot his seed across Jiraiya’s stomach. Within seconds, Jiraiya was also crying out as he came. Neither stopped fucking the other till both their cocks ran dry.

Out of breath, Orochimaru slowly rolled off of Jiraiya. He flopped down beside him on the bed as he recovered from it all. It had been fantastic in the physical sense, yet now that they had done it, he wasn’t certain where things would go from there. Maybe it would benefit him to sleep on it, he thought.

As they both stared at the ceiling, Jiraiya cleared his throat. “I’m going to take a shower in a bit. You’re welcome to join me. Or if you just want to sleep, that’s fine, too.”

The next morning, they woke up facing each other, yet they couldn’t maintain eye contact. Orochimaru felt awkward about it now. For them to go from rivals to allies devising up schemes to get back at the woman neither was able to win, then to end up having wild sex with each other; it just felt weird. The emotions that were going through his mind were odd and confusing for him, and he suspected Jiraiya might be feeling the same.

Getting out of bed, Orochimaru started gathering his clothes. “Last night was probably a mistake. Our judgement was clouded by emotions,” he said, looking down to tie his fundoshi.

“You’re right. Let’s just be friends from now on,” Jiraiya sighed, sounding equally regretful. “Good friends usually have embarrassing secrets that no one else knows about. We’ll keep it at that. It’ll never happen again.” He handed Orochimaru a hairbrush to use, and when they finally looked at each other, they exchanged a weak smile.

Contrary to their agreement, it did happen again. And again and again and again. If they were alone together for any reasonable length of time, it would happen. They would take turns on one another, doing just about everything. While they kept the extent of it between themselves, they were close friends in public. They let Tsunade and Dan be, though seeing their team-mate and her boyfriend together would always drive them to go off and satisfy their animal lust with each other.

Not until the war did it stop. Everything had to be set aside so that they were focused only on fighting and hatred. Orochimaru would find himself musing on how a battlefield could kill people in ways other than the physical sense. It was the duty of shinobi to sacrifice themselves for the sake of village warfare. Though he began to despise that idea with a passion, he had already been swallowed up by it, and more than he knew.

#jiraoro day 2020 #jiraiya #orochimaru #naruto #jiraoro #fanfic #sannin #m/m #lemon #one thing leads to another #my writing

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dennou-translations · 5 years

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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 6

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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.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #violet evergarden gaiden #kyoani #kyoto animation #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hogdins #benedict blue #cattleya baudelaire #lux sibyl #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation

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bluecrusadearcade · 3 years

Text

Harrison Osterfield is not your regular irregular

By Baker Street, Gentleman’s Journal quizzes the star of Netflix’s new drama on world records, Sherlock Holmes and his golf swing…

Draped in a silk shirt and paisley scarf, Harrison Osterfield is shivering his way across a brisk Regent’s Park. But he’s not complaining. Why would he? After all, the 24-year-old has dealt with worse. In his latest television series alone — Netflix’s The Irregulars — he’s tussled with demonic crows, paranormal serial killers and even the occult. So a little nip in the air? Nothing to worry about.

“I do have my eye on that jumper, though,” beams Osterfield from behind a bold pair of sunglasses. I don’t blame him. It’s a chunky-knit, funnel-neck number from Connolly, and the next piece of clothing lined up for this al fresco photoshoot. But, for now, the young actor must grit his chattering teeth — and continue striking willowy poses in that billowy shirt.

And those poses are turning heads. Dog-walkers, taxi drivers and tourists are all picking up on Osterfield’s energy; a coolly British blend of big grins and bouncy enthusiasm. He swings from a lamppost! He dances through daffodils! He feeds the pigeons! NW1 hasn’t seen this much action in months…

And we’ve come to Regent’s Park for obvious reasons; Baker Street snakes down from its south-west corner. And, on that famous thoroughfare, sits the fictional digs of Sherlock Holmes. But The Irregulars, a supernatural-tinged drama named for Holmes’ gang of trusty street informants, wasn’t shot in London. Rather, it was filmed on the authentically old streets of Sheffield and Liverpool — the same cobbles walked by the Peaky Blinder boys. So this, Osterfield grins, is a fun opportunity to see the real thing.

“All of the rest of the cast,” he admits, “are really big Sherlock fans. I’ve never really read any of the Sherlock books. I’ve seen maybe one Robert Downey Jr. film? So I was very new going into it.”

Today, then, will be a crash course. Because, after we get Osterfield out of the park (and into that jumper), we’re heading to the Holmes Hotel for a coffee and a catch-up. It’s a relatively new hotel just off Baker Street, decked out with knowing nods to the world’s greatest detective. There’s a bronze bulldog guarding the door, pipe-patterned wallpaper and signature cocktails at the sadly-closed bar (anyone for a ‘Case Closed’?).

But, though there are only suggestions of Sherlock in the Holmes Hotel, Osterfield explains that they’re even subtler in the show. Because The Irregulars, in a nutshell (wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma), sidelines the sleuth, and shifts the focus onto Osterfield and his fellow gang members. The actor plays one of the show’s leads; frail runaway nobleman Prince Leopold. All sullen glances and broken bones, his story is the heart of this first season.

“And it’s been a long project in the making,” says Osterfield, noting that filming on The Irregulars began almost two years ago. “That’s quite daunting. When you’ve spent that much time on something and you’ve got no idea how it’s going to turn out?

“It means that, now, it’s crunch time,” he continues, face creasing with mock-worry, “and I have no idea how people are going to react. But I’m really proud of the work, and that’s what I’m taking away from it.”

The Irregulars may be Osterfield’s first lead role — but he’s been acting for years, popping up in several short films and the George Clooney-directed adaptation of Catch-22 before Netflix took notice. His first role came at 11-years-old, when he was cast as Tiny Tim in his school’s stage production of A Christmas Carol. “It’s funny, actually,” says Osterfield, “because it’s quite a similar physicality to my role in The Irregulars”.

“But that’s where it started,” he continues. “And the real reason I got into acting was because there was this girl in the drama class who I really liked. I thought, if I joined up and impressed her, I could take her out on a date. That didn’t happen. But, although she wasn’t interested at all — the acting seems to be going okay!”

It certainly does. But, like actors all over the world, it’s been a very slow year for Osterfield. He returned to set in September to finish filming the Netflix show — but the rest of his lockdown was eerily, cannily familiar to everyone else’s.

“I went back to my home in Kingston,” he nods, “where I was living with three of my best mates who are also actors. Quite a few of my friends are in theatre, and they had a really tough time of it — not knowing what was going to happen next. I was very lucky, knowing that I was going back to finish something”.

The actor says it was strange being locked-down with fellow performers. With sets closed around the country and curtains falling on theatres, it was one of the first times they had all been at home together. But, even with the additional pressure, he says there were no problems. And there never have been, according to Osterfield — as it’s rare that he and his friends ever compete for the same role.

“We’re all very different castings!” he laughs. “Which is good. It’s a mixed bag, really. But it’s very useful when you’ve got to self-tape an audition and there’s another actor literally upstairs. Also, we’ve all known each other for ten years, so we’ve grown up together and, luckily, know when not to push each other’s buttons.”

With no work, Osterfield spent most of his 2020 getting stuck into lockdown. And he shamelessly tried every self-isolated stereotype. He binge-watched every sports documentary from Drive to Survive to Last Chance U. He upped the frequency and intensity of his workouts. He even tried his hand at cooking. He tried everything.

“I did try everything!” the actor laughs, fizzing once more with that lamppost-swinging, daffodil-dancing energy. “Really! I think I went though every lockdown activity there is. I gave baking a go for two weeks — that didn’t work out. I made a banana bread and that was it. I’m not going to be delving into that any more…

“We were quite lucky, though,” he adds, “because we had an outdoor space. We built a homemade golf net in our garden, by putting up two wooden poles and hanging a blue screen we had left over from filming. That kept us entertained most days”.

But, despite the failed banana breads, closed-off golf courses and Irregulars anxiety, Osterfield says that the worst thing about lockdown was missing his family.

“Because we’re a very close family”, he explains. “Massively so. And, usually, we’d have family gatherings every other weekend – my whole family are in East Grinstead and closer to Brighton, so real countryside. I’m honestly just looking forward to the day, with summer on the horizon, that we can do some good barbecues outside.

“We even tried family Zoom quizzes over lockdown,” he adds, “and they all figured out that I’m not that clever. The rest of my family all seem really, really intelligent. I don’t know if they were just revising beforehand, but I was definitely last a couple of times…”

And Osterfield’s most inspiring family member — not to mention the most irregular — is his 89-year-old grandfather. Despite the young actor upping his own fitness levels during lockdown (“I started doing handstand push-ups. That’s my new skill!”) Osterfield’s grandfather put those athletic achievements to shame.

“He’s fitter than me!” laughs Osterfield. “He’s been kept at home for most of the time and, as a family, we’ve been quite worried about him. But I struggle to keep up with him. I’ll ring him up and ask how his day’s going and he’ll say ‘Oh, hi Harry. Can I call you back later on? I’m just doing some exercise’. So he’s doing better than okay!”

But the exercising, Osterfield says seriously, has been a real lifeline. It’s kept both him and his mind busy during lockdown — and has motivated the actor to pursue more physical, active roles in the future. If he can look back at a body of versatile work, measured out in marked body transformations, he says he’ll be happy.

“I’ve been doing a lot of bodyweight exercise over the last year,” he nods. “I thought it would be quite cool, while in lockdown, to break a world record for something — so I’ve been trying lots of fitness challenges. I’m very close to getting the most burpee chin-ups in under a minute. I’ve got to knuckle down on that.

“I also tried to eat an apple in under 38 seconds,” he laughs. “Which sounds like a long time, but it’s actually quite difficult. And, with apples, I eat everything. Even the middle bit. Even the stem. I just chuck it down. I’m a big fruit bat, so I eat everything apart from the seeds.”

There’s that bouncy energy again; that fun-but-utterly-sincere enthusiasm. It’s an odd thing for an actor, to be so happily unabashed by everything — but the 24-year-old is as animated when talking about his acting as he is about his apples. And that’s nice to see. He’s clearly relishing every opportunity to better himself, and just getting started with what promises to be a very exciting career. Harrison Osterfield, it seems, takes every bite of the apple — literally. Talk about irregular.

#Harrison osterfield #the gentlemans journal #the irregulars #interview

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

Text

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Apologies & Forgiveness

T/W Mentions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts, death, and way too many emotions that honestly made me cry while writing so good luck

Charles Christian,

...

August 10, 1942

Daniel sat at the writing desk in his bedroom, right under the window, with the curtains open wide so the mid-day sun streaked bright warm light over the surface. He stared blankly at the two simple words he had written at the top of the page. Charles Christian. Two simple words that meant more to him than just sixteen letters in a specific order.

He had written those two words a few months earlier, always finding himself returning to the desk and the same paper and staring down at his drying ink until the hours melted away into evening. Elizabeth didn’t push him – even when she found the paper with the two words while cleaning their room one day – and she just let her husband take his time. It was hard for him but they both knew it needed to be done.

Daniel held the black pen in his right hand, leaking a little puddle of ink onto the corner of the page dully, his forehead resting in his other hand. He breathed steadily. He was sick of himself. Sick that he couldn’t work himself up enough to write his own son for three years. Charlie hadn’t written nearly a word to him in a while and Daniel didn’t blame him that he was acting like he didn’t even have a father. It was what Daniel deserved; at least that’s what he thought.

With a heavy sigh, Daniel slid the pen to the left side of the page and let his hand write for him without thought.

I’m sorry that I have been too much of a coward to write you.

He blinked down at the blunt words that were scribbled in his neat handwriting. Daniel exhaled lightly as if writing that single line was emotionally troubling to him as he re-read it a few times before resting the pen back down on the paper.

I’ve dealt through so much loss in my life of those who were closest to me and I suppose my brain has been trying to convince me that putting space between us would make it easier to cope if – God forbid – something happened to you. I don’t want you to die. You’re my whole life…the reason my heart beats…the reason I get up in the morning…the reason I didn’t kill myself after the Great War. I would be dead and nothing without you and I have made the terrible choice to try and shut you out. I’m sorry.

Daniel sniffled back his tears as his hand scribbled over the paper like it had a mind of its own, pouring the pent-up emotions from his brain onto the paper like therapy.

I’m not a good father. I don’t say that to guilt you, I say that truthfully. I didn’t watch you being born into this world, I didn’t want to hold you while you took your first breaths, and I couldn’t even let myself be alone with you for the first near year of your life. I’m a broken man who somehow raised a son to be everything better than I ever could be. It’s been three years of you fighting for us and yet each of your letters sound just as sweet and joyful as the very first one from training. I was fighting for only barely months and I found myself shattered.

A tear dripped onto the paper and Daniel startled at the realization that he was crying. But he only wiped his cheeks with the back of his left hand and continued to write.

I never told you much about the war while you grew up. I didn’t want you to ever have to ever experience the things I did, even through stories. I didn’t want you to have to experience your friend bleeding out in front of you, or your best mate blowing himself up to save you until his blood dripped down your face, or having to hold your brother in your arms and see the fear in his eyes while he took his last breaths. I wanted to protect you from the horrors of the world and the terrible disgusting things that humans can do to each other. You’re my little boy, Charlie. I would have held you in my arms forever if it meant you’d stay innocent and untainted by humanity. But I couldn’t, and part of me feels like I failed as a father for that.

Daniel took a shuttering breath and he dropped the pen from his hand to hold his face in his palms, choking out a sob through the ache in his heart. Evelyn was at work and Elizabeth was hanging up the laundry outside and Daniel was alone in the house, staining a piece of paper in salty tears until the ink nearly smudged. He got up from the desk for a moment to compose himself, trying to take deep steady breaths like Elizabeth always told him to as he paced the wooden floors of his bedroom, raking his fingers through his hair until it was a mess on top of his head.

He stopped for a moment, eyes catching on one of the small photographs that Elizabeth had taped to the side of the mirror at her dressing table. She had many; some of her parents and sister and friends, a wedding photo, and plenty of their two children, but Daniel’s eyes locked on one in particular. It wasn’t anything large and honestly the lighting was quite dark in the composition but he shifted closer to the mirror and gently tucked a finger under the bottom of the photograph to get a better look.

It was a photograph of himself, standing by that very window in their bedroom that he now wrote a letter in front of, the winter sunlight casting him in almost complete dark shadows from behind but the camera was angled just so that his face was recognizable. He was younger – a good twenty-four years younger – and he held in his arms a tiny newborn baby boy. The hesitation on his face was obvious, the camera picking up the nervousness in his eyes and through his brows, but the calm smile that was forever set on his lips was overpowering. It was a smile of nothing but the strongest love.

Daniel tugged the photograph off the side of the mirror and took it over to the writing desk again as he sat down, tossing the image gently onto the paper as well before picking up the pen. He started a new paragraph.

I have to remind myself that your name carries power with you wherever you go. I hate the word ‘brave’ for my own reasons, but I suppose it’s truly at the root of your existence. Your Uncle Christian was more than my brother; he was my best friend, my comfort, and the one I looked up to most in life. He and I had a connection that I can’t even put into words, but I loved him, and I nearly idolised him, and he truly, in all honesty, was the bravest man I knew. War changed him and it took me until his death to realize that it wasn’t his fault that he became so cold. You have more than his name, Charlie, you have his heart. You have his good heart and his loving and protective nature and I see him in you every single day and, yet, I can so obviously see that war isn’t changing you the way it changed him and the way it changed me. You’re braver and stronger than both of us. You know this well as I tell you often, but he’s your protector, your guardian angel, and I swear to you he’s following you wherever you go to make sure you’re safe and that you will come home to us. He’s a part of you, Charles Christian. More than I am, I hope.

I pray you can forgive me. For not writing, for shutting myself away, and for not being what you deserved. I pray you know that no matter what, I love you. I may not know how to show it very well, but I do love you, so strongly. My heart beats for you since you saved my life. I only pray I could give you half of what you have given me.

Your protector, always and forever,

Dad

Daniel folded the paper into even thirds and slipped it in an envelope that he pulled from the drawer beside him. With one final glance at the photograph he dropped it in with the letter and sealed it, finishing with a steady hand as he wrote the RAF address he had memorized on the front.

August 18, 1942

Elizabeth greeted the post office attendant with a smile and her usual friendly ‘good morning’. They shared niceties as her mail was collected and passed over the counter to her before sharing farewells and Elizabeth was headed back towards home. She smiled down at the thin stack of envelopes in her hand as she walked, her name and address written on the top one in her son’s familiar printing. She flipped to the second, the only other piece of mail for that day, and stopped walking for a beat. Her husband’s name was staring back at her, also in her son’s familiar printing.

Elizabeth knew Daniel finally wrote to their son but honestly she was expecting a bit of a cold shoulder on Charlie’s part. He was, as usual, a very opinionated and passionate young man and if something angered him, he didn’t get over it easily. But she was pleasantly surprised and hurried home to read her letter and deliver the second to her husband.

Daniel was still in bed when she returned – it’s been mentioned it was always hard for him to get out of bed in the morning – and Elizabeth called for him as she slipped off her shoes at the front door and headed for the stairs. Daniel barely acknowledged her when she approached him still tucked up in bed.

“Your son wrote you.” she stated softly.

Daniel’s head whipped around to look at her, his eyes flicking down to the two envelopes in her hand.

“Did he?” Daniel went to grab them but she pulled them out of his reach.

“You can read it after you get up and get dressed and have a good breakfast.”

“Lizzie.” Daniel frowned.

“Up and at ‘em, darling.” Elizabeth leaned down to kiss his lips before heading back out of their bedroom.

Daniel huffed in annoyance but pulled himself out of bed to get ready. He was excited to hear that Charlie wrote him back but, at the same time, he was incredibly nervous. He was preparing for an angry response and by the time he got downstairs after being cleaned and dressed and shaved, he was contemplating not even opening it in fear.

Elizabeth set him at the table with tea and breakfast and watched him take a few bites before she would pass over the letter into his waiting hands. She returned to the kitchen to give him a moment to read his letter in private while she could have a moment to read her own too.

Daniel tore open the envelope and carefully slid out the paper. He took a deep breath before unfolding the paper and began to read.

Dad,

I missed you. I know I’ve sent you angry things these past three years and that was wrong of me. You probably know better than anyone the constant uncertainties that come with being away from home to fight and I was still trying to figure out how to get them all under control…hell, I still barely know. I don’t know if I’ll make it to see tomorrow’s sunrise yet alone the end of the conflict. You’ve always been the one I look up to most and I never saw you as less than a superhero. Maybe I was too young to notice, but I never saw your hesitation or your fears or your guilt as I grew up. I only ever saw my Dad. The man who was a bit over protective but the one I could go to when I had a nightmare or the one who would help me with my homework or who would eat the peas off my plate when Mum wasn’t looking because you knew I hated them. (Seems I had to force myself to like them anyway since the RAF canteens love serving peas on nearly a daily basis). You were my first best friend, my first protector that I could really truly feel, and honestly a bit of my partner in crime. I idolised you, Dad.

You hold Uncle Christian up on this pedestal and honestly, I don’t blame you; he’s your big brother and someone you lost tragically but who deserved to live a long life. I’m more than proud to have his name and I do truly thank you for giving me that, for loving me enough to pass on the one thing that honestly meant the world to you: your brother. But, Dad, you can’t hold him up to this angelic standing if you’re only going to tear yourself down at the same time. War is hard and terrible and really fucking sucks and you are so honourable to have survived that whether you were there fighting for two weeks or four years. It doesn’t make you less of a soldier that you lived and didn’t die; and it doesn’t matter that it left you with some scars – it certainly doesn’t matter to me because I still love you just as much now than I did when I was small and had no clue about the world. It’s not about you being able to protect me and keep me away from the horrors that humans can do to each other, but it’s about being there for me when I realise it, live through it, and come home scared out of my mind. It’s about you being strong enough to watch me walk into danger and still hold me when I get hit down. That’s what makes a father, and you are all that and more. You let me go to fight despite how fucking scared you were, and you read all my letters even if you didn’t respond, and you loved me enough to share your real, raw, uncensored fears and feelings with me.

You may say that I saved your life but, without you and your own strength to brave your hardships and trauma, there wouldn’t be me. You saved yourself, Dad. You have overcome a world of fear and terror and gave me a life that was happy and safe and loving. I don’t know much, and I don’t claim to know more than I do, but one thing I’m certain of is that I wouldn’t trade you as my father for anyone else.

I love you. Always and forever, Dad. I promise.

Your son,

Charles Christian

P.S. I already taped our first photograph to the dashboard in my plane. Uncle Christian may always be with me, but now you are too.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @chanelwonders

#✉#daniel seavey #christian seavey #why dont we #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic #daniel seavey imagines #historical fiction

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fanfictionaries · 4 years

Text

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 7 - Stuck

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

Could two friendships on the rocks result in two new ones?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note: Posting a tad early this week. Hope you enjoy!

I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)! Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<<Chapter 6

I'm sitting here stuck And plastered to my seat I th i nk up a reason to leave When you finally stop speaking I'll take a long slow Walk down Washington Street Half asleep on my feet Half aware if I'm dreaming

Hermione managed to stow herself away in the library for nearly sixteen hours, one of her personal bests, before Madame Pince kicked her out. The grave woman nearly threw her from the premises, claiming she was closing the library early and that despite her biases Hermione should spend some time away from the stacks of books. So now she wandered the castle, lost in thoughts of tournaments, legislature, hidden agendas, and friendship. The castle held the same familiar chill as her feet chose her destination, eventually leading her to a part of the castle only recently familiar to her. At the end of a long corridor, illuminated by two torches placed on either side, hung a painting. Mechanically, Hermione sat on the cold stone, tucking her robes around her, and stared at the landscape that drew her in the first time she saw it three days ago.

Like most paintings in the wizarding world it was enchanted, but instead of some historical witch or wizard as the focal point, the only movement in the frame was the soft sway of long grass and leaves that rustled in the wind. The sun peaked in and out of the clouds, casting ever changing rays of light across the meadow. She felt a calm envelope her as she looked at the bright yellows and peaches of the Adonis and honeysuckle dispersed throughout the grass. Several bees visited the flowers before disappearing from the frame. Hermione followed one as it zigzagged towards the edge of the field near the trees. It stopped on a small patch of zinnias and Hermione felt herself hit with a wave of emotions that had been threatening to capsize her all day. A single tear ran down her cheek as she thought of Ron and Harry. While she was quite familiar with solitude, having grown up an only child and often alienated by her peers, here, sitting on the floor of an empty corridor, she felt for the first time utterly alone.

And despite Harry and Ron’s cruel treatment towards her, she still felt responsible for fixing it. She spent all afternoon trying to figure out how to get her two best friends to cease being angry with each other and how to keep Harry alive this year. By the end she felt no closer to a solution for either problem. Tears continued to fall silently down her face. Hermione’s vision blurred over white gardenias and blue periwinkles, and she remembered the last time she encountered the painting. Her thoughts had been stupid – trivial ramblings questioning her worth as a woman and whether any boy would ever like her. That time the field had been nothing but white heather. What a lovely bit of magic, thought Hermione.

Eventually, when her joints were stiff and backside sore, Hermione stood and made her way back to Gryffindor tower. She walked through the threshold of the portrait hole, thankful that she hadn’t been caught out of bed by Filch or a teacher. Looking around the empty common room, Hermione realized that despite the emotional drain of the day she wasn’t tired. So, she picked up a nearby book left on a table and sat down on the sofa in front of the fire. It hurt to read, her eyes red and puffy from the crying she’d done earlier, but still she pushed on. She had only been there a short while when the sound of the portrait hole opening took her by surprise. Who could be getting in this late? she wondered. Her question was answered when a pair of shaggy red-headed hooligans walked through the opening. Hermione willed herself to be as small as possible. The last thing she needed was the two of them making fun of her in a rare moment of weakness. Much to her dismay the pair noticed her immediately. They walked towards her with large impish grins and Hermione desperately tried to think of how she could get them to go away. Despite her bright nature her brain did nothing for her in that moment and she was left to sink further into the couch, hoping it would swallow her whole.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here Freddie?”

“Why it looks to be our favorite fourth year Georgie.”

The twins seated themselves on either side of her. Hermione hid further into her book, hiding her red eyes and splotchy face. So much for being the brightest witch of her age. She couldn’t even figure out how to escape two bumbling Weasleys.

“Burning the midnight oil Granger?” Fred asked, shaking his hair out of his face.

“You should really give it a rest there,” George teased, nudging her shoulder.

“Yeah, give everyone else in your class a chance. They’ll never come close to your marks if you’re staying up this late studying every night,” added Fred. Hermione remained silent, hidden behind her book. When they received no response, they tried another approach.

“As you can see our grey hair and wrinkles have completely faded,” George pointed out.

“Yes, except I don’t remember the bags under George’s eyes being quite so bad. You better hope that wears off mate or I will definitely be the more handsome twin.” Fred received a smack on the back of the head from his brother for his cheeky remark.

“What Granger? No, ‘I told you so’?” Fred directed his attention back to the little witch between them as he rubbed the back of his head.

“No, ‘you should have listened to me’?”

“No, comment on our dim-witted attempts at fame and fortune?”

They wagged their eyebrows at her, but Hermione remained behind her book, hoping they would consider it a calculated and obvious sign that she was ignoring them. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect, her lack of response only fueling their desire to investigate further. Fred reached over and tugged at the top of the book.

“Hey, what’s this then?” Fred asked, getting a peak at her complexion. He reached towards her face and swiped a thumb across the reddened skin under her eyes. “Why are you crying Granger?”

Hermione shied away from the contact and cursed herself for not doing a glamour spell or at least a disillusionment spell on herself.

“It’s nothing. Um, sad book is all,” she lied, trying to feign indifference. Sad book? Of all the excuses, Hermione berated herself. George grabbed the book from her hands and inspected it.

“I never knew Charms could be so heart-wrenching…we’re not idiots Hermione,” George stated plainly.

“Are you alright?” Fred asked as he lifted her chin. For a second time that night, Hermione felt the weight of the past twenty-four hours fall on her. This time, it was as though her body had been waiting for some sign that it was okay to fall apart, and the twins’ kind gestures had been just that. A short sob escaped her throat and her eyes began to sting as fresh tears welled, daring to spill past her lashes.

“Alright, alright. Come here,” Fred cooed, scooting closer and pulling Hermione onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tight. George followed suit, draping her legs over his lap, and giving her calf a reassuring squeeze. Hermione buried her face in Fred’s chest and continued to sob harder than she’d ever cried before. The two silently comforted her, George rubbing a hand up and down her leg and Fred stroking her hair. They sat like that for a while, never saying a word – simply acting as figures of stability. Finally, when her body was no longer wracked with little tremors and her cries subsided into sniffles, Hermione pulled away from Fred and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve.

“Feel better?” Fred asked, brushing her smothering hair from her face. Hermione nodded, realizing in horror that not only was she currently on top of the twins, but she had ruined Fred’s sweater. Scooting off of their laps, she sniffed and mumbled a meek apology.

“It’s just a few tears. Now, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?” Fred asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“Did someone step on one of your books?”

Again, she shook her head.

“Did you do poorly on an essay?”

Hermione shook her head again and scoffed at the idea.

“Is it…girly problems?” George made a face at the thought.

This caused Hermione to let out a short giggle and shake her head again.

“Then what is it?” Fred pushed.

“You’re going to think it’s ridiculous,” Hermione said, wiping her red and swollen eyes. She knew she must look an awful fright. When they didn’t say anything, she took it as her cue to continue. “It’s Harry and Ron; they’re mad at me. Harry, because he’s convinced that everyone’s against him even though I’m not, and Ronald, because I’m not angry with Harry. I know they’re both under a lot of stress what with the tournament and Ron’s jealousy, but I guess I just feel like neither of them really care how I feel.” She sniffed, shaking her head at how pathetic she must sound.

George looked at his brother. “I should have known that our thick-headed little brother had something to do with all of this. First of all, we don’t think it’s ridiculous,” George stated firmly.

“And secondly, you have every right to be upset,” added Fred.

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“Of course! They’re being selfish gits and I have half a mind to put itching powder in all their clothes,” Fred fumed.

“But because we know that’s probably the last thing you want us to do—” started George.

“—we won’t. Instead we will remind you that you’re Hermione Granger and absolutely too good for either of those imbeciles.”

“So, next time you see our little Ronikins…”

“—you can tell him exactly where to shove his attitude.”

Hermione smiled. “Thank you. You really don’t have to be this nice.”

“Nonsense, you may be our idiot baby brother’s friend, but we’ve grown quite fond of you,” said Fred with a friendly nudge of her shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re like a second sister to us. No one gets to mess with you but us and that includes our brother and the Boy Who Lived. It’s sort of a rule.” George leaned across Fred and tapped a finger to the end of her nose. Hermione let out a small laugh that turned into an overwhelming yawn. Realizing she was utterly exhausted, Hermione waited for the small bit of anxiety that now came with the thought of sleep these days. To her surprise, it never came.

“Alright Fred, looks like we’ve worn her out.”

“I think you’re right George. Up we go! Time for bed!” Fred decreed, hooking his arms under Hermione, and lifting her into the air.

“Frederick Weasley! Put me down! I am entirely capable of walking. I’m tired, not paralyzed! Hermione crossed her arms and gave the boy a disapproving look. Fred merely smiled politely before placing her down at the base of the stairs leading up to the girls’ dormitories. Hermione let out a little huff and ran her hands over her mussed hair, attempting to flatten it.

“Goodnight you two…and thank you. I suppose I owe you. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll tell you why your aging potion didn’t work, and how you could have actually gotten your names in,” Hermione stated with a small smile.

“I’m calling you on that one Granger,” scoffed George.

“Even you’re not that brilliant!” the twins exclaimed in unison.

Hermione raised a brow and with a twinkle of mischief in her eye, she shrugged her shoulders and began to walk up the stairs.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” she threw back at them as she disappeared around the bend.

It was a strange day at Hogwarts that following Monday morning. The weather outside was dark and gloomy once again, but the mood of the students was quite the opposite. The first challenge of the tournament was only three weeks away and the school was abuzz over what it could be, and who would come out on top. Hermione heard whispers in her morning classes of Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory; it seems they were everyone’s bet. Then of course there were the harsh words and accusations toward her best friend. It hurt her heart to hear such dreadful things about someone she cared for, even if he was being a complete jerk. Malfoy was the worst, with his open mocking and constant bullying in Care of Magical Creatures. Many times, Hermione fantasized about wiping the stupid smirk off his face like she had the year before. But instead she ended up taking her frustrations out on two second year Hufflepuffs gossiping in the library that afternoon.

“It would do you two well to not talk about things you know nothing about—" she seethed, sliding her things into her bag “—and no talking in the library. Or else I’ll be tasked to inform Madame Pince.”

She regretted the way she spoke to the younger students. While it certainly taught them a lesson on gossiping, she shouldn’t have been so harsh – they were still young. She didn’t even have her usual excuse of sleep deprivation to blame either. Much to her surprise, after departing to her room, she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep the moment her head hit the pillow. In fact, she slept so deeply and so peacefully that she missed her alarm and had to rush to make it to her first class on time. It wasn’t until she was in her seat, quill in hand, that the memories of the night before came rushing back and Hermione had to focus to determine whether it had all been a strange dream or not. The oddities only continued to pile up, as just before lunch she realized she had completely forgotten to write a short Transfiguration essay that was due later that day. She had no idea how it managed to slip her mind, as it was very out of character for her to forget an assignment at all. She rushed to the library, forgoing lunch and came upon the next strange thing to happen that day. Viktor Krum, of all people, was seated at her favorite table. This forced her to sit at a different one, much too far from the window overlooking the lake and much too close to the stacks, which resulted in her overhearing the two Hufflepuffs.

Now, as she made her way to the Great Hall for dinner, stomach growling, she realized her sour response might have been a result of low blood sugar.

It seemed Hermione’s whole day was destined to be a whirlwind of obstacles, for as she entered the Great Hall, she faced her next challenge – where to sit. Ronald sat with Seamus, Dean, Pavarti, and a few other Gryffindors in their year near the end of the long table and for fear of confrontation, Hermione decided that sitting with them was probably the last thing she wanted to do. A little further down the table, Harry sat sullen next to Neville Longbottom. The presence of the sandy blonde boy gave Hermione hope. Maybe Harry’s finally over his delusions, she thought making her way over and seating herself across from them.

“Hullo Hermione!” greeted Neville in a friendly tone. Neville was one of her favorite classmates. Where he was bumbling and lacking in self-confidence, he made up for it in kindness, acceptance, and all-around goodness. It was always surprising to her that he hadn’t been a top pick for Hufflepuff. But then again, his actions their first year gave insight to his true potential.

“Hullo Neville. How are you coming along with the Charms essay?” she asked, setting her bag down next to her.

“Not very good. I’ve got all the ideas but I’m not quite sure how to put them down. I may need some more help…” he admitted bashfully, looking down to his plate.

“That’s alright Neville. That’s a fairly common problem. I’d be more than hap—”

“Why are you sitting here?” Harry cut her off. Hermione, shocked by his outburst, was at a loss for words. “I don’t appreciate you sitting with me just to act spy for Ron,” he spat bitterly, not even looking up from his food.

“Harry, I’m not—”

“Look, I know how you and Ron feel, and I know how everyone else feels. So just stop pretending,” he snarled harshly, looking up at her with cold eyes. Hermione pursed her lips and stood, utterly embarrassed. She tried hard not to look at Neville’s pitying face as she lifted her book bag onto her shoulder and walked to an empty spot at the table. Staring at the wood grain of the tabletop, Hermione wondered if it was even worth trying to eat something. Willing herself not to cry, a movement caught the corner of her eye and voices began to speak to her.

“Not hungry Granger?”

“That’s a shame. The spread looks exceptionally delicious tonight.”

“He’s right. I think it might be the house elves trying to show off for the new guests.”

“We have a bet going as for how long they’ll keep it up.”

“George here thinks it will be over by January.”

“But Fred insists that it will keep up till Durmstrang and Beauxbatons leave.”

“What’s your take on it, Granger?”

Hermione lifted her head and stared at the red-headed twin sitting next to her in utter confusion. She glanced at his face and recognized him as Fred, but couldn’t manage to process the fact that she had to in fact speak. She must have been staring for too long because Fred pressed further.

“You know, because you know all about them?” He looked at her expectantly, but Hermione’s mind remained a foggy mess.

“What?” she asked dumbly.

“You know, because of all the research you’ve done for your organization. What’s it called again? S.P.E.W.?” George added helpfully from across the table.

“You know about the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare?” said Hermione in surprise.

“Of course—” started Fred.

“How could we not? You’ve given us at least twenty buttons so far this year!”

“To pass out to others! You did pass them out, right?” Hermione looked from Fred to George. The pair wore guilty expressions.

“We may have charmed them to, I guess you could say, spew actual vomit and then pinned them to the back of Filch’s robes,” admitted Fred scratching the back of his head.

“Frederick! I gave you those so people could see them!” Hermione reached forward and started to pile her plate high with potatoes, vegetables, and chicken.

“Well technically, a whole bunch of people saw them,” remarked George, starting to fill his plate as well.

“Unfortunately, it was as Filch was slipping and falling into a giant puddle of vomit,” said Fred with a chuckle, looking skyward at the memory.

Hermione pouted into her chicken, cutting into it with her knife.

“Don’t look so sour Granger. It’s probably for the best—” George reached across the table and grabbed a steaming, buttered roll from a basket “—we’ve been down to the kitchens loads of times and not a single one of them gives a toss about house elf rights. In fact, they view the idea of getting paid for their work as insulting.”

“That’s because they don’t know any better!” cried Hermione, throwing down her fork.

“Now Granger, don’t go infantilizing them. If they’re smart enough for you to think they should be equal members of society, then they’re smart enough to decide whether they want to be paid or not for their work,” Fred chided, picking up his napkin and wiping at the corner of his mouth.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but found, very surprisingly, that she had nothing to say. She’d never considered that before. Curiously, she stared at Fred. He had a very valid point. It still rubbed her the wrong way when she thought about it. To enslave an entire race of individuals and not pay them or give them any choice? They had no real rights, no real say in anything. Some of them were treated so poorly they resorted to punishing themselves. In the muggle world, something like that would have started wars. But things were different in the wizarding world. There were customs she was unfamiliar with and mindsets she couldn’t begin to understand. She continued to muse on the topic as they sat eating silently. Once she had had her fill, Hermione took a sip of pumpkin juice and asked the question that had been on her mind all throughout dinner.

“Why are you two sitting with me and not your friends?”

She felt the heavy weight of Fred’s arm fall over her shoulders and she looked up at him.

“Are we not allowed to partake in the loveliness of your warm and inviting personality Granger?” he teased, calling out the brashness of her behavior thus far.

“Yeah, maybe we genuinely want to spend time with our favorite little book worm,” added George with a wink.

“Or, maybe you remembered that I promised to tell you how you could have gotten past the age barrier on the goblet and now you’re looking for me to pay up,” Hermione pointed out rolling her eyes.

“Drats Freddie! She’s figured us out.”

“Told you she would Georgie. She’s too bright to let our trickery get past her.”

“Brightest witch of our age I hear.”

“Really? Of our age? Imagine that.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at their banter. It wasn’t every day her intelligence was praised as opposed to ridiculed. “Are you two quite done or do you not wish to hear my secrets?”

“Alright Granger let’s hear it then. Where did we go wrong?” Fred asked taking his arm off her shoulder and turning on the bench to face her. Hermione glanced between the two expectant faces and then began.

“Well there are three ways in which you could have gotten your names into the goblet. The first two have to do with maturity—”

“Maturity? I happen to be quite mature, thank you!” George stated in mock hurt.

“Right…and the third has to do with common sense.”

“She’s got us there Georgie. That is something we tend to lack,” Fred added sarcastically.

“To be fair, you two had the right idea when you made the aging potion. However, it’s not enough for you to appear a few months older. It’s your soul as well as your body that must age,” Hermione continued. She appeared to now have the twins’ full attentions.

“How would we do that then?” Fred ask earnestly.

“The first way of course would have been to wait until you turned seventeen, somehow come into possession of a time-turner, sent yourself into the past and then put your names in the goblet. However, it’s extremely ill-advised and dangerous to meddle with time and so it’s probably best that you didn’t do that. Not to mention, time-turners are highly regulated and incredibly hard to get your hands on. The second way would have been with a maturing draught. The first difficulty with that is the rarity and price of the ingredients. The second is that the potion becomes more complicated and takes longer to make as the amount you want to mature increases and for you two, I imagine it would have taken a very long time for you to brew.” She ended her last comment with a smirk, chest swelling with pride as the twins’ mouths hung open.

“Did you just hear that Freddie? I think our little Granger just made a joke.”

“And at our expense it seems.”

Hermione let out a small laugh before continuing, “Of course that is all conjecture.”

“Wait. So, it’s all just theory then! You have no idea if that would even work?” George exclaimed.

“Brightest witch of our age indeed…” Fred added, earning a playful slap from the witch sitting next to him.

“Well it’s not as if Dumbledore took me aside and told me exactly how to get past the age line. But I think those are as good as any theory you’re likely to hear!” she defended herself.

“What was the third way? You said there was a third way. Hopefully, this one is better than conjecture.” George rolled his eyes.

“Well isn’t it obvious?” Hermione asked, looking between the two.

“Obviously not,” said Fred.

“You could have just bribed an older student to put your names in for you,” Hermione stated plainly. There was a moment of silence amongst the group, and then all three burst into laughter. Their cries turned heads from all around the Great Hall, but none of them seemed to notice or care.

“There was no way that George or I were going to spend our heard-earned sickles on some seventh-year prat for a chance at eternal fame and glory!” Fred stated when he finally found his breath.

“Yeah, not when we can get that all on our own!” agreed George.

“Goblet be damned!” Fred exclaimed loudly, standing up to make his point. Hermione quickly grabbed him by his robes and pulled him back down, embarrassed by his outburst but still laughing all the same.

“To be fair, we did try and bribe Jordan with some very enticing Honeydukes chocolate, but he wouldn’t go for it! Can you believe that? Some friend he is…” George shook his head in disappointment.

“Gee, I can’t imagine why a few chocolate frogs didn’t convince him to aid in your rule breaking,” Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed.

“What’s wrong with chocolate frogs?!” the twins asked together.

“I think we should head back to the tower,” said Hermione, looking around her with a surprised expression.

Fred stopped and did the same only to realize that the Great Hall was nearly empty. It seems while they were busy talking and laughing, the rest of the school had left to go about their nights. Fred found that once he and George got the little witch to open up, it was like a faucet with a broken tap. The bushy-haired girl gushed with charisma, humor, and wit. In fact, she spoke as if no one ever asked her about her interests before. He thought that was quite possibly true as all the times he observed the “Golden Trio” in the past, it was usually Ron and Harry talking about quidditch and then rolling their eyes whenever Hermione spoke about anything. Could it be that none of her friends showed any interest in her? Fred couldn’t help but notice the bit of fire hiding behind her eyes when she spoke about magical creature equality, books she had read recently, or subjects she just learned in class. It was the same fire he saw in her more and more these days; he saw it back at the burrow when they talked in the kitchen, in the hallways when he walked her back to the common room, in the woods when they…Fred shook his head of the memory. Nevertheless, there was something about that fire, that strength she showed that absolutely intrigued him.

Standing from their place at the table, they made their way toward Gryffindor tower, continuing their conversation.

“You’re telling me there’s no market for love potions?” George asked incredulously.

“I’m not saying there isn’t some market for it. I’m merely saying they’re silly, and highly dangerous when you think about it. I can’t believe they’re not banned!” cried Hermione, tucking a curl behind her ear. Fred, too engrossed with the movement of her hand, neglected to chime in on the argument.

“Come on Hermione, they’re not as bad as you’re making them out to be.” George rolled his eyes.

“Really?—” Hermione spun on the spot, walking backwards as she spoke “—Okay, for the pure purpose of debate let’s say I was to concoct a love potion and give it to Fred.”

That sentence caught Fred’s attention quite well.

“Go on,” spoke Fred and George.

“And let’s say that as a result he fell madly in love with me. You wouldn’t see anything wrong with that?”

Fred snorted. “Aside from being in love with a little swot?”

Hermione shot him a dirty look.

“The potion would wear off eventually,” challenged George, clearly still operating within the confines of their argument.

“Not if I kept giving it to him—oof!” Hermione’s sentence was cut short by running into a solid stone bannister at the end of the corridor. Dropping her book bag with a loud thump, her eyes grew large as she started to fall backwards. Using his quidditch reflexes, Fred reached out and grabbed the witch by the forearm before she could topple over the bannister and down the many floors. Once Hermione was set right on her feet, Fred grabbed her book bag from the ground and flung it over his shoulder. Despite the strength he had from many years of quidditch, Fred still gave a little groan at the sheer weight of it.

“Merlin, Hermione. What do you have in here? The entire library?”

“Just the necessities! If you’re going to complain, I can just carry it myself.” Hermione reached for her bag, but Fred swiftly avoided her.

“Now, now. I wasn’t complaining! I’m just surprised you can lift it,” remarked Fred, as they began to walk towards the tower once more.

“What? Because I’m a girl I can’t carry a heavy bag?”

“I think he’s more referring to the fact that you look like you weigh barely eight stone dripping wet and your arms are about a thick as a Bowtruckle’s,” laughed George, pinching Hermione’s arm through her thick sweater.

“I’ll have you know I’m not as feeble as you make me out to be,” sniffed Hermione.

“You hear that Freddie? She’s not as feeble as we make her out to be.”

Fred knew the tone in George’s words all too well. Briefly sharing a wicked grin, the two swooped down and lifted Hermione into the air. She put up a good fight, Fred had to admit that, but in the end, she relented, George’s arms linked under her armpits and Fred’s hands grasped firmly around her ankles. The twins laughed obnoxiously as they rounded the last corner up the stairs and came to the portrait entrance to Gryffindor tower.

“Okay, you can put me down now. You’ve had your laugh!”

“What do you think Freddie? Have we had our fill?” George asked, beaming at his twin.

Fred pursed his lips, pretending to think on the subject for a moment before he shook his head from side to side. “Nah, I don’t think we have. Balderdash!” he yelled the password to the Fat Lady with excess enthusiasm, gripping Hermione tighter when she began to thrash, realizing they were carrying her into the common room.

“Make way, fresh catch of the day!” yelled George over the crowd of Gryffindor students.

“Fred! George! Put me down!”

The two ignored her, grinning from ear to ear as they parted through their interested peers, obviously surprised to see such a sight. It wasn’t uncommon for Fred and George to make a ruckus in the common room, but to make one that included Hermione Granger? Absolutely unheard of.

“Oi!” barked Lee Jordan from a nearby table. “What have you two got there?”

“Oh, this here?” asked Fred casually. “Well while we were out, George and I thought we’d do a bit of bird hunting.”

The comment earned him a few laughs, filling Fred with pride.

“And believe me, she wasn’t the easiest of prey. Isn’t that right Fred?” George asked his brother.

“I wouldn’t say that George. I’d say she nearly leapt into our arms. She did threaten to slip me a love potion.”

That comment earned him a swift kick from Hermione’s right foot. Not paying attention, the kick landed squarely in his gut and Fred dropped her legs as he wrapped his arms ‘round his middle. Now able to use the leverage of her feet, Hermione pulled out of George’s grasp and grabbed her book bag from Fred’s shoulder. She took a moment to stare down at Fred, as he stood doubled over in pain. Her brown eyes narrowed down at him, her hair falling around her face.

“If I had a love potion, you’d be the last person I’d waste it on, Frederick Weasley,” Hermione stated plainly, before patting him lightly on the head and walking towards the girls’ dormitories.

A smattering of ‘oohs’ came from the crowd around them, and Fred had to fight very hard not to go red as he straightened out and watched Hermione Granger exited the common room. Despite having embarrassed him, he couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he watched the curly headed girl walk up the stairs with a bounce in her step. He couldn’t wait to see how she would surprise him next.

Chapter 8 >>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

#fremione #fred x hermione #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #harry potter #friends to lovers #angst #mutual pining

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sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years

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Heeeey 👀 Can you maybe write some Luke and reader being best friends where she have deeper feelings but he's just oblivious and claims he doesn't so one day Luke's talking about a possible love interest and she leaves the room and Calum follows her and hug her cause br0hs and Luke watch them and can't explain why is he feeling jealous so the next days he's an ass to Cal and they talk and Cal is like "just tell her you love her or someone else will« and he realizes he's in love and fluffy end 👀

Make Your Move - L. Hemmings

Hello my love! I’m so sorry this took so long! Thank you so much for the request! Requests are getting filled now, as I am on break from Uni! Hope you enjoy!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Luke was an intelligent person. He knew random things, he could memorize the chords to the most difficult of songs, solve math problems in seconds. He was a smart man.

But he was also the most ignorant person to walk across the face of the Earth.

Anybody could see the way that Y/N looked at him. How she seemed as if he brought the light to her world when he walked in the room.

When he spoke, she listened. When he joked, she laughed. When he threw his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek, her heart hammered away at her rib cage.

She had feelings for her best friend that were far deeper than one normally experiences with their friends. She wanted to grow old with him, share his last name, build a family and a life with him like she desired with no other.

“All I’m saying is, if Luke could walk around with Yoda in his backpack, why couldn’t I, whose name is also Luke, carry Petunia around with me?”

Calum rolled his eyes behind his phone, attempting to ignore the conversation being had between two of his friends. Ashton and Luke has originally been engaged in a conversation about Star Wats which quickly developed into what they would each do if they were living as Luke Skywalker.

Calum has zero care for the conversation, and didn’t pipe his head up from behind his device until he heard the ringing of Luke’s phone.

“September” by Earth, Wind and Fire flooded the room. The signal for a call from Y/N. Luke had made sure to alter his ringtone for her on the second day of their friendship after he discovered it was her favourite song.

“Hey Boo,” he answered, ignoring Ashton and walking to another room to carry out his conversation.

Ashton smirked at his friend as Luke walked away, sending him a knowing look. They could see the obvious tension between the two, yet they knew Y/N would never confess her crush and Luke was too oblivious to realize his feelings for her.

Michael sauntered into the room, a cringe deepening his features, “How can they talk to each other in such a lovey and gross way, yet not be together? It’s making me have an identity crisis.”

“They need to just call it a day and admit that they’re desperately in love with one another so I can get some peace,” Ashton whined. They were all currently occupying his lounge room, Michael going as far as to raid his kitchen for any type of snack he could get his hands on. Even if that meant the bunch of snacks from Australia that he had hidden from the man.

“There is no peace with us around. You should be used to that by now.” Calum had his phone in front of his face again. The guys often joked that he was chatting up some woman or looking at nsfw content, when in reality, Y/N got him hooked on Candy Crush and he’s dying to beat her high score.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Yeah, sure, I’ll see you in an hour.” Luke sauntered back into the room, a grin on his features that shone with genuine glee as he slid his phone back into the pocket of his trackpants.

“Got another date with our favourite Y/N?” Michael winked, a mouth full of Shapes.

Luke fought to keep the slight pink tinge from his cheeks, rolling his eyes at Michael. “It’s never a date. She’s my best friend, you know that.”

“You only say that because you’re scared that I’ll take offense. It’s okay, Muke can live on, even if you are with Y/N.”

Luke didn’t bother justifying Michael’s words with an answer. He hated when his friends would act like teenagers, gossiping and chiding him for his apparent crush on his best friend. Even if he didn’t have any feelings for her like that.

“Mate, you’re not fooling any of us,” Calum dropped his device into his lap, fixing his taller friend with an amused gaze. “You don’t need to keep your secrets from us. We won’t go spreading your business.”

Luke huffed, snatching a band from his wrist to tie his hair back. “There’s nothing to tell. Get it through your thick heads, fellas. Y/N is my best friend. Nothing more and will be nothing more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N always felt most at ease when Luke was around. Despite her deep admiration for him, they had been friends for far longer than she had longed for him, and they knew one another inside and out.

Well... almost.

Calum had tagged along for their fortnightly movie night, and she found herself situated on the lounge between the two, her head on Luke’s shoulder and popcorn on her lap for the two men to claim when they wanted.

It was a battle between the two, as both wanted to hold the bowl so they could hog the snack, but she pulled rank and retrieved the booty.

They were almost an hour and a half into the first Avengers movie, and Luke had been glued to his phone the entire time. Even worse, his phone was on loud. Chiming every few seconds and interrupting Loki’s monologue and almost every word that Tony Stark spoke.

Both Calum and Y/N were at their wits end, but Y/N was far too polite to say anything.

Calum, on the other hand, gave zero fucks.

“Luke, so help me god, then your phone on silent or invite us and the whole cast of this damn movie into your conversation. We’re trying to listen,” the man snapped, causing Y/N to jump. Calum places his hand on her knee with an apologetic smile and Luke’s eyes lingered on the touch.

“Fine, sorry. Didn’t realize that the movie you both have seen over twenty times was so easily disrupted by the sound of my phone.” He stuck his tongue out at Y/N as she sent him a faux-glare. She was the kindest person he knew, and he often found himself spending hours thinking over her purity and angelic qualities.

She was admirable in his eyes.

“Nah.” Calum snatched the remote from the coffee table, switching the television off and twisting his body to face his two friends. “Now you need to spill. I want to know what’s so important that you can’t devote your attention to your two best friends and their favourite movie.”

Luke had half a brain to tell Calum to keep his nose to himself, but the curiosity in Y/N’s eyes made him want to spill his guts. She had more power over him than any of his other best friends had ever held. She had always been different. Something about her struck a different chord in him, and he could never figure out what it was.

Luke shifted slightly, waiting for Y/N to regain her position on his shoulder before wrapping one arm around her and directing his gaze to his brown-eyed friend.

“Jack gave me the number of one of his friends - Allie. We’ve been texting all day,” Luke said, attempting to keep his excitement on the down low. Y/N had always been sensitive on the topic of relationships. She never found comfort when in them, as if she were holding out for one thing. Luke would be damned if he knew what it was. “We’re going to get coffee next week.”

“That’s... that’s really good, mate. I’m happy for you,” Calum smiled at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, making sure to avoid Y/N’s head.

She looked up at Luke, offering a tight smile that appeared more forced than genuine. Calum was eyeing her, switching his gaze between his two friends to gauge both of their reactions.

It was silent for a moment.

“I, Uh, I’ll be back in a second,” Y/N cleared her throat, avoiding the eyes on her as she stood quickly and walked from the room.

Luke watched her leave, feeling something pang in his chest. His phone pinged on his lap once again, and he visibly smiled at the message on his phone.

But it did nothing to quell the tightness in his chest that followed Y/N’s absence.

Calum excused himself to use the bathroom, although it fell on deaf ears as Luke was far too absorbed in his phone, and the woman on the other end of the line.

Calum expected to hear the sound of somebody crying, given how fast Y/N’s feet had carried her out of the room. Instead, she was stood with her palms pressed against the granite countertop of her kitchen, head hung and shoulder slumped.

It was silent enough that they could hear Luke tapping away on his phone with the movie still paused in the background, even if they were separated by a bathroom between the two rooms.

She heard him enter, knowing full well that he would have followed her. Calum was a good friend like that. After all, he had done the same when Luke felt uncomfortable being around Y/N and her ex boyfriend six months prior.

“I’m fighting a losing battle, aren’t I?” She whispered, allowing Calum to properly listen to the pain in her tone.

His heart broke at the sound. “YN-“

“No matter how hard I try to let him know how much I care about him, it doesn’t work. I tell him how I feel and he thinks that I’m saying it as a friend, because that’s all I’ll ever be to him,” she mumbles, turning to press her back against the granite, and he watches as a tear rolls down her cheek. “He will never feel the same about me, so I don’t know why I’m trying to make something of nothing.”

He walks towards her, his large hands holding both of her shoulders in his palms. He’s at a loss for words, mouth gaping as he rubs the joints in his hand, before slipping his hands down to hers, all while trying to bring words to his tongue.

He knew that Luke felt the same about her, even if he didn’t realize it. It was obvious in the way he looked at Y/N, how he reacted to her presence, how he rarely stopped talking about her. Their entire friendship had been like looking at the naïve honeymoon phase, yet neither would openly confess their love for one another and believe the other.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he starts, testing the words before committing to his speech. “I wish I could grab him and shake him, sometimes.”

“I do too,” she sighed, pulling her hands from his and wrapping her arms round his waist.

He held her in his embrace, offering any comfort he could, unaware of the icy eyes fixing him with a glare as harsh as he could muster from the entryway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Luke to wake up with his friends in his house. After all, he often did the same to them. However, there was one person he definitely didn’t want to see, albeit, the person that was standing in his kitchen, drinking his coffee and reading his paper.

Calum seemed to want many things that Luke had as of late.

“Hey mate,” Calum chirped as Luke entered the kitchen. The mere sight of the man annoyed him, and he was flooded with an overwhelming sense of jealousy. He was not in the mood to deal with Calum at the moment.

Luke did all he could do not growl at the man upon sight, and instead chose to grab his own coffee and walk out of the room.

Calum and Luke had been friends for years, and held the kind of friendship that had never been dampened by an argument or a tiff of any kind.

Immediately, Calum was confused. He trailed after Luke, taking a seat next to him on the lounge as the blonde flicked through the channels on the television.

“How’d you sleep?” Calum asked, settling his gaze on the television yet his mind was focused on his friend.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” Cal chuckled slightly, awkwardly.

“Yup.”

Calum flared his nostrils, shifting his eyes to now be on Luke. If he was going to get one syllable answers, even he would do so while trying to force the problem out of his friend.

“Have any weird dreams?”

“No.”

He still stared at Luke’s profile, eyes not moving.

“Petunia going on a diet anytime soon?”

“No.”

“She’s overweight, isn’t she?”

“Yup.”

“You should consider putting her on a diet then.”

He watched Luke set his jaw, sighing heavily through his nose as he tried to focus on the programme playing on the screen.

“Who do you prefer: Jared Leto or Joaquin Phoenix as they joker-“

“What the fuck are you trying to achieve here, Calum?” He snapped, running a hand grouch his long hair and avoiding the amused gaze of Calum.

“Just trying to figure out what has your knickers in a twist, Lucas. You barely spoke when I came back from the bathroom at Y/N’s last night and now you’re the single syllable king. What’s up your ass?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you realised anything was wrong, considering you were too busy being all over Y/N last night,” Luke snapped, still avoiding looking at Calum. He was far too annoyed.

A chuckle fell from the Brunets’ lips as he rested back against the arm of the lounge, still locking his gaze on Luke. “I knew it. I thought you saw me hug Y/N last night. That makes perfect sense now; you’re jealous.”

The smirk on Calum’s face made Luke want to smack it off.

“I’m not jealous-“

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not-“

“Bullshit.” Calum clapped his hands twice, finding the situation amusing. “When are you going to get it through your pretty skull that you have feelings for her?”

“Because I don’t!” Luke’s voice was harsher than he intended. He didn’t have feelings for Y/N. He couldn’t. It would just complicate things more.

He didn’t have feelings for her, he was sure of it. So what if sometimes he couldn’t stop looking at her. Or sometimes he couldn’t get her off of his mind, or couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing she is. So what if sometimes he wanted to kiss her, and hold her, and call her his.

There was a beat of silence. Amusement for Calum, shocking realization for Luke.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

“There it is,” Calum smirked again, watching as Luke slumped, his face in both hands. “Do you have any idea how crazy she is for you? I was with her last night because she was upset. Every time you find a new girl, she gets more upset. She tried to tell you how she felt, she’s tried many times-“

“But I always brush it off as platonic feelings,” the words came out in a groan, his heart sinking into his stomach at the thought of how Y/N felt all of those times where he brushed off her admissions with an utterance of the words “pal” or “mate”.

Calum sighed. He wanted nothing more than for the two to finally dispose of the overwhelming tension between them.

“Look, you were jealous seeing me hug her last night, yeah?” Luke nodded, eyes downcast in thought. “Well, mate, I think it’s time you tell her you love her, before somebody else does. She can’t wait around for you forever.”

The words acted as a spark, igniting something inside of Luke, causing him to rush out of the door in just his tracksuit pants, shoes and with his keys in hand. He hadn’t considered changing out of his pajamas, his mind was focused on one thing.

He made his way to Y/N’s house in quick time, mine already made up. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t let his own ignorance get in the way of what Calum helped him realise. He was jealous because he wants her to be his. He was wants to be able to hold her and take away her pain. He wants to feel her lips on his. He wants to tell her the three words that have often been on his lips before.

The minute her front door was in sight, his knuckles were making contact. Three short and fast rasps, alerting her to his presence in the same way he had for the entirety of their friendship.

She pulled the door open with a small smile, her eyes were weary and she looked as if she had nor long woken up.

He didn’t give himself a chance to dispute his actions, his hands made purchase on each side of her face and his lips connected with hers in the most delicate way he knew how, hesitating and waiting for any sign of disapproval.

When it didn’t come, he melted into her touch, feeling her hands rest against his exposed chest.

He pulled back for a second, taking in air. “I should have done that a long time ago. I’m so sorry I’m an idiot.”

Y/N chuckled softly, voice gravelly from sleep and the lack of use, “Yeah, you are an idiot.”

She connected her lips with his again, a short peck. “The best idiot.”

He led her into her house backwards, kicking the door shut with his foot and connecting his lips with hers once again.

Tag List: @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @mantlereid @starshonerose @another-lonely-heart

#luke hemmings #ashton irwin #5sos #calum hood #michael clifford #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings x reader #requested #calum is a bamf best friend

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years

Note

Hi, can you do 1,2,15, and 18?

I sure can! finding a common thread through all of these prompts was a real artistic challenge lol

tom x costar!reader | contains language and a lil razzle dazzle of fluff | word count: 1.1k oops | enjoy!

1. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

2. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

15. “I’ve never felt this way before….and it scares the shit out of me.”

18. “Wait a second, are you jealous?”

At the cast party for your latest movie, you weave through the groupings of socialites to find Tom, but it proves to be a challenge.

“Mr. Holland! Over here! How would you describe your relationship with your costar y/n after being on set with them filming for almost a year?” a reporter tries to shout over the roar of conversation at your coworker-turned-best friend.

“Shit, you’d think these guys would take one night off,” Tom says, feigning surprise that a cast party of this scale would draw the attention of the tabloids and their spies. His best friend Harrison laughs but doesn’t let Tom avoid the question.

“Yeah, mate, how would you define the relationship?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and Tom looks both ways as if crossing a busy street to make sure you’re out of earshot. But you aren’t. Just now coming up on the pair, you hear his friend’s question and quickly take cover, pretending to order a cocktail so you can violate their privacy and listen in.

“Honestly, man, I don’t know. I’m afraid to do anything to fuck up what we have. But god, I’m, like, obsessed with her...” Harrison puts his arm on his friends shoulder.

“Well it’s clear as fuckin’ day you both have some unresolved feelings for each other that maybe you need to stop avoiding,” he says, trying to be supportive, but it just makes Tom nervous.

“But I can never bring it up. When I try to, and she looks at me, I just...my brain gets fuzzy,” he says, forgetting that others may be able to hear his close-to-home sentiments. “I’ve just never felt this way before…and it scares the shit out of me. Plus, all the papers say she’s an item with some guy back in her hometown,” he fails to hide his frown.

Someone trying to get by pushes you into view, blowing your cover. Tom sees you and his face instantly softens. “What’s up, boys? You look lost in thought,” you join the group and try to hide your very recent eavesdrop.

“Nah, just talking about all the celebs who didn’t bring a plus one,” Harrison starts. “Speaking of which, y/n, where’s yours?” Tom shoots daggers at his friend for bringing up such an obvious segue into talking about your relationship status.

“Uh, who would I have brought?” you looked at Tom expectantly, trying to figure out why he hadn’t asked you to go with him when you’d joked about it for months. “It would confuse the shit out of all the press,” Tom would laugh. “Imagine what they’d say if they found out we went together.” He acted like he was kidding, but his acting isn’t as good off script as you’d think.

“Well, what about that guy from back home we’ve heard about?” Harrison continues to pry, and Tom, out of pure nerve, joins in. “Yeah, he’s a townie nobody, the press would eat him up...”

“We’re not even a- wait, why would you two even care?” you see Tom avert his gaze. “Oh my god, wait a second, are you jealous?” you look at Tom, one eyebrow cocked up, smirk forming on your lips. He laughs nervously, trying to deflect the attention away from his increasingly hot cheeks.

“Me? Of that guy? Never,” he laughs again, eliciting an eye roll from you. “Whatever you say, hun,” you respond, leaving to mingle. Tom turns to his friend and socks him in the arm.

“Ouch, fuck!” he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder in pain. “Where’d you learn to throw a punch like that, huh?”

“What the hell, Harrison? I told you we’re still figuring it all out,” he says, head clouded with the vision of you walking away.

“I’m doing you a favor. You need to tell her how you feel and stop being such a schoolgirl about it,” he says, leaving Tom in the dust to go get another drink.

the next morning

You go for a run early, trying to work out the tangle of thoughts in your head about Tom, analyzing and over-analyzing what his every word could possibly mean. Absentmindedly, you run off your regular route over to his apartment, only realizing how your subconscious has betrayed you once you’ve reached his door. You couldn’t take this any longer.

you: hey pal, I’m outside, open up.

The door swings open and Tom appears in the doorway, genuinely happy to see you. “OMG, you’re sweaty,” he exclaims, sizing you up from your workout. He tries to distract himself from how your yoga pants perfectly accentuate your curves, how the sunlight behind you makes you look like a glowing angel...

“Shut it, I ran out of water.” lie. “Can I come in?”

You plop down at his kitchen bartop, nerves building up in your chest. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” you ask, and Tom comes to stand at the counter to face you. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you seemed to take quite an interest in my personal life,” you say, prodding him to start confessing. But no such luck.

“Just making conversation,” he says. He’s building up the courage to just pour out his feelings for you, but the words feel trapped on his tongue. You’re tired and impatient, and you let your endorphins guide you through your next slippery slope. “Hey, those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

“What are you on about?” suddenly catching the hint that you heard his conversation with Harrison the night before.

“Tom, we can’t keep this charade up forever,” you start. “What...what are we doing here?” you look down, desperately trying to hide that your whole world lies on his answer.

He curses under his breath. “I just never stop thinking about you,” he looks down at his hands like there’s something interesting to see. “...but I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” You make your move and boost yourself to sit on the counter, moving him to center himself between your knees. His eyes are wide, confused and full of anticipation. You take a deep breath, and place your hands around his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long to hear that,” you say, finally able to look him in the eyes. You can feel his whole body relax under your touch. “Because I’m pretty sure you are, too.” you fixate on his growing smile.

He pulls you closer, letting his hands rest on your waist. “I’d kiss you if you weren’t so sweaty right now,” he chuckles, and you pull away so he can see your eye roll.

“Well, I’m giving you three seconds to do it anyway.” Tom takes his chance and places the sweetest kiss on your lips, a whole year of waiting for this moment making it taste that much sweeter.

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himbo-buckley · 4 years

Text

Sex, Intimacy and Buddie (better known as I have a lot of feelings about this show, some of which are related to the before mentioned topics) - Part 4

Ciao, ragazzi,

i bims, die Kriz and I will be your tourguide today. (Yes, we’re on first name basis now, congratulations, kid, ya’ll earned it!)

Okay, so I rewrote this intro like 5 times by now. 3B has been so hard on me in a way that the rest hasn’t been. While I was writing 3A I had so many thoughts and ideas and conclusions from the get go, my main worry was to fit it all in and to make it coherent. And it took me a while to get there with 3B - but don’t worry, my friends, I did not disappoint and it is just as long as part 3, despite Tim Minear personally coming to my home and vibe checking me for saying he had daddy issues. Which is fair, tbh. Sorry bro, I’ll stop calling you out like that. (No, I won’t.)

Also if you need a „quick“ refresher of what happened so far or you just forgot, here are:

part one - part two - part three

And also, the usual spiel:

This meta was supposed to be a lot shorter and only talk about how both Buck and Eddie use sex to distract their respective partners from whatever topic they actually wanted to talk about but since I decided to rewatch the show to make sure I don’t miss any such scenes, it has exploded a bit and taken on more topics

I should also mention that I am a Buddie shipper and while I tried, you will find several references and arguments for the ship in this Meta, not all of which necessarily call for a romantic pairing but just: These two are deeply connected and you cannot look at one without discussing the other and they are each other’s strongest emotional connection.

I should also preface this by saying that the whole of the 118 has some obvious intimacy / commitment issues except Bobby (which is sort of surprising) but *John Mulaney voice* we don’t have time to unpack all of that!

On another note I cuss a little in this Meta because my parents let me listen to TicTacToe as a small child and after that it never stuck that cussing is wrong so, uhm, parental supervision is advised or something

This Meta will so far have FIVE parts now. The original plan was to do three, one for each Season, and have it organised by episode so you could technically follow along (which is still true), but due to personal reasons, also known as *feelings*, Season 3 had exploded disproportionately and for readability reasons I have split it in three parts - there is part 3 which ends with the Christmas Episode, part 4 which spans what aired of 3B so far and the final part 5 which will include the final and my conclusion, if by then I am able to form thoughts again / still

Alright you guys, drumrolls please: part 4 (also called „*butterfly meme* Is this growth?“)

Episode 3.11:

I wanna be honest with ya’ll, Season 3B is sort of a mixed bag for me, because while yes, all the episodes have been great viewed separately, they just feel so … separate from each other, and with 3A having so many episode-spanning arks, it’s a bit of a letdown to return to the standalone episode format. Especially because it makes the whole two steps forward one step back thing so much more apparent as it feels like what happens in one episode has no consequence for the next. It felt a little like they burned through too much in 3A already and didn’t know where to go from there. Which is also true for me, so maybe I should stop judging.

Anyways, I’ll stop bringing the house down now.

Let’s continue with: Don’t you just love stan-ing two adorable, complicated badass firefighters? Yeah, me too.

Also, I wanna see the Doc again. Tim, can we? He could be friends with Frank? We could see them have tea and talk about those dumbasses at the firehouse? (And also legs, since, you know, Frank only has one?)

And also the bank guy, Harrison was fun. (This whole episode was.)

And I know it has nothing to do with Eddie or Buck or Intimacy or Sex (okay a little with those) but I do wanna point you to that damn meatball scene, because it’s so chaotic? First, why are all the ingredients laid out on the table but Maddie is making balls already only to then cover them in water? Look, I’m basically vegan (haha, how long do you think I’ve waited to shoehorn this in here) and haven’t cooked meat since I was … fourteen, probably? And even to me that just seemed wrong! Not to mention AFTER touching raw meat, Maddie only cleans her hands with a towel before opening the door? You used to be a nurse, Madeleine / Maddison! (Do we know her full name? I feel like we don’t.)

One thing I really love about 3B (so far) is how happy and settled my main man Edmundo Diaz is. It’s in the eyes, you guys! I don’t know if it’s a Ryan thing or a deliberate acting choice but whatever it is it translates well (haha, well, yeah, we’ll talk about that one later) into his character and it really makes you feel like Eddie is so much better. Like for all the analysis of Eddie I’ve been doing, I didn’t notice how much colder he grew since the beginning of Season 2 until this episode came and suckerpunched me with the warmth in his eyes. Good god, proceed with caution! Oliver could call me right now and say „Look, Buddie isn’t real, I just keep getting lost in Ryan’s eyes.“ and I wouldn’t even be mad, I’d just be like „How’d you get this number?“. (It was Tim, wasn’t it? Damn it, we talked about this, mate! I wanna meet his cat, not him!)

The episode doesn’t hold a lot of relevance in terms of this meta (aside from some parallels I’ll talk about in a moment) but I still want to discuss it a little bit because it means a lot to me. I just love Howard „Chimney“ Han with all my heart.

I wanna say something controversial now because we’re 500 words in and I feel like I haven’t made you regret reading my rambling yet, so here is controversial thought of the day #1: All these fucking characters are grey as fuck except Howie. Howie is good to the bone. He is the goodest boy. He is so gentle and sweet and non malicious and yes, I am including Evan in my list of grey characters because he pulled some SHIT! Okay, a little bit of shit. Things have been *implied*! (I don’t even know anymore. Maybe he’s just off-white or something.)

And what’s the worst my best friend Howard „Chimney“ Han has done on this show? Lied to his girlfriend a buncha times so she likes him better? I lie all the time. I just lied to my mother 5 minutes ago (Yes, Mom, I’m working on my thesis.)! And Howie just lied to make someone like him better. That’s not bad, that’s horrible self esteem!

Which brings me to another thing I wanna say because thank you, Jennifer Love Hewitt. If anyone from the cast gets to call me, it’s you, because you clearly had your thinking pants on when you took one look at Chimney and said: I want that one! You a real one and I will name check you on my way to heaven - not, that they’ll let me in, but the thought counts?

Now, lets talk about those parallels I mentioned before:

The Hans vs. the Buckleys.

Now, we still don’t know a lot about Mr. and Mrs. Buckley and what exactly made them bad parents (though I’m firmly team a little neglectful but not abusive) but we know a lot about Mr. Han.

One thing of the bat I wanna mention is that this episode confirms that Maddie at least had a hand in raising Buck - which doesn’t actually have to mean too much, because based on JLHs age, her relationship with Dough and the way their sibling relationship is played it’s safe to assume that Maddie is supposed to be between 5-10 years older than Buck (assuming she started nursing school after High School at around 18 / 19, which I think takes 4 years in the US? And she was an ER nurse for 8 years, making her AT LEAST 30 in Season 2, but considering how she emphasised that Buck noticed something was wrong with Dough even as a teenager and she met Dough at 19, I’m gonna assume Buck was younger then 16 because Dough won’t have shown his abusive tendencies right of the bat, so probably about 12 / 13, making Maddie like 6 years older than him? And since we DO have a definite age for Evan, Maddie is probably around 33 in Season 2 (which also works because they wanted to put her and Eddie in a relationship and Ryan Guzman is in his early 30 as well). And look, as the youngest child of two people I would call more than adequate parents I can tell you: older siblings always have a hand in raising you, especially when the age difference exceeds 4 years. One of my sisters is 5 years older than me and I was more scared of telling her about having a bad grade than I was of my parents, so…

Anyways, back to what is actually happening in the episode and how it both parallels and contrasts the Buckleys and Hans.

Like Maddie and Howie are the older siblings and Buck and Albert are the younger siblings, yet Buck and Howie are paralleled as are Maddie and Albert. Also, Howie resents his brother for the relationship he assumes Albert has with their father, but Maddie recognises that Buck probably had similar experiences growing up as she did. Of course one could argue that Howie and Albert never had a relationship before while Buck and Maddie grew up together, but look, Maddie was in an abusive relationship for quite a while and hadn’t been in contact with her brother for 3 years prior to Season 2 but it’s safe to assume they didn’t have too close of a relationship before that either, or the Buck we know would have gone to Maddie to investigate and find out why she dipped. So…

(Despite all of this, Maddie knew she could come to her brother for help in Season 2 meaning one, our boy is such a good boy always and the Buckleys can’t be all bad if Maddie knows she can count on her brother, meaning she didn’t think her parents screwed him up too much in the time since she moved out and gradually left his life. Just another thought.)

I also love how her firm believe in the strength and meaning of familial relationships triggers a shift in Howie. Please keep this in mind for when we discuss 3.16 in a few minutes, friends.

Also that kitchen scene has all my heart. They really said kitchens are a Buddie thing now, didn’t they? (Also from a non shipper perspective, Maddie and Buck are just the sweetest and for a TV show actually fairly realistic siblings. At least if I compare them to my siblings and I.)

Also in terms of the actually topic of my meta’s: this is our first indicator that Eddie considers the 118 his family. And we have another moment of Chimney seeking reassurance / being open with Eddie. I love that they have a friendship like that. (He was so excited about meeting Chimneys brother as well. A little bit puppy and like another reason why Evan and him are friends. (As if we need more)) Also love that Eddie is secure enough to voice these feelings!

(Eddie really does seem so healed in this episode? So open? And happy? Damn, Frank, you know your shit! My man had some growth.)

Now, for some sidenotes to round off this episode, because I have some and I wanna share them:

On the Buckley parents, I think the episode wants to imply that they had plans for Buck? Maybe career wise? Because in the pool scene he says something along the lines of: „Sometimes you have to put / get a little distance“ and since it’s been implied that Buck is also from Pennsylvania or somewhere close by, we can assume that he was talking about himself here. Like he moved all the way across the continent.

I’m also just gonna throw out a prediction for Season 4: since Nia is only a foster child and like 2 years old, it’s safe to assume that she has been only recently taken in. While I do not know the US-Foster system, I do have some knowledge about the German system, so I’ll just predict that either one or both of the birth parents try to get their child back.

Or they just sort of forget about all of this by Season 4.

And I really really really dislike the cancer storyline and how the show is handling it, at least in this episode, specifically in regards to May, who in my opinion, has been both written and treated by the show as someone younger than 18 here, only for the show to then turn around and go all: wow, such an adult, look how wise she is. So awesome. Like nah, son! 3A has shown that she is much maturer than she was treated in this episode.

And Eddie finally got to say „seen this before“ again. I feel like he says that a lot. Should I start a counter for that too or do ya’ll just wanna think about him naked for a bit? (I know, you guys, I know! Should I befriend someone who can make me a bunch of gifs of shirtless Eddie I can pepper in every time we get to heavy around here?)

Episode 3.12:

Ah, yes, „Fools“! The one episode I have to say I can not look at without wearing my shipper goggles. So be warned.

Which is why I’m gonna start with the elephant in the room: Ana Flores.

Now, I’ve seen (and maybe liked / reblogged / queued / drafted (Idk anymore, I’m up to 600 posts in my drafts, 300 in my queue and like 300 liked / reblogged already)) an interview with Ryan Guzman where he talks about Ana and how he isn’t sure yet wether they are heading for romance and how it needs someone incredibly badass to get through Eddie’s defences, because Eddie is barely over his wife’s death and yeah, that! Look, if you’re here, I’m gonna assume you have read the other three parts of this „meta“ and therefore know that I am a proud member of the Shannon Diaz - defense squad and will fight anyone who says a bad word about her. And you will also know that I attribute most of the stupid things Eddie did in 3A to the fact that Shannon died. So there. All caught up.

Now, as for Ana Flores herself (and I’m writing this after 3.16, so who knows what happens next): She might be in Season 4 (I think the interview said something about it or she tweeted something) but I don’t think it has been confirmed yet? So considering what Ryan said they probably won’t end up in a relationship by the end of Season 3 (again, please remember when I am writing this).

I’m not gonna comment on the actress aside from saying, damn, I wish that were me! Other than that? I don’t really care about actors unless I think they are hot and then it’s more of a: uiiii, me like-y. (Madeleine Patch, call me!)

As for the actual scenes, well, I have mixed feelings.

On the one hand side, as I’ve said before, I work with children and the idea of dating the father of one of my babies is just plain wrong to me. So there is that. Morally speaking that storyline would be trash. (And very OOC for Mr. „My son needs to be protected above all“)

Then of course there is what’s actually happening between them which, one, from the get go she seems to not reciprocate Eddie’s advances (he keeps telling her to call him Eddie, she keeps calling him Mr. Diaz). Also that whole speech about horses? Yeah, I know you’re an english teacher but ähm, what? (Put it on the list, Tim, I need answers!)

To sum it up (and explain why I brought up Shannon aside from how much I like her), I don’t think it’s headed for a romance quite yet? They may be playing the slowburn game, but I think it was more like Ali in Season 2. Because as @greyhello pointed out to me in Part 2, Ali might have been there to show us that Buck was ready for a commited relationship and it had never been Abby that made him like that, just as Ana is here to tell us: hey, Eddie is finally accepting his wife’s death and maybe, possibly, some time in the near future, ready to date again. Probably. We’ll see.

Aside from that, I actually think a little crush could be something healthy and healing for Mr. control issues. But, again, we’ll see.

So, elephant addressed. Now let’s move on.

Sidenote: I feel like the parent-teacher conference made Eddie really regret so many of his life decisions. Someone needs to tell Buck so he can make a million puns from here on out and drive Eddie crazy.

(Sidenote: Carla said „big blue eyes“! You know who has big blue eyes? Ah, now I’m just clowning.)

Now this episode returns to the Season 2 formula of giving Eddie and Buck similar storylines:

Because while Eddie meets someone he could potentially be interested it, Buck is also made aware of his single status and the fact that he hasn’t dated in a while.

I do think Buck’s stance in this episode was both curious and familiar. Familiar because it reminded me a lot of Eddie in 2.04 and I think, just like Eddie did before Shannon came back, right then Buck is closing himself off from making connections, be they physical or emotional, because he got hurt too much.

Which is why I call it curious. Because I can not decide wether I consider his behaviour growth or a step back. In Eddie it would definitely be a step back, but in Buck who had been so willing to take any chance for physical intimacy just for the sake of a connection in Season 1 to now at least seem somewhat settled in himself and comfortable with what he has does feel a little like growth? (Then again 3.16 shows us he is just scared of getting hurt again, so probably just covering up is depression.)

Also, again with the kitchen! That puts us at five (?) scenes of Buddie talking about each other or with each other in a kitchen setting (six, if you count 3.03). Now I’m probably clowning myself real hard right now, but whatever!

But I do wanna point out how comfortable Eddie and Buck are discussing Eddie’s parenting struggles, which just shows how much he trusts him.

Now I know, I myself have made a textpost about Eddie discussing his parenting struggles with literally anyone, but ya’ll know I was kidding, right? It isn’t actually true. In canon he talks with exactly 5 people about Christopher:

They are Christopher’s therapist in „Triggers“, Carla, Hen, Lena … and Buck.

Now, here comes something interesting: For Carla and therapist, it is literally their job to help Eddie with his parenting struggles, but all the other scenes? Connected to Buck. Yeah. That.

Look, the Hen scene in the Christmas episode literally involves Buck and as I’ve said both Eddie’s and Buck’s reaction here heavily implied that Eddie has had a conversation with Buck about his fight with Chris before telling Hen all about it.

As for Lena, again, she is *literally* there as a substitute for Buck. She uses his locker. Her name is taped over his - and that is actually such a nice visual, that I wanna talk about it real quick, because I’ve seen it called disrespectful a few times and I don’t agree.

One, the fact that they left the „B“: funny af, someone from set dressing is probably laughing themselves silly about this and is allowed to call me now; also a constant reminder who’s locker and place she is actually occupying. Also how she can never really fully replace him, she can’t cover the hole he left fully, he is always there, lurking.

Two, the fact that it is tape: tape is slightly see through. It is temporary and easily removed. Tape is just a quick, momentary fix. Tape can be taken off / away without effort.

So to sum it up: There’s no one he trusts more with his son.

Which is also why Buck is there at the end: because Buck is who Eddie trusts. Buck is who Eddie goes to when he’s struggling as a father. Buck is who Eddie wants by his side cheering Chris on. I mean, they are literally pushing him together while Carla films (stands on the sidelines, ready to help as needed, but not fully a part of their family unit).

So, to go back to the elephant in the room? Right now I’m not at all worried about Ana Flores.

On another note it’s also one of the last real Buddie scenes we got in 3B so far and while I do understand that there just wasn’t any storyline for them to do such a scene organically, I am very worried about what it could mean. Because I still remember when Teen Wolf stopped putting Tyler H and Dylan in scenes together because people kept screaming queerbaiting.

I don’t want that to happen here. I love Buddie and what it could represent but I’ve also written too much about their respective characters AND their connection by now to disregard how meaningful they ALREADY are and how important even as a platonic pairing they are. Because they make each other so much better and proof that straight man can have deep connection with each other and how two flawed people can help each other heal in a way that I don’t think any other relationship in this show shows.

Back to the episode, though. The ark between Christopher and Eddie here is truly beautiful and I love the way we see Eddie growing as a parent. And I think the show wrote those scenes so well and they felt truly natural and were incredibly important, both for Eddie and Christopher.

I do think, as much as I love Christopher always being Eddie’s number one priority, no matter who Eddie ends up dating (yes, even if he dates Buck) we need to see a bit of a shift here. (Also, just in general, because Christopher will grow up, even if he’ll never be as independent as a fully abled bodied child might someday be.)

Eddie needs to learn to let go of control and of Christopher a bit. Look, a partner will never come before Christopher for Eddie (unless Chris is like in his 40s and has moved out and is living his own life. And even then it’ll be close.) but in order for anyone to ever fit into his life he needs to make a little space at the top and that includes taking away a bit from Christopher.

(Also just selfcare reasons, you guys, parents need to learn that it’s okay to sometimes think about themselves! And we already saw Eddie break once cause it became too much, how easy do you think that can happen again?)

Sidenote: We all know Buck built that, right? He’s been shown again and again to have some mechanical / maschinary (?) understanding plus fairly interesting problem solving skills.

Episode 3.13:

I love the locker room scene. Firstly, it’s a definite reminder that these three have bonded a lot and it’s such a sweet familial scene.

Also Eddie’s advice: yet another hint that he’s healing from Shannon’s death.

Compare it 3.08 and the conversation Bobby had with Eddie. There are no definite callbacks or anything like it, but it is very very very obvious that Eddie is talking about his dead wife here. Who he told he loves her in her last moments. So there.

Now, as for the healing part, could you imagine 3A!Eddie saying something like that to anyone?

Even in 3.03 or 3.06 with Buck, the person he lets himself be the most vulnerable with, there are still always terms and conditions with his words.

He trust no one more with his son, which, okay, is what the scene was about and what has the highest priority in his life but still, his trust isn’t bound to himself, it’s bound to his son, not to himself, not something he has in general for Buck, but something he has for Buck in regards to his son - that Eddie trusts Buck with himself is only ever implied.

He forgives him - „also what it means to be a part of a team“. Eddie sort of impersonalises his forgiveness here, he doesn’t forgive him because he’s Buck and he’s Eddie, he forgives him because they are part of the same team.

With Eddie there is always a wall.

But here in the locker room there isn’t. It’s just: if you love her, tell her, cause you might not get another chance - Eddie certainly doesn’t have another chance to tell Shannon.

And okay, you might say, isn’t that kind of a condition as well? Saying ‚I love you‘ because tomorrow isn’t promised? And sure, it kind of is. But Eddie’s also basically saying: once upon a time I told my wife, who art now in heaven, that I loved her as she was dying and then I got real mad at her and the world after because she left me and she was planning to leave me anyways and now I’m here and I’m over that and I’m just glad I got to tell her ‚I love her‘ one last time. I’m no longer angry.

Growth, you guys.

Episode 3.14:

I feel like the writers read some of ya’ll’s Buddie fanfiction, realised how it mischaracterised the relationship between Buck and Chimney gets and said: not on my watch!

In other words: If Eddie and Buck are different sides of the same coin, Buck and Chimney are the same sides of different coins. They share so many traits and experiences!

Now, this episode. Man, you guys, it really has me stumped. Part of me thinks it doesn’t have relevance and part of me keeps going back because it thinks it does?

Oh man, you guys, I’m lost. I don’t know.

All right, executive decision: no relevance, just another drop on the breakdown-stone that is 3.16.

Someone please tell my man’s boy they need him!

Episode 3.15:

Fun fact to start ya’ll off: this was only the second episode I watched somewhat live being a little new to town and the first I saw without spoiling myself on tumblr. So it has a special place in my heart any way you look at it.

(But then again this episode also involves several of my nightmares: drowning! being below earth! Being in small enclosed spaces! Being buried alive! Huge amounts of mud that will not leave your clothes and fingernails for the next six hundred years!)

Also, uhm, did I say „Fools“ was the *one* episode I could not look at without shipper goggles? So I’m contradicting myself. It happens. Move on. (Yeah, or repress it and join a fight club! Also name check me with your therapist, please! We may have breakdowns but we do them healthy around here!)

Because these fuckers went off! Whew! I’m serious, after watching the episode I sent a clip of that scene to my roommate and asked to rate how platonic this was. Which she did not. Because she doesn’t know math, apparently. - My point is, she sees it and she doesn’t know the show.

In other news this episode convinced me Oliver is pulling an Andrew Robinson (and yes, I know he said it was in the script but then Andy also followed the script, so…).

Sidenote: Eddie is the oldest, right? Damn, for some reason I thought he was the middle child. He has big middle child energy.

(Also why they namedrop Galveston like that? I googled it an it’s just a town? Why, Tim, why?) (At this point he is just torturing me, I know it. This feels personal.)

Anyways, this episode, you guys! I have thoughts! (And they are very hard to put in order so please excuse any jumping around at this point.)

The birthscene is great and can we just for a moment think about 25 year old Eddie hugging his mother in law so very lovingly? He’s so happy here. So soft. (Also I’m about to turn 25? I would not be able to deal with being married right now either?)

And yes, this episode confirms that Eddie has killed people, and while I know it was selfdefense, I just, it’s very weird to me because these characters have become so real to me, so to see one of them kill without a care is kinda off-putting. (This is why I will always consider Eddie grey and why I can never consider Buck white - because he had been planning on joining the Seals meaning he had to consider the possibility of killing and has probably learned to kill (Do you think that’s why he’s so non aggressive? because he knows he could take everyone down?))

I’m just gonna come out and say it: anyone who says Eddie isn’t impulsive has not watched this show. In fact I’d even say he is more impulsive than Buck.

Yes, Buck will do weird and dumb shit on a whim because the thought just crossed his mind and it sounds good and he doesn’t think about the consequences, but just does it. (I could make a case that our boy has ADHD but this is not what this meta is about)

But Eddie? Eddie is impulsive in his reactions. Everytime he is in distress (emotional not physical) he stops thinking about consequences and just starts reacting. Especially if it’s about a child!

Shannon is pregnant - lets sign up for the army.

Our child has a developmental disorder - lets stay in the army.

My parents want to take away my child - lets move halfway across the country.

(Not allowed to talk to your best friend? - lets go streetfighting.)

Eddie probably thinks these things through to a point and he mostly has a plan, but he is so reactionary. He is like a raw nerve and that’s what makes him impulsive.

It’s why, instead of letting them pull him out enough until he can radio, Eddie cuts the fucking line. Because this is a child, this could be Christopher and Eddie needs to be enough to save him.

(Are you crying yet?)

I’m not gonna talk about Afghanistan except to say: ah, Eddie. My man, you are enough! Always!

(But maybe that was his guilt over killing talking? Maybe he does feel bad?)

Also why did the woman emphasis ‚Staff Sergeant‘ like that? Was that an indicator that Eddie got promoted?

Also Eddie the fucking boy scout / alter boy / goody goody two shoes trying to get up because of a superior office despite lying in a hospital bed (and not even having been cleaned from his blood yet, urgh that’s gotta itch!)

Sidenote: in light of 3.16: do you think Eddie still talks to Mills, Binder, Norwahl and what all their names are or do you think that would be too hard for him? I’m leaning toward not talking but I really liked Mills (she reminded me of Buck and Lena, tbh.)

And now, for our regular scheduled program: Shannon and Eddie.

First of all I loved all of it. I loved that we could really understand why Shannon left. I love how much they clashed but still had those little moments of recognition.

And look: The juice box scene was very rough. Eddie is likely currently suffering from PTSD, definitely having a culture shock and here is his wife who is barely holding on as well and she just wants to leave, she can’t deal anymore and both of them are so desperate and wow, just wow. Kudos Ryan and kudos Devin Kelley, I’m sad we won’t see you again, but I do hope I’ll see you somewhere else one of these days!

I’ve talked about their relationship a lot already, so I’m not sure if I have any fresh takes but I will remind you of a few you already know:

Eddie is not in love with Shannon after Afghanistan (haven’t decided yet if he was in love with her in the birth scene)

Shannon *needed* Eddie to open up to her just as much as she needed to be open with her

Eddie was not able to be emotionally intimate with his wife

they cared about each other very very much and I do think they tried

they are family (remember what I said in part 2 about Eddie talking to the 118 about Shannon? This here proof that he definitely defended her actions at some point to them as well)

Shannon was in an impossible situation with her mother and a special needs child and likely burned out and just … she needed someone to have her back, which Eddie couldn’t because he himself was suffering from PTSD at that point

I’m still mad as fuck, they killed her off! If they give Eddie any other endgame romance that isn’t Buddie without like two seasons buildup after killing off HIS WIFE I will riot!

Which brings me to Eddie and his parents which was rough, you guys!

Look, as someone who worked with children I can see where his parents are coming from in that scene but also wow, just wow.

How cold and insensitive and fuck, no wonder someone is repressed as shit, that was horrifying and I really can’t talk about this more than to say this hurts and also explains too much about Eddie. (Can we have the locker room three bonding about having horrible parents in Season 4, please, Tim? And can Buck come too? We could do it at the loft?)

As for his conversation with Christopher, obviously it was cute as fuck and also I love how he began the conversation talking to his child like every adult male I have ever met talking to a kid about something he knows will go over it’s head („It’s like we’re talking about completely different people.“). (Okay, maybe not just adult males. Maybe we all talk like that around children sometimes. I know I do.)

I really liked how they reinforced once again that Eddie wasn’t a natural at being a dad (compare how he holds his son to season 1 Buck who most definitely knows how to handle a child (And now I’m wondering if him being good at it was always planned or a „Oliver did a great job the first time we had him interact with a child so we decided to make it a trait“-thing. Damn you, Tim, for making me think so much!)) but became good at it because he was willing to learn and he cared! Dads of the world (also Moms, we aren’t all super duper either) take note!

That being said the conversation also left a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth because, one, it felt a little petulant of Eddie to turn around and leave for LA, the way it was presented here and two, Christopher at that point didn’t understand yet what Eddie was actually asking him about and it felt a bit like manipulation. Please everyone, do not consider a conversation like that consent from a child. Any adult can get a child that age to say anything they want because children just want to be liked (It’s why when children are involved in criminal proceedings it’s so hard to interview them because children follow every suggestion because they think this is what the adults want them to say.).

Now, let’s talk about puppy!boy for a second!

In 1.05 Buck tells Abby: „no one is good when it’s personal“ - well guess what buddy boys, this one is very personal for one Evan ‚Buck’ Buckley, thank you very much, that boy is losing it.

Okay, let’s compare it to the episode before and then two episodes later:

Now, obviously the situation with Maddie was a little different. Mainly because this was a hostage situation and he realised (because Seal training, remember?) that there wasn’t a lot he could do to help her right then but then again … neither was there in Season 2 when Maddie was in danger and he still acted far more frantic in the car with Athena than he did here? Like the only stupid thing he did was drive a little dangerously this time?

And of course, two episodes later we see Bobby react when Athena is in danger and while we don’t see him be frantic we do see him get ready to kill someone, so, yeah!  It could of course be inconsistent writing or deliberate to keep the attention and worry more on the people in the call centre but since they haven’t pulled anything like that before I’m leaning more into my clowning.

I mean, we also have to consider that Buck was Eddie’s lifeline here, he was supposed to be the one to get him out, so he feels extra responsible but then again we have Hen make this comment about having two cut lines, which of course says that Hen thinks that one: whatever reason Eddie had to cut his line will definitely be considered a just as valid reason by Buck to cut his line but also: BUCK WOULD DECIDE TO DIE DOWN THERE WITH EDDIE. Sorry for the yelling, but no, I do not think Buck acted out of character in 3.14.

(Which is very irresponsible, you guys. You are fathers! What happens to Christopher when ya’ll die in a well somewhere in fictional California? I can not live in fictional California! I will not be taking care of your child, Buddie! Figure it out yourself! No. We are done here! This conversation is over!)

(Okay, not quite, because I actually don’t think that would be realistic! More realistic: Buck giving Eddie his harness so he can get pulled out first and then dying down there alone.)

Like I’ve said in the at the beginning: Oliver might be pulling an Andrew Robinson. It might have just been the way they thought Buck would act if he lost Eddie while being responsible. It might have been fever making him delirious (which, btw, kudos! Because you can hear how sore his throat was and omg, that shirt hurt!)

Never mind I found the heavy focus on Buck in an episode about Eddie fairly curious - which is why now it’s video-talk time!

First: I will not bear Shannon slander around here! Yes, she was in way less scenes than Buck, but the actress also was never a main character, so ya’ll need to remember there are like 2 scenes of them as a family. And they probably didn’t have the time, money and energy to film some just for a montage - especially considering that the three of them have hardly been a family together, because first Eddie was gone and then Shannon, so…

But yes, we do have to admit that Buck was in most scenes, and yes, we do have to consider the implications of this which are: Buck is definitely a vital member of the Diaz family and when Eddie says: I’m always gonna come home to my family, this now includes Buck and I hope we see him tell him that at one point in the final cause I need him to!

And then of course there is also the radio scene in the beginning (which lead to one of my proudest tumblr-moments to date in form of this post!) which did ease us into the concept of Bucky-boy being a member of the Diaz family! So it is canon now?!

One thing I wanna point out about the school scene in the end in regards to this is that little boy’s question. Sure they used it as transition to calling Christopher his good luck charm but, uhm, why did they have Buck ask about it in the beginning then? Why have this sort of unnecessary callback to the beginning of the episode unless they want us to remember Buck?

Something to ponder for the next week, I think.

Also the episode sort of reinforced my believe that we don’t really have to worry about Ana Flores. Sure, this scene was also a chance for Eddie to redeem himself in front of a teacher he screamed at just a few weeks prior but the only interaction they had was her asking that question at the end and Eddie hardly looked at her.

(Also, if they really wanted to reinforce Eddie being interested in her, they could have had Carla make a dig about it in the beginning, even with Christopher there, but they didn’t, which to me confirms that they don’t really know what to do with her yet.)

At least Ryan was finally taking his shirt off again, I know that’s like catnip for ya’ll.

Episode 3.16:

One thing that really confuses me is how many people seem to think this episode points out only how important romantic relationship are and I don’t see that?

I mean, I see that it’s one of the points that is being made but I don’t think it’s the only possible reading of this episode.

To me it was about connection and family more than anything.

It begins actually with Eddie (the person most connected to Buck) being the first person to decline Buck’s invite, not in favour of spending time with a romantic partner, but because he has a prior commitment with his son! (And several other people, including, but not limited to, at least 2 other nine year olds. For Eddies sake I hope less than 5 or that Carla is around because he is a single father and children unionise by nature.)

And it continues with Buck by forming a connection to Red and then bonding with Maddie.

And can I just say, before we delve more into all of this, how proud I am of Evan „Buck“ Buckley after this episode? Just look at him!

This is Buck at his lowest, lower even than during the lawsuit, because back then he had something to fight against, which he doesn’t have here. Because he can’t stop other people from leaving him (that is the whole point of the episode after all) and what does he do? Instead of going full on Buck 1.0 and just finding the nearest interested person to form a meaningless physical connection with to substitute for the lacking emotional intimacy he craves so much, he goes to a bar alone and befriends an old man. And spends the rest of the episode bonding with him. And bonding with his sister. And addressing his issues, both with his sister and his family. That is huge!

(Which is why I’ve decided him not wanting to date? Symptom of his deeper issues, yes, but also a sign of growth.)

And I’ve seen some people on my dash talk about how, compared to most other 911 episodes, this episode has a fairly bleak ending, which one I agree with, two think is actually a theme with Buck centric episodes, but three don’t actually mind / think is a bad thing? It’s fairly realistic after all.

To get personal one second: I remember being a very idealistic 20-year old intern working in the foster system five years ago and my mentor, who was less than 10 years older than me but fairly badass teaching me something that technically is a well known proverb but that I, a idealistic 20-year old, had not actually understood until I worked there and saw it myself: manchmal muss man den Karren an die Wand fahren - translation: sometimes you have to let the trolley drive into the wall, which means sometimes you have to let things play out till it’s natural end before you can help. Or to use an english proverb: Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom.

And this is what I’m thinking - no, hoping - is happening here. Because, look, you don’t just solve like 20 or more years of abandonment issues in one episode and considering what a big part of Buck’s character from the moment we met him they have been, that would have been unsatisfying to watch anyways! What we need right now, in terms of Buck’s storyline is catharsis. A cleansing. Buck needs to get to his worst (which I think he did or he will, once he talks to Abby) before he can begin to get better, can begin to heal, can begin to learn that he is not alone. And that is not a bad thing!

And yes, I know our boy is suffering and we along with him because we all love Evan Buckley to death but sometimes you gotta let things break so you can fix them instead of just putting tapes over the holes you see (haha, see what I did there?).

As for the episode, here we go:

I wanna start with something else real quick which is Hen’s subplot which I found important. Because they addressed that hey, she went through a trauma not to long ago as well and maybe she is not as okay with it as we thought?

Also it shows Bobby’s double standard again, but then I think he would have reacted differently if the guy had died and it was evident Hen realised she should never pull a stunt like that again. And maybe I’m giving Bobby a bit to much credit right now. Urgh.

I do wanna say, while Chimney seemed fine at the end with what went down we did see his reaction in the next episode and honestly he is mad, it’s just that Hen is his best friend and Chimney lives on the principle of forgive and forget so there.

Now I do really like the rope rescue scene because it was badass and also because Eddie seems so done in the beginning and Bobby just looks at him like: well, he’s not doing it alone and he’s probably not gonna cut his rope!

(Also notice how Eddie cut his rope willingly but Buck’s was cut for him? What does that mean? - For reals, I may see the connection but I can’t yet make out the meaning.)

But I did appreciate Hen’s comments about them being their best guys a lot! I kind of want an episode like they used to do on Star Trek were they focus on background characters and give us the way everyone probably sees Buddie as some kind of superhuman supermen who pull the craziest stunts and somehow make it! And now, let’s get into Evan!

First of, I now Cindy was meant as a parallel to Abby but I also think to Ali because Abby didn’t leave because she couldn’t handle the fear but Ali did. So there, a sort of Ali Martin mention! Thanks for listening, Tim.

But of course with everything else Cindy is quite the parallel to Abby from the way she just left and Red never really got closure, just like Buck.

What is interesting though is that Red, different to Buck, doesn’t want closure. He wants to remember the good times and imagine what could have been. (This could of course be due to the fact that his life is about to end.)

Buck on the other hand side really craves closure, and look, I know when we first learned she is definitely coming back I was really unhappy about that, but since then we learned they run into each other which makes it fine to me. Because I thought we’d have another instance of Buck running after Abby for validation and I did not want that. But he’s not actually running after her, it’s just a coincidence so I’m happy for him getting a chance to have closure, finally.

And this is were I think the episode proofs that it’s not about romantic love as the only way to be fulfilled, first because after talking about Abby Buck asks „Do you think I’m lonely?“ which is not about romance at all (had they wanted to make it about love it would have been: „Do you think I’ll find love again?“ or something). Also the conclusion of this episode is Maddie telling Buck he is different to Red because he has her (and in general those scenes between them, yes, they were also about Abby because she was another person Buck has been left by but just like they mention a best friend in terms of people Maddie left behind it is not about the romantic aspect, it is about people he loves in general), because he has a sister and she won’t leave him again - so there, familial love! The pinky swear! The importance of family. (see 3.11)

Also had it really been about love you know what would have happened since then? We’d have seen Buck calling Abby! Maddie would have said something about Buck still being young and having time to meet someone! Instead Abby and Buck run into each other by accident and Maddie makes a pinky swear to never leave again, so yeah, I just think sometimes we need to wait for how stuff plays out before we judge.

Now of course I wanna mention the pool scene as well.

Firstly, I know we already traced a lot of what Buck says at the end back to Eddie and the grocery store but did ya’ll here Chimney say: „Seems like your making this about yourself“ and Bobby implying the same thing, so yeah, I wonder if it was them quoting Eddie or if this is what everyone is supposed to be thinking or if it was just a setup for the breakdown at the end.

Also let’s talk about Eddie real quick here, because I found it really weird that they didn’t reference his platoon from Afghanistan here? Like they could have easily have him say „I’m not in the army anymore but I still talk to my old platoon.“, especially since we MET them one episode before. So either they didn’t think of that, they wanted to reinforce the fear Buck has or Eddie may just be as lonely as Buck?

(Guess which way I’m leaning?)

(Look, children are great but they are no substitute for friends and adult conversation, just saying!)

But I love how hard Mr. Stoic and emotionally unavailable tries to reassure Buck, tries to be there for him. And also did ya’ll notice how, once Eddie speaks for the first time Buck’s focus never strays from him. Hen and Chimney and Bobby talk as well but it seems as if Buck never looked away from Eddie. (Which, definitely get that, he looked good here.) Also how Buck stresses the “That better not happen to us“ - man, what conversation could he be referencing? Man, I wish I had memorised this show by now so I could tell you about two scenes that happened in 3A between Buddie where the topic of us was emphasised a lot but alas I don’t and I can’t.

What the pool scene also proofs once more is that the 118 just like an actual family has a lot of communication issues because Hen and Chimney not being in contact with Tommy or so is a completely different situation but because of their bad communication they don’t realise that this is something they need to explain to Buck because they think this is about Red.

Bobby doesn’t get it either tbh.

But we all know who does, look, I said it about 3.03 and I’ll say it now: Eddie knows Buck. Eddie understands Buck. And Eddie is on the path of realising that Buck needs him to say the actual words and not just let his actions speak! And my my if all of this pays off I will be one happy camper! (Hums Rihanna “We found love in a hopeless place”)

On a sidenote I hate that Red pegged Buck as a hothead because he really really isn’t! He’s just excitable and sometimes struggles with expressing himself and that frustrates him!

Also I never noticed the apartment had an outside area? did we know this? There is a grill?

Also really would love to see Gigi / Dana Strattford again, I liked her, she’s pretty! (But not like to date one of my guys, Tim, kay?)

(Also whats Officer Williams up to these days? Asking for … a friend?)

And to round this episode up: Oliver still looked so sick at times and they put a lot more makeup on him than they normally do? Usually you can see the slight scaring on his face but this episode you couldn’t but you could see the tears / snot mixing with all the makeup when he was crying and honestly, not his best look! (He still makes it work, though! Just saying, I miss 1.02 / 3.02 / 3.03 Buck, I know these episodes hurt but visually they are peak!)

Episode 3.17:

Was that episode amazing? Yes.

Am I still cackling about Oliver Stark having too much leg? Yes.

Did I love the Frank mention with all my heart? Yes.

Was Michael’s meet cute in an elevator less gay than any Buddie scene we got so far specifically any in 2.01 also known as their meet-ugly? That was a rhetorical question, you guys.

As for that comment I wouldn’t put too much stock into it. I mean, if you’re a single guy and you get invited out to fifth wheel at a double date with your sister and her boyfriend and his best friend and her wife, no matter how close you are, you will feel awkward so of course you invite the other single guy who happens to be your best friend who happens to be part of the friendgroup AND the team you’re working with making this a definite team/family/work - outing.

That being said: it took me 23h to come up with a reasonable explanation for this comment and I did scream at my laptop and pause the episode after it was made and I have been thinking “Buddie” confirmed about 100 times since then!

Also, they just spent a shit ton of time together, right? Like, if Buck’s there than so is Eddie and if Eddie is there than so is Buck and I’m clowning and not calm anymore!

Maybe “Buck invites Eddie” can be our always?

In other news this episode has absolutely no relevance for anything, but I love it deeply.

And we made it you guys! It was slower going but it worked!

Thank you to everyone who read so far and thank you to everyone who has been liking and reblogging and commenting! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express how much this means to me!

(Also please keep doing that! I too am an excitable puppy looking for validation!)

Now, to tag:

@angelcamael, @greyhello, @ipleiade, @the-family-we-choose-118 @chimbuckleys @sevensoulmates

#buddie meta #buck meta #eddie meta #911 meta #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 #911 fox #season 3 #textpost #mine #meta #buck #my meta

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