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#HOWEVER. regardless of how they like to present themselves. the Rose are. Not That.
tmae3114 · 10 months
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currently Many Thoughts, Head Full about the Guardian Tower dialogues re: the Rose
something something the Rose as an organisation views itself as the only solution to their view of the problem something something the way they actively drive out competition fundamentally undercuts their ostensible goal of “protecting people” and reveals that their anti-magic attitude takes precedence (nobody is surprised) something something the Rose have been repeatedly picking fights with Falconreach’s guardian patrols and thus testing Falconreach’s defences something something is it any wonder that these people showing up and offering to help rebuild the town post-Calamity almost incited a riot?
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cursedcola · 3 months
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia( pt.1 Here!)(pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. So much that I exceeded the character limit and need to post Diasomnia in 2 parts. I have favorites I guess :/
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Malleus experienced more firsts over the course of three years than the duration of his life. His first board game session, his first group trip with peers, his first taste of carnival food, his first sleepover, his first true friend - so, so many firsts. All a byproduct of one person walking into his life and taking a genuine interest in him.
You were the first houseguest he personally invited over to Diasomnia. Not for a tour, not for business, not on behalf of another - no. You were Malleus' houseguest, there to visit Malleus and spend time with Malleus. The snacks prepared were for you both to share. The lounge seating reserved for your company. His first time hosting for fun.
You were the first person he ever got a present for outside of his family. How quick your birthday had come, and how startled he became to find he cared. You were older. Growing so quick and changing at an alarming pace. He could see it in your features and mannerisms. Malleus knew that humans aged at a much faster rate than fae. Silver sprouted like a beanstalk. Yet you were blossoming like a flower in spring. How long until you'd wither?
Malleus cared. Not out of curiosity, but something deeper. Malleus did not want a servant to pick your gift, not even his closest companions. He desired to adhere to human custom and do the task himself. He did not trust another to pick something meaningful and to your preference.
You were the first to make him laugh. Your humor being like none he had heard before. Others tend to correct themselves in Malleus' presence, or try to cater to 'his' taste. Even those closest to him, often sharing a joke that flies over his head without any explanation. You did no such thing. Your humor was curious, and perhaps a bit crude. The jokes did fail to land with him, but he still found them funny regardless.
You were the first to make him yearn. Malleus had felt loneliness before. He's been bound in it's searing clutches and taunted. Yet his rooted longing never compelled him to change. He never felt jealous. Until your smile became another's and he felt a hot pit in his stomach. One different than his fiery magic.
You were his first desire.
Malleus fumbled and panicked. He had finally found a friend, yet he wanted more. The realization striking him deep. The first want he had no guarantee of obtaining. Yet his need for you was strong. He could not lose you. Malleus begun to value your presence. Your joy. The new life you breathed into him. He held it as dear as his family. You became his fondest treasure.
Malleus needed to ensure that you would never be taken from him. That you would never change.
You were also his first failure. On the dawn of your second year and his graduation, Malleus proposed. He had forgone all customs and jumped straight to marriage. Love to the fae was a lifetime bond. No power could chain you to him stronger than matrimony. Which is why he demanded your presence in the gardens after the ending ceremony. He decorated according to your tastes, with colorful lanterns and firefly lights strewn across the plants.
He saw the hope in your eyes. The way they sparkled with affection and pride bloomed knowing that he was the cause.
“Malleus….It’s so beautiful. Did you prepare this just for me?” You ask, clutching your hands to your chest. He smiles, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a black velvet box in the shape of a rose.
“I’m happy to see you like it; however, I hope this offering pleases you more”
Malleus opens the box to reveal a ring. Your eyes widen owlishly and he interprets it as a good sign. Until you step back.
“Oh Malleus….I can’t accept this. We aren’t even dating!” You deny his unspoken proposal with a shaken tone Malleus’ is unfamiliar with. Not from you.
“Why not? I love you. Is that not enough? Do you not love me?”
He fails to understand why you declined. He spent countless hours studying human customs and expression. No. Studying you. He was confident you returned his affections. So why? Why not leave this place and join him?
You explain to him that you’re incapable of marrying someone you haven’t spent time with romantically. That you do care about him. That you liked him and did feel for him. That you could love him, but not so suddenly. You have friends at NRC and didn’t want to leave. Not to mention how him marrying a human, especially with no warning, would cause so many political problems.
Of course he had already taken all this into consideration. He didn’t care about all that, yet bit his tongue from speaking his mind. Another first for Malleus.
“What if I abide by your terms? Would you allow me to court you properly?” He cuts into your sea of reasons not to be together. They weren’t his concern. Only you.
This gets you. He clearly wasn’t listening. Love blinded the average person, and Malleus’ heart bled. You consider his offer, and agree to his courtship. It would be difficult to maintain considering your distance and his status. Yet they were fickle matters to Malleus.
You were his first failure, yet he didn’t mind. There was no true victory without a bit of labor.
The change that he so feared, it became something Malleus adored. Every time he would whisk you away from NRC, or return for a visit - you were different. You had a new story to share, or had changed your appearance. At first he began to panic once again at how quickly you seemed to evolve without him.
And one day he realized that you would keep changing. He’d see a new you forever. All these new versions. A constant spark and longing that made him realize how precious each one was. They would come whether he bid them to or not - so he had to cherish them. Every version of you was one he loved and lost. Yet the fact that another would emerge kept his heart complacent.
You were his first kiss on a dewy fall morning. You were his first heartfelt dance, dressed in shimmery black satin and pearls that he gifted. You were his first goodnight kiss, and first morning embrace. You were his first comfort after tragedy struck and his first sympathetic heartache. You were everything.
It was no longer about chaining you. He loved his firsts. He would forever remember them.
His first goodbye.
On the cusp of your 3rd year coming to a close, Malleus prepared the ring from two years prior. He would gift it to you after your graduation. It would be yours whether you accepted the meaning behind it or not - the ring could go to no one else.
An announcement arrives to him the week prior via pen and paper. Hand written by you and oh how he so loved your letters. Malleus opened it with calm delight, yet as his eyes traveled across the words he forgot how to control his strength. The paper alit in flames.
‘The Headmaster found a way to send me home. Would you come for a visit?’
The letter was not so blunt, but that’s all he could comprehend. Malleus was not ready to say goodbye. He once thought his greatest fear was to watch his flower wilt, yet now it must be cut to make a bouquet.
As much as it tore him apart, Malleus had to let you go. He couldn’t root you to soil forever. His hands unconsciously drift to the velvet rose box tucked safely in his breast pocket.
It’s only natural you’d be the source of some of Malleus’ lasts. He would never love another.
He joins you days before your ceremony. You explain to him the procedure to return, and he bites his tongue once again. He encourages you, and is happy that you’re happy. The ring burns a hole where his heart lies yet he continues on with grace, ignoring the cautious behavior of your peers whenever he’s around. The only opinion he cared for was yours, and he’d stay as long as you needed.
Malleus missed the way your heart sought his. The way you gave him chance after chance to ask you to stay. How you clung to him despite the roles normally being reversed.
“I guess this is goodbye. I’ll miss you,” you whisper, holding Malleus’ hand and glancing at the glowing portal behind him. Malleus smiles, his eyes softening as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.
“I will never forget your heart,” he murmurs against your skin, and reaches into his breast pocket with fluid movements. Malleus places the velvet rose box in your hands, cradling them gently with both of his.
“This is yours. I had it made for your finger alone, and only you will be the one to wear it. My heart belongs to you. Let this be my final selfish wish, but I hope you will think of me when you look upon it”
Malleus doesn’t understand why you break down. The way you clutch the box to your chest and look at him with such pain. He thought you wanted to go home. Is it not what you waited so long for?
He cannot be strong when you’re crying. How can you be so cruel. He won’t be able to -
“I want to be with you. I love you,” you whisper yet he hears it perfectly clear.
Malleus’ heart stutters and he clutches your shoulders. With one hand he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your eyes splotched with red irritation and glassy with sorrow. He wipes at their edges with his thumbs, cupping your cheeks ans looking at you for any sign of doubt. Any insincerity or fear. Your expression from years prior still lives rent free in his mind…he would not risk your happiness for his selfishness.
He finds nothing and pulls you in his arms. For the first time, Malleus sheds tears born from love. From relief. He wraps his arms protectively around you, and tucks his chin over your head.
“If you love something, let it be free. If it was meant to be yours then it will come back willingly. This is a saying of humans, is it not? I could not have you at the cost of your happiness. You do not deserve such a tainted love…but if this is truly what you desire, then I will not cease my efforts. You are mine, and I will eternally be yours,”
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{Malleus’ ring is hand crafted by the royal blacksmith. Some would assume that there is a ring passed down through generations of the Draconia bloodline. There is not. The fae do not follow such traditions, yet Malleus would not instill all his values onto you. If it is a ring you need, then it is a ring he will get. He decides to reforge a gem plucked from his mother’s staff. The ring is made especially for you, with a teardrop-cut of magic-infused emerald as the focus point. It’s enchanted to reject any hand other than your own, and morphs to the size of your finger. It is subtle, made of pure gold, and a symbol of union between fae and mankind.}
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"One should never make a vow of eternal love lightly. Take it from someone with ample life experience"
Lilia often imposes advice without any prompting. The musings of an old man normally went in and out of people's ears anyways. Sometimes it takes experience to learn, and no matter how we try to warn our children - fate is fate. They will go through the motions just as the people before them. Especially when it comes to trials of the heart such as love and loss.
Lilia knows both intimately. They've forged the man he is.
Philia: Love of friendship and equals. His peers, his comrades in arms, his fellow fae. The friends he has lost through death and distance. Those he fought to protect.
Storge: Parental love. To raise the son of his closest friends, and the blood of his sworn enemy. Lilia has fought through loss to feel the gratification of fatherhood. Lilia loves his children.
Agape: Love of man. This one took work. It took losing all he had, and then losing more. Hundreds of years of healing and trying to be better. Even in his final stretch Lilia is still learning this love.
Eros: Passionate, unconditional love. Lilia has felt this once, and only once. The wound still fresh with a dribble of salt steadily halting the healing process. To feel eros is a beautiful thing, but to have it ripped away is enough to kill.
Lilia experienced his fair share, and now enjoys watching those in the prime of life seek out love. He doesn't engage in romantic gossip, but enjoys watching others live their lives. One of his biggest curiosities being you, oddly enough.
This is because you've shown no interest in feeling love of any kind. Being the nosy man he is, Lilia finds your dismissal of others a bit concerning. He's not the most open person himself, yet you're a young human. This is when you should be wild! Surely you must feel something, considering all the 'escapades' you've been on with other students. The best way to bond is over shared trauma - he's not endorsing it. Just stating a fact.
"It's nothing personal. I'd rather not get too attached considering my living circumstances, if you catch my drift" you say in response to his prying.
He indeed 'catches the drift' and sees a bit of himself reflected in you. You were not unkind, yet also not overzealous. You did not push others away, yet also made an effort to protect yourself. For all the kind deeds you've done, Lilia knew better than to think it a case of bleeding heart syndrome. You remind him of how he was when deciding to raise Silver - afraid and very good at hiding it for the sake of others.
He decides to step in against his better judgement. If anything to repay the kindness you've done Malleus and his two youngsters. He couldn't watch you waste the precious life you’ve been given huddled away in isolation. Lilia would become your confident, as he is the most equipped to endure inevitably bidding farewell. If anything he will encourage you to forge stronger bonds of your own accord without fear.
He does an outstanding job at being the extrovert adopting an introvert. His favorite hobby being to startle you - popping out from random places like trees, bushes, the ceiling, your closet, etc. So much that you grow accustomed to his antics and expect them. Going so far as to always carry hard candies in your coat pocket as a peace offering.
He invites you to play online video games, go shopping, and sometimes pops by your dorm with Malleus. However his visits soon become solo, sensing that his adopted son didn't enjoy his 'nightly stroll' with his best friend being invaded. Lilia didn't mind - it meant that he'd get your company all to himself! There was nothing like watching a few horror flicks and tormenting Grimm after them. You even had a guest room in case he felt too ‘lazy’ to fly home.
On your birthday, he bakes a cake and leaves it on your kitchen windowsill. You found it, and even thanked him 'happily' later that day. He never said he was the chef though....you must have quite a keen sense of taste! That or he must be so talented that you know his cooking by heart!
Lilia felt a sense of relief, seeing your mannerisms shift from neutral to happy as time passed. It was hard work ebbing away at those walls of yours. It's not good for humans to be stressed. It lessens their already short lifespan.
He really should step aside. Let you befriend more humans and people that will support your journey. Except he doesn't want to. Philia's taken root in his heart - you're now a friend. An actual one.
So...he doesn't let go.
You join the college's boardgame club, and Lilia feels honored that he's the first you ask to play with. Each time you sought his company made him feel young again. Thrills did tend to follow your wake after all.
You often spent many evenings teaching Malleus, Silver, and even Sebek about your world. Not something Lilia planned for, but seeing you open up about it put his mind at ease. The different cultures, history, trends - Lilia listens in happily as well. Going so far as to learn some of your favorite recipes. He wants to cook them right away, but agrees to wait for your company. You grew nervous when he brought the topic up, possibly because you didn't want to be left out? Surely, that must be why.
Soon comes another January 1st - Signifying a new year and also Lilia’s birthday. The night prior he was out on the prowl, flying free throughout campus, watching people party and celebrate. Normally he’d spend this evening having fun of his own, but being caged at a school left him little chances to be free. Jumping across rooftops and sneaking around doing parkour was a trip down memory lane. The fireworks and lively people made for an excellent atmosphere.
By chance he happened on your rooftop, and decided to pop in for a quick respite. Slipping in through an open window was child’s play, as was avoiding your paranormal houseguests and popping in and out of rooms.
His keen hearing picks up your voice coming from the main bedroom - and normally he wouldn’t invade a personal space but the door was open. So obviously it was an invitation. He sticks to the ceiling and crawls to a shrouded corner with a mischievous grin.
How unsuspecting you were - dressed up in fancy clothes and muttering to yourself while in front of a floor length mirror. Lilia thinks you’re going to a party and is prepping to tag along -
“Alright. I can do this,” you mutter and turn around to pace the floor. A neatly wrapped present is clutched tight in your hands - wrapped in ivory paper with a sparkly pink ribbon. Lilia freezes just when he’s about to jump down, and clings back to the wall. “Just give it to him. Give it and tell him how you feel,” you turn towards the mirror, holding the box out, “Hello there Lilia. Yes, this is a birthday present. Yes, you’re a year older, how exciting! By the way I really like you so would you want to go on a date?” You fall silent, cringing in disgust at your reflection before sitting on the bed, “Ah. That was such dogshit”
Lilia exits as swift as he entered. The night air whips against his skin as he transforms into a bat and is already on the way back home. The implications of what he just witnessed weighing heavily on his mind.
This would not be the first time someone has caught feelings for him. You don't go 700 years without any suitors - he'd always turn them down with careful consideration.
Except he doesn't want to this time. That's the major issue.
The flight home was long, with purposeful detours until he felt tired enough to retire. A familiar bitter ache stung his heart. He'd only felt this disappointment once prior, and swore off letting it bud again.
Eros.
Lilia was in love too. He recognized the passion growing long before this moment, and against his better judgement let it fester.
"Seems I'm not as equipped to handle this as I once believed" he says to no-one and moves to play some online games instead of sleeping.
Lilia once felt a love he couldn’t express through anything other than fealty and devotion. It was a darker time where there was no promise of future. He swore not to endure that pain again - yet this is similar yet also different. The love is blooming effortlessly. His devotion is growing. The desire is there and so is the fear. All the same feelings yet without the dire weight of external forces adding pressure. This time it’s his choice to follow through. There’s no bigger force at play stopping him. Not even your mortality, considering how his lifespan is almost at its close.
Yet for all his years of wisdom, the thought of putting his heart out was still as frightening as the first.
In truth, Lilia had ulterior reasons for pursuing your companionship other than worry or repaying a debt. Your behaviors did remind him of his past self. That was no lie. He simply felt affection blooming upon your first meeting and thought having your friendship would morph it into something more tame. He had a habit of drawing in lost souls - what was one more?
Now the affection is stronger, and you return it.
Heavens, was he being given another chance? After all these years.
You return it. It's requited. He needn't hide it for the sake of someone else's happiness. Lilia could be selfish, if only he let himself.
The next day, Lilia finds an ivory box with a sparkly pink ribbon outside his door. A neatly written letter is attached, with the words 'Happy Birthday' written on the front. His name is written on the tag in black ink, with your name signed as the sender.
Lilia picks it up and undoes the wrapping with nimble movements. Inside is an assortment of treats that he wanted to try from your home, and a neatly folded letter atop them. It details exactly what was expected, a perfect explanation of your feelings that's entirely different than the nervous display he intruded upon.
He looks around the hallway, checking to see if you’re nearby before disappearing without a trace. Nothing but an open door showing that he left.
Everything after is a blur. While doing the dishes back at your dorm and trying not to think of the present - Lilia appears out of nowhere, startling you for what was probably the first time in months. His typical cheeky grin and snicker were nowhere in sight.
He says one thing, “Are you certain?”. The words held a heavy meaning for the both of you.
Asking if he’s willing to go for one last chance. To take one final risk or simply be satisfied with all he’s accomplished thus far. It asks if you’re willing to do the same - to risk everything you’ve built in one fell swoop.
You nod, and Lilia smiles. Not an impish smirk or a snarky grin. A true, soft smile that is full of released tension. He happily hugs you from behind as you finish working in silence, gradually slipping back to his playful ways yet not entirely. He would remain the out of touch peepaw that you so loved to tease him as, but a bit of his youthful spirit was being revived. His inner self being healed, perhaps.
He loves you, and the world hasn’t split in two. It was his time.
Finally.
From then on he had no reservations in loving you. This was a new form of eros. A new passion filled with joy and living for the moment - versus the weight of time holding him back like it did when he was younger. Nothing changed in your dynamic other than he now had the strength to let himself love freely.
Which is exactly why he wastes no more time. Just as he told you off hand long ago, one should not make a vow of eternal love lightly. He’d take his own advice and seek his own happiness for the first time in hundreds of years.
On a random night with no inkling of warning, Lilia drags you out of bed to the Ramshackle rooftop in nothing but your nightclothes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ask for a midnight escapade - just for the thrill and surprise, most of the time. He loved to keep things exciting.
Except he was being far too gentle. Far too nostalgic. He sits you down on the edge of the roof and puts his cardigan over your shoulders. Not a word passes between you as he tucks it snug around your shoulders - his hand tracing the line of your cheekbones, down your arms and to your hands. He cradles them gently, never taking his eyes from yours.
Then something foreign glimmers against your finger. In an effortless motion, he slipped the ring on without pause. You can’t help but stare at the gem in thought, looking between it and Lilia’s thoughtful expression over and over.
Lilia nods, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over the ring - admiring it against your skin.
“I’ve lived many years. Lead many lives. I thought I had accepted my nearing end, yet I find myself wanting more. I want to grey with grace at your side. To enjoy mundane evenings - greet you come morning and kiss you to seal a day’s end. I want my last life to be at your side, if only you will have me”
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{A blood red garnet placed inside a blossom frame. Lilia’s ring is made of silver, and gives the illusion of a red rose in a bed of vines. Red is the color of passion, devotion, and unconditional love. Red roses hold this very meaning in the language of flowers. Lilia has felt this before - but you are his fated. You have chosen him simply for the person he is - not who he needs to be. He can finally be free and at peace. Your love is something he can selfishly hoard and it gives him the desire to enjoy life. He feels full. Happy. He hopes that this ring shows that he wants to live for the moment by your side, eternally}
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Favorite And Best Vanilla Perfume
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The base notes of vanilla are complemented by sandalwood and cedar which are two of probably the most classic mixtures, making this an easily recognizable scent. It begins somewhat bit floral, with exotic white botanicals similar to jasmine, but then an unexpected and really welcome salty vanilla hum kicks in. Once it’s dried down we found the sultry woody notes linger the longest.
In fact, the scent is key to a variety of the most distinctive men’s aftershaves in the marketplace. At the risk of needlessly confusing everybody and getting in a tangle with the Trades Descriptions Act, you probably can relaxation assured that the vanilla scents listed below are far from, nicely, vanilla. Technically, all fragrance is unisex—it feels retro to say a man cannot scent like flowers or a girl should not smell like woodsmoke if she likes.
Last however definitely not least, vanilla is a delicate yet distinct scent. A lot of the time, the extra refined a scent is, the simpler it could get washed into the background without packing a punch. Vanilla is unique because it could possibly stand out without concealing other scents, from grapefruit to tobacco and every little thing in between. Vanilla presents a creamy and light-weight perfume that is doubtless certainly one of the most popular scents within the fragrance business and has been for a couple of years. Many individuals think of vanilla as a female scent, but many masculine perfumes comprise this scent; it's extra about what different scents it is mixed with.
We’re also not going to make use of those overly-complicated, exclusionary descriptions like gourmand, vanilla notes, or perfume oil to describe our genderless scents. This is an ultra-feminine fragrance that is good for a fun-loving lady on a summer’s day or a date evening with that special somebody. You’ll like vanilla perfume if you’re a fan of recent, enjoyable scents, which are good for daytime wear.
“There's a spicy, carnal, barely feral side of vanilla that turns into addictive and raunchy. So within a fragrance, it radiates with a lot of sensuality and confidence,” says fragrance writer and presenter, Alice du Parcq. Find your good sweet but seductive vanilla scent with our tried and tested guide to one of the best vanilla perfumes the market has to offer. Reminiscent of cheerful, sunny days on a beautiful tropical vacation, Vaniglia is an interesting fragrance that pays tribute to Madagascar's scrumptious vanilla. Warm, cozy, and enveloping, this fragrance combines fizzy and luminous citruses with deep gourmands and luxurious florals.
Cookiecrunch by Coquillete Paris is a gourmand and gentle perfume identical to a freshly baked shortcrust pastry. This fragrance contains Madagascar vanilla, tobacco, iris, rose absolute, spices, oakmoss, and freesia. Freesia is a contemporary and fruity flower that blends perfectly with vanilla to make this bold and addictive scent.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years
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Hi uhh may I request a fem!reader where their at UCN, singing and then the animatronic's who activate when there's alot of noise comes to the office?
May I be Mispellin' Sunny? ☀️ 📓 😃
"If you change your mind, I'm the first in line~! Honey, I'm still free~! Take a chance on me~!"
Spinning around in the chair as you sang your heart out, headphones on and power generator running, you remained blissfully unaware of the danger currently present. But you thought you had everything under control. You had the animatronics’ AIs at your fingertips, so you decided to leave them all at zero for the night, thinking they deserved a break.
However, you have forgotten one thing: You weren’t always the one in control here.
Oh no.
While you were distracted, DD showed up not once but twice in a row and saw you singing, interrupting her usual ditty. She thought you’d appreciate an audience and sneakily added “two more problems” to your night.
The only two animatronics agitated by noise.
One of them was situated in the closet down the hall, asleep for a short time before their good eye opened upon activation and looked around the room.
While the temperature was moderate, they could faintly hear the power generator’s loud humming, which irritated them slightly. Yet they also picked up something else.
It was...
Singing?
Yep, that was your voice. Not singing in the nervous way, but...in a way that seemed like you were actually enjoying yourself.
Lefty found nothing enjoyable about this place.
It was meant to be hell...his hell. Yet they had no clue where he went. One night you just mysteriously took his place, and everyone else started treating this like a harmless “game”.
The bear never spoke much to you, but while they remained suspicious of you, they had to admit your voice was quite lovely. They felt drawn to the office now--in a different way.
Of course they’ll have to tell you about the power generator. They certainly couldn’t rest in here with that obnoxious thing going all night (even though it was more bearable than BB’s laughter or Phantom Mangle’s broken static).
So they rose from their usual spot on the floor, glancing up at the camera for a moment. You weren’t even watching them. 
Were you really that distracted? Or did you simply not perceive them as a threat?
Regardless, Lefty headed out of the closet, trudging down the long hallway. They didn’t find anybody else active, which was strange but not surprising. Though as they neared the office, they could hear Music Man’s cymbals clashing, growing louder by the second.
This new and arguably less pleasant sound irked them. One sound they could not tolerate.
You must’ve been deaf to not even hear him behind you.
So they picked up the pace, ready to tell that creepy bot to shush.
However, it wasn’t long before the clashing stopped and they heard a loud animatronic screech, rushing in.
“Hey! Keep it down, will ya?!!”
“Shit!! S-Sorry!”
Much to Lefty’s relief, Music Man only startled you, being practically nose-to-nose with you as he scowled. They sighed quietly and just peered into the office, keeping watch while not making themselves known.
“I thought I was alone.” You awkwardly took off your headphones. “I didn’t know you were active.”
“Well you oughta pay more attention! You’re lucky you’re not that other fellow or else I’d smash your pretty little head in!” On the “smash” he clashed his cymbals together louder than ever, which hurt your ears as you covered them.
“Shhhh. How about you keep it down instead, Music Man?”
Hearing the familiar whispery voice, you spotted Lefty in the doorway, realizing they probably heard you too. “Oh great..the only two animatronics alerted by sound are here. I guess DD thought I wanted a concert.”
“Haha. Very funny.” Music Man rolled his eyes, backing away from you.
You could sense his sarcasm and frowned a bit. “Sorry if my singing annoyed you. I’ll try to-”
“Oh no, no, no!! Your singing is wonderful, dear~!” He frantically reassured you. “It’s that pesky generator that’s making all the racket!”
“...I had that on this whole time?? No wonder..” You grabbed the monitor and switched the generator off, seeing the noise meter go back to one bar. “Okay. That’s what irritated you guys..alright. Well MM did scare me so I guess he wins.”
He just laughed in triumph, though the long sigh from Lefty made you both forget they were here, too. You looked at them apologetically. “Hey Lefty, sorry about the generator."
"No hard feelings. I was actually drawn here by your singing."
"Awh you guys.." You were flattered, putting a hand over your heart. “You really think I’m that good?”
“Of course!!” Music Man trilled. “You can sing anytime-!”
"What about me? Uh-oh! How unfortunate~! Uh-oh-"
"I think NOT!!” He snapped angrily as DD made herself known. “Your voice is certainly the most annoying sound I’ve ever heard in this entire place! Get outta here!”
She froze in fear, shocked that her devious plan had been foiled, before looking at you with a smile and quickly finishing the rest of her song.
“HowunfortunateIknowhowmuchyouliketofightsoI’lladdanotherproblemtoyournight~!”
Then she disappeared beneath the trapdoor, but you didn’t get the “new challenger has appeared” message on your monitor. So she didn’t add any more “problems” this time around.
Finally able to relax, you sat back in the chair and gazed at the duo with a smile. “So..wanna hear me sing another song?”
“Only if I can join in~!”
“Yes..it would certainly pass the time.”
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hewantshisbrideback · 3 years
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Jonrya AU: Other Engagements
Summary: The remaining Starks gather some time after the Long Night is won to discuss possible plans for marriages and alliances. With Jon crowned King of the Wall, ruling under Daenerys, High Queen of Westeros, discussion of who will reign by his side as queen over the north is paramount. But Jon is not the only wolf for whom a match must be made.
“Proposals," Rickon groaned and tossed back his head, auburn curls glinting. "My spear is still crusted with blood, and we're already talking of politics?"
"And how long a grace period were you expecting?" Arya snorted, shaking her head. Her dismissive words were born partially of relief. 
She had been speaking with the washer women when Jon found her and pulled her away. He had lead her to a small, stony room, recently rebuilt, containing only two windows, a small side table of wood, and her siblings gathered around in a semi-circle as if for a ritual. 
Her hackles had risen in an instant, but Bran had quickly laid her greatest fears to rest. There was no new tragedy to break their hearts, no new disaster to ravage their land; only the tedious intricacies of a civil society.
“A longer one,” the boy groused. Arya imagined that in his mind, there was likely no tragedy more agonizing than such tedious complexities.
“Oh? Are you inconvenienced?” She tilted her head at him. "Shall we postpone rebuilding the kingdom until the armory's polished nice and new?"
"Can we?" He asked. For a moment it was difficult for her to tell whether he was serious. Maybe the boy didn’t know himself. She cuffed him lightly over the head with a scoff just to be safe, and the grin that broke on his lips was wild.
Still, she had to admit he wasn’t exaggerating. Hardly a moon had past since the last dregs of the Others had been sighted, had been felled, and already there were talks of contracts, engagements, and promises between names she recognized only from war letters and fireside whispers.
During the blight, there had been hurried ceremonies in Great Halls, like that between Princess Val of the Free Folk and the gentle Willas Tyrell. However, there was no need for hushed vows in torch-lit gatherings anymore. What was left of the nobility, and whatever names had been gilded by the Long Winter, would want feasts, balls, parades through the streets.
Arya thought she almost preferred a quiet cloaking in the night. Perhaps that was only natural. After all, she had been present for the wedding of Val and Willas, and no better a pair had been made than they.
She recalled what a sight they’d been: the free woman’s flushed cheeks painted orange with firelight, the lord of the Reach’s nervous brown eyes pinned to his bride’s easy smile, rapt and adoring. They had danced for only a short song, but they had whispered all throughout, and had been whispering to each other ever since whenever she saw them.
The warrior princess and her lord of roses. She could count at least three songs that had been written of them since, the battles the lady fought and the bed of flowers her lord laid down for her, but none of them noted how they made each other laugh, how they sat at each other’s side like old friends.
"Bran is right,” Arya blinked from her thoughts in time to see Sansa grimace and continue, “We may have put aside our differences to face a greater threat, but that won't make for a lasting peace now that the threat is extinguished.”
"Fine," Rickon groused, then pursed his lips, surveying the room sullenly. "So, we're looking to pick up a queen already?"
Arya flinched, eyes snapping to Jon. Perhaps Rickon had been right to moan and whine. She knew her cousin would be married off eventually, now that he'd had a crown foisted onto him, but the idea of helping select his bride settled like shards of ice beneath her ribs. She cursed herself. How selfish she was. Finding a queen for the North was in the best interest of all who inhabited it, and here she was, unable to look at this as of yet faceless woman as anything but another competitor for Jon’s attention.
"A queen for the North?" Sansa contemplated, sounding as equally troubled as Arya felt. Her hopes that Sansa might object in her stead were dashed in an instant. "I suppose it bears discussing--”
"We can't," Arya blurted, panic coursing through her like lightning. Her siblings turned to stare at her. She flushed under their baffled eyes. Swallowing her shame and clearing her throat, she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. "Well, we can't. We can't start making decisions yet. Not on our own. The dragons. They have a stake in this, too."
Jon lingered on her for a moment. She held her breath, brow cocked defiantly, but he made a noise of agreement that showed she need not have worried. "That's true. I'm heir, second to Aegon. Daenerys lets me keep my name, but she will want a say in who shares our blood all the same."
"You're right. It may be one day that the children of your union and hers are married themselves," Bran conceded. “It won't do to decide without her.”
Her sister nodded, expression poised and thoughtful. "That’s true. I suppose there should be some talk between us and her, even Aegon perhaps, before we think about who would be a suitable choice.”
The ice in Arya's chest melted, soft like relief, but colder and heavier, and she made an effort to ignore the stab of resentment at her sister’s next words.
“Jon, you can send her a message, invite her to share her thoughts. Of course, you could always visit her in person as well, if she prefers it.”
Jon's jaw ticked as he nodded, eyes flickering towards Arya, only to snap away as if it burned when she returned his gaze. For a moment, she was petrified. Had he noticed? Had he noticed how upset this talk of queens had made her?
"Alright," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "I'll draft a letter after supper."
His words were disappointing, and his tone was resigned, but it was also familiar. She felt her heart calm. It was no use to fret, over any of it. They were close, and given all that happened, it only made sense for her to be worried. She shouldn’t be afraid for him to see it. 
And at least the decision itself had been delayed some, Arya thought, staring at the ceiling, even if only until Daenerys had enough time to consider the best use of her nephew.
"Great!" Rickon looked around at each of them. "That's that, then, isn't it?” Sansa tutted at him for his impatience, and Bran shook his head, and Rickon threw up his hands. “If we can’t do anything without the queen’s say-so, why stand here brooding over it now? Just wait until she tells you what to do."
“She’s not just going to tell us what to do.” Arya tried not to quibble over semantics with Rickon, as he was still learning the world of kings and courts, but she couldn’t stop herself this time. “Daenerys isn’t a tyrant. No doubt she has prospects in mind, but the choice is ultimately Jon’s.”
“Which is why it’s worth going over the options now,” Sansa added on, “to prepare ourselves for when we do make that decision.”
“And we will,” Bran intercut, "but we can afford to set it aside today. There are still some other arrangements we need to consider.”
“What arrangements?” Jon rumbled, but the stiff set to his jaw and the scowl inching onto his lips made it clear he had some idea and, evidently, disapproved already.
If Bran sensed his ire, he ignored it. “Arrangements for the rest of the Starks."
Arya blinked. She had seen the eyes of visiting nobles and their kin lingering on her brothers and her sister. Even she had received some curious glances. But somehow she’d still managed to overlook the obvious, managed to fool herself into thinking that they had more time.
“Are we really to be parted from each other so soon?” she murmured.
Bran gave her an appreciative glance tinged with grief, and in that glance she felt all those lonely years already spent apart, a splintered pack. After spending this many fighting so hard to reunite, she felt sick imagining any of her family leaving Winterfell. No wonder Jon was on edge.
“I don’t like it,” Rickon grumbled in tandem with her thoughts, and from the looks on everyone else’s faces, they weren't the only ones. 
Sansa had folded in on herself, a brooding edge to her perfect mouth, but with Rickon’s complaint, she moved beside him, tucking his stray red curls behind his ear, a gesture that smacked of their late mother to a degree which hurt.
“Nevertheless,” she muttered after a moment, hand retracting and interlacing with the other, but she could not bring herself to follow through and continue the thought. No one could.
The room was still and heavy with preemptive sorrow, until Arya could bear it no longer. What would they do, sit in silence in this room until the fire dwindled and the sun set? There were meals to be had and men to appease, even just this evening, and waiting wouldn't stall the inevitable. Bran knew that. They all knew that. Sucking in a solemn, silent breath, she asked, “So then which of us is to be married first? And to who?”
Sansa opened her mouth, face wilted with regret, but Bran shook his head dismissing her, and the rest of them mirrored him. There was no need for a defense to be made.
“I’m well aware of the union between you and Sandor Clegane,” Bran assured her. “I would never ask you to break your vows. Aside from this, your first two marriages would have diminished your prospects regardless, one of which still needs to be annulled. Sansa is not an option. I mean you no offense, sister."
Sansa did not look offended. If anything, her expression spoke to some small, secret amusement. Arya was just glad that she wasn't weeping.
“No,” Bran continued, “by now, the attention of our allies has wandered to our other sister, Princess Arya.”
Arya was still beneath her brother’s cool, blue stare. She used to squirm whenever someone referred to her title aloud. By now, she’d nearly grown used to it. After all, she’d answered to far too many ill-fitting names to abandon Arya Stark for her accompanying titles, so she wasn’t left with much choice. 
Now, something in her felt hollow, as though if the wind began to blow, it would whistle through her insides, and she’d be able to hum without using her mouth.
“They intend to offer their sons to Arya." Jon's words were slow and pointed and metered all the way through. “Have they no daughters for you or Rickon?”
“I did not say that they are not looking out for their daughters as well,” Bran reasoned, just as slowly and emphatic as his cousin had. “But of the three of us, Arya is the most attractive option. She cannot give them a royal title, but it’s no secret what she means to you, and the North at large, or that she’s earned the favor of Daenerys. Every wifeless heir on the continent will be interested.”
She must’ve imagined the way his fists clenched. Jon was smart. Men underestimated him, always, but he was smarter than all of them. He should've expected this, even if, somehow, she hadn’t. Of course suitors would seek a princess’s hand. It would not matter to them whether that hand was supple or calloused. Jon knew that. If he didn’t, he should’ve.
If the world had taught her anything, it had taught her that nothing staves the ambition of powerful men. Not even death. Not even ugliness.
“Good.” The word startled her, even more than her sister’s soft hand suddenly pressing to her cheek. But she smiled, albeit with closed lips, as Sansa's furrowed gaze swept over her features like she'd never seen them, like she was trying to absorb all she could for safe keeping. “You’ll have your pick of the lot.”
“Septa Mordane would be quaking to hear such talk of Arya Horseface,” Arya snorted in response, provoking a wry smile from Bran, an expression she sheepishly mirrored.
“Be serious, Arya,” Sansa huffed with a noble frown, hand falling from her face to clutch her wrist in earnest. Arya adjusted her clasp so that they held hands instead, and Sansa's thumb swept the back of her hand in search of comfort. “That silly, old nickname couldn’t be more ill-fitting. You’re quite pretty now.”
Jon made an ill-tempered rumbling noise, and Arya wanted to press him, but refrained in front of the others. He’d been reserved since he was a child, but ever since the Long Night began, he’d been downright secretive. She wouldn’t pry, at least not until she’d gotten him alone.
“It’s true," Rickon cut in, offering a rakish grin. “You should hear the free folk talk of you, sister. They say such things I’ve had to threaten to gut near half of them. They might’ve tried to steal you already, if they weren’t so frightened of Jon. And me, too, of course!”
The others stiffened, but Arya saw his assurance for what it was and spared a moment to thank the old gods for her littlest brother. Though her gratitude didn’t prevent her from rolling her eyes.
“The freefolk have a might different set of standards than the noble lords of Westeros. I can only hope that my reputation is not too far spread. It’s too much harder to see a she-wolf wed than a proper lady,” she drawled, letting go of Sansa as she paused and turned to him with a shrug. “Though I suppose in another world, a marriage with some wily freefolk warrior might've suited, and done well to unite the North.”
Rickon puffed up with pride, though on behalf of whom she had no idea.
“You can’t be serious,” Sansa huffed, then turned an admonishing glare on her brothers. “I know that you have all grown quite fond of the wildlings, having spent so much time with them, but however helpful they’ve been, there is hardly a suitable match for a lady amongst them.”
“A princess, now,” Bran reminded her, and Sansa nodded firmly.
“Suitable how?”  A sneer curved on Rickon's mouth. “I’m not the one who wants to marry her off, but a free man can be good as any lord of Westeros. It wasn’t a wildling who tortured the poor girl in Arya’s stead, was it? And your good Joffrey was a prince. It seems that didn’t stop him from being vile.”
“Rickon!” Arya snapped in warning.
The youngest Stark stared her sister down, burning as remorselessly as the sun, but Sansa’s face was stone and her eyes blue flint.
“That is not what I meant,” she amended calmly. “Of course, the wildlings are no more capable of cruelty than the rest of us. That being said,” her words sharpened to points, like they were her talons, "the lords of Westeros will not stand to see one Stark sister married to a former knight and the other to a wildling. Not when order has just been settled and peace is still in question. If we marry Arya to a wildling, we spit in the faces of our Northern lords and our Southron neighbors both.”
“Aside from that, we don’t need another tie to the free folk,” Bran noted mildly. “With Tormund in our council, Val in the reach, and Jon their chosen king, their loyalty is as guaranteed as we could hope.”
Arya shrugged. “Well, as far as I've heard, if I were to be stolen, I'd hardly be in a position to refuse."
"Perhaps not, but I don't think Jon would be all too pleased to wake up and find you stolen by one of his subjects." Bran was watching Jon as if it were his sole, solemn duty. "I imagine they'd only get so far before he stole you back."
Jon flinched violently and it was a shock, how pale and harrowed he looked. 
"It’s not like anyone could ever steal me away in the first place," Arya reminded him quietly, and when he looked at her, his mouth was pressed into a bitter facsimile of a smile.
“Unfortunately,” Rickon mumbled, and when Sansa and Jon simultaneously turned to glare, he merely scuffed his foot against the ground defiantly. "I mean it. At least then she could've stayed in Winterfell.”
Ridiculous boy. Arya nearly pulled him into a hug, but Bran interrupted her before she could move and his next words kept her still.
"It's not entirely out of the question,” he professed. “It’s possible she’ll find a suitor who will be able to reside in the North."
Arya felt her heart stutter. “You mean, like someone who’s not an heir?”
“No,” Sansa asserted. “If you snub the heir of one house for another’s second son, their entire territory will take it as an offense.”
“No, I was not specifically thinking along those lines,” Bran amended. “There are those with other circumstances under which you may be able to remain.” His eyes slid curiously to one of the windows as he tilted his head. "Ned Dayne, for example. We’ve received word that he intends to act in service to the Queen’s Greater Westerosi Council. You get along well, don't you?"
Jon stepped forward before she could reply, straightened to his full height. His stare was locked on her, stark and unyielding against the pallor of his cheeks, like stones atop snow dunes. "How do you know the Sword of the Morning?"
Arya felt apprehension tighten like a cord around her throat.
This had been the way since they’d reunited.
When Jon introduced her to his allies, she’d beamed like the sun. They had delighted her, despite her jealousy, for all the years she’d spent apart from him, that he’d been with them instead. The jealousy didn’t matter as much as the relief that he’d found friends. She took them as her own. She had been excited for him to do the same with hers. She had been so sure he would, it hadn’t even felt like hope. She’d just known.
But when she brought Jon to Gendry, explained who he’d been to her, he met the smith with suspicious words and a dark glare. When she told him of Hot Pie, or Lommy, or Weasel, or any of the number of sailors and whores from Braavos, he answered only with sarcasm and silence. And the Hound...
Now she’d be the first to point out that Sandor Clegane had not been her friend, or her ally, when they first travelled together. But she would also admit, begrudgingly, that he’d become something close by the time he accompanied her to the Wall with the Brotherhood. Jon had known that. Still, when Sansa brought the Hound into their home as her husband, Arya had heard the King of the Wall bellowing his objections from the other side of Winterfell.
"We travelled together, for a time," she replied carefully. Her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth. "Not very long.”
“When?” he prompted impatiently.
“When I was with the Brotherhood,” she confessed, “back when it was still lead by Beric Dondarrion.”
“You didn’t say anything.” In other circumstances, these words might’ve been a mere observation, or even an expression of concern, but here and now, they were an accusation.
He had mentioned the Sword of the Morning to her before in passing, but by that time, around the time poor Morgan Umber started running away whenever she waved in his direction, she had heard just about everything he had to say about her friends. So she had decided not to mention it. That would be easier.
Except now it looked like she’d been keeping secrets. She cursed the gods and all they stood for. “He wasn't the Sword of the Morning then — just a boy."
"Oh, just a boy," Rickon snorted. "Just another boy, you mean?"
Jon glowered but said nothing.
"That's right," Sansa tittered, with a sudden little smile. "You’ve collected so many. The blacksmith, the baker. Even that boy from House Umber. And now, the heir of Starfall."
"Gendry wouldn’t be a bad match either," Rickon piped up, a grin forming. Like Jon, he had been wary of the smith when Arya first introduced them, but unlike Jon, that had since changed. There was a higher degree of respect between the Free Folk and the Brotherhood than between either of them and any of the other factions. They worked together more easily, and more often, and Rickon was always with Osha and the free folk. Between this growing familiarity and Gendry's formidable reputations both as the Bull of the Brotherhood and the Arm of Stoneheart, a friendship had formed.
Her sister, on the other hand, had been entirely lukewarm when it came to the blacksmith. It was clear she saw him as beneath Arya’s station, but he was useful and she’d kept any complaints to herself, likely as recompense for Arya’s support for her and Sandor. This worked in Gendry’s favor as Sansa hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, only saying, "Who knew your habit of collecting strays would come so in handy?"
Arya's cheeks warmed. "They're not strays."
Rickon shrugged. "Not anymore, I suppose.”
"They're allies!” She insisted. “They're vital allies."
This time, Bran shrugged. "They can be both," he suggested innocently.
Arya growled and whacked his shoulder gently, turning to Jon for even a drop of support, but the only thing she found was frustration marring his brow. They were stalling again, wasting time. Arya sobered. She felt a bit like a child, finding Jon so troubled and having been so oblivious.
"Jon?” she ventured. “What are you thinking?"
He was quiet for a moment and she thought he might scold them, but instead he responded, "It's as Sansa said before. A knight is hardly a suitable match for a princess, let alone a smith."
Arya prickled at his words. True as they may be, in the political sense, the insinuation that her friends were somehow beneath her would never sit well with her. She knew that Jon was just being practical, that he had too much sense to hold a man's status against his character. 
But then, he seemed to make many exceptions to sense when it came to those she cared about. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to marry Gendry, but she knew she’d prefer him to most, and she wasn’t about to let Jon discount him without objection.
"Gendry isn't just a smith.” She reminded him stiffly, fighting to remain civil as he huffed and turned away. "He leads the Brotherhood without Banners. He has earned the respect of Westeros.”
"And the smallfolk adore him. He's not just some war hero to them," Rickon added eagerly, looking to her, and she nodded him on. “He means something more. The whole Brotherhood does. They love them.”
"And he may not be a lord, by his own choice," Arya concluded, "but he is a Baratheon. That could mollify at least some of the lords."
"And would it mollify Daenerys? Or Aegon?" Jon snapped. "When it was a Baratheon who killed their family and sent them into exile in the first place? I may be their kin but I can only do so much to protect you."
"I thought that Daenerys granted immunity and legitimacy to Robert's children in exchange for recognizing Targaryen rule?" Sansa asked, hands moving to her hips. "Even Edric Baratheon has bent the knee."
"So how do you think she feels about Gendry, then, the only bastard to refuse her offer of a title and land? And the leader of a band of fools," Jon spat the word like it tasted foul on his tongue, "who reject the authority of anyone who wears a crown?"
Why Jon was suddenly spouting hostility at the Brotherhood he'd vocally appreciated during the war, Arya wasn't sure, but as much as she took issue with his slander, it wasn’t the time to bring it up. "If Daenerys does see the Brotherhood as a threat, then a marriage between us could be a means of establishing peace before a conflict breaks out...”
The look Jon gave her was that of a wounded animal with its prey cornered. She forgot what she had been about to say.
"If you think," he hissed, "that I'm going to risk your life on the premise that it might prevent disputes between that menace and the Crown, then I am going to have to disappoint you."
"And what of Edric Dayne?"
Arya could only watch as Jon turned away to face her sister, whose chin jutted out defiantly at the king. That imperious timbre sent shivers down Arya’s spine. She hadn’t heard her sister take such a lofty tone with Jon in ten years.
Jon, on the other hand, just sounded irritated. "What of him?"
"As a candidate for Arya's husband,” Sansa deadpanned, as unamused with him as he was with her. “Is something wrong with him?"
"Is this not the boy that used to traipse around with the same Brotherhood?" Jon enunciated his words as if he was speaking to someone extraordinarily slow and particularly annoying, and if his goal was to offend, then by the way Sansa bristled, he had succeeded.
"His involvement with the Brotherhood was minimal, contingent on his position as Ser Dondarrion's squire, and has already ended," she pointed out hotly. "It would have to, either way, seeing as he's not just a lord, but the heir to Starfall." 
"And you think as the heir to Starfall, he and his bride will not be obligated to return to Starfall?" Jon replied just as impatiently. "He could afford to pick up the mantle of Sword of the Morning and run around the continent as a knight during the war, but do you truly think he will forfeit his responsibilities at the behest of a girl he knew when he was a squire?"
"But what if he forfeits his claim? If he intends to work for the council, he will."
"Then there is no guarantee he settles here."
“Oh,” Sansa made a cruel, ladylike sound, something like a laugh but not. "Is that all?"
The whites of Jon’s eyes had never been so visible. "Is that all?"
"Is that all, that she may have to leave? Is that your only qualm?"
"He offers her nothing!"
"He's a lord. He's an heir." Sansa lifted a finger with each point she made. "He's a war hero. He's a celebrated ally to the Martells, and to the Targaryens!"
Jon scoffed, loud, and so unlike him at all that Arya's jaw fell a little. "If a king with Targaryen blood is not enough to guarantee peace with the Targaryens, then a marriage to Edric Dayne will do no better! He offers her nothing!"
"He offers her security and kindness!" Sansa roared, calm breaking like the sea against cliffs. "He and Arya are not just familiar with each other — they're friends. Do you understand how rare and precious it is? As far as safety and happiness can go, there's no better assurance than that."
"What of our assurance?" Rickon snapped, stepping into line with his cousin, opposing Sansa. "We can offer her better than that."
"Exactly, Rickon!" Jon crowed, towering above them all even as he leaned in to emphasize his point. "Her family, in Winterfell, is better than that."
Her sister sputtered at his malice, turning to Arya, but she could only stare back, face still slack with surprise. Helpless, Sansa seethed, shaking her head at them all. "And so, what? She will never marry anyone?"
"I don't see why she has to," Rickon grumbled, but Arya barely heard him as Jon crossed over to her, took her by the shoulder, and tucked her into his side. "At least right away.”
"She doesn't," Jon agreed, gaze soft and raw, as if he’d been stripped bare and bleeding before her and didn't mind at all. What was she supposed to do? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Time? But then he said, “She won’t.”
Sansa shrunk back as if slapped and Arya stilled under his arm. This was a voice she'd only heard him wield on the battlefield, or in court, deep as a wolf and imperious as a dragon. He had never been the king with them, not with his family, no matter how they'd fought or what over. But now, he’d raised his head to look at Sansa with narrowed eyes, and did not seem to see a cousin at all.
He continued steadily, "We have every right to keep her."
Sansa’s teeth were small and peeked out from her mouth like she wanted to run but when she met Arya's gaze, her mouth shut. She straightened her posture, her chin dipped low and humble this time. "You are a Targaryen king, but you're not her head of house. You may have a say, but the final word is Bran's."
Jon’s grip tightened and Arya winced as he positioned himself between the two sisters, almost as if to make sure Sansa wouldn’t reach out and grab her.
"Oh, did you forget?" she asked, so elegantly applying salt in the wound.
"It seems Bran has," Arya interjected. "Surely he has something to add?"
She looked to her brother, silently imploring, but he merely made a contented hum. Part of her wanted to tear her hair out, another wanted a go at his. She did not see what was so amusing about their siblings spitting and hissing at one another over her marriage prospects. Jon and Sansa were volatile enough as it is, some days managing genuine cordiality and others only just barely maintaining a facade of civility. This couldn’t help.
"Bran will do what's best for Arya," Jon spoke on his behalf, drawing her even closer, so her chest was pressed to his ribs. His heat warmed her like a furnace. "I trust him with that much. He loves his sister."
"And I don't," Sansa inhaled, eyes wide and stepping back. "That's what you mean, isn't it? Be honest with us, Jon. Arya and I have made our peace and moved past our childhood quarrels, but clearly, you haven't. You still hold them against me, don't you?"
"It's nothing like that," Arya assured her with a furrowed brow, gesturing for her cousin to corroborate. Jon didn't say a word.
Sansa looked down at her and soon deflated. "What would you know? He's an entirely different person to you.” She turned back to Jon, her voice low and scathing. “You’re making me look like a villain for suggesting she marry at all, but I’m just trying to find her someone who will be good for her before it’s too late. I will not allow her to suffer like I did.”
"No, you would just exile her from her home, to live with strangers.” There was no room for argument. There never had been. “Arya has been away from home long enough without you sending her away once more."
"Away from home, or away from you?”
She might’ve said more, she must’ve said more, and Jon must’ve said more too, but Arya couldn’t stand to hear another a word of it. What was the point of this bickering and bullshit? All the while Bran just sat there with that inscrutable certainty as his eyes trailed after Jon, and what did any of it matter?
“Enough!” she howled, pushing at his chest and ripping out of Jon’s reach.
His arm hung in the air for a moment, expression hurt, but she didn't have the time to be sorry.
"Were either of you going to ask me what I thought? Or are you two happy assuming you know what's best for me, as well as the North, and the rest of the kingdoms?" she snapped. Sansa, Jon, and even Rickon all began speaking at once, but she'd had enough of listening for an entire week. “Shut up! I’m sick of it. I’m sick of all of you.” She sneered. “What a waste of time.”
Sansa objected, and Jon tried to defend himself, but it had been, nothing but a waste of time and a strain on their throats. If this was the way things would go, she was better off being stolen by the free folk. She was half tempted to leave her window open in invitation. They might not even have to bind and carry her.
"We are not going to make these decisions in a single evening," Bran's voice raised now, cutting through the clamor like a sword through cloth. "I knew that when I brought it up. Although, I had thought we'd at least get the chance to discuss some of the prospects for Rickon and me. But that can wait for now. We have other engagements to attend to.”
"Right," she croaked. Meals and men. Meals and men. She was supposed to meet with Ser Davos and Lord Manderley. Through the window, the sky was orange. She swallowed, but her throat kept dry. "I'm already late. I have to go.”
She moved to leave, and Jon moved to follow, but Bran called out and asked him to wait as the door swung shut behind her, and that was the last she allowed herself to hear before breaking into a sprint.
X
@mysticalmuddle This isn’t the fic I was talking about before, but I thought you might like to be tagged anyway, seeing as you’re basically the sole reason I ever post my fics! Thank you for all your encouragement, you are amazing.
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luna-the-moth · 3 years
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Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)
I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.       
Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-
My vampire poll for the OM characters
My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better.  Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!
Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)
Prologue/basics for all of them:
Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.
Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.
So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!
While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.
Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.
Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.
In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.
With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.
On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.
You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.
Lucifer:
Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.
In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.
Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.
It was a nice change, he thought.
However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.
Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.
It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.
Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.
The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.
Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.
The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.
Roses were her favorite flower.
As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.
He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.
The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.
He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.
Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.
The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.
Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.
“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”
Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.
“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”
Leviathan:
Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.
It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)
He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.
What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.
Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.
In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.
From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.
The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.
The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.
So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.
At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.
You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.
You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.
So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!
You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.
Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.
It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.
You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.
By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.
Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.
You created and did this, for him?
Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.
He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.
Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.
He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.
As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.
“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”
Satan:
He fully supported your botanical excursion
After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.
Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.
If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.
So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.
He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.
Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.
And so you began to research.
Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.
You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.
Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.
After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.
Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.
After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.
When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.
Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.
The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.
Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.
In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.
Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.
After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.
He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.
That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.
When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.
However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.
A real, genuine smile.
Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...
Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.
Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.
“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”
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kaypeace21 · 3 years
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Will and the car on fire (theories)
*this is just under the assumption this is Will in the pic and not some other character. Which is still very possible .
Why it could be Will (it's for sure possibly not)
But, most of the rebuttals saying it's not Will are iffy. Cause we really don't have much evidence to point to any 1 character. Like the hair counterargument: that the hair is too long to be Will's .Will's s4 body double has a similar hair tuff on the back of his neck. And we know st uses camera shots of the back of Will's neck/silouette ,in past seasons . So doing so here could make sense. And Will of course is the most associated with fire: using fireball for Will the wise in s1 (3 times), the will the wise drawing from s2 had flames on his cloak, Will being being burned in s2,etc.
So...Will looking at lightning. And (Will?) looking at fire. Both have a dark full body sillhouete and red in the forefront .
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We also see this character is possibly wearing a watch like Will?
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And i've been hearing this a lot here ... but southern california (where the Byers are) does have a lot of trees lol. Not sure why people think otherwise.But, regardless a trip from cali to Hawkins would most certainly have some forrest.
*Also, any movies I’ll be mentioning (in the theories , below) were stated to be inspiration for ST.
So theories...
Theory 1) It's Joyce's car ( and it was rigged  to explode/look like an accident by Brenner or Lonnie). And Will wasn't there but sees it in a nightmare cause it's already happened/or it's a dream vision of the future.
Evidence:  CAR TROUBLES: Joyce’s car model was infamous for exploding in car accidents-being sued by the state of Indianna before the start of the series. We also have Alexi tell murray about a way to cause cars to explode-and turn people into dust (and make it look like an accident). Brenner’s name means “to burn” and he already hurt 1 mother to keep a subject -so not out of the realm of possibilities for him to hurt Joyce (and make it look like an accident to try and get Will and or el). 
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In s3, we have Jonathan and Hopper try and fix  the car-and after this cars explode with people inside. Jonathan lifts the car hood- and notices someone rigged nancy’s car . Than,  right after,Billy’s car lights on fire with him inside. With Hopper (he also lifts the car hood) and joyce barely escapes the lit car (but she may not be so lucky next time).
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 We also have Joyce tell Will 3x she’s going to be ok... which is a bit overkill if she will be OK ... 
And, notice during the hoodlift we see Will observing- which is similar to Alexi watching and warning them before hand that the car (with Joyce inside) will explode. So it’s possible foreshadowing since Will may predict the future and was was paralleled to Alexi.Alexi ‘can we watch lonnie toons now?. Will : can we play d&d now?
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movie inspos: 
It’s hinted s4 will be around Will’s b day: In gilbert grape- Arnie after his b day, has his mom die, and a fire was stagged that lit his mom on fire. ( Before this,Arnie was also raised by his older brother Gilbert cause his dad wasn’t around). stoker-  kid’s parent dies in staged car ‘accident’ on her bday (this allows ab*sive relative closer to kid-since dead parent banned him from seeing kid). The kid  was taught how to hunt, by dad. And is also a painter and bullied at school (like Will). what dreams may come-painter blames themselves for fam dying in freak car accident- the relative was getting a present for them when it happened. so they blame themselves. The descent- also had (right before a b day, the main character’s fam dying in a car accident) .And the sole survivor/family member of the deceased hallucinates a shadow chasing her in a empty hospital hall. Get out-photographer (jonathan)blames himself for mother dying in car accident.
There’s also a lot of other films where the kid (for no logical reason) blames themselves for their mom’s/parent’s death: goodson, dream catcher, analyse this,etc. Of course ... this could simply relate to max and el having survivors guilt after the mall killed their family members (in a fake ‘mall fire’). However, a fake out fire causing  family to die (in s3)  could be foreshadowing for it actually happening in s4?
rigged car explosions: scarface -have guys try and bomb a car with kids and parent inside. backdraft -guy raised by older brother had 1 parent die in explosion and sees the freak explosion occur- later in the film someone rigs a car to explode and masks it as a  freak car accident. Same thing occurs in godfather- he sees family member die in rigged car explosion. The dark knight- rigs car to explode. batman v superman- calls superman a demon and says they need to burn the witch that bore him (aka his mom).
dreams (if in the past): Never ending story (reffed in s3)- starts with kid with bowl cut saying he had another dream about his mother who died. Peanut butter solution- kid has visions in dreams about people he knew who died in fire.  this next movie (emily rose) is  said to be Joyce byers inspo according to Winona - has (kid with 2 personalities) have nightmares from the past  of her and her mother burning in a car fire. while screaming/sleep walking she burns windows with her hands -accidentally using her powers. Some people suspect the videogame “life is strange’ is show inspo too- it has character named max caufield with a ‘never maxine rule’, etc. Anyways in the game prequel queer chloe, who plays d&d, would have dreams/nightmares of her nice parent’s car accident . Despite , chloe not being present for the car accident. After the parent’s death,  she’s stuck with her mean step dad.
dreams (if predicting the future): Will says in s3 Will the wise can see into the future. We also see Will/Will the wise via a dream predict Hopper was in danger-saying  to Joyce “he’s going to die”.  In ‘12 monkeys’ and ‘Rebel Robin st novel’ they mention the myth of cassandra- who could make accurate future prophecies , but was cursed to never be believed by those she warned. In 12 monkeys- he tries warning others of a dreaded event in future- and it’s dismissed as  him being mentally ill. Since, Will’s other abilities were dismissed as his ptsd in s2-and with the Byers fam having a family history of mental illness (they may not believe him over such a prediction). In ‘the ring’-the  movie opens with the guardian saying the boy is drawing the car accident that killed his mom -as a psychological coping mechanism. Only for the teacher to say he made that drawing before his mother’s death (and it’s revealed later the boy is psychic). Terminator 2- sarah conner says she is having future visions, which include explosions, and everyone dismisses it as her being schizophrenic. Like how in s2 a scientist said about Will “let’s see if this boy is a wizard or a schizo”.
If joyce survives the accident she may be hospitlized (and unable to have legal custody). In black swan the girl (with 2 personas) -blames herself for what happened to Winona Ryder’s character (who is in a coma after a car accident. They had had a verbal fight before the accident). In girl with the dragon tattoo- the main character (who is compared to a phoenix and dragon) has 1 parent burned in a fire- and after this her kind guardian is hospitilized so they can no longer take care of her- and she is placed with an ab*sive foster dad (who resembles her bio dad). If Joyce was in a coma - it would further parallel her to terry- and be another willel parallel.
 if dead: Tokyodrift- mom loses custody, and dad who is a mechanic and abandoned the family years ago, later gets custody. Super 8-mom dies in freak accident- douche dad gets custody. Book of henry-mom dies pre-film, ab*sive dad got custody. Outsiders- parents die in car wreck, relative gets custody of teen who he slaps etc.In black swan-girl who blames herself for Winona’s accident is stuck living with ab*sive parent. good son- mom dies, stuck with violent and manipulative relative after this.
Of course-joyce may be fine. And Lonnie may just visit for Will’s b-day and ruin shit that way.
Theory 2) It's an undercover government car that Will uses his powers against in self defense... or in anger after they hurt someone he loves.
Evidence:
Joyce about ‘Will the wise’: If he’s so wise, why does he need the fireballs? Why can’t he just outsmart the bad guys? Will: cause the bad guys are smart too. Joyce: so he needs the fireballs? Will: Yeah, to burn them to a crisp.
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* the fact-this flashback happens at a funeral of a Byers, could also be narratively significant as foreshadowing.
Gov agents in s1 are  called “the bad-men” so Will may use fireball on “the bad-guys”(government agents) . Fire has been used on all the other adversaries relating to the upsidedown-so why not the gov agents (aka human villains) next? 2 movies on the inspo list caught my attention: firestarter & carrie (which are both stephen king adaptions with psychic kids who have fire abilities). 
Firestarter- she has pyrokineseis (firepowers) . And unlike every other psychic in the film- she is the only psychic that doesn't get nose bleeds (aka mini brain hemorages) from using her powers (Will). We know el and kali gets nose bleeds.  
(Anger): She only unleashes her fire abilities on gov agents after they kill her parent...
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*And uses a literal “fireball” on them.
Could also be another willel parallel. kali about the US gov:" They took your mother away from you!" El str*ngles man from gov agency that incapacitated her mom . El before str*ngling him: " you hurt mama".
(self defense): While  in carrie  she kills people who tried to run her over with a car. And causes the car to explode.
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Also, in s3 Steve does technically cause a car to explode to protect Nancy from being run over by a car (so maybe foreshadowing?). I believe, tumblr user ‘bran-who-writes-theoretically” was the first to point out the Carrie/car on fire parallel.
* This car scene could also be added to the list of Willel parallels. El  in s1 uses her powers to flip a government-car upside down. And looks back at it. And it’s a ref to the film Et. So Will causing a government -car to explode and flip upsidedown (referencing carrie) could be a parallel. 
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Of course El flipped over a car in s3 to attack the Soviet agents and protect her friends too ( right before losing her powers). Sort of like Steve using his car as a weapon in s3 to protect his friends. so who knows, if not Will, maybe El (wearing a ponytail) got her telekenesis back and she flips the car and it explodes ? To be honest, I just find this explanation too boring, cliche, and predictable. And I still hypothosize the mindflayer took her telekensis (but not her other powers). Since in d&d mindflayers have ‘mage hand’ (what el is called) and ‘telekenesis’/ along with the ability to steal powers from other life forms. But, we’ll see...
Theory 3) The car flips (maybe caused by a deer jumping in the road) and it blows up after the crash- with Joyce inside. And maybe Jonathan survives it/ Will wasn’t there but had a nightmare /vision about it?
Evidence: in s1 Jonathan sees a dead deer that was hit by a car. This could be symbolic : because it related to Jonathan mentioning the hunting story with his dad and how he cried for a week cause he liked the film Bambi. Which in the film : Bambi (a deer) has his mother k*lled. And after his mother’s death, he’s taken in by his douchey dad who was M.I.A for most of his life ,until his mom passed away. And the hunters are the bad guys in the film . In ‘get out’ the photographer , Chris,blames himself for his mother dying in a car accident - and he sees a dead deer hit by a car -and the dying deer was used to symbolize the guilt he has over his mother’s  death. in ‘the long kiss goodnight’ a character is driving home with a friend- they swerve and hit a deer and 1 of them is ejected from the car into the forrest. But their friend is unconscious in the car and it quickly explodes on the road. The survivor turns and sees the car in flames- disoriented they stumble and kill the dying deer. And it’s left ambiguous if they were helping the deer end it’s pain or if it was vengeful-hunting (since it caused the car accident that killed their friend). Cause their face was emotionless from shock.
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Even in the st novel "suspicious minds' rabbits- like jonathan was forced to kill on the hunting trip with his dad (around his b-day) represented the bond between mother and child.And the mother sacrificing herself for the baby-to not get k*lled (by Brenner).
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-so maybe?? jonathan before he gets the pizza job/car (may have his car break down , like hinted it would in s3).
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 So him and Joyce share the car (once his car stops working) and the accident happens while Jonathan is behind the wheel -with Joyce. And after this he gets the job at surfer boy pizza. Billy was a surfer boy and that memory was used to think about his mother who is no longer around (once he's stuck with his ab*sive dad after moving away from Cali). While Jonathan moved to Cali after his mom passed-maybe stuck with Lonnie.Jonathan's actor in recent pics has a blonde mullet - which sort of resembles joyce/Billy's og hair. This may be why he starts doing dr*gs - which is pretty out of character for him- but it could be a coping mechanism(like in the s4 films). One of many examples was 'enter the void'- the older brother was surrogate parent to their lil sibling and after a car accident k*lls his parents , he starts doing dr*gs to cope. Also ‘hunger games’ was on the list- and Katniss (who was a surrogate parent to her litle sibling, like Jonathan is to Will) in the sequel, saw her family die in an explosion. And it really broke her emotionally.
I've mentioned this before but Billy is used to parallel and foil Will and Jonathan. And it may be more than a ... what if Lonnie had custody scenario. But to show how Lonnie (like most ab*sers) will later bring out the worst in the kids (once he does have custody). Like how s3 has Will mimick lonnie with the baseball bat (and we see in s3 Billy being bullied by his dad to play baseball and flashbacks showing him mimicking Neil). I've also discussed how there's a theme with pretty much every character mimicking their parent- for better or worse.
Killing a deer would certainly hint at Jonathan's possible character regression (and mimicking Lonnie to a certain extent). if he not only blames himself for Joyce's death. But is also stuck with his ab*ser.
The animal k*lling motif , and after that, mimicking an a b*sive father is already shown with el. Brenner , in s1,tried to make her k*ll a cat (using her powers) and she refused (similar to the s1 rabbit hunting story of Lonnie forcing Jonathan to k*ll a rabbit ). But in s2, she uses her powers to k*ll a squirrel (and like a deer- it's typical hunting game). Than in s3 el does literally everything Brenner ever asked of her- she spies on people and repeats the words back (like brenner told her to do), she becomes a weapon to ‘fight the commies’ (which was said to be the reason he k*dnapped her in the first place), and when looking into the void to see the mf (she mirrors the words brenner told her - when he made her go into the void to face the demogorgan).
And some s4 movies are literally about being trapped in a house with your ab*ser and slowly losing your mind because of the ab*se and gaslighting- lighthouse , black swan , good son, are prime examples. But movies like scar face , girl with the dragon tattoo, and book of Henry touch on this theme a bit as well. And ordinary people- is about a guy who survived a vehicular accident but his relative in the same accident didn't- and it causes him alot of issues /survivor's guilt.
The shadowy figure could just be Will in the shot - seeing it in a dream before or after it happens?
Theory 4) Will sees a future vision or has his ’now memories’ of someone else's car.
Evidence: i guess the s4 shot parallels El (in s3) spying on Billy while he’s hurting Heather. During that spying scene: the shot is of El near Billy's car. So it’s possibly a diff willel parallel?
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If not Will. Who knows ...if El’s telekenesis is gone maybe her spying abilities strengthened and look different because of it (and now she can see background details)?
Theory 5) it's Lonnie's car and Will escapes from the trunk and uses his powers in self defense
Evidence: I’m pretty iffy on this one. This goes back to how people suspected Lonnie took Will in s1 (and could be foreshadowing). Even the recent rebel robin book-has characters say Lonnie probably took Will. Jonathan suspected Will may be at Lonnie’s - so checks Lonnie’s car trunk (to see if Will is there). We also see how the mf in s3, knocked people out by dr*gs/str*ngulation, ties them up, and throws them in a trunk (to k*dnap them). Or how the cops raided jonathan’s trunk- which had stuff to track the demogorgan (and the demogorgan parallels Lonnie) . And after looking in Jonathan’s trunk-they suspected something fishy is going on.
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*heather was described as “another me” by Will- who was thrown in the trunk.
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movies: “tangled” was on the s4 list- and had an ab*sive parent later try and kidnap their kid ,and that parent ends up dying. in girl with the dragon tattoo (the girl associated with dragons & phoenixes-  lights her  ab*sive bio dad on fire. In ‘drop dead fred’ (girl who is in love with childhood friend, named Mikey, who she met at age 5) lights a imaginary version of her ab*sive parent on fire - while in a trippy memory world. Chrissy accidentally lights her ab*sive relative (nickname “daddy”)  on fire in self defense- in a trippy hell memory scape. in ‘long kiss goodnight- the girl with 2 personalities (Will/will the wise) was kidnapped and put in a trunk and escapes by jumping into a quarry. Not sure if that could relate to a flashback or something else? like in ‘don’t breath’ the older sibling who essentially was a surrogate parent to the younger sibling-mentions how their dad left the family, and her parent would throw her in the trunk for hours as a punishment.
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Mia Deserved Better: An Analysis of RE8's Themes/Symbolism
Foreword: I would like to thank @lepusrufus for posting about both Mia and Miranda, and at one point directly saying that Mia deserved better, which is a large part of what caused me to start examining her role in the canon story. Now, I will say that this post, like some of my previous explorations of Village (such as my attempt to determine Donna's age), will not be the best organized. My ADHD makes such things rather difficult for me. However, I have tried more than usual, and have broken up this "essay" into several distinct sections. Still, I am worried that my thoughts will not be as concise or coherent as they were inside my head.
Under read-more for length and spoilers for RE8: Village.
Introduction:
Village is, inarguably, about parenthood. Is it a horror game? Yes. Is it also science fiction? Also yes. But is it still, at its core, a story, and therefore contains imagery, symbolism, and themes? Yes. Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with Mia deserving better. My proposal is as follows: While Village is overall about parenthood, it is more about motherhood than fatherhood. Furthermore, Mia's background + actions from the previous game tie her story directly with Mother Miranda's, making their potential interactions massively important to the story... and could have served the theme beautifully. The missed potential in her involvement in the story is honestly a little bit absurd.
Now, let's examine each of the Four Lords + their sections, as the beginning of analyzing the game's theme.
Lady Dimitrescu + Castle:
Ah, perhaps the clearest (albeit unimportant) bits of theme within the whole game. We are immediately presented with another parent, with three daughters she loves very, very much. Initially they work as a team to capture Ethan, easily overpowering him. When they do split up, each still has dialogue regarding their family members. Each of the daughters expresses a desire to be like their mother/make their mother proud. Lady Dimitrescu herself gets very upset every time one of her daughters perishes, and delivers some important dialogue about this in her final confrontation with Ethan.
To paraphrase, Lady D says that Ethan has done something unforgiveable, caused damage that can never heal, and deserves to die before his daughter. That last part is interesting, in the sense that Lady D seems to believe that outlasting your own child is a fate so terrible that she would not wish it upon anyone, including the person who killed her daughters.
Throughout her dialogue and actions, Lady D serves as an important figure of a living mother. What do I mean by that? Well, the only other mothers we see in game are Mia and Miranda. The former doesn't show up until almost the end of the game (seeing as the "Mia" at the start is not actually the real Mia), while the latter does not have a living child, and her behavior has (presumably) changed quite a bit since that loss. As Ethan goes through Castle Dimitrescu, he watches (he causes) Lady D to go through what Miranda did all those decades ago. When we see her loss, when we experience her loss, it is something we connect with, even comparing it (as Lady D does) to Ethan's loss of Rose.
For the more visual side of symbolism, we can turn to Lady Dimitrescu herself. She is very tall, is visibly older than the majority of the Village cast, and has a fairly classic (old-school) motherly look. Everything about her reinforces her position as an example of a mother, especially when she's with her daughters and becomes such a strong figure of protection. Her height allows her to seem the caretaker for her children, even though they are scary/intimidating in their own right.
Donna Beneviento + Waterfall House:
Yes, the baby/fetus/monstrosity is part of this. No, it is not the only bit of thematic work in this section of the game.
To begin, you can find out that Donna is officially the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda. Her birth parents are dead, implied to be from especially tragic causes (more than is the norm when it comes to "orphan making"), and she has suffered greatly from it. We see that she has been seemingly neglected by Miranda, and is incredibly isolated. The tragedy of her loss, along with the consequences presented by it, are something to keep in mind further down the road, when we inevitably deal with Ethan's own death.
One of the consequences of the environment Donna was raised in is, arguably, her reliance on Angie. While interpretations of their exact relationship (aka how much control Donna actually has at any given point) vary, the two very clearly have something akin to a mother/daughter vibe. Alternatively an older sister/younger sister sort of thing. This shows in the way that Donna holds/carries Angie, as well as the contrast in their demeanors. Moreso, the fact that Donna gave a part of herself to create Angie is almost enough to make the symbolism nonnegotiable.
We also see that Donna has a strong understanding of family/family dynamics, through the way that she uses her powers to manipulate Ethan. She dissects his connections to Mia and Rose, taunts him with the lengths he's willing to go to save his child, then shows him a grotesque version of parenthood: The aforementioned fetus monster. Does the monster represent Ethan's fears, or Donna's?
What if the monster is how Donna sees herself, in some way, perhaps thinking that it's her fault her parents died? Bit of a stretch, but it's not a keystone of my theory, so I'm just throwing it out there. We could, however, go a step further and ask ourselves if Donna has noticed the way Miranda neglects her, and the fetus monster is how Donna thinks Miranda sees her. A baby, true, but grotesque, so terribly imperfect compared to her "real daughter" (Eva, obvs).
Regardless, the monster presents an ugly side of parenthood. It shows us the blood, the hunger (with the way it repeatedly attempts to swallow Ethan whole), the wailing. If Lady D shows us the love of parenthood, the bond, Donna in turn shows us the hate, the misery. Everything that one must endure to reap the rewards of family.
Lastly, we get one last bit of symbolism with Donna's death: We play a game with Angie. A childhood classic, hide and seek. Ethan chases her down repeatedly, stabbing away, seemingly only hurting the doll. But what happens when he kills Angie? It turns out that he killed Donna. You kill the child, you kill the parent. A reinforcement of the connection that comes with parenthood, along with another notch in Ethan's family-murdering belt (not saying that he's the "true antagonist" or anything, just keeping track for one of my later points).
Moreau + The Reservoir
Let's get the worst possibility out of the way: Moreau, weakest and sickest of the four lords, lives in a reservoir, where he is relatively safe. To defeat him, you have to drain the water, forcing him onto dry(ish) land. Paired with the main ideas of his section (which I will detail after this nightmare), one could theorize that he's meant to represent birth itself. Again, he's safe in his ("womb") water, and becomes vulnerable when he leaves (like a fragile newborn). Kinda gross, in my opinion, and also not a strong enough connection for me to care much about. It was merely an interesting (albeit horrifying) enough thought that I felt it warranted sharing.
Moving on to the big stuff with Moreau: He's a baby. Evidence: Whiny, has difficulty moving around, struggles to adapt to his growth, throws up a bunch, loves his mother very much, cries for his mother when he's in trouble, etc. Although Mother Miranda does not care for him, he clearly cares for her, and plays yet another role of an abandoned child (like Donna). Without Miranda there to protect him, he perishes terribly, crying out for someone who does not care to answer.
Hearing him cry out for Miranda, over and over, only for her to continue ignoring him is a key piece in the build-up to our confrontation between Ethan and Miranda. The game, in many ways, centers around the comparison between the two. In my humble opinion, Mia should have been involved in this comparison, as opposed to supplying the solution to the result of said comparison. Yes, I know that was a lot of words that don't mean much yet, but trust me, I'm getting there.
Heisenberg + The Factory
Ironically, of the four lords, Heisenberg is the most similar to Mother Miranda. In his massive factory, he is alone except for his numerous experiments, the results of decades of playing God. In comparison to Ethan + Mia, Heisenberg represents artificial parentage, or more accurately, the artificial creation of "life". While the others Lords also performed experiments, they used living subjects. Heisenberg instead chose to use corpses, which he then "brought back to life" with cybernetics + his powers, a somewhat futuristic version of Dr. Frankenstein.
Together, Miranda and him show a rotten side of parenthood (whereas Donna + Moreau showed us the uglier side of the children themselves). To put it simply, they are bad parents. They throw their "children"/experiments into the fray, uncaring, using them as pawns for their own greater gain. The most important part of this is that Heisenberg offers to "help" Ethan: By using Rose as a weapon. In his act of refusal, Ethan demonstrates one of several important distinctions between himself and Mother Miranda. Where she is willing to use her "children" (read: lives that she is responsible for) as tools, he is not.
Miscellaneous Symbolism/Imagery:
The old hag is one of my favorite parts of Village. She's seemingly nuts, has a crazy old lady laugh, wears bones that make soothing bone noises when she moves, and she draws lots of symbols in the dirt. If you look closely (I can provide screenshots if anyone desires, but it will take a bit of work to get them onto my computer), she's drawing one of the most iconic images in the titular village: The winged unborn. This symbol acts as the key you build up after every fight with a Lord, understandably called the Unborn Key (which turns into the Winged Unborn Key). Whether this counts as foreshadowing towards the hag's identity reveal is technically irrelevant, but I like to think it does.
In essence, you build up the key, this depiction of an infant, to progress in the game. The more wings it gains, the closer you are to your goal of rescuing your child.
The cadou itself is very clearly fetus-shaped. Furthermore, the only place within the human body that we know it ever gets implanted is in the "tummy" (thanks Moreau), aka roughly where someone's womb is/would be. Every infected person we see presumably had the Cadou implanted there (though I think it would be interesting if implanting it in different spots caused different mutations. of course, that is a discussion for another day). To become immortal, you have to "bear" a "child". Does it get more direct than that?
Mother Miranda gained her immortality in part for her grief at the loss of her child. She embodied the despair that Lady D spoke of, becoming an eternal source of anguish. Just as the loss of a child is a wound that lasts forever, so too would Miranda last forever (well, until Ethan comes along).
Mia is a loving mother, who puts up with the BSAA making her move across the world, deals with the complications of having a mold husband and mold baby, and has proved herself (see her section in RE7) to be an immense badass. Previously I had forgotten that, and even embarrassed myself in the comments of another person's post by implying she wasn't a tough, ass-kicking machine. Y'all remember feral Mia? People talk about "poor Ethan's arms", but sometimes we forget that Mia was one of the people who did a number on them. Furthermore, she's one of the only living people (from outside the village) to have any connections (pun intended) to Mother Miranda. They worked together, although possibly not directly, on Evelyn. If anyone in Village has a chance of really understanding Miranda's plight, or knowing the truth behind it, it would be Mia. Yet we don't see them interact a single time. Which leads me to the next section...
Conclusion On Theme + Missed Potential:
Okay, okay, so it's pretty obvious at this point that, as previously stated, the game's theme is parenthood. Every section has its symbolism, the story is very obviously about a man trying to rescue his daughter, etc, etc, but what's the point? Is there a lesson, or a more focused interpretation of the central theme? Let's take one last step back, and focus on something I've mentioned a few times now: The comparison between Ethan and Mother Miranda.
Recurring dialogue from Ethan, Alcina, and Mother Miranda all point towards the developers acknowledging that the characters are similar, but there's nowhere near as much conversation about it as I would like. Several times we have the antagonists ask Ethan how he's so willing to kill someone else's child, or prevent them from (essentially) doing what he's doing (aka saving his daughter). While Ethan responds with a mix of "well you started it" and "aghhh fuck-a-you, bitch", there's a much more solid, unspoken difference: Mother Miranda sends her underlings to kill, so that she may revive her daughter. Ethan kills (read: does the work himself) to get his daughter. The difference is much bigger, and more important, at the end of the game, when we realize just how far it goes. Ethan dies to save his daughter. Time and time again Mother Miranda has killed others for her work, but in the end she is stopped when someone willingly dies to stop her.
Where does Mia come in? Mia, the badass mother, the one who once worked alongside Mother Miranda, should have been the nail in the coffin. She is the one who survives, who lives on to raise Rose, she is the silent solution to Ethan's sacrifice. Miranda, you fool, what could you have accomplished if you had held onto your makeshift family? Through Mia (and Chris, to a lesser degree), his "loss" becomes a victory. There's a certain poetic justice that comes with Rose's full family being instrumental in saving her, when Miranda so readily spurned her own family.
Mia could have had an actual conversation with Miranda, their history giving the latter a reason to actually listen. I'm not saying that Miranda would have changed her mind/plans, but the conversation would have been a well-needed contrast to Ethan's "arggg what the fuck is happening, I only have two reactions to things. agg fuck you". Additionally, I feel that Mia (who was captured and had to endure who-knows-what) deserves the opportunity to be the one who points out Miranda's mistakes, who delivers the final "fuck you" to her. More than that, she's the one at the end who can say that hey, maybe she can understand some of what Miranda did. Was there anything her and Ethan wouldn't have done to save Rose? As much as Ethan is a foil to Miranda, Mia could (and should) have played a similar role.
When so much of the story and symbolism revolves around Miranda's experience as a mother, it only would have been fair to shine a light on her equivalent. Her better.
There's more I wanted to say/feel like I didn't properly get across, and I might add more to this at some point, but it's 5:40 AM right now, and I'm starting to feel like my brain is slowing down, so... Feel free to reblog/comment and add your own thoughts!
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softyoongiionly · 4 years
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Moonlight
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Just a night at the studio with Yoongi
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: fluff, smut (18+ only plz) I love yoongi so much omg
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: This can be read as a stand alone or as an extension of the FnD series. I am so in love with yoongi it’s insane and, I’ve missed him so much my goodness. I wrote this in like two hours so I really hope you like it ok bye :D
Warnings: explicit smut
“You look good.” You note simply from the pull-out couch in Yoongi’s studio, growing disinterested with the pile of work sitting on the table in front of you
Yoongi looks as though you’ve just shook his hand with a prank buzzer, his body subtly jolting in his desk chair.  
“Me? Why?”
His response makes you laugh as you prop your elbow on the arm of the couch, “You just do. I like watching you work, you look cool.”  
Yoongi is unable to help the new color present on his cheeks nor is able to help the flutter of desire in his gut.  
But all he does his smirk, glancing towards you and then back at his computer screen whilst his long fingers card through his black hair.
“Thanks.” He mutters but there is a renewed sense of light in his eyes as he hits enter on the keyboard.
The sound pulls you towards his fingers, which you have an unnatural obsession with.  
They look graceful settled on the black keys and yet agitated all at the same time.  
They are unsure of exactly where to go, unflexing and flexing against the plastic before Yoongi drags them slowly back to the surface of the desk.  
You’ve been here for hours.
He asked you to accompany him this morning and you eagerly obliged, wanting nothing more than to spend the day with him, even if you weren’t interacting.  
The blue light emanating from your phone lets you know what time it is and you have to admit, you’re a little shocked.
12:07am.
You hadn’t even remembered seeing 9 o’clock, how did time pass so quickly?
As if on cue, you yawn, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to avoid alerting Yoongi.
You’re too late.  
He sees you out of the corner of his eye and immediately takes out one of his headphones, his eyes holding a bit of regret.
“Yah, I’ve kept you here for so long haven’t I?” His voice is tender and warm, seeping in through the fabric of your hoodie and down into your skin, “I should take you home...I’m sorry jagi. I didn’t even realize how late it was.”
“No no-” You cut in, shaking your head, “You don’t have to be sorry at all- you've been working your ass off. I’m just happy you ask me to come, I’ve never gotten to see you work before.”
Yoongi’s heart skips a bit a little at how genuine you sound. He can’t understand why you’d want to just sit here with while he produces but, he’s touched regardless.
“You’ve been working hard too though.” He points out, nodding his head to the mountain of paper on the table, “I don’t want to keep you up all night.”
“I like staying up late.” You insist, crossing your legs and tucking them up on the futon, “Besides,” The tone of your voice lowers a bit as you feel quite shy about what you’re going to say next, “I don’t like sleeping without you...”
Yoongi is almost certain he made out what you said because the grin on his lips is involuntary. However, he decides to mess with you anyway.
“What was that last part?” He asks, brows raised playfully.
He spins slightly in his desk chair with his legs spread out in a way that shouldn’t be attractive.
But it absolutely is.
With a roll of your eyes, you slump against the futon, shoving your hands into your lap, “I said I don’t like sleeping without you.”  
His grin widens, his pretty teeth practically blinding you as he does.
“That shit is cute...” He chuckles more to himself than to you, his teeth securing themselves to his bottom lip, “You wanna stay with me then?”
Yoongi calling you cute makes you want to squeal like a schoolgirl but thankfully, you’re able to refrain.  
With an assured nod, you return his grin, “Yes please.” Your reply is delivered musically which causes him to chuckle again.
He shakes his head, practically exploding with fondness before using his fingers to gesture to the screen in front of him.
“I shouldn’t be too much longer, maybe like an hour or so, then we can go to bed.”
With that, your plans for the remainder of the evening are set in place and you decide that you’re going to put away your work for the night and scroll on your phone.  
You can only work on something for so long before your brain is fried.
Another hour or so passes and you find yourself growing sleepier and sleepier.  
However, your brain quickly finds itself attaching to the only thing in this room that could distract you from the heaviness in your lids:
Yoongi.
He’s dressed head to toe in black: black hair, black sweats, black hoodie and black vans.  
The only thing that stands out in terms of color are the many silver earrings adorning his ears.
The way he hunches over the desk, transfixed on the screen shouldn’t be sexy.
The way he manspreads in the chair shouldn’t be sexy.
The way he chews on the tip of his thumb shouldn’t be sexy.
But it is.  
Because he is.  
You find yourself growing uneasy with the lack of attention.
Not in an emotional way but, in another way entirely.
You can’t help but stare at him and wonder how the hell you got so lucky.  
It would be incredibly easy to stare at him all night, marveling at all of the little things that make him beautiful.
However, he doesn’t allow you to because his heighten sense of awareness has finally caught onto the fact that you’re staring at him.  
Turning towards you, he smirks and shakes his head playfully, “Yah- “ He jerks his chin at you, “What are you looking at?”
Shamelessly, you giggle and prop your chin up on the palm of your hand, “My insanely hot boyfriend...”
He waves you off, wrinkling his face in mock disgust, “Aish, stop all of that.”
“Why don’t you ever let me compliment you?” You protest, your voice heightening slightly, “If I want to say you’re hot, I’m going to say it- whether you like it or not.”
The apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color, his teeth finding purchase on his bottom lip as he forces his eyes to stay put on the screen, “I never said I didn’t like it...”
He smirks at the end of his confession, tapping his index finger against the space bar, letting the beat fill the room for the 1000th time.  
It sounds good so you honestly didn’t mind.
Getting to hear Yoongi’s music as it was being made was a privilege you did not take for granted so, you certainly didn’t mind if you had to hear it 1000 more times.  
A few more moments pass as the two of you settle back comfortable silence. You don’t refrain from stealing more glances of your boyfriend but, you decide to stop pestering him until his ready to call it a night.
Then it’s fair game.
During a stolen glance however, you notice him wincing a bit as he adjusts himself in his chair. Yoongi has a bad back that he frequently sees a chiropractor for but, it doesn’t stop him from hunching over for hours on end anyway.
“Is your back hurting?” You murmur, trying to keep the concern in your voice at a minimum.
He hates when you worry about him and, you expect him to tell you no but instead he brings a hand around his shoulder to rub at the likely tense muscles.  
“Yeah- it’s really sore. I need to get with a posture coach or something because, I’m sure sitting in this chair for hours on end only makes it worse.” He winces again, trying to straighten up in the rickety old desk chair.
You make a mental note of looking into buying him a new chair for Christmas; maybe one of those fancy gamer chairs with all the padding.
“Do you want me to rub it for you?”
Keeping your tone casual is easy enough but it doesn’t stop the excitement from brewing in the pit of your stomach. You and Yoongi often indulge in physical affection (and by often, you mean OFTEN) but it’s been a busy few weeks which has unfortunately lessened the amount of time you were able to spend wrapped up in one another. This has been starting to get to you of course but, the reasonable side of your brain tells you that it’s perfectly normal/healthy to go without sex for a few weeks. However, the less-logical (ie the ridiculously in love) part of your brain tends a signal to the entirety of your nervous system that makes you literally ache for your boyfriend.  
The way he’s been acting this evening is only worsening that ache.  
Besides, you don’t like the fact that he’s hurting so really massaging him would be a win/win scenario.  
A small smirk forms on his lips, as he putters around on his keyboard. He still doesn’t look at you but, the glint in his eyes tells you he likes the idea.
“I wouldn’t mind that - I just need like 15 more minutes.” He murmurs, straightening his back once more, his eyes showing a bit of discomfort.
“You don’t have to stop...” You offer, keeping your voice nice and sweet, “I can just sit behind you while you work.”
He licks his lips, shifting in his chair before finally glancing over at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips, “Is it my birthday or something? Why are you trying to spoil me?”
This makes you roll your eyes, “Because I’m in love with you and I want to make sure you feel good, is that alright? Why are you being so difficult?” You gripe, quite matter of factly.
Yoongi breaks out in a fit of rickety laughter, amused by your annoyance.  
The softie in him wants to love on you 24 hours a day but, the brat in him secretly gets a kick out of riling you up.
Plus, annoying you sometimes comes with an added bonus that fuels the less orthodox side of Yoongi’s desires.
“Come here then-” He says in the midst of his laughter, “My aching back needs you...”
You push yourself off of the futon, grumbling to yourself, “This is why I always say you’re like a cat because, I’m trying to love you and you’re asking me if I permit or something...”
Yoongi laughs again, shaking his head and before you can sit down, he’s turning in his chair and grabbing your hand. Despite you pretending to wiggle your hand out of his grip, he interlocks his fingers with yours and places a kiss to the back of your hand.
“I love you.”
These words have been spoken a thousand times but it doesn’t stop your soul from ascending to the tippy top of heaven anyway.
You don’t think you’ll ever tire of him being soft for you.
“Whatever.” You pout, pretending to jerk your hand away once more which causes him to flash that brilliant gummy smile of his. “Just make your stupid, beautiful music, pretend I’m not even here...”
He kisses his teeth and shakes his head, “That’s literally impossible but I’ll try.”
His words may be sarcastic and subtle but you know very well that they have 100 different meanings.
That’s kind of your favorite thing about him.
It’s the fact that he can say so much whilst using his words sparingly. Yoongi has a way of letting you know how he feels without pouring his heart out. Although, there are plenty of times when he does that too and, you love it all the same. But, he’s the type of person to love in secret and, it’s not because he’s ashamed or emotionally unavailable; it’s because he understands how precious love really is and you’re the only one he wants to be vulnerable with.  
You bite your lip to avoid smiling and as you try to move away, Yoongi jerks your hand towards his body gently, his pretty chestnut eyes widening a bit.
“Say it back.” He insists, his voice softening to a specific tone that seems to rot your resolve from the inside out.  
You can’t tell if he knows what he’s doing or if he is unaware he’s using the same voice he uses when he begs for you but either way: you give him what he wants.
“I love you too.”
This satisfies him beyond belief, his grin returning whilst he tugs you down to his level, his sweet lips awaiting yours.
Despite what he wants to do, Yoongi just pecks at your mouth a few times before releasing your hand.
He knows if he kisses you the way he wants to, it will be game over so, thankfully he manages to control himself.  
“This track is called Moonlight right?” You inquire gently, as you take your seat behind him, doing your best to find the right position that won’t limit his movement.  
He grins to himself, delighting in the fact that you remembered something he’s only told you once.
“Yeah.” He clicks over his keyboard, trying to prepare himself for your touch. He takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering a bit when he feels your palms smooth over his aching back.
He knows it might sound excessive but it really isn’t his fault.
The way you touch him has devasting effects on his ability to think clearly. He knows being in love intensifies things yes but, it’s the way you seem to know his body, the way you seem to treasure him and the way you seem to seek out the areas of his skin that are the most sensitive that drives him up the wall.  
Yoongi has a feeling that you’d be able to touch anyone this way but, he counts every single lucky star in the sky that he’s the one you want to touch.  
“Do you like it so far?” You lower your voice to the precipice of a whisper, not wanting to disturb him too much.
As he readies his reply, you begin gently massaging the parts of his back that you know bother him the most: his shoulder blade, the center of his spine and base of his neck. The close proximity allows you to take in the way your boyfriend smells: like clean laundry and the summer berries. You resist the urge to take a bite out of him as he replies.
“I do but it needs a lot of work still.” He realizes how quick he is to downplay his progress and he amends his response in order to give himself some credit, “I got a lot done today though and I’m excited to see where this track goes.”
His answer makes you happy as it’s not often Yoongi outwardly expresses excitement towards his current projects.  
“Do you like it?” He asks you, keeping his tone casual as he turns down the volume slightly, wanting to hear you clearly.
With a kiss to the back of his neck, you smile, “Honestly? I’m already in love with it. It has such a cool vibe. It’s very old school but also very modern at the same time, the lo-fi elements are sending me. I can’t wait to hear the vocals when you’re done with the lyrics.”
Yoongi grins, his features swimming with pride at your compliments. He is addicted to your praise in normal situations but hearing you compliment what he is most passionate about sends him into another world.
“Thank you.” He mumbles warmly, relaxing further into your touch, “I should be starting on vocals tomorrow I think. I don’t have the second verse done yet, but I think once I have everything recorded, it will give me more inspiration.”
You’re working at the tenderness surrounding his shoulder, not pressing too hard but insuring that your fingers are gently working all of the knots that have formed within his muscles. You wonder if it’s helping him at all but the way he sighs and presses against your hands tells you all you need to know. Before you’re able to continue the conversation, your boyfriend chuckles in front of you, almost in disbelief.
“What?” You prod, smiling at the sound of his laughter.
“Nothing it’s just-” He leans back against his chair fully causing you to remove your hands from him for moment, “if you had told 15 year old me that one day I would be working on my music, in a real studio, while the most beautiful girl in the world rubs my back for me, I would have told you to fuck off and stop messing with me.”
Your smile broadens as you lean forward, draping your arms around the back of the chair and resting them on your boyfriend’s chest. You place a kiss on his temple which makes him smile, his hands coming up to rest on top of yours.
“I wish 15 year old you didn’t have to endure so much but,” You kiss his cheek now, your heart filling with joy as his gums once again make an appearance, “I’m glad you’ve let me prove him wrong.”
He turns slightly, his lips brushing against your whilst he does and rather than say anything, he just places a soft kiss onto your mouth.
Despite the awkward angle, you reciprocate, allowing your lips to melt against his, kissing him slowly but deliberately. He tucks his lips between yours, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, a shaky breath escaping his nose. The hands he placed over yours intertwining messily with your fingers, squeezing softly whilst he cranes his neck to continue kissing you. Freeing one of your hands, you trail your fingers up the side of his throat, eliciting a shiver from your boyfriend as you cup his cheek.
It’s not an ideal angle to start making out but something about his throat and chest being exposed to you, makes it 10 times hotter. The beat of his song is still playing softly in the background until his hand suddenly moves from yours to hit the space bar. He doesn’t stop kissing you all the while, only seeking to deepen the motions between your lips. You allow your fingers to run up the side of his neck again as they tuck themselves into his hair, scratching tenderly at his scalp. Yoongi seems to sigh hopelessly into your mouth, unable to resist how weak you make him.  
You want to feel his tongue but just as you trace yours against the inside of his lips, he pulls away, a bit of shared saliva still connecting the two of you.
“Let’s go to bed...” He whispers shakily and you know very well what he means by that.
Seconds later, your back is pressed against the sheets covering the futon, your boyfriend quickly descending over you, his lips eagerly seeking yours again.  
He resumes his earlier motions with slightly more enthusiasm, sucking and licking into your mouth, his hips pressing down against yours. You can feel how hard he’s gotten, his erection straining painfully against the denim of his jeans. He doesn’t seem to mind though, his focus is on kissing you right now.  
You allow your hands to travel to the hem of his t-shirt, slipping your fingers beneath the material to explore the velvety texture of his skin. Yoongi’s hips and stomach are extremely sensitive, he’s told you before that touching him there is almost immediately going to get him hard. Given the fact that he’s already hard, he has no choice but to twitch around in his jeans while you touch him.  
In order to distract himself from the possibility of cumming in his pants, he pulls away from your lips momentarily to sit back on his knees. He stares down at you with an intensity he only reserves for performing and fucking, which to Yoongi, they are often one in the same. He pulls his t-shirt off hastily, throwing it behind him and revealing the beautiful expanse of his body to you. The sight of him makes you reach up with grabby hands, wanting nothing more than to feel his weight on you again. Instead of coming back down however, he merely smirks and shakes his head.
“Uh uh, it’s your turn...” He murmurs, his voice deep with the heavy arousal weighing on his tongue.  
You pout but otherwise oblige, pulling off the hoodie you’re wearing to reveal the black sports bra you had thrown on before coming to meet him here.  
Its nothing fancy or intentionally erotic but it gets Yoongi going anyway, merely because it’s your body.
He makes a small grunt in the back of his throat as he rushes back with his lips. He begins kissing over the swell of your breasts, biting and sucking as he does, his eyes shutting.
“How are you so fucking beautiful hm? Did they make you in a lab or something?” He accuses in his raspy voice, grinning when he hears you giggle.
“Yes actually they did- I've been meaning to tell you for awhile now but, I wasn’t sure how you’d react...”
He bites down harder on you playfully, sucking the skin between his teeth. The delicious sting causes a sharp intake of breath on your part and the sound makes Yoongi even harder. Licking over the purple mark he made, he pulls back to admire his work. With wet lips and dark eyes he looks up at you, a smirk on his mouth,
“I can see why you like giving me these so much...” He raps, his tongue poking out to lick at his bottom lip, “I want you covered in me now.”
His proclamation makes you sick with lust and you’re quick to pull him back over your completely, capturing his lips in a kiss once more.  
Yoongi is eager to reciprocate, his technique a lot sloppier now as the need to be inside of you slowly over takes him.
With one hand, he finds the button of his jeans and pops it open, sighing in relief as his dick is allowed the room it needs. Your hand is quick to cover his, searching for his swollen length mindlessly, desperate to touch him.
“Can I fuck you?” He whispers, nudging his nose on the tip of yours, “Please?”
You nod, kissing at his lips still, your breath uneven, “Yes please.”
The giggle that leaves your mouth shouldn’t spur him on but it does and after finally riding. both you and him of the rest of your clothes, Yoongi is lining himself at your entrance.  
He pushes inside of you, letting another shaky sigh out of his mouth before covering your body with his once more.  
It’s a slow but powerful fuck, leaving no room for the outside world.  
He kisses your face, your neck, your chest, your breasts and tells you how much he loves you.  
He rubs on your clit when you tell him how close you are, encouraging you to let go.
“Ah there it is- is that good jagi? Is it good? Are you gonna cum for me?” He whispers, his face tensing up with pleasure as you contract around him, “You’re squeezing me so tight, you’re doing so good. Just cum baby, I’ll cum too...I just wanna watch you.”
With choppy breath, you arch your back, your hands clawing at his free arm desperately, clining onto him as your orgasm begins crashing over you.
“Yoongi, I’m gonna cum- fu-fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna cum, oh god...please don’t stop.” You moan softly and the sweetness in your voice drives Yoongi crazy, his pace against your clit increasing. He stares at you, a small but fucked out smile on his lips,
“Oh I’ll never stop sweetheart, not until you cum those pretty brains out...”
His words send you over the edge, your toes curling against the mattress as you whisper his name once again.  
The sight of you cumming is too much for him and although he normally cums inside of you, your post-orgasm haze has a different plan.
“Cum in my mouth.” You plead, tugging at his hips.
Yoongi swallows thickly, nearly blowing his load right then and there, “Really?”
“Yes.” You urge, tugging his hips again, “Please? I want to taste you. Remember you said you wanted me covered in you- cover me. Cover my face please.”
Yoongi’s brain literally short-circuits as he tries his best to process how fucking hot you’re being, his dick twitching inside of you.
“Anything you want remember baby? I’ll give you anything you want...” He grunts, his black hair sticking to his forehead with sweat as he pulls out of you, both of you pained by the loss of contact. He is quick to scoot up the bed until his soaking dick is positioned near your mouth, “I’m going to cum so fucking hard for you- are you gonna swallow it all?”
You nod, wrapping your hand around the length of him, licking at the slit, tasting the mixture of you and him together.  
“Until my stomach is full of you.” You promise before sucking him into your mouth
Yoongi finally breaks, whimpering for you as he usually does, his body jerking as the pleasure overtakes him,
“Holy fucking shit-” He whimpers again, his eyes rolling back as he gives you rope after rope of his release.
It’s a lot but you don’t care, you want every last drop of him. Your hand coaxes out the rest of his cum, your mind high off the taste of your boyfriend; there really is nothing better than this.
Yoongi tucks his fingers into your hair tenderly, grounding himself but also because he wants to touch you.
“Oh my god look at you ah- that's my fucking girl isn't it? You’re so pretty down there you know that? Made me cum so good.”
His voice is pitchy and fucked out and his praise makes you wet all over again, despite your need for a break.  
Immediately Yoongi leans down, kissing you with everything he has, licking at your mouth as if he wants a taste of himself.  
The kissing lasts for another minute or so before Yoongi lays down beside you, pulling you onto his chest.  
You burrow into him, soothing yourself with his unsteady heartbeat as he holds you.
Yoongi smiles down at you, despite the fact that you aren’t looking at him, taking a moment to thank all of his lucky stars once again.
You place a kiss to his chest before turning to look at him, rubbing a thumb over his reddened cheek, “I love you.”
He kisses your thumb, “I love you too.”  
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dennou-translations · 4 years
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Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 1
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Stories end one day once they begin. With that in mind, one might deem clinging to themselves, to other people or to anything else in the world as a little foolish. Same for how fiercely their heart was burning. Or how it cried for these things. It would all disappear like a dream eventually. One could think that even just putting in some effort was meaningless. Yet it had started.
Born through some sort of cue, anyone would breathe. Open their eyes. Learn to let out their voice. Figure how to walk. Come to understand what love was. Receive affection. Find out that it was a sickness, and either stop or give continuity to it. Nobody was taught how to cure it. There were also those who never even once accepted it from anyone.
Whatever the case, no one was allowed to stop for as long as they were part of this story, of this world. While living, people would be continuously be involved with death. But if morning came, night would also follow. Hunger would abate and sleep would invite one to the floor. Even after losing love, people craved for it. With its eyes cast down to forfeit, the world gradually emitted a new shine. Manifestation of beauty and hideous collapses were in progress at the same time. There was no eternity, but things went on. The story would continue. The world would go round. Even if it would meet its end one day.
Even without you there, morning would come.
   Blue eyes opened.
Purple flower petals fluttered gently in front of her eyes and passed her. They touched her as if to cause tickles, and then disappeared. The illusions of the past that had been surfacing dissipated slowly.
Her wild beast self and her named self. All of the past dissolved into reality, dragged back into the present. Here, there was neither a beast nor the man that it used to call “Major”.
The boat lethargically moved through a large river, an Auto-Memories Doll on it. The rowing of the boater, who wore a big hat, was quite something. For it to cause a chance meeting between her and her past, that had to be a good boater.
The girl, Violet – Violet Evergarden – was looking for someone.
Whenever she opened her eyes, she would wind up doing it. Looking for the person who had given her as much as he could give and then vanished. Looking for the person that she had hurt as much as she could hurt and not managed to protect.
Of course, he was nowhere in sight. There was no way he would be in such a place. She knew it. However, she would end up searching. Her most beloved lord had supposedly died long ago, yet she would find herself searching for him. Even an apparition would do; she only wanted to see him at least one more time.
The world he was gone from had livened up anew and its colors were vibrant. Violet had to live in said world. She had to live in this fresh hell. She could no longer receive orders. Neither could she chase after his back. There were limits to what she could do.
It was easy for people to tell her to move on. However, that was a great difficulty for her. Violet had been told to live. Just as ordered, without attempting to die, she was living while burdened with this difficulty.
“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”
At that time, Violet was still not a full-fledged human.
   The Rose and the Auto-Memories Doll
   “Wait,” I prayed.
The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.
——Wait for me.
It was hard to breathe. Flowers from the jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision. Their beauty erased everything that could be seen. Yet they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.
——Please, wait for me.
Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration.
I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.
——Wait.
If there was one thing I knew, it was that I wanted her to take me away from here.
“Violet, wait.”
That was all.
——So please, wait up; don’t leave me behind.
   It was spring. When it came to the four seasons, spring was surely the best one.
I first met her at a time when lilac blossoms were in bloom. Lightly, nimbly, they fluttered down. It was a season where purple flower petals danced in the sky. Spring. A season of sprouting.
What color came to people’s minds when they talked about spring, I wondered. It was probably a different one depending on where each of them lived. Pink cheery blossoms were scattered around higher lands. I had heard that bougainvillea flowers dyed a certain region in pure white. Apparently, the sight of green stems stretching out from within the snow thaw was the face of spring in some places. As for me, when the topic was spring, it had to be jacaranda trees.
The Jacaranda River was located among the mountains of the d’Arthur Region at southwest of the continent. It was a large river surrounded by steep mountains that rose like giants. Bearing the same name, jacaranda trees were planted along said river as if to enclose it, and during the flowering seasons, the color of the water surface would turn violet.
Ordinary trees had their branches, fruits and leaves pointed downward, but jacaranda flowers grew pointing upward, almost like a hand holding a bouquet. Just one of those flowering trees was already a feast to the eyes, so it was simply magnificent when there were many of them together. The sky was blue; the earth was a cloud of purple. Even God would easily let out a sigh when looking down at this scene from the heavens.
There were countless small communities in the vicinities of the Jacaranda River, and in order to go from the outside to a piece of land that had a settlement on it, one basically had to move by boat. Hence why it was so easy for the people who lived in this neighborhood to become sailors as a job. The pay, in contrast, was not so rewarding, but not to the point of making anyone go hungry. People coming from other places would gather into crowds to see the jacaranda trees during springtime and there was demand from the locals even outside of the busy seasons. So I would continue on my job here forever and never lose it.
In this world, inside this little story of mine, I had an encounter with her.
“Excuse me; I heard that there is a village beyond this point. Is it possible to cross the river?”
A foreign object appeared in that tiny world of mine.
“Hello. Yes, I go there often. This is how much it costs and the payment is in advance.”
Her name would eventually roar throughout the business, but at this time, she was a ghostwriter girl who had barely started to travel the world.
“I do not mind. It will be my pleasure.”
“We usually put the names of the customers on an account book. May I have your name?”
That was how she and I met.
“It is Violet Evergarden.”
To be honest, she was the kind of person who could cause people’s time to stop in fascination for a brief moment. This ferry port was crowded in spring. There were many other people around, so of course, I could spot several beautiful men and women who showed up for sightseeing, but she was unlike any of them. No matter what background was behind her, she would only be a strange object in it. Be it rainy or sunny days, winter or spring days. Regardless of whatever the world was clad in, one would find their eyes going towards her. Beauty was not the only reason for it. Her scent was different from that of other living things.
——It’s similar to the feeling I got... when seeing a deer in the mountains for the first time.
Right, a wild beast. She was like a beautiful wild beast. If such a stunning beast appeared in front of anyone’s eyes all of a sudden, they would surely stare fixatedly at it. This one had blue eyes and its mane was golden.
“Please treat me well.”
“Ah, yes.”
Her voice was clear, her gestures elegant.
“Is there anything wrong with my appearance?”
“No, no; not at all. Nothing at all.”
She was full of mysteries that other people would not be allowed to touch so easily.
Her outfit might also be at fault. She was well-dressed in a way that one wouldn’t see around this area. A Prussian-blue jacket, a white ribbon-tie dress and cocoa-brown boots that could be deemed as brand-new. An emerald brooch shone radiantly over the ribbon tie. I had but one toy similar to her when I was a child. That young woman was literally just like a doll. On top of it, even the name I asked for matched her lovely looks, to the point I felt like humming without thinking.
“Ms. ‘Violet Evergarden’. All... right. Now, if you please.”
It was a good name. Like an actor’s. I had never watched a play or anything of the sort, though.
“Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”
Once the name was written down and the fare was received, my work began.
The customers would be hesitant when getting on the boat regardless of whether they were men or women, but Violet differed from them. She got on it without a sound, quickly sat down and postured herself in waiting for me to start rowing.
Whatever thoughts she was engrossed in, she quietly closed her eyes after taking a glance at the scattering jacaranda flowers. It was a day of warm sunlight and pleasant wind, so she might have become sleepy. The comfortable silence continued for a while. I thought about leaving her alone, but perhaps because the petals that rode on the wind and flew about had tickled her cheeks, she opened her blue eyes. The scenery of earlier was not supposed to be any different, yet she looked left and right as if searching for someone.
“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”
As I asked so, Violet moved her neck with a twitch like a small animal and looked my way. After a short moment, the answer came in a low voice with an “it is nothing”. She seemed a bit dispirited.
She looked like an uncommunicative person, so I did think she might not go along with a boater’s talk, but wanting a change in mood, I kept on speaking, “Miss, you are in luck. Now is the best time to view them. The jacarandas.”
“Is that so?”
She was kind of a weird girl. Her manner of speech was weak in emotion.
“For me, this is the time to make money. When this period passes, people stop coming to this remote region. This is my main occupation, but many people do boat rowing as a side-job too. When spring is over, they do farming. Miss... it does not seem that you are here for sightseeing. Is it for work?”
“Yes.”
“Is it a job related to boats?”
“No.”
“My, wrong guess. You don’t get scared of the swaying, so I thought you were used to it.”
“Is that how it looks?”
After we spoke that much, Violet finally stopped searching and moved her gaze towards me.
“You do. It feels like you have no fears.”
Silence drifted about. Rather than ignoring me, she seemed to be having difficulty choosing her words.
Until this mysterious beauty spoke up, I was smoothly cutting the surface of the water with the oar. Maybe due to her baggage being heavy, the propelling was slower than I had predicted. She was a slim young woman no matter how I looked at her, so her luggage was probably the one to blame for the rowing’s bad flow. Come to think of it, a low screeching sound ensued whenever she moved. She might have some sort of manufactured item on her.
“You are right. I have been with the navy before, so...”
Oops, the conversation was back.
“Is your family from the military?”
“No, just me. My military service record was ultimately the army. But before the army... the person that I served was a navy officer.”
The reply was covered in enigmas. Her profile was cold. The way she talked was perfectly fitting of a mysterious beauty.
I thought this strange client was a little scary, but let out my curiosity just a bit more. I had never gone outside of these lands, so I loved chatting with the customers.
“I can’t believe it. To think that someone like you used to be a soldier...”
She had no idea what the description “like you” represented. This impression showed through just slightly in her facial expression.
I rode with many people, so I sort of had my own theories about them. I felt like students from renowned schools would make this into a laughingstock if I were to call it a “philosophy”, but... people communicated the actual state of their emotions through the blinking of their eyes, the way they opened their mouths, the highs and lows of their voices and other such things.
They were extremely scarce in this girl, but I could perceive them. Seriously. I was an expert at “observing” others.
“Do you get troubled when people coax you or something like that?”
As I asked out of curiosity, Violet once again had a question mark over her face, but after a while, she blinked as if to say, “I have arrived to an answer for the inquiry” and gave me an unexpected reply. “In my travels, I am sometimes invited by people to become their bodyguard after saving them. I am an Auto-Memories Doll, so I decline them politely,” she said.
I was asking in a romantic sense, so that could not be considered an answer to my question.
What a strange doll. What an odd girl.
——My life would be wonderful if I were born with these looks.
On first meetings, one’s eyes would go to people’s physical appearance first and foremost. Everyone had a preferred type of face, right? I accidentally ended up comparing hers to mine.
Perhaps as I was always wearing a big straw hat so that my skin wouldn’t be damaged by sunburns, my hair was squashed. Even if I took off the hat, the platinum-blond color could get me mistaken for a grizzly old man. Other girls of the same age as me sparkled so much, and yet, just what was I? Being in the same space as them was embarrassing... No, let’s leave what the eyes could see aside. I should serve the customer; serve the customer.
“Beautiful here, isn’t it? These are jacaranda flowers.”
“‘Jacaranda’...”
“Ah, they sell fruits on that boat over there. Want to buy any?”
“No.”
“Do I talk too much? Ah, look! That bird is very rare. Can you tell it has the color of emeralds? It’s called ‘gemstone bird’. The feathers they drop are my treasures.”
“It is beautiful.”
“I think so too! I might get along well with you. What do you usually do to pass the time?”
During my and Violet’s short boat-riding trip, she told me the following:
She worked for a certain postal company from a military nation in the far south named Leidenschaftlich.
She was a newbie Auto-Memories Doll there.
Through her current commission, it was her first time coming to these lands.
Before arriving here, she drove two groups of bandits away.
She was told by her boss to bring him local specialties of this area as souvenir.
That was it. She had many stories about her boss.
“So the president and employees are close in your company, huh.”
“Is that so... No, you are right. Our company has just barely been built and there are few employees. If the number of unit members is small, the distance between them and the commander naturally grows shorter. Yes, to someone like me, whose origins are unknown, he is a compassionate person.”
“You don’t have to talk like that about yourself...”
“It is true. I am an orphan and do not know where I was born.”
I added “orphan” to the information about Violet that I had inside me. The things that had happened to this person dictated the air about her, I thought. Was that the reason why she seemed somewhat lonely?
“But now I have people who look after me.”
“Your boss.”
“Yes. And a kind elderly couple as well.”
“Aah, good for you. Being alone is sad. If you have someone to be with, that’s better. So you used to be in the military but you’re not a soldier anymore now that the war ended. You got yourself a new job and family, is what you’re saying.”
“Yes.”
“You’re sailing smoothly!”
“No.”
Even though I expressly tried to conclude it with good vibes, it was denied.
“I have many problems.” There was a slight creasing between Violet’s eyebrows. “I don’t yet know if I have the aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll... I was given a lady’s education and I have studied languages and other such things, but it is hard to say whether or not I can make effective use of that. I have retained the fighting power... but I am in a state where I do not know how to use it.” The tone of her voice faded a little at the end.
“How are you working like that now?” I asked purely out of concern. After all, she was an Auto-Memories Doll.
I came across all sorts of clients, but she was my first Auto-Memories Doll one. It was a job in which people used ghostwriting as their weapon and rushed around the world. I heard there were many women in that occupation, but I never thought a girl as old as me would be doing it. She could very well be writing for a princess from some other country while I was here, rowing a boat.
“Letters have standard sentences. In most cases, if we add the desired content to those standard sentences that we have memorized, they will take form.”
“Hm, hm, I see.”
“However, it cannot be said that letter you wished to write so much to the point of requesting an Auto-Memories Doll was achieved with this. If we cannot correspond to the expectations, we are failures as tools. Therefore, we are once entrusted with the request’s contents, suggest a few types of details, choose the best ones and accept additional demands, should there be any... then repeat. There are also times when my abilities are not enough...”
“You mean contents you can’t write?”
“Any sort of letter can be shaped to a certain extent as long as there is time. It is a combination, after all. However, I am not well-versed in the art of conversation that entertains people. I am told that I am ‘boring’ or ‘unfriendly’ and am often dismissed by the clients.”
She somewhat convinced me. I was terribly sorry for that. But it might indeed be difficult for someone to feel like composing a letter in a fun way with her. If they were hiring her for serious contents, that was a different story.
“Moreover, we normally have to understand the circumstances that our clients are in... Let’s see; it is similar to, for example, approaching someone who is injured. I am supposed to write such letters, but I do not yet understand what a good letter is. It is hard for me to say that I can manage it... In the end, I do not know if I have aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I am always asking myself whether or not it is all right for me to work in these conditions.”
Perhaps due to thinking a tad too hard, Violet said something incomprehensible – that “it would be much more efficient if our company’s president became an Auto-Memories Doll”. Wasn’t a president supposed to take care of the management?
But, surely... for Violet to be saying something like that about him, he had to be the kind of person who excelled at being considerate.
With the flow of the conversation, I tried asking what I was most interested in, “W-What do you do about love letters and the like?”
“Love letters?”
“Yes.”
It was a field of great concern for someone who had never had any sort of relation with it since birth.
“That is also a combination. You throw in verses from famous poems or songs... Classic romance novels are valuable reference materials as have quite a lot of rhetoric.”
As I received an answer much more direct than I had imagined, almost like boiled vegetables with no taste but their own, my shoulders dropped. I had expected her to reply that she used her own love experiences as reference, but Violet was an extremely serious bookworm. I was a bit ashamed of myself.
I then started the conversation over, “Must be hard that your first job is kind of all about stuff you’re not good at.”
As I said so, Violet dropped her gaze and spoke, “No, we have a bright female Auto-Memories Doll who is the complete opposite of me, so she is put in charge of cases like the ones I just mentioned. In contrast, a large number of transcription cases that are not letters but instead invoices and contract documents, or that require fast writing, come to me. Describing exactly what I see is my field of expertise.”
“I see; it’s a matter of having the right person in the right place. Your boss’s administration is good. So you’ve been managing it one way or another until now.”
“Yes. But this is my first business trip for ghostwriting.”
“F-First!” I accidentally let out a loud voice.
“Yes, my first.”
This girl was on her first ghostwriting business trip. I was sending her on a boat for that. It somewhat felt like I was involved with an awfully grandiose story, which made my heart race.
“Gets you nervous, doesn’t it?” I sought for agreement, but the one feeling nervous was me. “Will you be okay?”
But Violet did not seem to be okay.
“On ghostwriting business trips, the task is to finish it on the spot, and you must respond immediately. I cannot use the means that I have been using until now, such as taking time to write or securing time by cutting sleep and eating short.”
That may have been the reason for her aspect of weariness. Still, I was shocked. When we, boaters, did not want to take our boats out, we would refuse rides even if there were clients. It was a job where we had to have customers, but we decided the discretion on our own. I did not let the ones with a bad attitude on my boat ever again even if they asked. Above all, not eating was impossible. No one could row a boat if they were hungry or sleepy.
“You have to eat... Isn’t that the most important? And you have to sleep too!”
“The most important is accomplishing my missions.”
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I could somewhat understand why this girl’s boss was so concerned about her. Since she was an ex-soldier, she was unable to get used to a peaceful life, and the job she had earned required a variety of emotions that did not fit her, so she was competing with knowledge and effort to make up for it. Talk about dangerous.
“But taking care of your health is also part of work.”
Violet cast down her golden eyelashes. What I said probably made her think.
“As I thought, I was better off as a soldier,” she whispered this bit by bit, out of the blue. As she caressed her emerald brooch, she fixed on it a stare that seemed to be burning.
“How come?”
“When I was in the military... all I had to do was chase after one person and protect him. I was always searching for an adult to follow.”
How was I supposed to describe this girl?
“I found myself the best master of all and used to live my life serving him.”
Rather than sincere, she was too candid. Almost like, yes, a child who knew nothing.
“It would have been great if it were like that forever.”
That was why, most likely...
“So he was someone important to you.”
...she honestly thought as much.
“More than anything.”
Her words probably held no lies.
“That’s good.”
She truly was currently apart from someone important to her and losing heart.
“But the war ended and everything changed. Things are different now. I have been separated from my master, and I must journey around the world all by myself with words and pens as my weapons.”
My country was a prosperous land that had not involved itself with the Continental War. Ever since I was born, I had never once enlisted. I had nothing to respond to her statements. That even though I had nosily asked so many questions – what a person I was.
“Erm... hum, can I say something?”
I wanted to cheer her up. But I had no idea how.
As I faltered, Violet shook her head. “I am sorry...”
She started apologizing for some reason, making me even more confused.
“I spoke too much. Forgive me for... tainting your ears.”
“Why? You didn’t do that at all.”
“I am told not to talk in too much detail about my history.”
“I-Isn’t it okay, though?”
“I must do as told.”
“But—”
“My deepest apologies. I said things that could disrupt you while you are in the middle of work.”
“B-But—”
“My deepest apologies.”
“Isn’t it okay?! You and I are just a customer and boater who can’t see each other anywhere but here!” again, I spoke loudly on accident.
I became a bit flustered. After all, she was apologizing. Even though she was just answering my insistent questions. Even though she was burdened with so much that she wound up unintentionally spilling it to a stranger like me.
“After you get out of this boat, we have no way of knowing what will happen to each other. So please never mind it.”
It was because I asked so persistently that the things she had been holding overflowed.
“It’s all good.”
There was something I could say exactly because I was a boater of a remote region.
“It’s all right,” I affirmed strongly, wanting to do something about those wavering eyes and her aspect of uncertainty. I might have been huffing fiercely too.
Violet looked at me with a gaze that looked like she had just woken up from a dream. And then she nodded with a meek face. “Yes.” Even though she had just nodded once, after a few tens of seconds later, she nodded again while saying, “Yes.”
After that, we eventually reached the shore without talking much.
From what I had heard, Violet’s patron was Mr. Lockhart, an elderly man famous for being rich even within his community. He was already quite old, so it was said that he did not have long.
“You go straight down the road. You should be able to see the village after a while, and Mr. Lockhart’s mansion is the one on highest ground. It has a white roof. The neighbor houses are all extravagant too, so don’t mistake it.”
“All right.”
“On the way back! If you also feel like going back together, look for me!”
“Yes, Mr. Valentine.”
   Perhaps because I had asked for it, Violet actually did look for and called out to me as her ride for the way back. Maybe as I had listened to her life story, it kind of did not feel like we were strangers anymore.
After I intimidated and dispersed the other boatmen trying to take her as their customer, I asked, “How was the job? Did it go well?”
“I do not know.”
Silence.
“At first, he yelled at me, then crumpled the letters I wrote into balls one after another and tossed them away.”
“That’s horrible.”
“But once I presented improvement suggestions twenty-three times, he said he had ‘been defeated by my persistence’ and accepted the ghostwriting.”
“Ms. Violet, you actually have a strong competitive spirit, don’t you?”
Later on, according to what I had heard from people of his neighborhood, Mr. Lockhart was a mean geezer who, apparently high-strung from fighting against a disease, would hire people in order to bully them into quitting. My goodness. He was the type of person whom I would not want to associate myself with even once, so I guessed the fact that Violet would not have to deal with him anymore after just this one time was a blessing in disguise.
However, a few months thereafter...
   “I will be ghostwriting a letter to Mr. Lockhart’s grandchild for a few months.”
...she showed up again holding a travel bag in one hand and reunited with me. Our interactions continued from that point onward.
I did not know what to name my involvement with Violet. We were not friends. We only ever met due to occupational matters and I never saw Violet other than when she came over for work.
“How did things go after that? Is business going well? We’re in the off season now, so I’m pretty free.”
“It seems that people of the postal industry are seeking not to take work away from those of the same line of business. We, Auto-Memories Dolls, usually receive work from the area surrounding our companies, but the number of business trips is increasing. However, it is hard to say if we are on track. Our president looks over his account book every day.”
As we were both from the hospitality businesses, we had worries in common. So I was also happy.
“My wallet gets really empty in the off season too. Well, I can live just fine with the amount I save up in spring... but I have to find a different job when I want something pricey.”
“A different job. Mr. Valentine, for how many years have you been a boater?”
I reminded myself of my ordinary life’s number of years and work history inside my head.
“Erm, I’ve been rowing for two years. But before that, I was something like a handyman, working in an orchard, taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen.”
“That is a wide variety.”
“My family’s poor. Dad and Mom are gambling addicts too... We’re so poor that we can’t survive without all of us working. I was eight when they told me I had to get a job because our finances weren’t going well.”
“That is commendable for someone so young.”
“No, Ms. Violet, you’re probably as old as me, right? Eh, how old are you?”
   Perhaps she and I really did have a karmic connection, as I was always working whenever she came to these lands.
“Ms. Violet! If it isn’t Ms. Violet...!”
“Mr. Valentine. I was looking for you.”
“M-Me?”
“Yes. You told me to ask for you the first time we rode. I did this last time as well. Will you take out your boat today?”
“Of course! C-Can I ask again? You were looking for me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so happy! Same for me! I wonder every day if you’re coming anytime soon... Now, now, customer! Please get onto the boat! Go ahead, go ahead. I have tons of things I want to tell you! I see~! So you were looking for me~!”
“Yes, I was.”
   The air about her was like that of a tensely stretched thread, yet as time went by, she became able to show different facial expressions.
“You can’t smile?”
“No. I cannot say I have complaints about it, but... I receive such opinions from the clients quite frequently. For now, I am making physical attempts on it. Mr. Lockhart often lifts my cheeks. He tells me to practice. Yet... it does not work very well.”
“That old man is teaching you weird stuff... It’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone pick their cheeks up to form a smile.”
“Mr. Valentine... you excel at smiling. Do you have any trick for it?”
“Eh~, I’m just being carefree.”
“That is difficult for me.”
“Hm~, but that’s a secret of success.”
“‘Secret of success’...”
“This place is a dock, after all. For a kid like me to be working among men, I at least have to be good at acting friendly, or else I can’t survive.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. That’s why this is something I’ve ingrained in me. Ms. Violet, you’re an ex-soldier, aren’t you? You couldn’t be carefree in the battlefield, so there is no helping that, right?”
“But... that has nothing to do with my clients.”
“Hm~, trying to be better is never too much, but from my standpoint as someone who is also in the hospitality business, I don’t think that is completely indispensable. We give the clients what they seek and they pay the fee. It is essentially this kind of equal relationship. You do not have to abase yourself more than necessary. Customers naturally come to people that do a fine job even if they are unsociable.”
“Is that so...?”
“It is. Someone who instead is friendly but can’t do the job at all is a problem. The fact that you became Mr. Lockhart’s purveyor means you write good letters. It seems he is very particular about his own matters. Y’know, you’re fit for people like that.”
“If so, that is good.”
“Don’t make that face. Shall I lift your cheeks?”
   The things we had to talk about with each other whenever we met increased exactly because we were far apart from one another.
“Speaking of which, you are looking for someone, right? Did you find any clues?”
Our respective circumstances slipped in and out of sight.
“No...”
“But Auto-Memories Dolls have to go to all sorts of places, so there is still hope.”
“Yes. I also think that is the good point of being an Auto-Memories Doll.”
“That so...? Ms. Violet, did you choose to be an Auto-Memories Doll to search for someone?”
“No, perhaps I should say it is wishful thinking. I do not truly believe that I can find him. However...”
By that time, I had realized what the brooch was.
“...I can keep on living while thinking ‘what if’. That is the kind of job it is.”
That it was something related to the important person she had mentioned.
“Is that so...?” while speaking with a laidback voice, I incidentally thought about what that would be in my case.
What was I attached to enough that I would be this obsessed over it?
“You’re the opposite of me. I’m waiting for my family here.”
——If I do have any of that, it’d be the boat my dad used to ride.
“Do you live far away from each other?”
——The house that we all lived in together.
“Huuum... How should I put it? I was sent out to a different town for domestic service when I was eight... and I was completely convinced that my parents and older brother were living here.”
None of what I was attached to was things that could remain in my grasp. It was this land itself.
“When I came back, there was only our house. My family wasn’t in it.”
It was not something I could walk around with.
“They might’ve moved somewhere else... because they hated life here.”
Violet did not frown or make a puzzled face. She just quietly lent me an ear.
“I ran away from the place where I was doing domestic service, so I guess I missed their notice. I think they are troubled now. That they are looking for me. I also want them to come pick me up, but they never do...”
I myself understood. I knew I was saying odd stuff. Weird, wasn’t it? I was aware. If she called me crazy, it would be just the expected.
“Mr. Valentine, should you not be looking for them?”
That question gouged out just a little bit of the weakest part of my heart. Yes, just a little. It pierced me exactly because the person who asked it had stood up from her suffering and was running onward.
“If I leave this place, it’d be a problem...”
But Violet did not say I was wrong at all.
“It be a problem if, by any chance, my brother – no, either Dad or Mom decided to come back...”
She merely whispered a single sentence: “understood”.
   Before I realized, I had started looking for her at the dock.
——Is she coming today? Not yet? She might come tomorrow.
   “It’s been a while...! Has anything changed? We got to meet again because Mr. Lockhart is still alive, huh.”
“It has. Just that the personnel at my workplace increased again. Mr. Lockhart’s voice is so lively when he is angry that one would not imagine he has a disease. Mr. Valentine, what about you...?”
“Y’see, I’ve been going to study lately! I was influenced by you. I can read easy words, but I never went to school, so I’m bad at writing.”
“I could not write either. However, it should be all right as long as you practice.”
“I don’t have enough paper to practice writing, so I’ve been writing on the ground with a stick these days.”
“If you wish, please use these.”
“Eh, what are those? T-They look expensive. I can’t.”
“I also received paper and pens from someone just like this and began my studies. You can.”
“N-No can do! I can’t get something like that from my customer...!”
“You can.”
   As the seasons passed, as the days and months went by, her aspect of anxiousness from when we first met diminished. She steadily built up a record of accomplishments as an Auto-Memories Doll.
“That umbrella is cute. It looks good with your clothes.”
“It is a gift. I also... find it adorable.”
“Is that a passionate request for a relationship from your client?”
“No, that is not it. This is a display of gratitude for my work from Mr. Oscar, the novelist...”
Much faster than I had imagined, yet surely, she was elegantly climbing up that brilliant stairway.
“Heeh, a novelist. I don’t know much about him, but that’s amazing. You might be working at some royal palace one of these days!”
“I have.”
“Eh?”
“I have. I wrote love letters on behalf of a princess from a country named Drossel.”
   She became someone well-known around the neighborhood in no time.
How should I describe her vigor? Was “forceful enough to knock down birds in flight” too weird? She was an irresistible force that people were drawn to en masse. Somehow or other, she made a great leap in a blink of life.
Her popularity attracted more popularity, and it was amazing that her work had developed so much. There were such people at the dock too, but this could not be achieved without effort. But it did not look like there were ambitions or dreams to Violet’s efforts. Dream chasers had different eyes than ordinary people. She... her blue eyes were as quiet as a midwinter sea no matter in what season I peeked into them.
Her gaze made it seem like she was looking at me from a different world. As if she were staring up at everything from the bottom of the ocean. Yes, it was that kind of look.
She was there, yet was not. Her blue eyes were mirrors that made me feel like I was looking at myself before realizing it, when I was supposed to be looking at her. She herself was also this sort of person, with an attitude as if her mind was elsewhere.
Her fame... if I were to use a metaphor, she was a broken doll who got praised as a result of single-mindedly working on repeat. That was how it seemed in my eyes. Awful way of saying it, huh? But the Violet Evergarden I had first met had been hurt. She was just a hurt girl.
So I was honestly surprised. Because, at first, she didn’t look at all like a girl who would rush up into Auto-Memories Doll stardom from that point. Yes, she did not.
That might be due to the way we met. If I had met the current Violet instead, I would surely have thought, “Such a full-fledged Auto-Memories Doll”. But although she was indeed an eccentric girl, she did not look like that to me. To me... To me, she looked like nothing but a girl from the same generation as myself, stagnated in a world that she was tossed into. An uneasy girl, who had just started working. The type that definitely could be found anywhere all around the world.
One that was also similar to me. From that day, at that time.
“Dad, Mom, Big Bro, where are you?”
She was like me back when I was at a loss as I decided to live by myself.
With the passing years, Violet Evergarden had bloomed to the world into a marvelous lady before I even knew. Just as her name suggested, she was a girl who had blossomed beautifully.
No matter what, I ended up comparing her with myself... Even though we were reuniting after a long while, even though I was happy, I felt too sad for some reason and wound up saying lots of lame things.
“Ms. Violet... you kind of became an unreachable person all of a sudden, huh.”
It was because, even though I had supposedly lived just like her in the same four seasons and the same time that she had rushed through, I was still an insignificant boater.
“My company is still based in Leidenschaftlich, just as before.”
“No, I wasn’t talking in terms of physical distance. It’s... a spiritual thing.”
Silence.
“You really are admirable. You know, when I think that you’re doing such an amazing job while I’m here, boating without a care in the world... it’s like...”
“Mr. Valentine, you are also working every day.”
“It’s not like boating is a bad job or anything.”
I also didn’t think there was high or low when it came to occupations. Yet I would end up comparing them.
“I quite enjoy it. Rowing the boat, that is. But somehow... like... when I look at you, Ms. Violet... I think of myself. I wonder if I’m okay like this. Because surely, there should be something else I want to do.”
Silence.
“If only I could change myself too...”
“Mr. Valentine.”
“Yes?”
“I felt that we have become closer than back when we first met.”
“Eh?”
I was in shock. Because I thought she wasn’t the kind of person to say something like that.
What did people call this?
“It became a habit for me to look for you immediately around here.”
Those words that were almost as if someone was nestling close to you.
“As you have let me on countless times, you have been recorded within me.”
No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that she didn’t say those things – she couldn’t say them. After all, Violet had told me when we first met. That she couldn’t write letters that felt like approaching someone who was injured.
“I see.”
She had been worried that she should leave it to someone else; that she wasn’t qualified.
“Have we become far apart?”
Yet she had become able to do it. By practicing a lot. Involving herself with people.
“Mr. Valentine, you always find me as well. Whenever I arrive here, instantly.”
This girl had become able to do what she was worst at.
“Yep.”
But even now, it didn’t change that she would touch her emerald brooch when she was uncertain.
“Have we...”
“We haven’t...! Sorry. I’m sure I could spot you even if we passed each other in a different city... Sorry, it’s just... wrong. I was wrong...”
Violet had grown up.
“Sorry...”
That day, when we first met, she had been fretting about being able to write letters that could draw close to someone. Having nurtured her heart through many people and a lot of time, she was now even able to say these kinds of things. This girl was properly fighting against the fate that she had been granted.
Aah, I wanted to be like Violet Evergarden.
I wanted to be like this girl. I really did.
I was still young. I could start over anywhere else. But I did not do that. I couldn’t throw away my family. I couldn’t. Ever thought about throwing your family away?
I... I had never.
Because it was family. People I shared my blood with. We were supposed to be together, right? Parents protecting their children and children yearning for their parents – that was the norm, wasn’t it? When I looked around me, that was what people were doing. Was it all lies?
Why, why didn’t my family manage to be normal? Why was normal so difficult for me? Because I was stupid?
I had gone to a stranger’s place when I was eight years old because my parents had told me to. I went with them as my parents said, “Go with this person to help them out; you’ll get payment for it”. I had the feeling that my parents had been smiling. My brother was the only one who had a serious look – no, he was making a face like he was about to cry as he pulled the sleeve of my clothes over and over. He used to be such a scary brother who was quick to hit me on the head and scold me, but only at that time did he exhaust himself from crying.
“You can’t, okay? Listen to what your Big Bro says. You can’t go to that place,” he had told me.
I remember being extremely perplexed. I only had the impression that my brother was always angry and hungry. He never behaved like he cherished me or anything of the sort. Honestly, I used to hate him.
“But they’ll be angry if I don’t do as they say.”
So I had shaken off the hands that were grasping my sleeve. The expression my brother had back then – those eyes looked like everything in front of him had transformed into rubble.
My brother had said one last time with a tearful voice, “Hey, you can’t; please... don’t go. I won’t hit you anymore, ‘kay? ‘Kay?”
Even so, I had not agreed. Because I was afraid that my parents would get mad.
I hadn’t seen my brother since. Thinking back on it now, he might have actually had affection for me.
As for my parents, had that been something they couldn’t avoid? I still didn’t know. But to put it bluntly, they had sold me.
It was not something so unusual. This area was remote, rural and still rooted in such customs. That might still be my case even now. I was living in a land I had once left, disguised so that no one would know it was me. It would be terrible if I were sold by someone again. So I had made myself up. An unknown boy who had showed up out of nowhere. An outsider who had arrived before anyone knew it. That was me.
I was a huge moron who couldn’t throw away her family even though they had thrown me away.
I ran away from the place I had been sold to after not even three days and, starting out as a beggar, I had saved up a sum in order to go back home. I did anything, from working at an orchard to taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen. Anything, as long as I could earn money.
I had been sold off to a pretty far-away place, so it took me a year to come back. I was making merry when returned home. About things being back to how they were before. About how my life had twisted a bit but it was back to how it used to be. My mother would surely be happy. She’d tell me I did a good job coming back home.
So, that was why... I even now vividly remembered the feeling of astonishment I had when I opened the door and the house was deserted.
“Dad, Mom, Big Bro,” I had whispered intermittently into the empty house.
There was no reply.
——Aah, so homes that people no longer live in also die, I thought.
I was the child from that day even now, standing stock-still.
   “The hijacking case of the transcontinental train... The one on this picture looks like that girl, but she isn’t, right?”
While reading the newspaper that the customers had left behind as usual, I was relaxing at the dock.
The seasons had passed once again and autumn was about to end. Although the years were growing farther from the spring in which I had first met Violet, yet not a single thing had changed.
“Excuse me, are you doing boat rides?”
“Ah, yes. Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”
Today, too, I was rowing a boat. That was all.
I would just wake up in the morning, eat, get the boat out, let the customers onto it, do my job, go back home and sleep. A repetition of that. Without anything special happening, without any wonderful encounters or opportunities, I was merely earning enough to eat and protecting my home. Sometimes, I would find myself thinking that I was the only one living this kind of daily life. I had been working since I was little, so I didn’t know how to play very well, and I had no one who was close to me other than Violet.
Even though Violet wasn’t my friend.
“Mr. Boater. Is there anywhere around here where I can have a meal?”
“There is, once you get on land. It might be unlike anything that someone from the big city such as yourself would eat, though... Now, then, be careful.”
Right. Just as she had once said, our relationship was of a boater and her customer, and we would not meet unless she came here for ghostwriting. She was an amazing person who roamed all around the globe and lived in a world completely different from mine.
While returning to the former shore after sending off the customer, I was thinking to myself. Was my life okay like this? I was here today yet again, without attempting to go to where the person that I wanted to be close to was. Even if I used the entirety of the notebook that Violet had given me, I could not report this to her. Because I couldn’t leave my hometown.
   “Mr. Valentine. Hello; it has been a while.”
It was a very beautiful morning that day. Illuminated by the Sun as it emerged from the clouds, drops of the rain that had fallen on the previous night were emitting a transparent shine. The person who had appeared in that stunning world was still a foreign body.
Fall just before winter approached. Violet Evergarden was not wearing her usual doll outfit, instead dressed in black. Black hat, black cape over a black dress, and while the suitcase, umbrella and emerald brooch were the same as ever, everything was pitch-black other than them. She was a black-clad Auto-Memories Doll.
As the wind blew, her clothes seemed to flutter in an unnatural manner on her left arm. The arm was gone. Only one of her arms was missing. She had told me somewhere along the way that they were prosthetics, but when seeing her figure without one of them like this, I felt the loss of it even though it was unrelated to me.
“He-llo... Uh, what’s up with... hum, your arm, your clothes and all that?”
It was almost like that kind of thing.
“You came just a while ago, right? The intervals are really close...”
Almost like someone’s funeral. I had never been to one, but I had observed it from the outside before.
Apparently, my questions had her at loss for a bit. After showing a thinkative countenance as from where to start explaining, Violet put her baggage on the ground and pointed at her left arm with her right hand.
“My arm broke. It is being repaired.”
Her artificial doll-like gestures that I had grown fond of before I realized and her clear voice were now turning into the main causes that made my heart restless.
“I can use the right one without any issues. It is inconvenient, but this will be solved eventually.”
I asked the reason behind it and if she had been involved in some sort of accident. Violet did not tell me the details of her situation. She gave a rare, faint smile, looking troubled.
“In the meantime we had not seen each other, truly, many things happened... However, today is not about me but about someone else. I was told he was famous around here, but have you not heard? He has passed away.”
There was only one person whose funeral Violet would be coming to this land for, dressed in mourning clothes. Her ghostwriting patron, Mr. Lockhart. That old man who people said was going to die, yet had always stayed alive.
“I... I don’t have much interaction with the townspeople... We’ve had heavy rain the past few days... and when I pushed myself to get the boat out, I caught a cold... so I shut myself at home... and didn’t see any of my boatmen friends...”
I came up with reasons one after another as if to give an excuse. Even though I hadn’t done anything bad.
“It seems the funeral is already over. The people from that household contacted me, so I came in a hurry.”
“To visit his... grave?”
“That as well, but I also ghostwrote his will on his own request... and it seems there was a dispute among his relatives when the will was opened. They said they want me to confirm if there was really no mistake in the contents...”
I wondered what in the will had aroused the general criticism. Violet did not tell me, as she could not reveal the contents of her contractor’s letters, but when it came to problems that happened after a wealthy elder died, it had to be the inheritance.
“It simply means that the will is just like Mr. Lockhart. This is all I can say.”
So the mean geezer was mean until the end and then left.
“S-So, Ms. Violet, you’re about to get yourself involved in that big quarrel?”
“Yes.”
“Could it be it’s your last ride on this boat...?”
“Mr. Valentine, if you are still here by then, I shall go back with you as well.”
“I-I’ll be. I won’t take any other customers today and I’ll be waiting for you on the other side of the river!”
“I think I will take very long.”
“That’s okay... I mean—!”
——I won’t get to see you anymore, right?
There was a knot in my throat because of the sadness, so I could not say these words. But I believed they had reached Violet. She said “all right” after a pause.
And so, I sent Violet to the household’s side of the shore. As I had declared, I did not take on other customers, only waited for Violet.
She did say that a lot had happened to her, but if the essence of what she had experienced, which she could only express with that much, was enough for her to lose an arm, then surely there should still be a commotion around her right now. Poor Violet. Honestly, Mr. Lockhart was a client who gave Violet trouble from start to finish.
Still, if it weren’t for that troublesome client, Violet and I wouldn’t have met. We also wouldn’t have had that accumulation of interaction time as the seasons passed.
“You should’ve lived longer,” I whispered selfishly. My pathetic voice was mixed with whining.
I was a horrible person.
To think I would complain about the time that someone I didn’t even know so well should die. But now, my heart felt like it would break. My composure was gone. That was why my tongue was so nasty.
I did predict that we would become unable to see each other one day like this. I did, yet I had thought it would be a gentler end. More different, more...
Yes, one day. One day, just as I had suddenly become unable to see my parents and brother, Violet would stop coming here. But I couldn’t leave this place, so I would keep standing at the dock, thinking that there might be a day where she would come by.
From the viewpoint of other people, they may think this was sad, but to me, it was an ending that still had salvation and hope to it...
I hadn’t imagined that she herself would tell me this was probably the last time. Besides, to think that my chest would feel so tight just because I was no longer going to see a customer that I only saw every now and then.
I was an idiot.
Yes, I wasn’t good in the head. I was sensitive to the subtleties of other people’s emotions despite not bringing them to life in me. Yet I was insensitive when it came to myself, so I was only able to notice things when they started hurting like this.
“I-I...”
Surely, I was all on my own because I was this much of a fool.
“I’m gonna be alone...” the words overflowed from be in a natural manner.
——Be quiet. Don’t cry. It’s like the way you’d cry as a kid.
“Ugh... fu-uh...”
I was happy. That Violet had hired me and would come to ride on my boat.
“I don’t want that... Again... I’ll be...”
I was waiting here. For someone to remember me and come see me. For them to look for me. I was living by expecting nothing but that.
Same for Violet. She was someone from my generation, who had been tossed into the world all of a sudden. She wanted to search for her important person, for him to find her – she was that kind of girl. But she was doing her best to live. She really did her best, without losing to the unreasonableness of life.
As she grew, I saw her shining as an Auto-Memories Doll almost as if it were happening to a different version of myself. The fact she was doing her best was an encouragement. I thought of her as a comrade. Even though we weren’t friends, it felt like we were.
“Big Bro... when are you coming back...”
I was by myself here. So, before I noticed, my encounter with that girl had become salvation in my life. Because we were the same. Because we were both waiting for people who wouldn’t return.
It was okay even if it were just a few times per year. She had remembered and looked for me. To me, just that fact was, aah, so very...
   “I am terribly sorry for being so late.”
I had departed with the boat in the morning, and it was past evening when the black-clad Auto-Memories Doll came back. She did not seem tired, but her voice was on the husky side, so she probably had to talk a lot.
“Good job... How did it go?”
I wanted to make it so that she wouldn’t find out that I had been crying, yet my voice was nasal and clearly an after-cry one. Amidst the sunset, Violet looked straight at me.
“Everything is well. Mr. Valentine, are you all right?”
I did not know, so I fell silent.
——I’ll let you on the boat now. And then, it’ll be the end. You won’t come see me anymore. I don’t know if that’s okay, or if I’m okay with it.
“Give me your hand; come on carefully. This is the time when the sunset and the evening are mixed, after all.”
As if to gloss over it, I conducted myself as merely a professional. Violet’s sense of balance was a bit off, perhaps because she only had her right arm. I helped her until she was seated, and then started rowing.
“It is my first time seeing the landscape at this hour.”
I nodded at Violet’s muttering.
Evening at the Jacaranda River was a sight that looked like a scarlet Sun had jumped onto the water surface. Both the sky and the river would paint themselves red, dyed in darkness before one could take notice. The birds cried as if to announce that it was already time to go home, the boatmen pulling out of work and returning to their houses. It was that kind of hour, that kind of scene.
As winter was about to come around, the trees were bare and most of the fallen leaves over the water had even their colors rusting away as well. There was nothing more fitting of a farewell day than such loneliness.
“Mr. Valentine, thank you very much for being here for me until today.”
Violet’s voice sounded softer than usual. Come to think of it, I felt that the air around her had somewhat changed. I had thought it was because of the mourning attire, but looking at her again like this now, I figured that was not it. Would it be an exaggeration to say that it was as if an evil spirit had been removed from her? She was different from before.
“From the start, for now, for always... thank you very much.”
Yes, back then, when we first met, Violet Evergarden was a beautiful wild beast that had been tossed into the world. She was nervous, wary of everything, unstable and acted kind of cold.
“It might be strange of me to be saying this to someone I only ever see here. But to me, Mr. Valentine, the fact that you let me ride on your boat whenever I come by...”
Yet, within a long time, she had gained warmth and transformed from a beast-like girl into an exquisite young woman.
“I... surely, yes, was ‘happy’ about it. I can now finally say so. Even if it is something trivial for you. I... can only meet you here, so when you said that I could talk to you, I was ‘happy’.”
——It’s over.
The scenery was too solitary. My chest tightened at the words she spoke within it.
“I was definitely not suited to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I did not have the gentleness to speak my mind without thinking as you do. However, you affirmed that someone like me had her good points.”
——It’s really over.
“In a world full of denial, it is difficult to affirm anything.”
——This is the end.
“That is what I think. There is much denial in this world. Affirming is difficult. But you did it for me.”
——Please, don’t say any more of these goodbye-like words.
“Thank you very much.”
——Don’t.
“I have one more thing I want to tell you.”
——I don’t want to hear them anymore.
“Mr. Valentine, I found the person I was looking for.”
——Stop.
“I found him. I discovered that there are many people in the world who are looking for someone they can no longer see.”
——My time with you is going on as you speak.
“I was told by many that it was foolish of me to wait for him.”
——My time with you is melting away.
“However, I followed my heart, which I did not even know I had.”
——It’s melting away like the foam on the surface of the water.
“Mr. Valentine, I support you always waiting here for someone from here onwards as well. Even if, by any chance, you decide to stop waiting and venture out of here, I will support this too.”
——I liked this purity of yours, as if you’re reflecting the other person.
“I assert your kindness. Because you asserted mine.”
——By sustaining you, I was able to sustain myself.
I let out a scream. Yes, I was bawling. For me to be crying while rowing, I was disqualified as a boater. But Violet did not judge me.
After wiping my tears with the sleeves of my clothes several times, I began rowing again. I had only ever done anything while crying when I was a child.
“Dad, Mom, Big Bro.”
The time when I went searching, calling each of them, in my hometown by the Jacaranda River felt like it had been just a few days ago.
“Violet, don’t forget me,” I said as I cried, looking like an idiot.
“Yes. Mr. Valentine, you said this would be the last time, but I will pay a visit if I receive any jobs to do nearby.”
“That’s a lie...! Countless of my customers have said that... but nobody... nobody... nobody cares about...”
“I support you. This is no lie.”
“It is... It’s just flattery... I-I was... happy that you never forgot about me... but you soon will...”
The boat arrived at the dock almost as if colliding with it. The impact caused the tears to fall from my eyes like rain.
“Sorry; just go.”
I crouched on top of the boat. Aah, I had to help Violet get down. Night was coming. I should not be stalling in a place like this.
I was just a boater and this girl was just my customer. We would end here. It was over.
“I learned that having someone to accept you is important.”
I had to wipe my tears and see her off.
“Even if you cannot see them all the time. Mr. Valentine, if I was a bother to you, please know this.”
I felt the sensation of the only arm that Violet now had touching my back. I turned away from it.
We had met each other in this severe world. A world that I hated. I also hated my life.
But, aah, my God. Even when such cruel sorrow attacked me like that...
“There is an Auto-Memories Doll somewhere in the world who accepts you. Please be aware of this.”
——...the world is beautiful.
As she added a “that is not a lie”, I felt like I would end up waiting for her who knows how many years with just that sentence, so I found myself smiling. My foolishness and Violet’s kindness – those two things made me both cry and laugh.
At the end, we joined hands like little kids. I helped her out of the boat and did not let go after that.
   “So it’s not a lie? You won’t forget me?”
“It is not. I will not. I have good memory.”
“Some-Someday...”
“Yes.”
“If I become someone capable of going to see you someday, will you accept me? Wouldn’t I be a bother? I... Y-Y’know, I... actually wanted to be friends with you. Not just a boater and her customer...”
“Yes, I will.”
“But I can’t right away. I have a family... I don’t, but I do.”
“Yes.”
“But, one day... one day...”
“Yes, one day.”
“Surely, on a really nice day for us to reunite...”
“Yes, it will definitely be a good day.”
“Let’s meet again one day, Violet Evergarden.”
   After that, just as Violet had somehow changed, so did I. Just as snow covered the autumn lands, the silver make-up melted down before anyone realized and young leaves sprouted from it, I also changed.
It was during spring that this was decisive. As expected, for one to start something, it had to be in spring.
Purple flower petals scattered down on the Jacaranda River. I was simply looking at the scenery in a daze. The harbor was crowded with customers. Even though I was a boater and there were several customers wanting a ride, I was using the boat only for myself, not letting anyone hop in. Without paying any attention to my fellow boatmen, who stared at me with strange looks, I merely observed the entirety of this landscape, so as to sear it into my eyes.
My beautiful hometown. A hometown of which I only had memories sad enough to pierce through my chest. A hometown where no one would look for me anymore. A hometown that surely none of them would ever come back to.
The fact that Violet would not come this year gave me a sensation akin to waking up from a dream. As if my hazy head was clearing up, such change came to me.
——Let’s throw it away.
It was then that I thought at last.
——I’ll throw my family away.
That was what I thought.
The reason why I was clinging to this place was that my family might come back someday. I had to return, I had to stay here, or else I was sure they would be troubled if any of them came home. Because it had troubled me. It had made me cry. So I should be here, I thought.
Even though they didn’t give me love, I loved my family.
——But I’ll throw it away.
I was finally able to think like that. As I did so, tears poured down.
I had taken a long time to arrive to this decision, which was a merciless one, and I was a horrible person who surely wouldn’t die a peaceful death and would, as expected, keep on living like this, without being loved by anybody.
But I was going to do it. I was going to throw my family away.
After all, even if the people who were supposed to love me did not, she existed in my world. Somewhere in this world, there was an Auto-Memories Doll who accepted me. So instead of waiting for someone who would never come home, I should take a leap. Because I wasn’t an eight-year-old kid anymore and could go anywhere.
I rowed my boat. Not for anyone else. For the sake of going out into my new journey.
What should I do? When I thought about what to do first, as expected, that girl surfaced in the depths of my mind. The girl I had seen off while praying, “Wait for me”.
The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.
It was okay for me to go looking for them from now. It was okay.
——Wait for me.
My chest was quivering. Starting life anew was common place, but now that it was my turn, I was shaking. It was hard to breathe from the fear and expectations. Flowers from jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision, and although their beauty erased everything that could be seen, they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.
What I wished to see – the purple I wanted to meet once again – was no longer this one.
——Please, wait for me.
Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration. I didn’t know anything anymore. The feeling I had wasted so much of my life and the feeling that I had finally gotten to this point were in conflict.
I didn’t want to abandon my family. I didn’t.
But the truth is that I’d always wanted to. Aah, I was such an idiot, such a confusing one.
That was fine. I didn’t understand myself very well either. I didn’t. I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.
But there was just one thing.
——Wait.
One thing I knew. When it came to things I knew, there was but one.
That I felt so refreshed I shouted to the world without minding anyone, “Violet, wait for me!”
I was going to see her, so I wished she wouldn’t forget me. That was it.
That was all.
   Blue eyes opened.
The train had arrived in the city. While the passengers got off in a hurry, a blue-eyed girl was neatly smoothing down the wrinkles on her ribbon-tie dress before gracefully descending to the platform.
She did not act as if looking for someone or show any signs of losing her way. Her figure as she simply walked straight to her destination was almost like that of a mechanical doll. Surely, she would not do things such as be surprised by something or run towards someone upon finding them. That was how she looked.
The perfectly lady-like girl, however, went completely still in the middle of the crowded platform all of a sudden. Her blue eyes had detected something. Upon finding that person, she blinked as if surprised, and then bolted into a run. The hem of her skirt spread out in disarray. The ribbons keeping her golden hair in place swayed.
As she had started running, the other person also pushed through the crowd and came closer. Three, five, ten steps. She, who had broken into a dash, halted exactly in front of him, yet the other did not.
“Violet, welcome home.”
He held her in his arms and buried his face into her shoulder. Her beloved one, whom she had not seen in a while, tickled her with his nose as he sniffed the scent of her hair. He must have been at the platform for a long time. His cold clothes and his body heat conveyed his desire to see her.
“Major, I am back. I did not know you would come pick me up.”
Having changed from a beast into a person, from a person into a girl and then into someone’s biggest love, Violet accepted the embrace of the other person without resistance.
“I am happy.”
Something gradually rushed through her body. It was the sensation that “joy”, “love” and other such feelings had turned into light and were running from the tips of her toenails to the top of her head.
The young woman who used not to know emotions was now in love.
One could spot other charming lovers here and there. Therefore, even as the Army Colonel of this country, Leidenschaftlich, and an Auto-Memories Doll were hugging each other, no one paid them any mind. The intimate figures of both those two and the other lovers were a common sight. If one were to unravel their history, this was a strange pair born through twists and turns, but in everyday life, it was just a part of the scenery.
“Violet. Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say anything?”
Due to Gilbert hugging her tightly, Violet’s remark was processed simply as an incomprehensible something, but she did not care.
“No, it was nothing much. I have returned, Major.”
“Sorry. Yeah, welcome back, Violet... Did I tell you I wanted to see you?”
“Yes, just now.”
“I heard from Hodgins about when you were scheduled to come back... Tired, are you? I have a carriage waiting so that we can hurry home.”
“Major, what about work...?”
“I came after finishing it. I had to force myself but I have no plans more important than you.”
“Then, can we be together for a little bit as the carriage rides?”
“If you’re okay with it, I can send you to the Evergarden house after we have a meal.”
Gilbert took Violet’s eyes going round as a sign of acceptance. He took Violet’s bag in her stead and, in a natural manner, found himself grasping the hand that had become empty. As he held her hand, Violet moved her gaze fleetingly. She started blinking again upon looking at the two joined hands.
“Major, Major.”
Subsequent to their reunion during the hijacking case of the transcontinental train, the two had confirmed their feelings after the CH Postal Company attack incident and started a new, albeit awkward, relationship.
“What is it?”
“I almost look like a child.”
She indeed was like a child in love.
“Because we’re holding hands?”
“Yes; I would never get lost here, in Leidenschaftlich. You did use to hold my hand before, but... now...”
It was a bit lacking for an army colonel who was past his thirties, but if one were to say that it was fitting of modest people such as these two, it indeed was.
“I’d like you to keep in mind that lovers also hold hands, Violet.”
“Is that so...? Indeed, looking around, there are many people doing this.”
“You had told me you understood... so I perceived us as lovers; was I wrong?”
“N-Not at all.”
“Then, in order to strengthen that perception... let’s change the way we’re holding hands.”
Just by the hold changing into one in which their fingers intertwined, Violet went from just a girl being taken away to a lady being escorted. Violet blinked again. Ever since their romance had come to fruition, each of Violet’s reactions entertained Gilbert, to which he let show a smile that he could not hold back.
“I’ll be happy if, one day, you take my hand without saying anything when I hold out my arm.”
“I need training, Major.”
“Kukuh... That so? Then let’s do it, Violet.”
As the novice couple left the platform, yet another train arrived.
While Violet and Gilbert walked amidst the crowd, a different pair passed right by their side. The young woman was quite a lustrous, beautiful person, whom one could tell was of noble birth. The individual walking with a hand rested on her shoulder as if to protect her from the crowd was an androgynous beauty with unusual silver hair.
Cut short, his platinum-blond hair bore the kind of exquisiteness that looked like it would make chiming sounds as he walked. His jacket, shirt and pants were finely tailored ones. He no longer resembled at all the navigator who used to row a boat in the past.
Feeling as if an old acquaintance had passed by, Valentine halted for a moment.
“What is the matter, Rose?”
Upon being called, Valentine immediately resumed walking with a “nothing”. It was not permissible to stop in the general area of a packed entrance.
“Madam... I had this feeling that the girl I am looking for was here.”
Looking for someone all by themselves. Those two had this point in common.
“Violet Evergarden? That’s right; you will be living as an Auto-Memories Doll in the same city as her. It would not be strange if she did pass by. You will meet that girl someday. And one day – one day, you might also get to see the older brother that you told me about. After all, miracles happen every day.”
However, they had still not realized that the gears of their fates were not yet aligned.
Rose Valentine gave a smile with a “yes, Madam”. “To me, Madam, you are the miracle.”
“Why, my rose does not say such things.”
Rose’s flank was hit rather strongly, but although it actually hurt, the smile did not falter. This was also one of his secrets to success.
“Speaking of which, the Auto-Memories Doll school was truly difficult. I am grateful to Madam for sending me to it, though...”
“Oh, but you have come back as a gentleman who has become able to escort me naturally like this, so it has brought results.”
Rose’s amber eyes widened beneath silver lashes. They reflected his madam’s mischievous facial expression. Rose’s smile collapsed a little and turned into a strained laugh.
“Madam, I managed to deceive people in the past because I used to wear a hat to hide my face, but... can I really do this? Also, does this not mean that I will have to deceive all the other employees and customers?”
There was something he had not told Violet Evergarden. Violet Evergarden was a mysterious girl to him as well, but there was not that great a difference between her and himself.
“I left my hometown in order to start my own life for real, and yet...”
He – no, she was going to begin a new life in this city starting from today. Not just as “Valentine” but as “Rose Valentine”.
The madam of the S.W. (Scarlet Winter) Letter-Specialized Shop, which would later make a name for itself as a unique postal company that mostly employed male Auto-Memories Dolls, replied with an alluring smile.
If there were goodbyes, there had to be encounters. And if there were ends, there had to be beginnings.
“We will not deceive them. You will properly sell yourself as Rose Valentine, the crossdressing beauty, from the very start. We sell a hundred different types of letters, stationery, envelopes. And also the caring customer service from charming young men who have some sort of sparkle to them. There is no mistaking that this will be as addicting as high-grade drinks. It’s exactly because this business is full of women that a shop full of men will shine. Is this discrimination? Are you discriminating against me, Rose?!”
Good endings and bad endings – life went on with both included.
“Haah... But I’m a woman. No, I might be almost a man since I’ve lived most of my life tricking people about my gender...”
“That’s what’s good about it!”
“Haah...”
It looked like an eternity but was not, yet on it went.
“Your boyish side and your original girl side. I recruited you taking them into account. Be at ease. You can sell. You can. After all, there is no other such Auto-Memories Doll.”
“Haah...”
“Don’t ‘haah’ me. Geez... my lovely rose. Worry not. Have I ever lied to you?”
The story would go on. Cruel as the world might be, beautiful moments would come by again.
“It has still not been that long since I first met you... so, I would not know, Madam.”
Morning would come as long as you were there. Such was how stories were made.
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suicidalslasher · 3 years
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forever & always. ➤ tom. h.
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Happy Valentine’s Day~!!! I couldn’t contain myself and or stop myself from writing about my favorite Valentine’s day killer. So, here you go :)
WARNING: descriptions of gore and blood. in this one-shot, the reader’s pronouns are she&her.  i might make a part two of this, depending on how well it does. maybe not. i like how it ends, regardless. either way. enjoy.
The news spread like wildfire. No matter which way you went, there was always a flame, reaching out towards those to burn. Try as you may, you can't get away. The words that littered the air was nothing more than burnt ashes fluttering around, burning each object as it flies above said thing or said person. In this case, the people of a small town called Valentine Bluffs were the ones burning from the inside and out. They felt trapped within the smoke, unable to seek out which way to escape the dangers that had followed.   The terror; the trauma; the panic and anxiety attacks; All of it - they thought it was long gone.... they were finally going back to being normal, how things used to be. 
They were going back to a life that wasn't full of fear, having to look behind your shoulder constantly and being careful of who you trust. It was all going to be okay, happy once more. They'd finally be able to celebrate their favorite day once again.  But... as you may have guessed, it's not quite  easy to put out a rapid wildfire. All it takes is a small fire to expand out into something bigger, bolder, and scarier. You can't escape the flames. No matter how big or small. You cannot ignore the overwhelming burning sensation that  glazes across your skin as the fire around you grows larger, making you feel smaller and smaller by the second.  The words, however, the statement that was fluttering around like specks of ash,  wasn't at all a sentence (nor an actual fire)  but a name - Harry Warden.  1997. Valentine's day. Everybody, in & out of town, knows what happened.  For a brief period of time there, nobody celebrated Valentine's day, having thought it out to be cursed.  Yet, as time went on, there was no sign of Harry Warden. No copy cat killer version of him, neither. So, the people went back to celebrating. Writing hand written love letters,  buying cheaply made cards at the local supermarket, buying and or receiving overly priced chocolates. Anything, everything, people did it with  love in their hearts and a smile on their face.  Today was Valentine's Day, once more. Expect it wasn't the way it had been for the past 9 years. It was exactly like the day in 1997. History was repeating itself.  Instead of love, presents, and reserved dinner dates being celebrated and shared, the town of Valentine Bluffs  got decomposed, rotting corpses,  instead. Blood scattered outside and inside of buildings. 
  It was worse than before, more bodies were showing up without their hearts and the missing body piece would be found neatly placed in between a plastic heart shaped box. All of which would be sent to the police station as a joke, as  a threat.  Even a card would be taped on top or under the container, though the sentences were far from cheerful and loveable.  A few of them had been thrown aside, only having been read once. Those who opened it and read it aloud usually found themselves cringing in dismay  as they read the paragraph out loud all while  shifting around in their seat, uncomfortably.  
Once they read it, they shook their heads as tears welled up in their eyes before they threw it into the trash bin or ripped it into hundreds of tiny pieces, not daring to open another letter that's brought in. Evidence or not, the workers couldn't keep their breakfast or lunch down when they'd read the cards.  The recent two cards had said;  From the heart comes a warning, filled with bloody good cheer, remember what happened as the 14th draws near!  And the last victim, a girl named Maryanne Anderson, had gotten a card right before she was found dead, her body laying in a ditch to rot.  Her card had read; Roses are red, violets are blue, one is dead, and so are you.  Nobody knew who the new killer was, or if it even was a new killer, copying Harry's schemes and following in his footsteps.  It could have very well been  the same man all those years ago. That's what they were saying.   (Y/N) (L/N) was in her car, driving back home from work when her favorite song had been replaced with an alarm, cutting off her favorite part. "Oh, c'mon!" She groaned, hands hitting the steering wheel in annoyance  before she goes to turn up the volume anyways, wondering what's so important that the town and the police station had to turn off her favorite song. 
She knew about the murders, she knew there was a serial killer around, she already knew this already. And yes, she was petrified, as most people were. When the first body showed up, the mayor of town announced there'd be a curfew until they found out who is doing all of this. Whether it was one person or more, they'd find a way to capture the killer. No matter what. There was not going to be another murder.
 (Of course, there was more.) 
 (The original curfew was getting home at 9:30. Now, it had gone down and you'd have to be indoors, at your house, by 6:30 PM.)  Students in school would get out earlier, as well as the adults in town. The only ones who didn't get to go home so early in the day were those who were trying to protect the people of Valentine Bluffs.  "We are sorry to interrupt that song there," came the  radio host's deep and groggy voice. "However, this is more important than your favorite throwback jams. I've gotten an officer here with me, he had just shown up not even a second ago to tell us more news on the situation we are currently in. So, please, listen carefully."  "Yeah, whatever. I already know what's going on. Tell me something I don't know." (Y/N)  turns off the radio as she pulls up in her driveway, feeling a sense of comfort clouding over her, another day, she's okay; safe and sound, unlike a few of her old high school friends that were gutted like fish and butchered like pigs. 
She shivers at both the bitter and harsh wind brushing against her  as she steps out of her vehicle and the obvious visual of whatever masked man (or men) that's around, killing innocent people for whatever given reason.  Hurrying along the steps to her porch, she digs her keys out of her jacket pocket, finding them within seconds before she's pushing them into the door as quickly as she could. She didn't show it, tried not to show it, but she was as anxious and paranoid as everyone else was. 
(Y/N) was  trying to hold back her fear but the moment she gets home, locking all the doors and windows, the uneasy feelings creep up on her and every negative emotion takes charge.     With a sigh, she falls down onto the couch with a plop, reaching for the remote, she turns on the TV, attempting to try and get her mind off of things.  Of course, every station wasn't what she wanted to watch, the news replacing every channel.  She skipped and skipped but it all remained the exact same. With a groan, she decides to listen to what they were saying, even though she really didn't want to hear it as it'd only make her anxiety worse.  "I am Jonathan Godfrey. We're sorry to interrupt your daily scheduled programs, however, a man you may know as Tom Hanniger has escaped from his stay from a mental hospital."  (Y/N)'s eyes nearly budge out of her head at the mention of the man's name,  the remote she had in the palm of her hand goes flying, falling down onto the ground by her feet. Tom? Mental hospital? It didn't make any sense! Everyone... including her, thought he was dead! She, with shaky fingers, grabs the remote to turn the volume up.   Jonathan's own eyes were wide as he read the teleprompter, his voice now grew shaky as he spoke. Fear was written across both his and his co-worker’s face. "Unfortunately, we don't have any more information or news as to where he's escaped off to. Or where he may be as of the moment. All the reports, every last piece of information we have been received  has said he's been missing since two days ago.  He can be anywhere.  More importantly, he can be here, hiding out." His voice trembled as he spoke, it was also very faint - almost ghostly. Quiet as a mouse. His skin was pale, making it appear as if he was a ghost rather than a living person that sat in the chair there.  
 Jonathan couldn't continue, this much was obvious, therefore his co-host, Abigail Miller, continued where he had left off.    "This being said, please, lock the doors and windows of your home. If you have a weapon to guard your own life and protect your ground, get it out now. Please, protect yourself the very best you can. And do not, I repeat, do not answer the door. Do not leave your home whatsoever. Whatever is outside of your house is surely not more important than your life.  
“Whether it is Tom that has been doing this or not, we're not exactly sure. All we tell you is to be careful and remain indoors until we can find Tom and or find the Valentine's killer. This has been Jonathan Godfrey and Abigail Miller, with the news. Stay safe and God bless." The program that was previously playing showed up finally, the neon colors swirling together to form the title of the show, along with a fairly way too cheerful theme song playing faintly in the distance as the introduction played out. (Y/N) had never heard of it before, but from a quick glance, it appeared to be a sitcom from the late 70's.  The only source of light was coming from the television screen, casting colorful shadows across (Y/N)'s face. She had felt too tired to have turned on the lights upon entering her house. Work was short, the hours having grown thinner because of the curfew, however, it was still tiring all the same.  She instantly regretted not doing so now, however. 
She sat in the dark, her heart thumping loudly against her chest as she pulled a near by blanket around her shoulders as if the thick fabric would comfort her and protect her. The room had gotten colder ever since the report was announced. Goosebumps ran up and down (Y/N)'s body, the baby hairs on her neck stood on end as a shiver slid up and down her spine. Despite the blanket being around her body, she felt nothing but cold, numb. Suddenly, the TV went out with a soft 'ping'.    (Y/N) gasped and her heart stopped beating all together.  She felt like she couldn't breathe, she couldn't tell if she was going crazy either when she heard what sounded like  footsteps coming down from the hallway. She sat, frozen, on her couch, unable to move, unable to breathe.  Then.... a knock. Followed by another and another. It was right outside, coming from not the front entrance but the back yard. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), please..." came the voice.  ​​​​​​​And (Y/N) recognized that voice anywhere.  She knows she shouldn't.... everybody said not to but... she couldn't help herself.  Getting up as quickly as she could, she runs down the hallway, the sounds of her feet echoing against the thin walls as she reaches the door, tugging it open.   There, on the other half of the door, stood nobody other than Tom Hanniger himself.   He looked up, surprised she had answered the door.  Giving her a weak, lopsided smile,  Tom's pulling her into a tight hug, his head falling down in the crook between her shoulder and neck, tears flooding his eyes as he soaks her shirt, silently weeping. "(Y/N).... fuck, I've missed you so much, missed you so bad." Tom confesses with a sniffle.  "Tom... I- what're you doing here? They're looking for you, you know this, right? Everybody's looking for you. And.... and I- fuck, Tom! I thought you were dead. Everybody in town thought you died the day your father did." (Y/N) didn't hesitate to hide her true feelings. She was a mixture of emotions. Angry, happy, sad, scared - she was feeling every single emotion there possibly was. "I know... I know. I-I have a lot to explain and a lot to tell you but please, right now, can we just- can we just play pretend?" He asked, moving away from her shoulder as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater, his eyes remained watery and his skin was flushed as he looked up at (Y/N).  (Y/N) guessed it was a mixture of three things - running away from the mental hospital to where her house was to  the bitter and harsh February air. Plus, the crying he had just done, too. His face was red and blotchy from all three. Despite it being so cold, sweat trickled his face, a few drips of it falling along side his cheeks. "Play pretend?" (Y/N) echoed, tilting her head to the side, unsure of what he meant.  "Let's play pretend." He repeated, licking his lips. "Let's play pretend and imagine none of this horrid, crazed shit is going on right now. Let's pretend it's only me and you. It's Valentine's day, isn't it? Let's celebrate. After all, it was one of our favorite days to spend together."  Heat rose to (Y/N)'s cheeks and she bit on her bottom lip, rocking back and forth on the bottom of her feet.  "Tom.... I-I'm...You want-" She couldn't from sentences, her thoughts were mushing together and it was all too much for her to handle. She felt like she was going to pass out. "I want you, (Y/N). I want you as bad as I did then and I want you just as badly right  now. There has never been a day where I wasn't thinking about you. You were the love of my life. I still love you, maybe even more, now. Let's celebrate, please. We can talk about everything tomorrow morning. I promise I'll tell you everything.  Right now, let's play pretend, let's act like it's just us again, like when we were teens.... I've missed you. And.... and I know you've missed me too or else you wouldn't have opened the door." And, yeah, okay, he was right.  "Tom..."  "(Y/N)." He stepped closer to her, closer than he had done before, as he rests his hand against her cheek, fingers brushing against her skin as he looked into her (E/C) eyes.  "I love you. I never stopped. And I know you love me, too.... so, please, baby girl.... can I just show you how much I love you?" (Y/N) shouldn't have answered the door. She should have called the cops when she heard his voice. Everything was too much of a  coincidence. 
Her power was working perfectly fine until Tom had shown up. 
Now that she was thinking about it.... 
There was also no victims until she had heard the news Tom had left the asylum. Three days ago.... 
Three days ago, there was the first victim; Maryanne.  If she thought too much about it, got too deep into the rabbit hole, she would have assumed Tom Hanniger was the Valentine's killer - The Miner.  Yet... looking at Tom, she knew he wasn't - couldn't - be the killer. If he was, he would've killed her too, right? Tom Hanniger's been through too much, and just like she was there before, she was going to be there for him now. Through Hell and back.  
She would stay by his side, no matter what. She still kept the old promise ring he had given her in high school, along with the note in which he confessed his feelings. In which, he told her - one day - he'd marry her. She was the perfect girl for him, as he was the perfect man for her.  A promise is a promise. When she said 'forever and always', she meant that. (Y/N) knew Tom meant it, too.  "I love you too."   Tom's quick to place his lips on (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) is quick to kiss him back just as hungry, just as fierce. She tangles  her fingers through her hair and pulls on it, earning a groan from Tom. Satisfied with the result, she tugs him into her house by the sleeve of his shirt, slamming the door shut with her foot. 
"I've missed you, baby." He says, not daring to pull away from the kiss.
"Show me how much you've missed me then, baby." She mumbles against his lips. "Oh, I'm going to."  "Let's go celebrate Valentine's day the right way then. Come on, let's go upstairs."   Tom grins and  (Y/N) smiles back before she's pulling him up the stairs and into her bedroom. 
Forever and Always. It was them until the end. Nobody would ever separate the two of them, again.... not even Harry Warden was going to destroy Tom’s happiness... not this time.
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btsqualityy · 3 years
Text
Assuage: Chapter 4
Yoongi x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers
Warnings: None to note.
Author’s Note: This chapter is the last of the introductory things to the universe and this is where the story will start to pick up more! I hope you guys enjoy it!
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A few days later, Yoongi was sitting at the front counter in the hardware shop, sketching out a design for an armoire that an Omega in the pack had put in a order for. Kibum was quickly giving Yoongi more and more responsibilities within the shop, and that included designing some things. He had to admit, it sort of scared him but he also enjoyed it. 
Yoongi had never really been particularly good at anything (except for hunting but that was expected for him being a Prime Alpha), so discovering this hidden talent for woodworking and carpentry was doing wonders for his psyche. 
Just as he added some small designs onto the sketchpad, he heard the telltale ringing of the bell above the front door and when he looked up, he saw you and Hyorin stepping inside. 
“Hi Yoongi!” Hyorin greeted him happily, her hands on her large baby bump as she waddled over to stand in front of the counter.
“Hey Hyorin, Y/N,” he replied stiffly, his eyes narrowing at you when you only nodded at him. “What can I help you with?”
“I just came to put in my formal request for a crib,” Hyorin smiled brightly. “Since Namjoon and I only have a little less than two months until this pup comes, I figured now would be a good time.”
“Yeah, it should be,” Yoongi nodded, reaching over and grabbing the order book and flipping it open to a clean page. “Anything specific that you’d like, such as colors or wood preference?”
“I’d like oak, for the whole thing,” Hyorin began. “And maybe a white or cream canopy.”
“White or cream?” You repeated. “You sure you don’t want something different?”
“Since we don’t know what we’re having, I want it to be gender neutral,” Hyorin shrugged. “And you know how Joon and I feel about the whole “blue for boys and Alphas and pink for girls and Omegas” thing.”
“Hey, I was just making sure,” you held your hands up in surrender. 
“Anything else that you’d want?” Yoongi wondered after writing down what Hyorin had said. 
“Maybe a rattle,” Hyorin added. “Joon was telling me that you guys got a shipment of plastic in from Seoul the other day.”
“We did,” Yoongi nodded. “Anything specific in regards to the design?”
“Whatever you come up with is fine,” Hyorin shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
“Alright, I’ll tell Kibum when he comes back and I’m sure he’ll want to get to work on it right away.”
“Oh no, tell him not to forget about any of your other orders just because of mines,” Hyorin chuckled. “Me and this little one can wait.”
“I’ll make sure to let him know,” Yoongi smiled lightly.
“Well, I have to go because I told Namjoon that I’d sit in on his meeting with Jin,” Hyorin sighed as she looked at the clock on the wall that showcased the time. “I’ll see you later Y/N-ah?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded.
“Ok. Thank you Yoongi, and tell Kibum that I said thank you too,” Hyorin smiled as she turned to walk out of the store. 
“No problem,” Yoongi called out after her, watching as the door to the shop shut behind her before turning to look back at you. “Why is she sitting in on Namjoon’s meeting with Jin?”
“What do you mean, why?” You wondered. “She’s Pack Omega.”
“Exactly, she’s an Omega,” Yoongi nodded. 
“Is this more of your sexist bullshit coming out?” You scoffed. “In our pack, the Pack Alpha and Pack Omega have an equal amount of power. And to answer your question, she’s sitting in on the meeting because Jin is the Head Omega of the pack, which means that he looks out for all of the unmated Omegas and the newly presented Omegas. He wanted to talk to Namjoon about some things and Hyorin is going to be there because she used to be Head Omega before her and Namjoon mated.”
“Oh,” Yoongi uttered.
“Running a pack is a big job, even for two people and Namjoon is smart enough to realize that as good as his intentions might be, he can’t understand what Omegas go through because he’s not one,” you continued. “That’s why he leans on Hyorin sometimes.”
“And the pack still respects him?” Yoongi wondered.
“Of course. Traditionally, the only person that an Alpha will back down for is their mate so he’s not doing anything completely unheard of,” you shrugged.
“It is to me,” Yoongi replied. 
“You know, maybe you should have Tae teach you our pack history and laws if you’re going to stay here,” you suggested.
“I don’t plan on staying,” Yoongi shot back, his eyes widening when you just snorted in reply.
“Please,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re working in the hardware shop with Kibum, which no one has done in years, mind you, because the man is off his rocker half the time. If you think he’s gonna let you leave, then you got another thing coming. You’re definitely staying.”
“Regardless,” Yoongi continued, ignoring your words. “Who said that I wanted to learn more about your pack anyways?”
“It was just a suggestion. I mean, I figured that you were tried of looking like a complete dumbass anytime you talk to someone around here,” you smirked. “But hey, if you wanna stay in the dark, that’s on you.” You then turned around, swiftly walking out of the hardware shop. As the door shut behind you, Yoongi realized that maybe you had a point. He had been staying with your pack for almost a month now and his previous blissful ignorance was quickly turning into just plain ignorance. As he thought about it, he figured that having just a little bit of extra information could help him out.
............................
“God, I never thought you’d ask!” Taehyung squealed as he led Yoongi into a large room, where the walls were covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves. They were in the Head Hall, where all of the records of the pack’s history, laws, and every event and birth within the pack were kept. 
“I only want to know the basics Taehyung,” Yoongi tried to say, jumping out of his seat slightly when Taehyung dropped a large book down onto the table in front of him. 
“Our pack is almost 100 years old,” Taehyung smiled as he sat down next to Yoongi. “There’s more than just ‘the basics’ to be learned hyung.”
“Well, where should I start?” Yoongi wondered.
“Start here, with our family,” Taehyung told him as he opened the book and flipped the pages until he was almost to the end. “You don’t have to learn about the beginning of the pack right now, but starting with our parents would be a good point.”
“Ok,” Yoongi nodded, looking down at the page and beginning to read.
Alpha Kim Chan-woo rose to the coveted position of Pack Alpha in our year of 1990 after winning in ritual combat against his Omegean sister, Kim Dohee. In 1993, he was mated to Omega Park Mi-hee who then gave birth to two pups; a son named Namjoon in our year of 1994 and a daughter named Y/N who followed swiftly behind in our year of 1995.
Nothing of significance is to be noted of the family of our Pack Alpha and Pack Omega, until our year of 1998. While on a treaty trip to visit a pack in Daegu, Pack Alpha Chan-woo and Pack Omega Mi-hee came across an orphaned pup. Not being able to bring themselves to leave him alone, they allowed him to come back to pack territory with them, intent on welcoming him into their family.
The council of pack elders were staunchly opposed, citing the issues of lineage that could be encountered once their pups were of age. However, the two of them (especially Pack Alpha Chan-woo) were insistent on giving the abandoned pup a loving home and family. The councils of elders relented and since the little pup could not remember his name, he was dubbed ‘Kim Taehyung’ by Pack Omega Mi-hee, and he served as the last addition to their family.
“Wow,” Yoongi muttered before looking over at Taehyung. “Your parents sound like amazing people.”
“They were,” Taehyung nodded with a soft smile. “Here, we can skip forward a little bit.” Taehyung reached out and flipped forward a few pages, skimming over one before motioning to Yoongi for him to continue reading.
In our year of 2009, Pack Alpha Chan-woo and Pack Omega Mi-hee’s first born son, Namjoon, presented as an Alpha at the age of 15. There was a glorious celebration, as it’s known to be a blessing from the Gods to have a first born son become an Alpha. Their last born son, Taehyung, presented as well two years later as a Beta at the age of 16. This caused a great commotion, as there was only one other living Beta in the pack at the time, and he was an Elder. 
After the presentation of Taehyung, there were many rumors abound as their daughter, Y/N, had not presented yet. Finally, in the autumn of our year 2012, Kim Y/N finally presented and surprised the entire pack. The celebration was unlike any the pack had seen in years, rivalling and even surpassing that of her elder Alpha brother. 
“Why was Y/N’s presentation so important?” Yoongi asked Taehyung. 
“That’s not important,” Taehyung said quickly, making Yoongi’s eye narrow. Taehyung moved forward and shut the book closed, pulling over another one and opening it up. “That’s enough about the history. Why don’t you read some of our laws and beliefs?”
“Alright,” Yoongi replied slowly, looking back down at the book. 
This pack prides itself on being a place where Alphas, Betas, and Omegas are treated fairly and equally. In order to have a harmonious pack, the talents of all three subgenders are needed and without any of them, a pack cannot be fruitful. 
An Alpha’s job, of course, is to be the breadwinner of their respective family. They are also the first line of defense when it comes to the safety of the pack, and are expected to protect it as such. However, Alphas are also expected to respect Betas and Omegas, especially the latter. While a pack wouldn’t be able to survive without it’s Alphas, too many prideful Alphas can lead to the eminent downfall of a pack. It is important for Alphas to be able to take a step back, realize that they don’t have all of the answers, and be able to turn to those who do; all for the good of the pack. 
A Beta’s job is to be the supporter of Alphas and the confidants of Omegas. Betas have a hard job, because they are the closest to our non subgendered humans while still having the feelings, senses and thoughts of subgendered humans. Betas have the ability to not be as clouded by hormones and pheromones' as their Alpha and Omega packmates, which gives them the invaluable role of peacekeeper within a pack. Without Betas, a pack would dissolve into turmoil. However, it can be hard for Betas to remember this so reminding them of their importance is of the utmost priority; all for the good of the pack.
An Omega has what’s arguably the most important job within the pack; they are the main ones who give birth to and teach our pups. Within this pack, Omegas are always to be treated with the utmost respect, as our pack would have no future without them and their guidance. While Omegas are free to do what they please within this pack, many of them chose to stay home with their pups or devote their talents to teaching our pups, which are all extremely selfless decisions. Without them, Alphas would not have people to lean on, Betas would not have anyone to confide in, and the pack would die out. Treating them with the love and respect that they deserve only leads to happy Omegas who are content with their lives; which is all for the good of the pack.
“You know,” Yoongi spoke up suddenly. “I never thought about Omegas this way.”
“How did your old pack view Omegas, hyung?” Taehyung wondered. “I mean, you have to admit that your views are a little...sexist.”
“Basically, Omegas were objects and not people,” Yoongi shrugged. “They were there for Alphas to fuck and that’s it.”
“Ugh, one of those packs,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Well, does it make sense? The way that we view and treat Omegas?”
“Actually, yeah it does,” Yoongi admitted. “Like I said, I just never thought about it like this.”
“That’s understandable hyung, and it’s not completely your fault,” Taehyung replied. “We can’t help the way that we’re raised. The only thing that we can do is try to change our mindset, if you want to.”
“I guess that’s true,” Yoongi sighed. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What’s with the tattoos that you, Y/N, and Namjoon all have?” He wondered.
“Oh, you mean this,” Taehyung smiled, reaching over and lifting up the sleeve of his t-shirt on his left arm, showcasing the small, circular tattoo that was there. “It’s a crest.”
“Your family’s?” Yoongi guessed.
“Yep. After our parents died and Namjoon became Pack Alpha, we all got them since we’re the children of the former Pack Alpha and Omega,” Taehyung explained. “Namjoon has his right on the center of his chest because he’s the center and head of the pack. Y/N has hers on the right side and I have mines of the left because we’re Namjoon’s main supporters and we’re always going to have his back, through anything.”
“That’s amazing,” Yoongi found himself smiling lightly. “I kind of wish I had a family like you guys.”
“You can hyung,” Taehyung said, reaching over and setting his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I know that you keep saying that you don’t plan on staying, but I really don’t want you to go back out there on your own. We can give you a nice life here and you won’t ever have to risk what happened to you before happening again. So, will you stay?” 
Yoongi couldn’t help but to chuckle because despite the façade that he had been putting on in front of Taehyung and everyone else that he talked to, he realized that he had already made his decision a while ago and he had a sneaking feeling that he wouldn’t regret the words that tumbled out of his mouth. 
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
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invictarre-archive · 3 years
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Could Leon beat them? Villain edition.
So I made a post a while back listing each Champion and placing them in categories based on how easily I think Leon would be able to beat their teams (and if he could beat them at all). This is just that, but instead of Champions it’s the villain leaders. I am including all those who served as villain team leaders within the games, regardless of if they were the main villain or not. Rainbow Rocket is not included, as the characters themselves remain the same so I doubt the overall outcome would differ much from those listed above.
None of this is concrete canon, since this assumes that all challangers are of an equal level and that they’re all fighting with standard battle rules (1-v-1). Items, abilities, linked moves, terrain type, etc. are not considered, and it’s assumed that this is happening out of Galar where Gigantamax is unavailable. All in all, this is just a hc thing not meant to be taken too seriously, and will never be applied to others' muses without prior mutual agreement.
Battles in favour of Leon. These are people where he’s confident he could win against them no matter the circumstances.
Archie. Honestly? I feel like Archie’s heart isn’t totally in this villainy thing. He doesn’t have the raw denial some of these leaders do when faced with people who are like ‘hey !!!! you’re super evil, actually !!!!!!’, so I feel like he wouldn’t battle at his peak strength during his whole Aqua phase. Would likely be an easy opponent to beat.
Maxie. Same reasons as Archie. He’s just not devoted enough to the villain path.
Colress. He’s a very intelligent scientist, but probably isn’t super prepared to face off against a Champion-level battler. In terms of scientific knowledge/ability, though ??? Leon is very outclassed and ready to admit that Colress is the smarter person present.
Guzma. He’s not on Leon's level of strength, but he’s certainly not someone to be underestimated. Training Bug types means having to have an excellent understanding of their weaknesses and how to counter them, so simply relying on type advantages probably wouldn’t do too much good here. It’d be a closer battle than most others in this category, and probably very fun to see as a spectator.
Piers. Leon’s battled him and the rest of the Galar League before, so is already familiar with his geenral team lineup, battle style and type weaknesses. Pretty easy match, no offense Piers.
Chairman Rose. Post-Eternatus, Leon is consumed by the wrath of god whenever he sees Rose, so he wouldn’t even need six pokemon to take this motherfucker out. Just send Char straight out the bat and let him blaze through Rose’s team within a few minutes.
Draws. Either these battles get stuck in a stalemate, with neither side able to faint the other/there’s a mutual fainting, or where there’s an equal likelihood of a victory or loss depending on the circumstances at the time.
Giovanni, based mainly off of my portrayal (@imperiarre). He’s a decently strong Trainer who’s seen a lot of challengers in his time as the eighth Gym Leader, and the Ground typing could prove a bit of an issue. However, Red has had enough run-ins with him that Leon would be going into this battle very prepared, so it’s unlikely Giovanni would be able to take him by surprise with anything. It would depend entirely on if Giovanni had done equal amount of prep to go against Leon, you know? He’s not someone to be underestimated.
Cyrus. I can’t really explain this one. I just feel like, while his team isn’t anything special in terms of pokemon or type coverage, he has the kind of determination needed to keep holding on in battle. Something about his disdain for spirit and emotions makes me feel like he’s a very strategic fighter, analysing the battle without needing to worry about the wellbeing of his team or Leon’s, and that might open up attack opportunities that, while potentially risky or harmful, could turn the tides in his favour if they hit correctly.
N. He has Reshiram, and Leon has a huge trauma-based fear of Legendaries. If he wanted to fight like a bastard, he could easily force Leon to forfeit and withdraw, but if he didn’t do that I think Leon would have a pretty good shot at winning.
Lusamine. He wouldn’t know anything about her or her team, so would be going in blind and hoping for the best. That said, however, her lineup doesn’t seem like it would pose too much of a problem on the surface, so she’d have to have some excellent in-battle items and abilities in order to get one-up on Leon. It’s possible she could win if she did the correct preparation, but otherwise I think he’d have victory in the bag.
Battles in favour of the opponent. These are people who Leon would struggle to win against with his current team lineup and skill level.
Ghetsis. Same reasons as N, except Ghetsis has Kyurem and would definitely fight like a bastard to exploit Leon’s obvious fear of it and force a forfeit. Even if Leon didn’t withdraw, he wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind to battle at his best.
Lysandre, specifically @fuladaris. While I don’t see Lysandre outright beating Leon, it’d be too optimistic to go into the battle aiming for a draw. Throw in the fact that Leon hasn’t mastered Mega Evolution, plus the fact that Lysandre has the determination needed to fight for his goals that was missing in some of these other leaders, and you’ve got yourself a sticky situation! Leon would 10000% be stalling for time with this battle, going full-on defense and dodge mode until help arrived.
Nihilego-fused Lusamine. If you seriously think Leon would be able to bear being in the presence of another ultra-powerful Poison pokemon after what happened with the Eternatus encounter, you’ve severely misunderstood my interpretation of him. Leon’s getting right the fuck out of there and booking a year’s worth of emergency therapy appointments before he has a paranoid breakdown. She wins by default.
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msmarvelwrites · 3 years
Text
Vienna Waits
Summary: The reader has a hard time around the holidays because it brings up a lot of unhappy memories. Bucky knows trauma all too well and he’s always there to lend some Christmas cheer. 
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Warnings: mentions/flashbacks of assult, ptsd, 18+, swearing, but truly a fluff piece...
Word Count: 2.5k
Authors Note: Hi again! It’s ya girl, back at it again with the plot all to based on her own predicaments. Please read the warnings because the last thing I’d ever want to do is trigger anyone- but at it’s core I wrote this as an aid. Like My Girl, this was written to bring us together, because we are so much stronger that way! This is also my first submission to the Merry Hoemas Challange, so with that please enjoy! Sending love and light to all you beautiful holiday babies.
Thank you to @amythedvdhoarder  @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine and @starlightcrystalline for hosting this holiday challange!
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It was, of course, the most wonderful time of year. Christmas Eve at the Avengers Compound. 
The snow cascading from the dark sky acted as a sheet of white as you nervously sipped on your tea, checking the time once again. Your best friend was supposed to be back from his solo mission hours ago, and yet here you were, alone and completely overwhelmed. 
He was always better at these things. Always knowing how to avoid the holiday slump with ease. Bucky was who you turned to when you needed a quick coping mechanism. 
Christmas with the world's mightiest heroes had its perks for sure, but this was certainly not one of them. The joyous holiday music echoing through the Avenger hq living room was doing nothing to settle your nerves. In fact, quite the opposite. It lingered around you, pulling memories you buried deep down in the back of your mind. 
“I really think it’s better if I just head home… It’s getting really bad out there and…”
His lips cut you off, lazily trailing down your neck as the taste of bile rose into your throat. He was just drunk, you thought. So were you. You had given him the wrong idea. If you just explained you didn't want him to touch you… 
He would understand, you thought… You really did. 
“Honey, I’m home” Bucky called, cackling to himself as he shook off the snow caked to his winter coat. His voice shot you back into the dimly lit living room you now resided. 
You lunged from the recliner, spinning around the corner to find Bucky, hands full of gift bags and a candy cane dangling out of his mouth as a goofy grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 
“Where the hell have you been?” You tried to sound angry, but he was just so damn cute.
“Okay, first of all, you're welcome.” He scoffed sarcastically, gesturing to the gift bags as he placed them on the floor. “And second, you're the one who sent me out in the middle of a snowstorm for last minute christmas presents… So, you get what you get.” He chuckled. 
“No, no, I appreciate you- it… I appreciate it so much Buck.” You stumbled, though you didn't let the blush creep onto your cheeks before you spoke again, “You know how I get this time of year.” You sighed, crossing the room to help him with his bags of gifts. It wasn't lost on Bucky that the holiday season was difficult for a lot of the team, including yourself. Though he didn’t know everything about your past and how it brought you here, to the team, and one of the most ruthless fighters the Avengers had ever seen, he did know it was rough and dark and definitely off limits to talk about. Bucky didn't mind, however. As long as he had you by his side. 
“Ya know, if you help me wrap these gifts there might be a Christmas movie marathon in your future.” He wiggled his brows causing you to laugh. 
“That really sounds like a lose-lose on my end here, Buck.” you giggled.
“Are you by any chance at all into hot chocolate?” he bribed, though you would have caved regardless. Any time spent with Bucky was all you wanted for Christmas. 
Once all the presents were wrapped, Bucky was true to his word, puttering into the kitchen, whipping up his famous hot chocolate recipe. Honestly, if the world knew the famous Winter Soldier was as jolly was he is, they probably wouldn't believe it. Something about Christmas just brought out the best in him. 
“So,” You started as you sipped on your whip cream topped hot chocolate. “What is it about this holiday?” You pried, looking up at Bucky as he wiped a dollop of cream off the tip of your nose. 
“I don’t really know. Getting my memories back after all that time, Christmas with my Ma and sisters was always so clear…” He paused, his eyes fixing themselves on the floor. “I guess it’s one of the only really decent memories I have.” 
You only stared at Bucky for a moment as you let the words sink in. He never really spoke about his family and what, if anything he remembered. You never pushed him, thankful that he respected you the same. Though you had only been friends for a year now, those things just aren't privy to your relationship. 
“You never told me that before.” You finally spoke, watching as his eyes met with yours. 
“Yeah well, it’s hard to talk about sometimes. But… I don't know. I trust you, doll. More than anyone, I think. You kind of pull it outta’ me.” He sighed into that goofy smile you loved so much. You wanted to tell him that there was no one in this world that you trusted more, that you could and would be an open book for him, if that's what he wanted… But you supposed it went without saying. Instead, you rested you head on his shoulder, sinking back into the couch as you watched whatever sappy Christmas movie Bucky had picked out for you to watch. 
It wasn't long before the compound started to buzz with disembodied voices and echoing footsteps. A team was getting back tonight, and soon the living room would be filled with your friends booming laughter. 
You let your mind wander, tiptoeing into the darkest parts of your unconscious as the movie faded further and further away…
Your body shook, hard. You heard yourself plead, begging him to stop. Could feel the tears wet and hot as they rolled down your cheeks pooling onto your chest as he wiped them away. Such an act of kindness in such a nauseating scene. Your whole body ached with how hard you were trembling. So weak. You knew it, and now he did too-
Wanda was the first to round the corner, plopping herself down on the couch between you and Bucky, almost sitting right on your lap. 
“Good evening!” She chimed, resting her head against your shoulder in a complete and utter disregard of yours and Bucky’s closeness. Wanda was always the best at diffusing tension you hadn't even realised was there. Though now, as she sat there, it was very apparent that's exactly what it was. However you were thankful for her halting your train of thought. 
“Hello, darling.” Bucky chuckled as you wrapped your arms around her.
Tony rounded the corner next, snickering when he saw the three of you bundled up on the couch together. “Well, isn't that sweet. The trauma triplets are back together.” 
“Dont hate us cause’ you ain’t us, Tony.” You sang, watching as he rolled his eyes and puttered off to his lab. 
“So, any plans for this evening?” Wanda asked, grabbing your mug of hot chocolate without a second thought and taking a sip. 
“This is kind of it. Most of the team is back home with their family.” You explained, looking behind Wanda's head to Bucky, “Do you have any plans with Stevie?” You asked.
“Nope.” He popped the P. “Just us tonight. Steve’s out on a solo mission until tomorrow morning.” 
“About that… Nat is actually setting me up tonight. A double date, I think? So, it's just you guys tonight.” Wanda spoke sheepishly. 
Bucky and you both gapped at her before you finally spoke, “Traitor.” You glared while she only chuckled, shoving you playfully.  
“You guys will get along just fine without me. Just don’t watch The Holiday until I’m back! You guys know that’s my favourite”
As the compound quieted down for the night, you and Bucky fell into your daily routine of  comfortable silence. It was just like every other day, or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself as the end credits of another holiday movie started rolling onto the screen. 
“So,” Bucky finally spoke, shifting in his seat to reach for something out of your eyeline. “It’s technically christmas now… And, I know we said no gifts, but I saw this and it was just so you. I had to pick it up.”
Your eyes landed on the small velvet box in his hands, your breath hitching in your throat for a moment as your brain forze. You could feel your body trembling as he held it out, waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stare. 
“Such a good little thing.” He finally spoke. Your eyes were so glazed over you couldn't quite tell where his voice was emulating from. You could hear his belt, feel his hands on either side of your face as he whispered in your ear. “Happy Christmas, baby.” He chided, dropping the small velvet box in your hands as he left the room. 
You couldn't bear to touch it, whipping it across the room as it shattered open, the small diamond necklace rolling across the hardwood floor as it tumbled to the ground with a harsh crack. Your fingers burned where the rough velvet had been, and you remembered thinking you'd feel this way forever. 
“Y/n?” Bucky spoke your name and it shocked you back to reality. You blinked at him, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at him. He looked absolutely terrified and it broke your heart. Absolutely tore you apart that you could ever be the reason for that face. 
“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m so sorry, I was so far away there for a moment.” You reached out but before you could take the small box, his hands covered your own and he let his thumb stroke your skin, sending a shiver up your arms and all around your neck. 
“You know I would never judge you, right?” He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “God knows you've never judged me. I’m here. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.” 
The words hit you like a ton of bricks. ‘Not your fault.’ Did he know? There was no possible way. You had Fury burn your physiatric evaluation from when you first started a year ago. No one knew. This was a fresh start, and there way no way that- 
“I can see your mind turning, and I just want to assure you, we are good. Okay? You and me, that's easy. It’s always been that way. Whenever you're ready, if you ever want to talk… I’m here, alright? Always.” His voice melted over you like a warm bath, calming you as you met his gaze. There was a sweetness you haven't seen before. It was new and yet there was something familiar about it. Had he always looked at you that way? Surely you would have remembered as it sent butterflies to explode in your stomach. 
He dropped the rectabled box in your hands and you finally felt the weight of it. Definitely heavier than a necklace, though you guess that wasn't really Bucky’s style anyways. 
You slowly clicked the box open, your eyes falling on the small black object resting on the pillow inside. 
“It’s a knife?” You spoke, just above a whisper as your hands traveled over the cool metal looking up at Bucky in surprise. 
Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he explained. “Remember that mission a year back? I think it was one of our firsts.” 
“Vienna.” You chimed, the memory coming back to you now. 
“You stole my knife.” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “I remember, I had it in my hand, you ran out of ammo and in a flash it was in your hands. Those Hydra punks didn't see you coming. God, doll. That had to be the hottest-” He blushed, clearing his throat, “I mean, that was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Been trying to find you one like it ever since.”
“Oh, Buck.” You signed, gripping the knife in your hands and effortlessly flipping it through your fingers as it sparkled in the dim lighting. 
“Do you like it?” He hummed. 
“Like it? I absolutely love it… I feel like such an ass for not getting you anything.” You confessed, averting your eyes to the floor. 
You flinched as Bucky’s cool metal fingers tipped your head up, and he tried not to notice, though the reaction wasn't lost on him. He really didn't know about your past, but trauma knew trauma. 
“Darling, this…” He motioned to you, “This is all I need for Christmas.” His voice was like honey in tea, warm and sweet and so smooth. 
“You flirt.” You giggled, shoving him playfully as you placed the knife back in its box and resting it on the coffee table.  
“I would never.” He sarcastically gasped, causing you to laugh at his dramatics. Bucky wasn't truly himself around the others, but you wished sometimes they could see his goofy side. Though it warmed your heart he reserved it for you. 
“What do you say? One more movie before we call it a night?” You asked, relaxing into his shoulder as you clicked through the options. Bucky’s silence caught your attention, pulling you back to his gaze. He stared at you as if startled by your words. 
“What?” You chuckled nervously, raising a brow when he didn't speak. 
“You're willinging requesting we watch a Christmas movie? Are you feeling okay?” He jested, lifting his flesh palm to your forehead as if to check your temperature. You swatted him away, rolling your eyes as you did so. 
“I’m fine. I just…” You watch him carefully as his laughter faded and he focused on you. “I never really thought I could enjoy Christmas. Someone stole that luxury away from me a very long time ago, but with you… With you it comes so easy. I know it must be hard, but you never let it show. I honestly can't tell you the last time I’ve properly laughed like that during the holidays. God, it's been years and yet here we are. You just pull it out of me.” 
Bucky smiled softly, holding his hands out for yours and you quickly accepted the gesture. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned pulling you into his chest as he hugged you. It was something that was very new, and yet just felt right. Like this was how your bodies were meant to be, fit together like puzzle pieces. 
“Doll, I’ll pull it out for you whenever you want.” He cooed, sarcasm lacing his words and your head fell back, laughter bubbling out of your chest. 
“God, I love you.” You finally got out, but as soon as the words left your lips you knew how impulsive you had been. Bucky stilled beside you but you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling above, terrified to meet his gaze. It wasn't a big deal, just two friends admiring each other. You knew, however if you were honest it was much more than that. Bucky felt it too. 
“Darling,” He murmured, so low you almost didn’t hear him. Your eyes slowly returned to his as your heart nearly jumped from your chest. “You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since Vienna. You’re it for me. Always have been, I think.” 
You stared at him for a moment, unsure of where your voice went as your mouth ran dry. 
“As if I even need to say it, I love you too.” 
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Divider made by the wonderful @chrissquares 
Thank you 3000 to my amazing friends @cutie1365 and @sweeterthanthis for their endless support and constant grammatical corrections. I’d be forever dyslexic without you guys... (I kind of will I think, but ya’ll make it a hell of a lot easier on me)
Taglist:
@sweeterthanthis​@cutie1365 @whateveriwant @drabblewithfrannybarnes @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline @kalesrebellion @projectcampbell @calwitch @sycochick @sassy-pelican @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @amateuratheart @officialmarvelbaby @a-really-bi-girl @fairislesheets
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kiivg · 4 years
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.I decided to just go with my three heroes instead of like all my dragon age romances because I’ve got someone for Blackwall, Gaspard, and I’ve got a mind for someone with Dorian too. Then I’ve got a whole load of OC x OC as well, and trying to draw all of them would be time consuming. However! During drawing this, I realised that, technically, Andrastopher, Anders, Marcus, and Zevran, have all slept with one another. Whether that’s between two people or more just depends on when in the timeline haha…. ,’:)c.
.Anyway there’s some things about my Heroes and their love interests below :), thank you for asking! I’m always excited to talk about my OCs.
...
.Andrastopher and Zevran’s relationship starts out as quite a basic thing. Something that’s not talked about in camp or on any of their journeys, but everyone knows it’s happening. On Andrastopher’s side, it’s something to make him forget for a little while, something to take his mind of everything that’s happening to him. Zevran, after all, offers this to him as more of an incentive to keep him alive knowing that Andrastopher most likely will end up killing him. Something that Andrastopher wasn’t exactly quiet about, he did actually plan on presenting Zevran’s head to Arl Howe at some point.
.Of course, everything changes with the course of time. Fighting beside one another in such dangerous situations, it was bound to leave them closer than before. They save each other’s lives, they tend one another’s wounds, and one night, Andrastopher doesn’t slink back to his own tent with a satisfied hum in his belly and stays curled around the other man. There’s a tenderness that blooms between them both, and what was not talked about before, is shown more and more openly.
.Zevran, I think, falls in love with Andrastopher before Andrastopher falls in love with him. He’s too broken to glue himself back together long enough to even think about such a thing. It probably doesn’t help that Zevran had started off by complimenting him on his looks above anything else, and Andrastopher knows he’s a weird looking man; more of a curiosity than a crush to anyone who looks at him. Anything Zevran had said after that was taken with the knowledge that the man would be lying.
.By the end of the blight, something that Andrastopher had hoped to die in, he’d found a reason to live again. Completing Morrigan’s ritual was a risk to take, but one he did so willingly so he could waken next to Zevran another day. However odd their beginnings were, neither man was willing to see the other one gone.
.After the blight, Andrastopher struggles with everything he knows. There’s no place for him in the world, and he cannot hide in Zevran’s arms as if there is nothing wrong. He takes a year to himself, sacrificing himself to the Qun, accepting that he needed a restriction in being who he was meant to be. It was a hard time apart, but the reunion was a sweet one. Though time and work takes them apart for perhaps months at a time, they remain loyal to one another. They marry at some point, a small thing which really only included the pair themselves, a chantry Mother, and Oghren who was both amused and embarrassed about it all.
.To this day they remain together, and regrets have been spoken about how they had initially started out. Andrastopher knows he should have treated Zevran better, something the man has forgiven him for over and over throughout their years. 
...
.Marcus and Anders’ relationship was in-game the rivalmance because it’s so much more delicious than the basic romance. But, in my mind, it’s different.
.They start off butting heads in Kirkwall, Marcus needs Anders’ help, and Anders’ needs Marcus’ help. The idea of anything between them isn’t really on the table at the time since Marcus has been spending his time between Meeran’s legs more often than not. They both find each other insufferable for a variety of reasons; Marcus is egotistic, narcissistic,  overtly cocky, and spends most of his time either fighting or fucking or playing that ridiculous lute he won in the Hanged Man. Whilst Marcus thinks Anders’ fight has been blown to unrealistic proportions, and he’s championing something that can be overcome easily enough, the man has a hero complex that grates on his nerves. Marcus is a Fereldan apostate who lives freely, and he can’t understand why people don’t just escape from the circle; his father did easily enough.
.After the Deep Roads expedition, coming home after eating nothing but mushrooms and drinking rock water for weeks, just to return to Carver’s newfound templar job really makes him rethink his attitude in Kirkwall. Marcus becomes openly supportive of the Templars, he has no choice; Carver’s relation to a mage has him under valiant watch, and though money helps, Marcus has to be on his best behaviour. Being seen with Anders can only damage his reputation, but they had kissed in that foggy desperation in the Deep Roads, not that they’d spoken of it, but it remains a memory that tasted sweet despite their breath.
.Marcus spends most of his time in the Blooming Rose in the next few years, wealth and desire letting him flaunt his time in rented beds. Anders yet plays on his mind, pulling him back time after time whenever he hears the man needs his help. They fight and disagree, snapping with magic curling in their fingertips. Anders feels like Marcus is betraying the very core of himself; denying that he’s a mage in every positive song he sings of the Templars. He hates the man with an intensity that boils over in the need to return to that time in the Deep Roads; when mages and templars didn’t matter, and the once fat Fereldan apostate gave away his shares of tasteless fungi to the mage who knew how to heal wounds. They fight and kiss, biting at each other with teeth and nails, and it is Marcus who storms away; burning with confusion and singed footsteps, and awaiting a visitor at the end of the night.
.When things get particularly bad, Marcus gives in to Anders’ way of thinking, apologising for what they had been through over the years. He gives him a key to the Hawke estate. It’s a safe place to hide, a safe place to smuggle mages in and out. He warns him on Carver’s inclusion, Marcus can’t be seen helping; it would only come back upon his brother and he’s not willing to risk such a thing.
.Anders stops by the estate more and more, and the animosity between them settles into something of a comfort. The man is there when Leandra is killed, he is there to stop him from killing Merrill just a few nights after, he is there to drag him home from the Blooming Rose when he drinks too much to remember where he lives. Marcus knows he doesn’t deserve any of it, and he is selfish when he kisses Anders for the first time in years, selfish when he tries to drag him into bed, selfish when he asks him to stay the night. Marcus’ rise to Viscount is the only thing that keeps Anders safe, and is the only reason that Anders is able to be smuggled from Kirkwall after the explosion.
.It’s a year and a half before they see each other again. Justice has been calmed over the months, and Marcus’ attempts at keeping Kirkwall sane had slowly been overthrown by a group of zealots. A mage couldn’t hold position for any longer, and he had no choice but to flee. He’d spent six months building a home for himself in the ruins of Lothering, and he welcomes Anders with laughter and disbelief when he sees the man again. Years had passed since they had first met in Darktown, but seeing Marcus with a small herd and a weight settling in his gut, it’s the most real he’s ever been.
.They settle together, never intending for it to be permanent. But there is a loneliness that could only be combatted together, and when mages begin to find them it’s hard not to fall in love with one another when they work to rebuild what was once lost. A small village sprouts around them, mages seeking safety and succour found under the guidance of a heavy stranger named Conchobhar, and that taller fellow named Jarl.
...
.Goddard and Yetta’s relationship isn’t actually an in-game thing, since he’s seventy-one at the beginning of Inquisition, and like what options do I ever have apart from making him a sugar daddy (I missed a thing there for sure AH), so I gave him a wife called Yetta.
.Essentially, it’s an arranged marriage for them. Which begins terribly, because neither want to marry the other; Goddard is still holding out hope that he will find his first love again, and Yetta was betrothed to him since she was a child so she’s never had a choice. Their wedding is awkward, Goddard tries to convince his little brother, Milward, to take his place, and Yetta is caught trying to escape from the actual event. Goddard also turns up in Orlesian finery in an attempt to insult Yetta’s family and to remind them that he spent a good few years in bed with a chevalier. It works, but, the wedding still goes ahead, and they’re both miserably married by the end of the day.
.Despite his tactics, Goddard promises Yetta that he’d stay truthful to her regardless of whether or not they end up in bed together. And, in the beginning, neither of them wanted to. Goddard spends his nights sleeping on the floor, and there’s a more than obvious rumour floating around that they haven’t yet slept together. Despite all the pushes and shoves they receive; Goddard being pushed into Yetta’s room as she dresses for the day, Yetta being forced into the bathing chambers whilst Goddard is alone in there, conversations of sex being brought up at their meal times, and even being locked in their bedchamber for so long that Goddard ends up bum rushing the guards who bring them food at meal time.
.It’s not the best beginning, but there is a camaraderie that begins between them in their joint frustrations. Their attraction to one another begins in the written letters they send over the years. With Goddard working in Ferelden, and Yetta remaining in Ostwick, it’s the only way of communicating they have. And though it takes years, it’s hard to deny the way that their feelings grow each time Goddard gets some weeks away from the military.
.Together they have three children over the years, agreeing to stop trying after that due to Wakefield’s complicated birth. They remain happy together until this day, accepting a few blips over the years, and the rather gargantuan blunder of Goddard having an affair whilst incapacitated and presumed dead in Ferelden. Everything that is thrown at them is tackled head on and together, and it is obvious in almost everything that the do together, that their love grows ever stronger every minute they spent beside one another.
.TL:DR: all my heroes are happy and loved and alive :)c.
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ha-hatdog · 4 years
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double the trouble, triple actually / miya atsumu / smau / chapter one
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masterlist / miya atsumu's squad / chapter two
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   Upon the exiting the compact spaces the cab provided, the first thing that greeted your figures was the cool wind from the north, and not long after, as your feet padded across solid ground, the soft sunrays from the sun hung above the skies caressed your delicate skin. The sun and wind in Japan did not differ from Australia, both countries shared the same sources, but somehow, in some strange and indecipherable way, you felt more at home than the country who served as your paradise from your heartbreak.
 Behind you, the chatter between your best friends reached your eardrums as they busied themselves of gathering your luggage from, but their words seemed muffled and beyond the boundary of discernment as you took a proper gander at the luxurious, two story construction erected before you. Slathered in monochrome paint, enveloped in a pristine and doted garden, with the smell of lavender and roses which has blossomed from the rich greenery of the shrubs springing in the air – “Wow,” You breathed out, the disbelief ever present in your inaudible murmur. “Sousuke,” Without executing any kind of motion to execute a decorous confrontation to your raven-haired companions, you carried on with your statement, stammering in the process. “I-Is this really where you live?”
       Yamazaki Sousuke heaved one of your baggage from out of the trunk of the vehicle with complete ease as years of his athleticism aided him in his action and fixated his bemused gaze unto you. “I took you here, didn’t I?” His answer came in blank sardonicism but from your years of friendship, you can depict the banter and smile on his baritone voice. “I wouldn’t have offered you my place to stay in if I didn’t live in a nice place.”
           Your eyeballs bulged from their sockets, your jaw slackened to reveal a clear display of astonishment on your visage, as your mind attempted, and failed miserably so, to wrap itself around the verity that soon you’ll be taking residency in this abode under the care and generosity of one of your best friends.
   “What? Is the apartment not up to your standards, [ Your Name ]?” This particular jest came from another close associate of yours. Donned with a blue cap with his maroon locks peeking from smaller unoccupied spaces, a white shirt, a flannel, loose trousers, and a merry simper saliently illustrating his tapered set of teeth, Rin Matsuoka slung his own bag over his shoulder as he positioned his vacant hand over his hip, his scarlet hues assessing you with the same playful manner Sousuke supplied you with in his interaction. “Did my apartment in Australia broaden your taste?”
  Your lips parted to retaliate to his comment, your words just by the tip of your tongue when you felt a tug on your clothing just by your bust. “Mama,” A pair of sweet voices called for your attention in perfect unison, the sleepiness and enthusiasm segregating which voice belonged to who. Lowering your line of sight to your arms, you were met by your bundles of joy whose brownish eyes grew wide, one pair glossy with permanent timidity and the other just brimming with curiosity. Their hands bunched the fabric of your clothing in their small and chubby hands, as though begging you to keep your focus solely on them – and how can you not when they looked so adorable?
"Mama," Whimpered the more reserved twin, lips quivering as he registered the unfamoliar enviroment circling his tiny frame. Regardless of already being as close to you as possible, he nestled himself even further to your chest, cheek pressing on your bust. "Where are we?"
     A more enthusiastic voice interrupted you, a squeal of excitement laced on it. “Mama, Mama, Mama," Chanted the other in demand of your attention, to which you offered to him. "Are we back in Japan, Mama? Is this Japan, Mama?” [ Last Name ] Hiro, the older twin and son with a knack for making you exhausted as you tried your best to satisfy his needs ranging from running around in wherever location you found you and your sns were at, to jumping on the bed he shared with his younger brother demanding for more play time or a bed time story, questioned as he tugged at you twice. Two honey pairs of eyes regarded you with their own set of curiosity, and you nodded kindly at them, beaming.
  "That's right, Hiro. You and Mama are finally back in Japan." Your voice rose to match their excitement. "Aren't my babies happy?"
( Last Name ) Taichi casted his eyes down, cheeks puffing. "But I wanted to see airplane one last time . . . " Taichi was the younger twin and son, and practically the opposite of Hiro. Reserved, easily scared, has trouble communicating with strangers, and in all honesty, the easier twin to handle but that doesn't mean he didn't give you a hard time (you cannot count the times he interrupted your personal business and your time for yourself because he thought there was a scary monster following him. It was Hiro with a blanket over his heas thinking they were playing). Though he may be an opposite of his brother, that didn't stop them from being tightly knit with one another. Somehow, they balance each other out.
Kind of like . . . You caught your thoughts before you could finish it.
Hiro, upon sensing the turmoil coming from his little brother, smiled widely at him and extended his small arm to pat Taichi on the head. Taichi stopped his sniffling and looked up at his brother. "That's okay, Taichi. We'll go back to Aus-tri-lay again and then you'll get to see the airplane again. Right, Mama?"
You stopped yourself from frowning. You have never told them the real reason why you left Japan in the first place. In their mind, it was a vacation, a vacation that lasted for eight months. I can't tell them we went to Australia because I wanted to move on from their father.
"You two want to go back to Australia?" You pretended to whine. "Sou-kun will be really sad to hear that. He was looking forward to seeing his favorite boys."
     Immediately, the lethargy from your flight dissipated from their eyes, the name of the mentioned latter bubbled uncontainable excitement in them. “Sou-kun is here? Sou-kun is in Japan!” Hiro asked once more, voice pitched with the same sentiment controlling him. “I want to see Sou-kun, Mama! I want to see Sou-kun! Where is Uncle Sou?”
  Taichi chimed in. “I-I want to see Sou-kun too.” He uttered, face scrunching and his small hands turned to smaller balls of fist. “I missed Sou-kun . . . ”
            You stopped yourself from laughing at their obliviousness. You lifted your arms further up and nuzzled theit cheeks, both if them cooing at your affection. “He’s over there, silly. He picked us up from the airport but you two were being sleepyheads so you didn't know.” You rotated your body to face the opposite direction, giving your twins a clear sight of Sousuke and Rin bidding their polite farewell with the cab driver as he pulled away from the apartment complex. They let out a thrilled “ahh” as they spotted Sousuke, and disregarding your precarious hold on them, Hiro and Taichi began squirming in your arms, persistent to get closer to Sousuke. “H-Hey, Hiro, Taichi, please, don’t move too much!” You scolded them as you single handedly adjusted your position to keep them from slipping out of your arms. "Stop - moving - please - "
   But as they always did, they did not heed your command and it only seemed to encourage them to continue their actions. “Sou-kun! Sou-kun!” They did their best effort to reach out for Sousuke, stumpy arms reaching to his direction, as they cried out his name.
          Finally, at long last, at least in the opinions of your sons, Sousuke turned to face you and sent your sons a gentle smile. “Ah, almost didn't see you adorable rascals over there! How are my favorite nephews doing?” He walked over to you and just as easily as he brought your belongings out of the cab, he swooped the twins from your arms and into his. They did not waste time latching on to him, mimicking koalas, albeit a tad more affectionate and clingier. The burst into fits of laughter as Sousuke pretended to chomp on their cheeks, making sure not to hurt them in his process of returning their fondness. He pulled away, grinning as Hiro and Taichi looked up at him with admiration, honey colored eyee glittering. “I missed you two so much! So, so much! Did you miss Uncle Sou too?”
   Hiro was the first to answer. “Yes, very much!" He threw one of his arm up in the air. "Me, Taichi, and Mama missed you very much!”
      Taichi nodded in agreement to his brother. You feigned an action of vomit, however.
  Sousuke rolled his eyes at you and then chuckled at Hiro's answer. “That’s good. That’s good. Were you two good boys to your Mama?”
   “Hiro and I are always good boys!” Protested Taichi, cheeks puffing. "Always!"
        Hiro bellowed, “We always help Mama with chores! We make lunch for Rin-kun and take it to him in his swimming training!”
               You cannot help permitting your smile to broaden as you watched Sousuke interact with your sons. Your heart swelled at the sight, but it was soon dampened as a dark thought, which had always been lurking in the back of your mind, manifested and was quick to envelop your thought –
You cannot help but feel your heart swell at the sight of Sousuke interacting with your sons. Your smile was broadening, and the happiness surging as the laughter and idle chatters exchange from the three of them reached your ears.
Sousuke have always been their favorite uncle - and may Iwaizumi and Oikawa never learn that or your head is for them to throw out im the empty sea - and even though you told them early on that he was not their father, you knew that didn't stop them from seeing him as one. You couldn't blame them either. Sousuke has proven himself as a great father figure. He was the first person you told about your pregnancy with Hiro and Taichi. You called him in the middle of his own swimming practice, crying, and before you knew it, he ditched his training and travelled many hours to become you comfort and support. He was with you throughout your whole pregnancy - through the morning sickness, through the late night cravings, through the obnoxious and abrupt change of mood, through the days you cried from hardships, through the disagreements and fights with your family, through the times you missed your ex lover, through the times when money was strapped - and even after you gave birth to Hiro and Taichi, Yamazaki Sousuke was an ever present friend, and now an ever present father figure to your sons. He fulfilled the duties that your previous partner should be doing - welcoming them to the world with tears of joy, keeping them safe from harm, teaching them to grow up as good boys, scolding them when they do something wrong, treating them, being there for them, helping them play a prank on you, treating them sweets, holding them when they cried, holding them just because he loved them - Sousuke did everything that Miya Atsumu should be doing -
Miya Atsumu, oh, even his name alone vexed you.
Tension knotted your shoulders and your eyebrows met in the middle, creasing your forehead in the process. Your mood has soured completely at the thought of the man who left you - left you not because he did not love you anymore, but because of his dream. That was more selfish than falling out of love for you.
   You felt a palm softly hit your back, completely withdrawing you from the unwanted immersion of your hushed past and mistakes. You looked sideways and found Rin frowning at you; head cocked to one side. “I know that look all to well. We spent more than enough time to know what’s going inside that head of yours.” He chastised, and you lowered your head in shame. He stared at you for a while before sighing and then knocking his knuckles against your forehead. You looked up at him, bemused. “Look here, ( Your Name ), we didn’t spend eight months in Australia just for you to fall back to square one. You need to be careful with what and who you think. You don't know what could trigger you back to the person you used to be when you were still very hung up on that guy.”
     You did not answer him, not trusting your voice to speak for you. You knew Rin was right, and that you did not leave your home country in hopes of moving on from Miya Atsumu. And you thought you had, that you have successfully severed any connections and memories from him (deleted your social medias, dropped any people you two were mutual with, did not disclose your location and current living conditions to your parents and relatives, and making new social medias with care that he wouldn’t find them in case he decided to search for you), his existence merely a dot in an unfrequented portion of your mind. But after returning to Japan, with your chest puffed out and an adventurous grin decorating your brims asking the world to give you its best shot, you realized something – it wasn’t easy forgetting someone just because you left the very place that lingered with his name, because no matter how much you try to run from him, he gave you two precious gifts to remember him by.
"Hiro . . . Taichi . . . " You murmured to yourself as you gazee at your twins. God, even they look so much alike him. Their eyes, their smiles, their laughter, the way they pleaded with you when they wanted a kiss or hug, the way they always look for you whenever they did something they were proud of. How in the world could you move on from Miya Atsumu when it felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever you see your sons?
 “Can you maybe stop thinking about him? I just told you to stop thinking about that volleyball - ” Rin gagged as the profession of your ex boyfriend left his lips, tongue poking out, and you rolled your eyes at his playful display. “ – player. Stop being so stubborn.”
      “I wasn’t thinking about him.” You defended but your protest was nothing to be given trust on, and Rin knew this. Although he wasn't as constant as Sousuke on your pregnancy due to his busy schedule as an Olympian (and not to mention he was in Australia most of the time), he was still your best friend and never missed a day to face time you and check up on you. When you were pregnant and he was in Australia, he insisted being there for your check ups via facetime. But you didn't allow it because it felt weird. Whenever he was back in Japan, he would go straight to you and tend to you like Sousuke did. He cried the hardest when Hiro and Taichi were born and also gave you ideas for their names. He was just as great as a friend as Sousuke, but was probably their last favorite uncle. Sousuke being first, Iwaizumi being second, Sugawara third and him fourth but perhaps the titles has changed after Hiro and Taichi hung out with him in Australia. He was basically their father figure in Australia and he sure acted like one.
     Rin raised his eyebrow at you, not convinced. “Sure, you weren’t.”
              You lifted your nose, scoffing. “Fine, fine, you got me, I was thinking about him." Rin opened his mouth to scold you but you cut him off. "But only because he looks so much like my sons.”
  “He’s their father, [ Your Name ]. That’s how it works.” Rin playfully pointed out, smirking. “Just stop thinking about him. It's because you're entertaining the thought of him that he keeps coming back to you mind.”
                                       You let out an astounded gasp, hands coming to cover your agape mouth. “Stop thinking avout him -oh wow, Rin, I didn’t think of that! God, it was that easy? It was that easy?” Your sarcasm dribbled from your statement, and this time it was Rin who rolled his eyes. “If only you told me that earlier, if only I thought of that earlier, I wouldn’t have wasted so much money going to Australia with you! So, thank you again, Matsuoka Rin, for your wisdom. May you grace me with it once again in the future.”
    “Oh, haha, that's very funny. But nice try, ( Your Name ). You're not distracting me from this talk.” Inputs Rin, successfully diverting the subject back to its original track. You scowled. “After everything I've done for you. After all the efforts I put to make you forget about the dude – ” He ignored you as you tried to defend yourself. “ – He's nothing but a selfish prick, ( Your Name ). He abandoned you for his dreams. How can you still be hung up on him? I told you volleyball players were good for nothing but you never listen to me.”
You look at him, incredelous. You only hate volleyball players after what happened to me because of Atsumu. You held back a chuckle. Rin, you little goofball.
              You crossed your arms just as Rin did, and you continued sneering teasingly at him. “Rin, if my memory serves me right . . .” You began, voice high with vague intention.
         Seemingly picking up the mischief in your tone, Rin glared at you, as if daring you to continue your remark. “[ Your Name ], don’t you dare – ”
                        “Weren’t you rooting for him to be my boyfriend before?” You continued, smirk growing even wider as Rin spluttered at your words.
  Rin mirrored the color of his hair at the recollection and he stomped his feet at you, causing you to burst out laughing. "O-Only because I didn't know about his true colors before. Sure, he was charming and cool when I met him b-but - " Rin cleared his throat, eyes closing. " - he abandoned you, so I don't like him anymore, and I'll never root for him again. Not even for his team! He can break an ankle in his game or something. I still haven't forgiven him for what he did to you." You can feel the spite for Atsumu coming off from Rin as he carried on. "He has to get through me and Sousuke first before he can even lay eyes on you!"
         "How sweet. My very own censorship from Miya." You shook your head in appreciation and patted his back. “I don’t doubt that, Rin. And I’m sorry if it’s taking more time to forget about that volleyball player bastard as you often call him. But do you really think I can easily forget the father of my children?”
     Rin looked down on the pavement beneath his feet, eyes opening. “No,” He pouted, and you nodded to affirm his reply. Then, he turned to you, pouting. “But promise me he’s no longer part of your life.”
                        “He never will be again.” You promised. “Now stop being a dramatic baby. I’m an adult you know, and a mother. I think I can handle another month or two of being slightly heartbroken.”
 “Yes, yes, strong and independent woman who cries when Hiro and Taichi don’t sleep in their bedtime.” He jabbed at you.
                “Of course, you have the right to say that. Strong and independent Olympian who cries at sappy love stories.” Came your scoffing rebuttal, and instead of growing embarrassed, Rin laughed. You softened as you watched Rin laugh. He’s trying really hard to help me move on. You gulped, finger twitching. I won't let them down. I'll forget about Miya soon.
      “Mama, Mama! Lookie, lookie!” You turned to look back at Sousuke and your sons as soon as you heard Hiro calling for you. Amusement graced you mien as you watched Sousuke spin around with his hands holding on tightly to Hiro and Taichi who were draped over his shoulders. Your sons bore a sunny smile and were laughing joyously at Sousuke's antics. “We’re in a Ferris Wheel, Mama! Wee!”
                “Wee!” Echoed Taichi, and regardless of his reserved demeanor, he looked just as happy as his brother.
    You fluttered your fingers at them. “I can see that!” You bellowed with a titter. “I'm glad you two are having fun but Sou-kun is not a Ferris Wheel, you know? He'll get very dizzy soon, and so will you.”
            Despite of the spinning figure Sousuke was, you can still catch Hiro shaking his head in disagreement to your declaration. “No, no! I’m a strong boy, I don’t get dizzy, Mama!”
  “Not dizzy, Mama!” Taichi echoed once more. “I’m strong too! Me and Hiro strong!”
     “I know you two are strong. You’re my strong little boys, after all." You cooed. "But if he doesn't stop then you won't be able to see Sou-kun's new place! He even prepared a really big bedroom for us with a really big and bouncy bed. You can play there all you want.”
           Sousuke slowly stopped his twirling, panting and sweating but still smiling. Hiro and Taichi, realizing that Sousuke has stopped, whined in protest, demanding for him to continue spinning them. He shook his head, chortling. “Sorry boys, but we need to listen to your mother.” He slipped them off his shoulders and back to his arms. “Besides, don't you want to see Mochi already? I reckon you miss him, and he misses you too.”
 Just like that, the disappointment in their eyes vanished and they stared at Sousuke, starstruck. They looked like they just heard the greatest news that was ever said in the world, and as kids who were ommensely obsessed with their furry friend, it might possibly be considered one. "Mochi!" Yelled Taichi, the familiar name resonating with him. "I miss Uncle Sou and Mochi!" He took hold of Sousuke's shirt, tugging at it. "Where is Mochi, Sou-kun? Is he with you?"
      "He's at my apartment, where you'll be staying for a while." Answered Sousuke. "Ready to go there now? I bet Mochi is waiting for you by the door right now."
  Sousuke did not receive a verbal answer, but he did take how Hiro and Taichi tore themselves away from him, miraculously landing on the ground safely, and taking off to the direction of the apartment complex with short and quick footsteps, hands interlinked, as an appropriate answer to what they want. Rin jogged over to them and opened his arms, beaming with his eyes closed. “Do you want Uncle Rin to carry you to Sou-kun's place? I know where it is!” Offered Rin merrily, awaiting their acceptance to his proposal. However, he was left hanging abd disappointed as Hiro and Taichi passed him in a hurry to get to the entrance of the complex, shaking their heads.
"No!" Hiro rejected, shaking his head. "Uncle Rin always smell like chlorine! I don't like!"
     “Stinky Rin-kun.” Taichi added as he stuck his tongue out. “Rin-kun always smell like swimming poo!”
                        You and Sousuke shared a laugh as you watched Rin freeze, his smile and arms still in their position. His luggage fell from his grasp and on to the ground as he carried on with his frozen stance. Sousuke took your luggage and gave you one to carry. You took it from him the two of you walked and passed Rin without batting an eye to his still frame.
   “At least we know who’s the favorite uncle.” Chuckled out Sousuke as he looked over his shoulder to appraise Rin, grinning.
            “We all know the favorite uncle is Iwaizumi.” You pointed out. “I bet he can spin faster than you do, Sou.”
          Sousuke nudged your side, a light sting of pain running down the portion of your body which has collided with his elbow. You let out a yelp and rubbed your sore rib, glowering at the tall and lean swimmer beside you. “You’d really choose a volleyball player over a swimmer to be Hiro and Taichi’s favorite uncle?”
                      “I’m not choosing anything or anyone. I’m only telling the truth.” You shrugged. “Could be Suga too.”
   Sousuke curled his lips in a playful manner, feigning discontentment. “Then it seems I have some tough competitions.”
       You, Rin, and Sousuke easily caught up with your sons as their smaller frames were no match for your larger strides. Sousuke and Rin walked beside one another and walked with confidence as they have the knowledge of the layout of the apartment complex and knew the exact room which Sousuke occupier, and you walked behind Hiro and Taichi who were still holding hands and happily skipping behind the swimmer.
You watched as the two pairs interact with their counterpart, energetically sharing stories and laughter with one another. Rin and Sousuke were talking about the nearing olympics in a few months time, how the training was going in Australia, and when can Sousuke safely venture back to competitive swimming with the same harsh regime as Rin without fracturing his fragile shoulder. Hiro and Taichi, on the other hand, were singing foreign childrens' songs they heard in Australia, and although most of their sung lyrics were incorrect and far from fluent, they made up for it by adding their own twists and words into the song and creating a perfectly new song for themselves. Their hands never once relented as they walked on.
You cannot help but smile as you gazed at their interlocked hands. It was nice seeing your favorite boys getting along well. But that thought drew in a darker thought, one that you have constantly dismissed, but this time, you couldn't anymore.
You glanced beside you, and alas, you had no one. No one to hold hands with like your sons, and no one to freely chat with like your best friends. You looked down, saddened. The loneliness crept back to you, the loneliness you always fought hard not to fall into whenever you found yourself alone and with no person to accompany you. It reminded you that everyone had someone -Hiro had Taichi, Taichi had Hiro, Rin had Sousuke, and Sousuke had Rin. Who do you have?
I thought I had Atsumu.
"Mama?" Your stupor has come to a stop, and the loneliness has disappeared as familiar voices rang in your ears. Your sight cleared and you spotted Hiro and Taichi by your feet and were staring up at you, worry written all over their cute faces.
 Composing yourself, you cocked your head to one side, perplexed. "Yes? What is it?"You asked and bent down to their level. They continued staring at you, their lips pursed as they leaned forward to your frame. "Does my babies need anything, hm?"
          Hiro and Taichi, then, exchanged looks before nodding with one another. You stared at them, confusiom increasing. Despite being their mother, you never understood how Hiro and Taichi can communicate with one another without speaking. It was quite impressive.
Hiro and Taichi released their hands from one another and hurried over to your side. They reached down to take your hands in their soft snd gentle grip, Hiro holding one hand and Taichi holding the other. You stood up rose from your previous position, switching your curious gazes from Hiro to Taichi. In front of you, Sousuke and Rin has stopped and shifted their bodies to oversee the scene unfolding behind them.
"Mama, don't be sad. We don't like it when you're sad." Whimpered Taichi, and Hiro nodded in agreement. "We'll hold your hand too, so you can be happy like us!"
"Smile too, Mama! We love Mama's happy smile!" Yelled Hiro, leaping once. "See? Smile like this Mama. It's so easy!" Hiro showed you his biggest smile.
     You stared at your twins, heart melting as their innocent smiles displayed on their chubby faces. You closed your eyes, shooting your bundles of joy a comforting smile.
                               Right. You thought. I'm not quite alone, if I think about it. Not with Hiro and Taichi.
You smiled back at them. "Yeah, sorry about that. Mama was just thinking about something." And then you all carried on with your journey to Sousuke’s place, slowing down your pace to keep up with the skips of your sons as they held on to your hands tightly.
It didn’t take long until you arrived in Sousuke’s front door, his place located at the second floor. You were barely settling your stance by the door when you heard tiny footsteps padding from inside, followed by incessant pawing on the other side of the door and series of whines. You felt excitement bubble inside your chest as you heard the familiar noises of your dog. The last time you have seen your cute little Shiba Inu was when you left him in Sousuke’s care, and in hindsight, it was a pretty terrible decision to make as you knew Sosusuke and Mochi were not in good terms, and for absolutely no reason. When you handed Mochi to Sousuke hours before you left to get to the airport, you can see the disdain on both their faces and Mochi was growling at him as you left his house.
Mochi disliked Sousuke the moment they first met each other and Mochi had been keen on making Sousuke’s life a living hell ; whether it be destroying his bed, peeing on his pants, pooping on his shoes, stealing his food from the table, putting his medals in trashcans, just about everything a bad dog could do and perhaps worse and you wondered how Sousuke survived a whole eight months with the devil dog as he often called Mochi.
It was strange how Mochi hated Sousuke when he got along well with Rin.
         Hiro gasped and pointed at the door, turning his head to face Taichi. “Taichi, it’s Mochi!” Shouted Hiro. Immediately, Hiro tore away from you and Taichi went after him. Sousuke and Rin got out of their way, allowing them to be the first to enter the apartment. Sousuke twisted the doorknob after unlocking it and pushed open the door, and before a larger space could be provided to accommodate the small body of your pet, a faint color of brown and white dashed out from the apartment and tackled your sons to the ground.
  “Taichi, Hiro!” You shouted, rushing over to them to console them at their ungraceful plummet but you stopped dead on your tracks when you heard Hiro and Taichi laughing as Mochi stood over them with his little paws pressing on their tummies, tongue hanging out and a visible happy smile stretching his panting mouth. “Mochi!” They both called and Mochi let out a small bark of recognition before proceeding to run his tongue over their chubby cheeks, showing his excitement over their return and love for them.
                    Rin grinned as he watched Mochi lick Hiro and Taichi, and he bent his knees and smacked his hands against his thighs a couple of times. "Come here, Mochi. Come here." Mochi turned his head to look at Rin, and slowly and carefully trotting away from Taichi and Hiro to approach Rin. Mochi's tongue was poking out on one side and he was panting as he looked up at Rin. “Hey there, good boy.” Cooed Rin as he stroked Mochi’s head, and the dog let out a whine bark at his actions. “Have you been a good boy to Sousuke? Hmm? I bet you were, I bet you were such a good boy.”
      Sousuke scoffed and turned his nose in disgust as Mochi wagged his tiny ball of tail at Rin. “This dog could get lost and I won't bat an eye.”
  Hiro and Taichi sat up, tilting their head at what Sousuke has said. They turned to you, “Mama,” Called Hiro. “What does Sou-kun mean?”
                  You shook your head and approached them. “Nothing, baby. He’s just being mean to Mochi again.” You answered as you heloed them up to their feet. "There we go."
           Sousuke rolled his eyes – “Yeah, as if the dog didn't force me to buy new furniture every week because he won't stop chewing on them!”
Mochi didn't look at Sousuke even when his voice rose. He just let Rin pet and stroke his head.
 Hiro stomped his foot on the ground and Taichi clutched your shirt. “Sou-kun, don’t be mean to Mochi!” Scolded Hiro as he pointed a finger at him. "You can't be mean to dogs, okay?"
"But Mochi has been very mean to Uncle Sou." Sousuke put on a mask of face sadness. "He even but me here on my ankle. See?" Sousuke showed Hiro the tiny marks of teeth Mochi left when he tried to bite him.
Mochi barked at Sousuke, surprising all three adults. Why did it sound like Mochi understood what Sousuke said?
Hiro narrowed his eyes at Mochi and crossed his arms. "Mochi," He chirped and Mochi turned to him, ears flopping at his tone. "Bad Mochi. Mochi shouldn't be mean to Uncle Sou too!"
         Mochi whimpered with mild shame, and Sousuke smirked. “Yeah, that's right, Mochi,” Began Sousuke, pride encapturing him. “You should be nice to Uncle So - ” His arm extended to pet Mochi but before his palm can touch his fur, the Shiba Inu turned around, head snapping opposite of the direction of Sousuke as though he was a snobbish and spoiled dog repulsed by hid filthy hand and then ran up to you, standing up and putting his paws on your legs.
  You giggled and scooped up Mochi. He leaned forward to press his nose on your own, and began licking your face. "You missed me, Mochi? I missed you too." You cooed, snuggling Mochi. "I wish we could have brought you to Australia but it'll be a hassle."
       “Mama,” You heard Taichi whimper and you look down to see him staring up at you with teary eyes. He tugged at your shirt. “Mama, I want to play with Mochi.”
  You put Mochi back down on the ground and the dog ran back to your sons, circling them before rushing back to the apartment. Hiro and Taichi chased after Mochi, laughing.
                             Sousuke let out a sigh, and Rin smirked as he entered the apartment. “At least we know who the favorite dog uncle is.” Bantered Rin.
Sousuke tried to give Rin a soft kick on his lower back, but the supposed victim of his managed to flee from his assault, causing Sousuke to click his tongue. You and Sousuke went inside the apartment and stowed your belongings away in the room he reserved for you. It was spacious and can accomodate you and your two sons. One king sized bed with two windows overlooking the beautiful outdoors. After stowing your baggage away, you exited the room to find Hiro and Taichi playing with Mochi by the couch, and Rin seated on one of the chairs in the dining room, cap off and body easing.
     “Thanks again for letting me stay here, Sousuke.” You stated as you and the said male joined Rin in the dining room. You pulled out a chair and sat in front of Rin, and Sousukr occupied the chair beside you. "Really, thanks. I just . . . " You paused to gather your thoughts. " . . . I don't think I'm ready to face my parents just yet."
 “You can stay here as long as you want, just don’t leave that devil dog with me ever again.” Sousuke glanced at Mochi and your sons. "I don't think I would survive another day alone with that thing."
"I'm surprised you survived." Commented Rin. "When we landed on Australia, I was expecting a call from you maybe complaining about Mochi or reporting that he ran away from you or something. Surprisingly, none."
"Trust me. I was this close to calling. But I knew how important the trip to Australia was for ( Your Name ) so I didn't." Sousuke answered. "I can tell you everything that happened to me and Mochi, but that would take too long so I won't bother. It'll bore you anyway."
               “Thanks for that too, Sou.” You giggled nervously. “I guess Mochi is a little handful for you. I’m sorry.”
 Sousuke heaved a sigh. "Don't say sorry. It's over now." He spoke. "Anyway, enough about me and Mochi. How was Australia? And how is, uh . . . " He cleared his throat. " . . . moving on going?"
                        “It was fun in Australia, yeah.” You answered joyously, ignoring Sousuke's last comment. “Sure, it was scary to be out of the country for the first time, but Rin helped me adjust and brought me, Hiro and Taichi to tourist destinations. He even bought me a bunch of souvenirs!”
         Sousuke nodded, a soft smile plastering to his brims. "I'm glad you liked it there." Remarked he. "I heard from Rin you and the twins always visit him in his practice."
“Yeah, yeah. [ Your Name ] would always drop by to give me lunch. And sometimes she'll even help with training.” Rin inserted. “To be honest, I prefer her training regime than Mikhail’s. Just-Just don't tell that to Mikhail.”
                  “I kinda understand why you'd think that. Although Mikhail was a great swimmer back then, [ Your Name ] has practically been our coach when we were still in Sano. It's only natural she knows what training is more effective on you.” Sousuke leaned against his chair. "And what's Mikhail take on her helping you?"
            Rin let out a nervous chuckle and you produced a genuine laugh. “Actually,” You started, still laughing. “Mikhail wasn’t very fond of the idea, but . . . ”
  Rin shook his head, red hair moving with his actions. “They bonded over my muscles and that gained her approval from Mikhail.”
"Now, don't sound so disappointed, Rin." You badgered. "I think it's great someone else appreciates how well proportioned you are. Plus, it got me Mikhail's permission to continue helping with your training."
                                  Sousuke threw his head back, laughing. “Of course, it would be something as stupid as that. I still don't understand what's up with Rin's body that got you so worked up buy at least it all worked out for you.” He voiced. “How about Hiro and Taichi? Did they have fun too?”
"Oh, they had fun. More than they should have. They were all over the place - my God - even in the airplane." You informed. "They keep trying to run from me because everything was so interesting to them. I love my sons, really, I do. But when I was in Australia, I contemplated buying both of them leashes just so I won't lose sight of them."
            “All over the place? That’s an understatement.” Huffed Rin. "Those two nearly gave me a heart attack when they jumped in the pool."
Sousuke blinked, as though trying to register what Rin had just said. "Wait - What?" His back straightened and his brows furrowed. "Jumped in the pool - Hiro and Taichi - what?"
"Exactly as you heard." Confirmed Rin. "They always catch me out of the pool when they stop by to give me my lunch. But there was one time when Mikhail made me try a new drill so it was taking me a little longer to finish my practice. Hiro thought he'd be a good little boy and try to call for me, so he went ahead and jumped in the pool. My only guess is that he thought the pool was shallow."
Sousuke looked over at you, and you ducked your head in shame. Rin noticed the accusatory glare sent your way by Sousuke and he shook his head.
    “Don't blame ( Your Name ). Hiro actually tore himself away from her when she was tying Taichi's shoes and came looking for me.” Said Rin. “Taichi followed afterwards because everything Hiro does - ”
Sousuke sighed. " - Taichi does."
"Thank God one of my teammates saw them and saved them." Rin breathed. "And you can't get mad at Hiro and Taichi because even though they nearly got themselves killed, they had pure intentions."
Sousuke looked over at you. “Perhaps it is time to buy them a leash.”
            Rin snorted. “Especially Hiro.”
                        “Huh?” Hiro and Taichi poked their heads out from behind the sofa, Mochi joining in after a few seconds. “Did you call me, Rin-kun?”
  “I heard leash!” Yelled Taichi. “Are we going to buy a new leash for Mochi?” Mochi let out a woof as he heard his name being mentioned.
      You shook your head, smiling. “No, no, we're talking about something else. Just go back to playing with Mochi.”
Hiro and Taichi both nodded and was about to return to playing with your favorite Shiba Inu when Hiro noticed the click. He let out an excited gasp and poked his head behind the couch again, grinning. "Mama, Mama! Sou-kun, Rin-kun!" Hiro yelled as he flailed his arms to get your attention. "TV, I want TV!"
    “TV?” Asked Sousuke, head craning to look pass you and to your older son. "Oh, do you want to watch something?"
  Hiro nodded enthusiastically and pointed at the large flat screen television in front of the couch. "It's three PM! There will be replay of Tsumu's team!" Shouted Hiro, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying hard to control yourself. "Can you open the TV for me and Taichi, Uncle Sou? Pleaseeee?"
     Rin casted a worried glance your way as Sousuke stood up to turn on the television. Hiro and Taichi practically buzzer with excitement as they patiently waited for the television to come to life and they cheered once it did.
After changing the channel to the correct channel, you saw from where you sat in the apartment a longshot of the volleyball court displaying in the screen. It was filled to the brim with volleyball enthusiasts and fans of either teams. You can hear the cheers coming from opposite sides and the commentators were discussing their speculations on the upcoming game. Hiro and Taichi hopped off the sofa, wobbled over to the front of the television, sat down and gazed up at it, eyes shining and excited. Mochi left the couch as well and settled himself beside Taichi.
                 “[ Your Name ],” Said Rin after Sousuke has returned. You can hear the hesitance amd softness in his voice. “Are you okay?”
"At least I don't have to bring up the whole moving on trip all over again." Murmured Sousuke.
The truth to be told, even you didn't know. Anyone bringing up Miya Atsumu was fine with you, but hearing your sons mention him in the kind of way that was filled with adoration - you can't help wonder about the what ifs.
You let out a deep sigh and nodded. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Your answer came out dismissive, causing Rin and Sousuke to exchange looks. "I can't really stop my sons from admiring him, that would be childish and stupid. I mean . . . " Your forefinger dragged along the surface of the desk, and you watched the skid mark you left behind slowly vanish. " . . . Atsumu is a great athlete, and so are his teammates. I can't deny that."
You can hear the cheers grow louder in the television as the players of both teams are being introduced to the spectators.
"Playing against them is the Black Jackals Volleyball team! Introducing, their setter - Miya Atsumu - "
      Hiro and Taichi threw their hands up in the air, reaching out for the screen. "Tsumu!" They both shouted, and despite yourself, you turned to look at the screen. You froze as you watched a familiar face emerge in the camera, a carefree smile plastered on his face as he waved at everyone present in the court before proceeding to give high fives to his team.
"High five!" Yelled Hiro as he stood up from the ground to press his tiny hand on the screen. On cue, the camera followed Atsumu as he ran pass the camera, waving at it before making his way to the court, giving his other teammates the opportunity to be introduced.
Hiro looked at his hand which he had pressed against the screen and turned to you. "Mama, Tsumu gave me a high five, Mama!"
You smiled at Hiro as a reply while Taichi sniffled, tears brimming his eyes. "I want a high five from Tsumu too."
Hiro looker at his hand again, thenat Taichi, then at his hand before pressing his palm against Taichi's. Hiro grinned. "There, now you have a high five from Tsumu too!"
                         You looked at Sousuke and Rin, pausing for a brief moment to gather your thoughts. “See that? I’m not going to keep my sons from admiring him just because I have history . . . bad history with him. Besides . . . ” You swallowed as you looked at Hiro and Taichi eagerly waiting for the introduction of the teams to finish. “This is the closest they can get to Atsumu.”
                           Sousuke and Rin did not speak and looked at Hiro and Taichi as well. After a moment or so, Sousuke broke the silene. “If it makes you feel better, it’s Rin’s fault for introducing the twins to volleyball.” Said Sousuke, pointing at Rin with his thumb.
   Rin leaned back, appalled by the bold accusation. “How is that my fault?”
                      “You left the TV in the sports channel after you watched your interview and they saw Miya Atsumu –”
Rin shot Sousuke a glare. "Oh, so we're talking about past mistakes now." The maroon haired man adjuster his sitting position. "How about you, Sousuke. Let's talk about the time you bought Hiro and Taichi hair dyes - "
      Sousuke turned away, flushing red. "I said I was sorry."
"Now, ( Your Name ) has to think about that stupid blond volleyball player every time she looks at her now blond sons." Fought Rin.
   “Not every time, just sometimes.” You protested.
"I get it, I get it, I messed up." Relented Sousuke. "But you'd do the same thing if Hiro and Taichi begged you. Still, I'm sorry."
You smothered your laughter to your throat. You can just imagine how difficult it was for Sousuke to try and deny Hiro and Taichi from getting hair dye. They know how much power they have over Sou. You thought, amused. Probably used their puppy eyes or something.
              “You should be sorry.” Affirmed you, wiggling your finger at Sousuke. “Rin had to talk me out of punching you.”
    Rin curved a smug smile to his mien. “I was tempted to let [ Your Name ] do so just for fun.”
                                 “Uwaa,” You heard Hiro and Taichi coo in sync as you heard the cheers from the television diminish. You shot a glimpse at the television to see the entire stadium has gone quiet as Atsumu prepared to serve. His eyes shone with determinstion, and the twins eyes glimmered as they awaited his serve. A service ace, they hoped.
              “You don’t have to worry about me guys.” You told Rin and Sousuke, features soft as you turned back to them just as Atsumu began moving. The cheer erupted again, and your twins joined their noisen “Australia has been a nice change of pace, and Rin has helped me a lot. I haven't moved on, to be honest. Not completely, but I'm there, somewhere. I just need . . . " You inhaled. " . . . to learn how to live before Atsumu entered my life.”
                                    Sousuke folded his arms, nodding. Rin reached from across the table to ruffle your hair, his pointy teeth flaahing at you. "We know you'll get there. Just take your time, ( Your Name )." Encouraged Rin.
     You smiled back at him, thankful for his words and action. “I’m fine, really.” You pressed on. “Plus, I’m going to be even better tomorrow."
"Why? What's with tomorrow?" Questioned Sousuke.
"After a good night's rest, I'll be meetint up with Suga and Iwa." You responded cheerfully.
           “I didn’t know about this.” Sousuke narrowed his eyes. “You just returned to Japan and you’re already making plans.”
"I don't know how you can move on from Miya when you're literally friends with two ex volleyball players." Complained Rin.
"Oikawa will be there too." You added.
Rin raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that better?"
"They're my friends, Rin. I won't dump them just because they used to play volleyball." You defended, exasperated. "And speaking of," You twisted your body to face Sousuke and before he can speak, you reached out and took his calloused hand in yours. "Sou, I have a favor to ask you."
  Sousuke didn’t let you continue and tugged his hand away from your grip. “No,”
                   You pouted, hand withdrawing from him. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
  “Were you going to ask me to look over Hiro and Taichi while you’re out?” Affirmed Sousuke.
 You tittered nervously. You pressed the tips of your forefingere against each other, whispering, “Maybe?”
    “Then no.” Finalizer Sousuke.
                        You slouched against your chair, whining. “Oh come on,” You prolonged the verbalization of the last word with a voice of complain.
      “Why don’t you just bring them with you?” Offered Rin.
  “I want to but I feel like I just want to talk to Suga and Iwa without having to worry about them eavesdropping. They don’t have to hear my problems.” You explained. "Please, Sou,"
           “I can always babysit them.” Rin perked up at his own suggestion. 
You shook your head. “No way, Rin. I know you planned on meeting with Haru-kun and Makoto-kun tomorrow. You’ll either cancel on them or cancel on me.”
     “I can always invite them here, that way I won’t cancel on anyone.” Rin suggested.
 “In my apartment? No way. It's crowded as it right now,” Sousuke rejected and faced you. “Fine, I’ll look after them, but come back quick, okay? You know how Hiro and Taichi get when you're gone for too long.”
                 "Thank you so much, Sou. You're the best." You smiled. You rose from your chair, fishing your phone out of your pocket. "I'll go tell them it's still on tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Mumbled Sousuke, scoffing.
Rin narrowed his eyes at you as you left the room. "Oi, ( Your Name ), what about me? Am I not the best too - oi, oi!"
You pretended not to hear Rin and retreated back to your room, giggling.
             ***
Hiro and Taichi, through wide and awed lenses, watched intently as the Black Jackals replay displayed the highlights of the game. Not once hace their golden eyes left the screen, too immersed with the game showcased in the television. Hiro had a big and wide smile on his face, and Taichi had a small 'o' formed on his lips. Mochi yawned as he looked over the twins.
"Taichi, Taichi, look," Hiro pointed as the television showed Hinata Shoyo jumping nearly over the net, hand raising to spike the volleyball. "It's Tangerine-kun!"
"Frog-kun!" Yelled Taichi. "Ah, Hiro, it's Kou-kun!"
"And Omi-san!" Hiro and Taichi let out excited cheering as they watched Sakusa slammed the ball on ground on the other side of the court, Bokuto coming up behind him to pat his back for a job well done.
"Uwaaa, that was so - " Hiro cut himself off as a familiar face popped up in the screen. The television showed Atsumu serving once more, and even the twins themselves, fell silent once again as they watched Atsumu do a service ace.
                 Hiro couldn't understand the feeling in his chest as he watched Atsumu serve. His hand buzzed with excitement, and all he wanted was to do what Atsumu was doing. Taichi turned to his twin and noticee the oddity in his visagen. He tilted his head. "Hiro?" Taichi called.
Hiro turned to Taichi, eyes glimmering. “Taichi, I want to be like Tsumu.” He pointed at the screen. "Do you think I can be like Tsumu?"
Before Taichi can answer, a commercial was played in the middle of the replay, and it displayed the whole Black Jackals team, and another volleyball team Hiro and Taichi were not familiar with.
Overlapping on their images were the words - Black Jackals Versus Red Bulldogs, catch them live tomorrow in Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium.
        Hiro gasped in excitement at the news. "Black Jackals are going to be here in Tokyo tomorrow! Taichi, Taichi, they're here in Tokyo!"
Taichi puffed his cheeks. "We can meet Tsumu?"
 Hiro nodded enthusiastically. “We can meet Tsumu, Tangerine-kun, Omi-san, and Kou-kum!” Confirmed Hiro. "Should we ask Mama to take us there?"
            "There's my favorite twins, Rin, all of a sudden, plopped down behind Hiro and Taichi, startling both of them and Mochi. Rin wrapped his arms around their torsos and pulled them to his lap. “What are you guys talking about?” He asked.
  "Uncle Rin, we're going to meet Tsumu tomorrow!" Said Hiro.
Rin laughed awkardly. "Oh, are you now?"
Taichi nodded. "Tsumu and friends - " Rin snorted at how Taichi has referred them. " - will be here tomorrow, in Tokyo."
"We'll ask Mama to bring us there. I know she'll be happy to meet Tsumu too!" Added Hiro.
"Ooh," Rin sucked in. "I don't think so."
"Huh?" Hummed Taichi, puzzlee by Rin's actions and words.
Hiro, however, did not notice this. "Maybe Mama will marry Tsumu when she meets him! Then we'll have a daddy!"
  "Hopefully not," Murmured Rin. "That won't happen, you know."
Hiro fell silent at that, and tears immediately began forming in his eyes. Taichi looked worriedly at him, whispering his name. Rin, on the other hand, was panicking. For the first time, Hiro was the crybaby.
"I-I meant that won't happen because your Mama can't take you to the game tomorrow!" Rin frantically added. "She has to meet your Uncle Iwaizumi and Uncle Sugawara!"
Hiro stopped sniveling at what Rin had shared with him. He wiped his tears. "Mama has to meet Iwa-kun and Suga-kun?" He whimpered. "Can't you take us there, Uncle Rin? Please?"
Rin looked away from Hiro and Taichi, knowing all too well he would fall in the same mistake as Sousuke if he looked at them. "Sorry, but your Mama won't allow that."
Taichi tugged at his shirt and he bit his lower lip, still trying to resist them. "Please, Rin-kun,"
"I want to bring you there but your Mama wouldn't let me." Explained Rin, sighing. "I'm sorry guys."
Hiro pouted and crossed his arms. "Then-Then," He breathed in, and cried out. "Me and Taichi will go there alone! A-And we'll bring Mochi!"
At that time, Rin thought Hiro was joking, so he did not take this declaration seriously. He merely nodded as he ruffled both their hairs. "Yeah, sure you will."
Rin did not make the same mistake as Sousuke, but he certainly made a worse one.
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sousuke is the favorite uncle of the four men. rin used to be last but after the twins have spent time with him in australia, he is now on par with sousuke
mochi hates sousuke because he smells something odd coming from him whenever you were present
hiro and taichi call sousuke, sugawara, rin, and iwaizumi either with a -kun or with an uncle
(taglist closed - @itzgabz22 @tnu-ree @adrasteiaxandromedaa @aquzairus @ephemeralsunny @jirachii-chan @lifeisnotdiajoubu @fandomtrashpandasposts @diyosku @agaashesmilktea @honey-pop-pop @toripersonalacc @kozukth @minty-mangos-world @kellesvt @obsessedwhxre @helloshoutohere @queenofallslay @sakusa-simp @tsukkx @kyomihann @yoitsseulgi @dinablossom @youpieceofwasabi  @riniii @jeonsthighs97 @shoutobabyboy @sillyroyalty @ushi-please  xstormiii @cowward @peachiikichu  @vantaekiim @nerdynstoned @hxked @melodiamore @renyfran @humanitysbiggestsimp @froyopet @stantalentstanunderratedgroups @mkazuyuh @booklover240 @miyayassy @marvelous-maxi @ptv-hades @koukatsuki@anihoesimp @hobobob38-blog @tintina365 @hai-q-haikyuu @cruelstring @les-i-m-miserable @somehowstillalive123 @bunny-on-crack​
current favorite uncle status - sousuke, rin, iwaizumi, sugawara
sousuke bought blond hair dye for hiro and taichi because they begged him to with their cute puppy eyes. don't worry he made sure it was safe for kids and he helped them even but never told yoi that part
the time you saw your kids blond nearly made you punch sousuke (as said in the story) but rin had to hold you back literally by your arms because he doesn't want sousuke to end up in the hospital
sousuke moved from his house to an apartment
vip - @1plus1kiyoomi )
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