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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

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What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition.

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #anti albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion

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sapphirelass · 3 years

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Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister!Reader

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

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

For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant.

Word count: ≈ 2400

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

You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/C) - Your hair colour

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

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

Two Peas in a Pod

Harry Potter and his twin sister (Y/N) were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas (Y/N) took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.

It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and (Y/N)’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, (Y/N), her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.

During the start-of-the-year feast, the small group of friends quickly realized that something was wrong. Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Dolores Umbridge - was a ministry employe, which was weird on its own, but the way she spoke, acted, and kept interrupting Dumbledore with shrill, irritating *hum hum*’s made them all feel queasy.

After a quiet discussion in the common room (and quite a bit of loud arguing between Harry and Seamus Finnigan), they went to bed, yawning, and not exactly looking forward to that year’s first period of DADA.

***

They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and (Y/N) shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and (Y/N) with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.

“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully

There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.

“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”

A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels - OWLs” she started. “Your previous teachers in this subject have all been quite questionable choices, however this year things will be the way they were meant to. Open your books on page 4.”

A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”

“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily

“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked

“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”

“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”

“Ha!”, laughed Umbridge, “And who exactly do you think would want to attack a helpless child such as yourself? Besides, the education you will receive will be more than enough for you to pass your OWLs, and that is after all just what school is about.” She finished with a smirk, looking rather satisfied with her speech.

(Y/N), who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though!

“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded

“School isn’t solely about receiving good grades! It’s about preparing the students for life, and supplying them with the tools and knowledge necessary in order to succeed and improve. If we’re not going to do that, then why, may I ask, is this a mandatory course? It’s already starting to seem rather pointless to me.”

Harry was perplexed. How his sister always managed to, 1: use her words in such a remarkable way, and 2: remain calm through the most infuriating of situations was a mystery to him, however he turned his gaze back towards Umbridge, waiting for her reply.

“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”

“How though?” Inquired (Y/N), pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”

That was the top of the iceberg.

“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”

(Y/N) flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. (Y/N) could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.

An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. (Y/N) threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.

“(Y/N/N)!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”

He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and (Y/N) knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.

“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”

She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice.

“Sorry…” (Y/N) mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave (Y/N) a supportive pat on the back.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “(Y/N), did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”

“Yes” stated (Y/N) simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”

“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”

Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as (Y/N) sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”

“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”

***

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when (Y/N) stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.

“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”

(Y/N) turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”

Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.

“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.

“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”

The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…

***

*knock knock*

There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. (Y/N) took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”

(Y/N) apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.

“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as (Y/N) reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.

(Y/N) grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”

“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”

***

It was about three hours later, when (Y/N) slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero.

She watched the thick, red liquid disappear down the sink and let a few tears fall, before grabbing some paper making sure no tears or blood could be seen. She had to make it through the common room up to the dormitories quickly though, since she was sure Harry would be able to tell she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Sure, she could just tell him, but something inside her argued against that. He had been rather angry and distressed all summer, and she knew he wasn’t feeling much better now. Harry had enough to deal with without handling her problems too.

Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side.

“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”

She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”

She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night (Y/N/N)”

She didn’t answer…

***

The following morning, he found her at the breakfast table, slowly digesting a tiny portion of porridge. She was wearing one of his old quidditch jumpers underneath her cloak. He knew, because it was far too big for her, and the sleeves reached down to her fingertips.

“Hey,” he said, ruffling her (Y/H/L), (Y/H/C) hair, “Feeling better?”

“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.

“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”

“Nothing…”

“(Y/N/N)!”

“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”

“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”

Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall.

***

A week or so later Harry had had enough. It was in defence against the dark arts, on a rather cold Tuesday afternoon that he finally snapped, and shouted at professor Umbridge, who seemed almost too happy for a reason to give him detention.

The gang sat, yet again, around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, when Harry suddenly left and climbed through the portrait hole. He came back a few hours later, a downright furious look on his face, and walked straight up to his sister without even noticing the ghost he had stumbled through. He looked down at her smaller frame, his quidditch jumper yet again pulled over her head.

“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing (Y/N) to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.

“Wha…”

“(Y/N) - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.

She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin.

I must obey my superiors

No one said a thing. (Y/N) was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.

Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.

Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.

Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years.

This was his sister, and it was far from okay.

Without thinking, Harry was just about to shout at her for keeping something like that from him, when he noticed that she was crying. Soft, quiet sobs that she were clearly trying to hide. It felt as if all his anger simply washed away, and he crouched down and took her hand in his.

Harry’s hand was still covered in blood. He hadn’t had time to clean it, but had instead taken the shortest way to the common room, after realizing what had happened. Raising his right hand, he pulled her closer and felt her lean her head on his chest. They sat like that, arms wrapped around each other, for hours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.

~ L

Masterlist

#harry potter #harryxsister #harry potter x twin #harry potter x sister #harry potter x sister!reader #harry x reader #harry x sister!reader #umbridge #detention #hp #hp imagine #stories #sister #siblings #twins #harry x sister

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pennylanefics · 4 years

Text

Soft Alphabet - Walter Hartright

a/n: so tumblr fucked me over again. i posted this an hour ago and everything but the title disappeared. yeah. fuck this app

•••

A - Affection (how do they show affection)

his words, 100%. walter can speak so eloquently and speak his mind whenever. his expressions of affection are always so sweet and loving, he uses metaphors, all that kind of stuff. after he’s done, you are so much more in love and can’t help but tear up and kiss him deeply. that’s how you show your affection for him, with kisses since you’re not as good with words as he is.

B - Balance (how do they balance you, work/school/life?)

obviously, when he’s living with your family, you two see each other every day. there is a balance between him working on your dad’s collection and him spending time with you, though, and it’s a pretty equal balance. far into your relationship, your dad finds out about you two, and thankfully, he’s super understanding and happy to know that you like someone as amazing and talented as walter. so, he gives walter days off if he’s seen that he’s worked hard, just so he can have more time to spend with you.

C - Cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling? what positions?)

he enjoys cuddles a lot. especially when you two go out to the garden. you will lean up against the gazebo, either inside or outside, and you will read whatever book you’re on and he’ll sketch out something he wants to draw; most of the time, it’s you. if you are his subject, he’ll ask you to sit in between his legs, against his chest. his sketch pad is beside him as he stares down at you. but if he doesn’t feel like drawing, he’ll lay on his back with you beside him, playing with your hair or rubbing your back.

D - Date (what was your first date?)

since he meets you while restoring your father’s paintings at your castle, your first date is simply tea in the garden. he chooses to do it on a cloudy day, so neither of you are sweating just sitting there, and you’re able to enjoy a nice cool breeze. you two sit and chat, enjoying your drinks and getting to know one another even more. walter is so sweet and kind and he flirts with you so much; he likes making you shy away and hide your smile from him, it only encourages him to tell you that he loves your smile and to not hide it.

E - Excited (how excited do they get when they see you/are with you?)

walter is SO DAMN SOFT WHEN HE SEES YOU. he blushes, he smiles softly, his eyes are filled with adoration and love and he reaches for you like a little kid. and when he pulls you close, he always nuzzles his face against yours, or in your hair. like he just wants to feel you with him and caress you because he loves you so much. the smile on his face, though? the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. it’s so bright and full of happiness.

F - Fighting (what happens when you fight)

he’s not a typically angry person, but when all the stuff with the woman in white was going on, fights broke out a lot more frequently. he was extremely stressed and overwhelmed so everything got to him. and you trying to help, was really no help. he only saw you as a threat and he would take his anger out on you. that didn’t make you too happy, and you usually got his mother to set him straight.

G - Gorgeous (pet names. what do they like to call you? what do they like to be called?)

he sticks to the sweeter nicknames. ‘honey’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘love’, ‘darling’. and he always uses the softest and cutest tone with you. he sounds so cute and innocent, even in more passionate times. he manages to make you smile every single time he uses one of these, no matter the situation and no matter the time of day. you could be half awake and he’ll call you one of those names, and you’ll shy away, hiding your face in his neck.

H - Hi (first time meeting)

he is commissioned to restore your father’s art collection, so you two meet when he is introduced. and right away, he is taken with you. he can’t help but flirt with you any chance he gets, away from your father of course, and you two spend a lot of time together, talking about his works and going through his many drawings. he’s so very sweet every day and that’s what makes you fall for him.

I - Intimacy (how romantic they are)

walter is very romantic. insanely romantic. when you two meet, he always lights candles and makes sure the room is cozy and comfortable. he also picks you roses, or any kind of flower, from any garden he can find and gives you them, sometimes putting a broken one behind your ear. he wants you to feel loved all the time, and making the room as romantic and sensual as possible is his favorite thing to do.

J - Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they react to you being jealous)

at times, he can get very jealous. though you rarely have contact with the town that much, since you are in your own little castle far from the actual city, there are times where he sees you chatting with a garden boy or a stable boy and he can’t help but feel a hint of jealousy. but then he remembers that you basically grew up with some of these people and he knows that you won’t leave him, based on what you’ve told him. but he’ll come up to you and whatever guy you’re talking with, and just wrap his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and telling you that your father needs you. that always makes the guy leave, knowing that he won’t keep his ‘employers’ daughter waiting. and every time, you smack walter’s chest for lying, but he makes up for it with kisses.

K - Kisses (where do they like to kiss you/how often?)

everywhere. if walter has the chance, he kisses all over your body. during more sexual moments, it’s something he does as foreplay. starting at your forehead, he peppers kisses all over your face, then neck and shoulders, moving down to your breasts, stomach, hips, and especially your thighs. he also loves to tease you with kisses leading up to your center, feeling you shiver under his touch. teasing you with kisses is his favorite.

L - Love (when was the first time they said i love you or realized it?)

he knows it right away. from the moment he met you, he knew you were special and important to him. but as to not creep you out, he waits to tell you until you say it. when you finally do, months into your relationship, that’s when he admits that he’s love you since the first day you met, and that he’s known in his heart from that moment you were the one. he of course makes you cry from happiness.

M - Moving in (when do you decide to move in together)

i mean, walter basically moves in with you when he comes to work for your father. so in a way, you’ve lived together since the beginning. but once he left, and you went with him, that’s when your lives together started. with the money he received from your family, and a lot more that he saved up, he bought a nice little house in the prairie, away from the town, with a nice lake and huge backyard. sure, you both are rarely there, having to travel here and there with walter when he does commissions, but when you do, it’s always a nice and relaxing time.

N - Newborn (their reaction to starting a family)

when you tell walter you’re pregnant, he is ecstatic. it’s not planned, of course, but he’s so excited to be a dad and have a family. you’re the one that’s terrified and scared, and he is so quick to assure you that things will be just fine. his mother helps agrees to help out when your baby comes, and you can’t be more thankful. he is so very loving and sweet during your pregnancy. he is constantly caressing your bump and getting you anything you need, anytime during the nine months. and when your daughter arrives, walter is even more in love and honestly the best dad around.

O - Open (how open you are with one another)

walter is very open, honestly. except for the stuff with the woman and having talks with marian. that’s what upsets you the most, that he’s not open with you about that stuff, leading you to believe that he was hiding an affair or something. after that whole incident, though, he promises to tell you things and let you in to his feelings and thoughts when they’re bothering him.

P - Photos (what kind of photos you take of them/they take of you)

since this is a time before cameras, the only way to capture something was to draw or paint. and boy did walter love doing this. you were his model all the time, even when you weren’t paying attention. he would draw you as you read in the garden, or as you lay in bed asleep. you’ve definitely modeled nude for him; it’s his personal favorite tbh.

Q - Quirks (what random habits do you have that they love or hate/vice versa)

you have a habit of biting the ends of his paint brushes while working. he started teaching you how to paint, and when you got the hang of it, you started doing it on your own, without his help. but when walter checks up on you, wherever you are, he always finds you chewing on the wooden brushes, concentrating on the canvas, trying to figure out what to do. he can’t help but smile and tease you about it; he finds it so cute and adorable.

R - Recovery (how you help them after an injury/vice versa)

he is so extremely sweet and caring when you’re injured. if you somehow hurt your ankle doing something, he orders you for bed rest, pressing a cool cloth to the area as gentle as ever as to not hurt you more. he wipes your forehead of the sweat and your cheeks of the tears you shed, and whispers that you’ll be okay. he’s just as worried as you, but he tries to stay strong for the sake of your anxieties.

S - Solution (how they resolve fights)

your way of resolving fights is to talk things out. but sometimes, walter’s not in the right headspace for that. so he cools off by drawing or painting. after a certain amount of time passes, you go into his drawing room and quietly try to fix things, and thankfully, walter is much more calm and collected, so he is able to talk things out rationally. also, lots of cuddles come afterwards.

T- Touch (when they need/want your touch, what will they do? how often?)

when he’s stressed out, he needs to be near you. any touch of your hand on him will do. you can simply hold his hand and stroke the back of it with your fingertips, or you can pull him in for a bear hug and just hold him for however long he needs. most times, it’s quick since he just needs a small reassurance and the simplest of touches is enough to make him feel better. but other times, you cuddle him for hours and talk about life and what’s stressed him out.

U - Up ( waking up with them)

mornings with walter? absolute heaven. he is so soft and sweet and looks like a literal angel. his blonde hair strewn all over the pillow, the sun shining on his face. when he opens his eyes, the sun makes his green eyes even more beautiful. the smile he has on his face when he sees you, even if you’re awake or asleep, he always smiles. he’ll also run his fingertips over your body and face, just caressing you and admiring you in the early hours or the morning.

V - Vacation (where they travel with you)

sometimes, when he has the chance, he takes you with him to the places he’s commissioned to paint. most of the time it’s castles, so you get to stay in really nice rooms and explore beautiful gardens. most of the time, you rarely see walter because you’re roaming around the property by yourself, finding nice spots to spend some alone time in. at the end of the day, you tell walter everything you saw and promise to show him what you found.

W - Wedding (how they propose/where you get married/honeymoon)

your wedding with walter is super super romantic and intimate. your parents were kind enough to allow you to have it in the garden of the castle you grew up in. walter’s proposal was laid back, there wasn’t exactly a ring or some grand gesture; he just flat out told you that he wants to marry you and spend the rest of his life with you. and you of course say yes. the wedding is in the gazebo that you two so frequently visited together, with your family, walter’s mom, and professor pesca, since he was the reason walter got the commission from your father. you don’t really take a honeymoon, since your home is away from everyone and a perfectly romantic place to spend alone.

X - X-factor (what about you captivated them?)

your love for art. being a painter, obviously this similarity is something that’s big for him. the fact that you love paintings made him fall for you more. when he showed you his personal collection, you gave compliments to each one, something different every time. that’s when he knew that you were the one for him, really. you were always so excited when he started something new and you were definitely a subject for him many many times.

Y - Yawning (how they act when they’re tired)

he gets very clingy when he’s tired. he’ll slouch against your shoulder, his hands playing with your own hand or your hair, or anything of his that he can reach. if you’re not doing something, you’ll just lay there and talk about your day, if it was spent apart. walter will close his eyes in content as he listens to your voice. sometimes, he can’t help but fall asleep sometimes; your voice soothes him and allows him to relax after a long day.

Z - Zzzz (how you fall asleep together)

walter loves falling asleep face to face. he enjoys watching you slowly close your eyes and fall into a deep sleep, so peaceful and innocent. once you’re fast asleep, though, he pulls you into his arms and cuddles with you, resting his arms around your waist. he’ll also play with your hair to relax himself, and eventually, he’s out like a light too.

#walter hartright #walter hartright imagines #walter hartright imagine #walter hartright x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #the woman in white #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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dennou-translations · 4 years

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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 5

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“The Military School of Leidenschaftlich’s Army does not inquire people’s social ranks. The gates are open to all youths, and anyone at least fourteen years old can devote themselves to it regardless of their gender. National defense means protecting everything you love.”

Where had I seen a bulletin with these contents again? If I was certain, it had been in front of our business partner wholesale store, when I entered and exited it on an errand for my family. One particular sheet had been standing out on a board where the townsfolk stuck anything they felt like, from job hunts to searches for people. While biting into an apple that I had received from the store’s owner as recompense for the errand, my thirteen-year-old self had gazed at it intently. It was a good-quality paper rendered perfectly straight, firmly nailed by thumbtacks in all four corners. Pushed into the paper at the end of the text was a gold screw, as well as red sealing wax, bearing the emblem of Leidenschaftlich’s army.

As a child, I had thought that was a pretty cool life choice. How stupid. Even I would want to laugh at myself for being so naïve. Back then, I had not yet come to know the meaning of granting and taking away lives. Truth be told, once I tried becoming a soldier, reality ended up crushing many delusions of mine, but that’s a tale for later.

Let’s go back to my current story.

There were many reasons why I had decided that “yeah, I’ll become a soldier”. One was that I’m the second son of a merchant household, and since my older brother was the one who would take over the inheritances, I wasn’t needed there. Another one was that, as I had been raised in a big family, I wanted to hurry and become independent so that I could have my own space. Yet another was that the name my parents had given me was “Claudia”, which had made me think of wishing to become manly. Lastly, well... my older brother’s fiancée was a beautiful woman just my type, so I had wanted to keep a distance from her. The most important was that I desired to protect the family I loved but wanted to depart from, I guess.

The war had been progressively intensifying back then. A resources conflict between North and South. It was that one messy Continental War of a few years ago, where a religious confrontation between the West and the East became involved.

Leidenschaftlich was the continent’s southernmost extremity. If we had been attacked at that point, our defeat would have been certain and my family would likely have lost their lives. Because I was fond of my town and my people, and because I was fond of Leidenschaftlich, enlisting had been an inclination from my spontaneous feelings. The many things that had happened to me at the time boosted them... and so, I decided to become a soldier. I applied without telling my parents, and as for the entrance exam, I took it after lying that I was going to hang out with friends.

When a letter of acceptance was suddenly delivered by a postman to my home, my Pops beat the hell out of me. I hit him back, though. Pops was surprised at that. So was I. Like, “Pops is surprisingly weak”. During childhood, people think that their guardians are damn huge existences...

Yup. My parents had probably been worried. Choosing soldier as profession earns you a higher mortality rate than from leading a normal life.

In the Military School, all officers living inside the dorms was something enforced, so no one had a choice but let go of their parents. Still, I was stubborn, so I took a photo of my family with me as I left.

Two years after that, I guess, was when it happened. I met Gilbert.

Gilbert Bougainvillea and Claudia Hodgins

Do you know the true meaning of that flowering tree’s name?

They bloom every year. They’re planted all over the country as roadside trees, and when spring comes, lovely white buds sprout on them. When the petals fall, they form a pure-white carpet that never melts away. During that time, the colors of the city disappear like in a snowy country. People who go abroad have their mouths agape when coming back. You don’t see that sight anywhere else. No matter where I go, I remember that scenery whenever spring comes about. It’s like an extraordinarily fine woman that you get to spend only a single night with. If you listened to the music playing while the two of you were sleeping together, you’d remember her. Just like that, I’d reminisce to it. Whenever spring arrives, my memories summon the past along with the white of those flowers.

Gem-like emerald-green eyes hidden under a deeply burrowed military cap. Lifeless fingertips from pale hands that would not move after reaching out to the person walking away on him. Whispered words not conveyed.

I’d recall over and over again the Gilbert Bougainvillea of that time.

Gilbert... Gilbert Bougainvillea. Right, I started this story in order to talk about him. I spoke too much about myself. Let’s discuss him.

Bougainvillea, Bougainvillea. A clan named after a flower. If you live in this country and ask about the Bougainvillea family name, you’d know that it’s a famous family of military descent.

Didn’t you know? Statues and things like that of his ancestors are all over the city. After all, Leidenschaftlich has a history of having fought other nations that attacked and invaded it since the distant past. It’s easy for brilliant soldiers to be treated like legendary existences. It went to the point where it could be said that a soldier come from the Bougainvillea family was someone sure to take up employment. Even at present, this hasn’t changed.

He’s the young master of a well-off house. Actually, his bloodline is a high-class one. It also had matrimonial ties with the royal family of the monarchy period from before the country was administered by the military. The royal family is used as a symbol nowadays, though.

If times were better, he’s a person who we would not be allowed to talk about so casually. Yup, right on. This is why you exist now. They have that much power. Why I became friends with Gilbert, you ask?

It all began in early spring at the Military Service School of Leidenschaftlich.

The Military School was located near the national border. So that it could become a shield at the very front in case something happened, you see. The way it started from an all-seeing tower surrounded by a sturdy fort was just like a fortress city. If you went inside, you’d be sandwiched by narrow stone walls in a pathway that went on for long, and after passing through it, you’d finally be able to get out at the square. The city of Leiden was made like that too, right? If there was an attack, we’d defend it at the entrance, and then engage in confront at an open space.

Did you know that there’s a height limit to the buildings of Leiden? Most buildings were erected to the same height. But public institutions built inside the country were pretty big. Yup, that’s right. High-rise buildings were intentionally constructed in fixed intervals. For the sake of long-distance snipers. That’s the kind of country we live in. Hearing it that way, you might imagine it as some ostentatious building, but it’d turn into a beautiful thing when spring came. The roadside trees in our country will bud with white flowers every year, right? Yes, that kind. Strangely enough, its name is “bougainvillea”.

I don’t know why his household has that surname, but surely it’s got something to do with the fact that those vines were planted all over the country.

The completely white carpet that can be made out of those tiny flowers falling little by little is a gentle beauty. That sight is enough to be sometimes praised as the “residence of angel feathers”. Those vines surrounded the Military School in rows.

A few years after having enrolled into it, my hobby was going on idle strolls during that time of the year, so I was taking a walk. I got greeted by a passing freshman. “The place you’re about to enter is hell~,” I thought to myself while greeting back with a smile.

It was warm and pleasant under the lively sunlight, and just as it was about to melt the insides of my head, I found an eye-opening person. What kind of person was it? He was a beauty. Yep, he was... the kind of beauty that you don’t see around so often.

It was about as lengthy as yours. His long black hair formed a lenient curve and his eyes were a deep green. He had handsome facial features that gave off an androgynous impression, but the long limbs that he was gifted with and his well-trained body looked pretty cool in the white naval uniform he was dressed in. That’s what people would say. He was the kind of man that other men would fall for on sight, so to speak. That was the kind of person he was.

He was arguing with someone. As the two were side-by-side, I could soon tell they were siblings. The big discrepancy was that the boy who was presumably the younger brother was the one with a more awe-inspiring look. The two had not noticed that a passerby like me was walking their way.

It was weird for a guy wearing a naval uniform to be in front of the army’s Military School in the first place. They piqued my interest, so I couldn’t help standing there to eavesdrop. I could hear what they were talking about in bits.

“Brother, you’re selfish.”

“It’s for your sake; understand it, Gil.”

“Why do you never tell me anything?”

“Then cut off our ties as brothers.”

“All I ever do is say yes.”

When the younger brother said so, I got sad and felt like siding with him. I was at loss, so I stayed as a spectator.

After a while, the two stopped yelling at each other, and the older brother deliberately took off the military cap that the younger one was wearing, reached a hand toward his head and patted it messily. The younger brother was making a face that seemed like he was frustrated from the bottom of his heart. As if to hide that face, the older brother buried the cap deep onto the other’s head, turned his back to him and left. He didn’t even turn to look at the younger brother, who was probably crying.

I felt bad for the boy and tried to go talk to him. But when I saw him raising his lowered head, I stopped. He wasn’t crying. As if none of the emotions that were there until just then had ever existed, his expression became cold and he went through the gates of the Military School.

That was the first instant I saw Gilbert. I had never seen a boy make a face like that before, so I just continued staring at his back as if I had grown senile.

It became the topic that a son of the family of national heroes had enrolled as the top student among the freshmen that year. I had skipped the freshmen’s entrance ceremony and didn’t see anything, so I had no idea, but thinking back about it now, that was him.

Despite all of us being fellow students, we didn’t get to interact with each other if our school years were different. Even if we had joined training, it was impossible to make a distinction since it was just men. What caused the occasion for us to properly meet face-to-face was a small incident.

The ratio of enrollment in the Army Service School of Leidenschaftlich was of seven men to every three women. The women’s duties were normally of telegraph soldiers or replenishment troops, so our curriculums were different, and of course, our dorms were separate too. Our curriculum? Running, running, running. Building muscle. Firing guns, firing, firing, running, running, running. A repetition of that. The rest was classroom lectures. We’d learn how to form strategies, set up camps and use communication equipment. There were also the subjects learned at ordinary schools like normal. The girls had it easier than us, but it didn’t change that it was hard for everyone.

Guys and girls who devoted themselves to national defense day and night getting into relationships away from the eyes of our demon-like instructors was something, well, natural. After all, we didn’t have any other form of amusement. Romance was an amusement.

I’d also played around with countless people myself, but I never had a love that went as far as making my body burn. In that point, I’m sure I might’ve never had a true love. I never stuck to only one person. I like all women, so loving just one feels weird.

No biggie for me. Romance was a diversion anyhow. But diversions can cause some pretty dangerous stuff to follow you around. There were times when it was just pleasure for me but the other person was betting their life on it.

Maybe due to that attitude of mine being the one to blame, one of the girls I had fooled around with pushed a letter of challenge onto me. A letter of challenge. Do you know them? Letters with contents like, “I hate you very much”, “I’ll send you flying”, “Be here on X day of X month”. That’s right. There are letters like those in the world too.

It seemed she was going out with me with the intention of getting married. I had no idea. No, really. I didn’t even lay a hand on her, y’know? Did we ever go as far as kissing? I’m serious, I tell you. Kissing is a greeting to me.

“I’ve got no choice but to apologize wholeheartedly for this in my own way.” Just as I thought so, when I went to the place I had been called over to, there he was. Who?

Gilbert Bougainvillea.

That boy I had seen on the day of the entrance ceremony, standing fleetingly in the middle of those white flowers with his head hanging down, was there. From the very start, he had been piercing me with a scornful emerald-green gaze as I walked over. He was fourteen, I was sixteen.

“Are you Claudia Hodgins?” was the first thing he said. Just like his face, his voice was gallant.

At fourteen years of age, Gilbert somewhat gave off the feeling of a small adult. His black hair was settled down in a way that not a single thread would dishevel. He had dignified facial traits even though he was young. From his voice tone to his gestures, the man named Gilbert Bougainvillea was already pre-made. He had come from a family of soldiers, so from his point of view, maybe the Military School was just an extension of his home.

Surrounded by trees under the shadow of the school building, those training barracks were a place that didn’t have any popularity, but other than Gilbert, the girl who had sent me the letter of challenge and quite a number of onlookers were there too.

“Don’t say ‘Claudia’ ever again. If I get called by this name, it’ll turn into a chronic toothache for me. And you are…?”

“I’m Gilbert Bougainvillea. I’m your junior, but in this situation, I’m in a position equal to yours as her representative in the duel that she requested. Therefore, I will be omitting honorifics and protect her dignity as just a man. I shall be your opponent in her stead.”

He was a kid with way of talking that quite reeked of seriousness, I thought. I was also a child with not too big a difference in age from him, but if a fourteen-year-old boy talked like that, you’d be surprised, right? More than anything, I was surprised at that fateful chance meeting. I had only seen him for a moment, but the Gilbert of that time and that scenery of white flowering trees had stayed seared into my heart, and he was a person remarkable enough to make you remember him unintentionally out of the blue.

I beckoned him with a, “C’mere, c’mere” and whispered into his ear, “Gilbert – can I call you Gilbert? Why’s an underclassman like you getting involved in the fight between me and that girl? Are you her new boyfriend and got mad after she told you about me?”

“I don’t mind being called Gilbert. You’re wrong about that. I’m not her lover. I just happened to come across her when she was crying by coincidence, and after I heard about her circumstances, I was put in charge of representing her in the duel. I’m also not willing to fight an upperclassman... one that I don’t hold a personal grudge against, to boot... but I have no choice. If she will be at ease with this, I mean. It seems you’re a pretty terrible man.”

I looked at the girl who was the source of that comedy-rather-than-tragedy over Gilbert’s shoulder. I didn’t have any memory of our relationship being anything other than drinking tea together a number of times.

“What’d she say I’ve done to her?”

“The kind of indecent things that I can’t say aloud at all.”

I was so embarrassed at being called “indecent” by that boy that I couldn’t bear it.

“I didn’t do it; I definitely didn’t do it. There’re girls who’ve slept by my side, but I haven’t slept with that one. We’ve dated. But I haven’t laid a hand on her. I guess I’ve so much as kissed her on the cheek. But relatives do that too, right?”

“Then, why would she lie to me?”

“‘Cause she wants to catch my attention, doesn’t she?”

“And probably yours too,” I added in my mind.

“If she tried to catch your attention with ill intent, it wouldn’t be effective, would it?”

At that statement, I felt the cleverness of the young Gilbert, but at the same time, I thought he was a child who still didn’t know what the crudeness of the world was like.

“Gilbert, you’ve never gone out with a woman before, have you? There’re two paths that guys and girls broken by love go through most of the times: to get attached or to hate each other. When one hates the other, they try to push the other down both social and materially.”

“Even though it’s someone they fell for?”

“It’s exactly because it’s someone they fell for.”

Gilbert furrowed his brows, looking troubled, and then turned his back to me, saying he was going to properly ask the girl once again about her story. He was a serious guy.

I grabbed his arm and prevented him from doing it. “Listen, Gilbert-boy, this is a fight that you got involved in because of some boring sense of justice. Act out your role until the end. If you don’t, you won’t get to protect her dignity, right?”

“It’s not ‘boy’. Are you... okay with this? If what you said is true, you’d be accusing yourself of a wrongdoing that you didn’t commit and fighting for no reason. And it’d mean that I’m being lied to and used by her. Seems so foolish...”

“With all due respect, Young Master, but there’s a limit to how much of a goody-two-shoes you can be to accept being someone’s duel representative in itself, and I think it’s also a foolish action, y’know?”

“It seems I’ll have to shoot your words back at you as well and I’m sorry for that, but there’s no way anyone could not listen to a lady’s story if they saw her crying along the way... even if the result of it weren’t something good.”

Gilbert had whispered coldly with a bitter expression, but I mostly got a positive impression from that reply. He was a young man with a will that you’d rarely see in recent years.

I took the hand of the arm that I had been holding and forcefully shook it. Perhaps because I swung it too broadly, his body rocked along with the swaying of the handshake.

“I agree with that. What, so you’re an appreciator too? A women praiser?”

“I was merely educated like that by my parents.”

He was just a high-pedigree dog. I felt let down.

“That so? Well, it’s fine. Anyway, from your words just now, the points that our interests have in common became clear. What’s important here isn’t the face-saving of guys who got rounded up for a fight, but the feelings of a girl broken by love. She wants to feel better by giving me a blow, right? Why don’t we do that?”

“You’re saying you’ll lose on purpose?”

“I committed the sin of making a girl cry. I can do as much as let my face lie on the ground and get some mud on it.”

The shade of disdain in his eyes of a rare emerald-green color disappeared and I could see a bit of admiration sprout in them. “By the looks of it, I’ve misunderstood you. My deepest apologies for speaking impolitely to you, my senior.”

“No problem at all. We’re the ones who got you involved in the conflict.”

“It’s my first time in a duel like this and I don’t know how it goes, so it’d be helpful if you could tell me.”

“We can hit each other however we see fit and I’ll fall down after they watch us roll over, so twist my arm or something and end it there. I’ll act in a way that the onlookers will know it’s your win.”

“Speaking of which, do you know who those spectators are?”

“Gambling customers I called over. I’ll get twenty percent of the earnings from the leader of the gamblers, so it’s half of that for you and me.”

“I take back everything I said before. I’ll knock you down.” I didn’t understand very well why, but Gilbert started referring rudely to me and clearly ruined the mood.

Then, the gong of the fight resounded with a “clang, clang, clang”. Having grown tired of waiting for us since we wouldn’t stop talking, the boss of the gamblers played a battle-start tune with a pot and ladle. My relationship with Gilbert began originally from that fistfight.

“You’d better regret starting this stupid wager,” Gilbert cursed upon me, letting go of the stand-up collar of his school uniform’s jacket onto the ground.

We both measured a chance for the first blow. In contrast to me, who firmly kept my arms glued to my sides and balled my fists, Gilbert shook his arms as if adapting them.

——What? I’ve never seen this stance before.

Since my older brother and Pops used to throw fists with me and I to throw back by way of playing around, and since there was also a time when I would do nothing but get into fights in the city, that type of fistfight was part of my lifework. I was totally thinking that my opponent would come at me with Leidenschaftlich army-style martial arts. After all, he was the son of a family of soldiers. If you were to talk about martial arts learned by men who lived in Leiden, that was it. But Gilbert’s stance was different.

My principle in fights was to first observe the other’s attitude with non-aggressive defense. Following that principle, I waited for my opponent’s move. Yet it seemed that the same applied to Gilbert, so we just sluggishly watched each other’s battle preparation. When the audience jeered at us to “hurry and start beating each other”, I clicked my tongue.

The performance was important for the gambling. Left without a choice, I struck him with a big kick after drawing my leg to behind my back as a test. He dodged once. I hit his tight the second time, but he acted as if nothing had happened. The third time, he grabbed my foot and knocked me down face-up just like that. He dealt me a series of consecutive straight punches to the stomach after dropping onto me. It wasn’t a heavy attack, given that he was a boy who still weighted light, but it could make even my eight-pack abs scream.

It’d be boring if I lost in that way, right?

Taking advantage of my flexibility, which had a favorable reputation with the girls, I squeezed his neck with my legs and twisted him upturned to the side. He was light, you see. Being light also means being astute. He escaped from my leg technique smooth and quickly. We both stood back up to readying ourselves once again.

“Hodgins, don’t play around! We’re betting on you!”

“You two, don’t get injured because of me!”

“That’s the spot! Do it, do it, do it!”

The spectators were loud, but even as I heard them, it all only came in from one ear and left from the other. That was because my senses of sight, smell and many others were directed at Gilbert Bougainvillea.

Maybe having finished studying my way of fighting, Gilbert started actively hitting me. Of course, I also counter-attacked and hit him back. Nothing to be proud of, but my fists are heavy and they hurt. An attack where I socked with all of the weight in my body, which was a congregation of muscles that I had polished, would usually cause my opponents to collapse after I hit them three times, but I didn’t manage to settle it on him straight away.

Gilbert had converted his battle style into one of simultaneous offense and defense. I hit him. While Gilbert covered with one hand, he at the same time shoved his other fist into my stomach. It wasn’t just that his movements were agile. His fighting method was something you couldn’t manage unless you had trained a lot. To top it off, even though that guy was getting hit, he had a face like he wasn’t feeling a thing.

“Gilbert, where’d you learn that stuff?”

Gilbert sleekly avoided both my kick and my question, “Well, where was it again?”

——You really fourteen?

Just as those words had come up to my throat, Gilbert said, “Let’s end this already.”

Gilbert’s fists suddenly became heavy. Annoyingly enough, it seemed he had been holding back until then. He came aiming accurately for my body’s vitals with a calm expression – so dirty of him. I became defensive-only and eventually fell on my ass. Gilbert looked down at me from above with a face that said, “Now, lose just like you wanted”.

“Gilbert, you’d better review your attitude towards your elders.”

By then, I’d forgotten that I had to lose on purpose. I surrendered my body to the blood going up my head, raised it from my position of having collapsed onto the ground, placed my hands on the soil, and rammed his beautiful face hard with a lateral kick using as much strength as possible. That was my favorite stunt. A tactic I didn’t use for just anything.

The one who had rolled onto the ground now was Gilbert. I merrily mounted him and punched his body. Enveloped in a swirl of excitement, the onlookers rose in whispers. It was also a pleasure for me to hold down the guy that had been scorning at me until just a few seconds before.

No, wait a minute. Stop judging me with those big eyes of yours! This is the past. A story about the past! Yep, yep, listen closely to the continuation, ‘kay?

While I became absorbed with self-satisfaction and beat the crap out of Gilbert, with no regard for appearances, Gilbert grabbed a handful of dirt from nearby and smacked it into my eyes. It also got in my mouth. Tasted of earth. I spat it together with saliva.

“Bastard, that was unfair!”

“Tell that to yourself.”

Unexpected, quite unexpected. Apparently, he’d do anything to win. I thought he had seemed like a more scrupulous guy.

He pushed me aside and made an escape, and after taking a large distance, he swiftly did an approach run and came back my way. What I could see with my field of vision clouded by the dirt were the shoe soles of his military boots.

First of all, his right foot sent a blow to my chest, and as my body rotated midair, his left leg kicked for the second and third times, then his right leg attacked me again after I had rotated once. Having received three kicks in a row in the span of an instant, I collapsed onto my back.

——What kinda attack is this?!

Above thinking of it as terrifying, irritating or anything like that, I honestly thought it was “cool”. Nowadays, I know there are people of superhuman fighting races such as you and Benedict, so I wouldn’t be too shocked if I were shown a feat like that. But back then, it was impactful for me. Yeah, it was impactful.

Gilbert Bougainvillea was to me a new type of human being who had suddenly revealed himself. His rotational kicks hadn’t overwhelmed just my body. He took my heart too.

What we did after that? Beat each other muddily without paying any mind to the observers. Tired of waiting for the outcome of the match, everyone gradually left.

It seemed the girl who was the center of the whirlpool at that time had attempted playing tragic heroine at the beginning, but one of the onlookers came to talk to her midway, and she hit it off with him and vanished. The only ones watching in the end were a friend of mine who the head of the gamblers had trusted with the task and people with too much free time.

“Hey, when are they gonna settle it?”

We didn’t settle it.

At last, it was decided that we were at a tie and both of us were sent to the infirmary. Our fight was found out too, so the two of us had to take penal regulations on cordial terms with each other from our group of instructors. As to prioritize the medical treatment of our injuries, the disciplinary measures were the light punishment of ordering us clean up the bathrooms of every facility.

I had done something bad to him. It would’ve been fine if I had just lost right away, yet I got serious... Well, he’d gotten serious too, so it wasn’t just my fault in that point. No, I’m sorry. It was my fault.

In a way, I apologized, but Gilbert said with a look of disdain that he never again wanted to be involved with me when we were cleaning the bathrooms. There was no helping that, since his brilliant school history, which had been about to start from there, ended up being tainted by the fight that he had with a senior as soon as he enrolled. We were of different ages and had different personalities too. The truth was that we were supposed to be alienated from each other.

You’re here now because this didn’t happen.

Ever since the fight had ended, I stalked Gilbert. Calling it “stalking” is heavy-handed, but thinking back about how I was at the time, no matter how you look at it, there’s no way of wording it other than that.

“Gilbert, I’ll treat you. See, as an apology for back then.”

“Not necessary.”

“You’re reserved with others, huh. We both took the same punishment, right? No need for formal language. You using that at this stage of the game makes me feel itchy. I’ll introduce you to a girl, then. What’s your type? And the breast size?”

“I’m begging you, don’t follow me.”

I’d invite him for meals despite his unwillingness, have him learn the taste of adulthood through alcohol that I had managed to get my hands on in secret, and occasionally bicker with him. I was also the one who taught him how to smoke. He didn’t know most of the general forms of amusement, so even when I taught him card games, the reactions he’d show were entertaining. Soon enough, the guys from my year that I hung out with started doting on him too.

Gilbert was the type that older people got attached to. But what I’m talking about is a different way of showing affection. I mean, he wasn’t affectionate. I guess the right way to put it is that he piqued my interest.

From the get-go, I had been so, so interested in him that I couldn’t help myself.

About that, the same could be said of you. I’m not hitting on you, though. Huhu, not hitting on you.

It was different from that... In retrospect, ours might’ve been a relationship where I did nothing but chase after him. He was kind of... a hard-to-figure person. Though he had a strong sense of justice, he was rather cold-blooded, and if he had a reason that compelled him to gain victory in a given situation even if through an unfair move, he’d do it just fine. He had a man-of-character side to him, but he was also self-interested and prideful. He had a charm that drew people to him, but he himself didn’t have much interest in others. He was a man who only ever thought about how he’d tread the pure-white path towards his own future that had been laid out to him.

I once asked what had been best out of the things that I taught him. “Smoking. It’s not bad as a means of exchanging information,” was what he said.

I found out why he had turned out like that later on. It feels awkward to tell you about this, but it’s an episode that can’t be left out if we’re talking about his past.

Gilbert Bougainvillea had a fiancée.

He told me that when I was about to graduate. At the time, we were in a state where the two of us hanging out with each other was something that looked extremely normal to the people around us.

What happened? Well, nothing. Just a repetition of the same stuff. I’d follow Gilbert around, tease him, give in most of the time, occasionally apologize to Gilbert... We became normal friends.

The instructions had told me severely, “Don’t pay mind to the Bougainvillea heir” and things like that, but I didn’t listen to them. Gilbert had also seemed to warn me with a “don’t get involved with me”, but I didn’t listen to him either. In that point, I wasn’t a good kid. I probably knew him better than his buddies of the same age as him did. That’s exactly why learning such new information when I was already going to graduate had been so shocking to me.

He came to talk to me during a recess day in the Military School. Said he had a favor to ask.

“I’m going to eat out with my fiancée right now... Can’t you come too? We’re in a slightly complicated situation, so I want to request the help of a third party.”

“I’ll go. Of course I’ll go. Hah? Speaking of which, you up and got a fiancée behind my back? Since when? ‘Since six years ago’? You—How old were you back then? ‘Ten’? Why didn’t you tell me?! Could it be you’ve been going on dates with her or something during the holidays without me knowing? You have? Gilbert, you bastard!” I followed him while saying stuff like that.

We properly took written permission to leave campus, making meticulous arrangements. Even though he had intended to take me along from the beginning, the part of earning consent was just like him.

The meeting spot was a small café located halfway the road from the Military School to Leiden. I’d also gone there sometimes to have tea. The shop had a nice feeling to it.

Well, we met her there. Skip. All right, next topic.

Eh? What kind of person was she, you ask? Hm~, I don’t wanna talk about that. If I were forced to say it, she gave off the feeling of a Young Mistress from a fine household. Didn’t seem like she went out... I really don’t want to talk about her. Why...? Because I feel Gilbert would definitely get mad at me.

As for why he had called me... just like he had said, they were in a slightly complicated situation.

At the beginning, the fiancée wasn’t Gilbert’s. There’s that older brother of his, and the brother was the one supposed to take over the family inheritances, but – who knows what he was thinking – he had enrolled into the navy’s Military School as practically a runaway. That even though the men of their family are set to join the army.

Since you’re an ex-soldier, you know about it, right? Though both are national defense organs, there’s this unseen ditch between the army and the navy. Like in the ratio of defense expenditures and stuff. It’s an adults’ problem.

Yeah. Looks like the Big Bro didn’t get along well with his family. I heard he had a spontaneous personality. With that, it was doubtlessly painful for him to have grown up in an authoritarian household. Thinking about it now, the man that had been with Gilbert when I first saw him had been that very brother. And the Big Bro had run away from home, so everything was pushed onto the ten-year-old Gilbert, because both his parents had decided he was going to be the family head and made Gilbert take over the fiancée too.

This is rude to both of them, but they gave off a feeling of keeping a distance from each other. Unlike his brother, Gilbert was the kind of guy who wouldn’t suffer if pressured to live as the role model of the Bougainvilleas... so everyone around him naturally chose to place their expectations on him instead of rectifying his brother. It seemed that Gilbert was also cherishing the fiancée, in his own Gilbert way. But the fiancée had a wish, and Gilbert decided to fulfill it.

Eloping. The thing that men and women would do to oppose the flow of the world and escape from their status in the social ladder to satisfy their love.

Not with Gilbert. You see, the fiancée... had tried to fall for Gilbert, but hadn’t managed to. And then she fell for another guy. A butler from her house, she had said. It was romance, after all.

Making him listen with ridiculous earnestness while his own fiancée confessed this to him and then going as far as requesting him to help her elope had been insensitive of her. But Gilbert had acknowledged it with a two-worded response and summoned me for an assistance plan.

When listening to the story, I wondered if he actually had the function called emotions running inside his body.

I wanted to scold his fiancée. Like, “You go do as you please on your own”, “Don’t get Gilbert involved”. But Gilbert started studying escape routes into other countries with shit-eating seriousness.

“The access from the border is monitored strictly. Hodgins, your home was a store that also deals with imported goods, right? Of course, it probably also has permission from the government to ship them. Couldn’t you have them mixed in and get them out of the country? If it’s possible, we could change the migration route to water transportation afterward... and avoid the conflict zones, no matter how much of a detour it is,” he said, dispassionate and business-like. “How much can you spend? It’s better for you to convert into money every possession that you can manage freely while there’s time. This or you can make wheat into products of your preference... That won’t be enough. It’s uncertain whether you’ll be able to set up a basis for your livelihood right away. I understand. I’ll provide aid too. No, this much is just... There’s the whole matter with my brother, after all.”

The more level-headed Gilbert remained, the more rage bubbled up and erupted inside me.

The conversation that had my help as prerequisite came to an end. On the way back, I asked Gilbert if he didn’t like her. If he didn’t feel even just a little bit of sadness or irritation at those circumstances – they had been engaged for several years, after all, no matter whether it was something that their parents had decided.

Gilbert, who had been walking silently, looked my way. The flowering trees that painted the roads white in early spring had lost their petals and were dyed green. Yet even though we were in a world with a different scenery, as expected, Gilbert was reflected in my eyes as a remarkably exceptional existence.

With the corners of his lips curling up just a little, Gilbert said, “The fact that there’s no meaning in chasing someone who’s departing has been drilled into my body with my brother’s case.” Again, he was aloof. His mouth moved as if being made to speak borrowed words. “I can’t say I don’t have empathy for her, but... if I were asked whether I have attachment, I don’t. That person wasn’t mine from the very start.”

“‘Yours’, you say... You...”

“Bad way of wording it, huh. It’s not like I’m referring to her as a property because she’s a woman or anything.”

“No, that’s not it... You...”

Aah, so this is it, I thought.

——Since it’s you, you’re always...

I felt for the first time right then that I’d come in contact with the essence of the person named Gilbert Bougainvillea.

——That’s why, even if you’re surrounded by a big number of people, you’re always...

That guy didn’t have a sense of attachment.

——No matter how much positivity you get or how praised you are...

It’s possible that his brother who had left was the one he had some sort of attachment towards. But even if it weren’t just that, he was surely...

——You look alone.

...a person who had gotten used to giving up on things. That’s why he treated all sorts of matters and people in a measured way. Even if his true intentions weren’t so.

“To begin with, we’ve caused trouble for their daughter thanks to my brother. Doing this much is nothing.”

——But where do your feelings go?

“Our parents will certainly have something to say about it, but mine will just match me with someone new to become my wife.”

——Aren’t you disturbed by having the person that will accompany you for the rest of your life decided for you like a board game piece?

“The eldest son of her household is the one who will take over the inheritances, so there’ll be no problem for them other than their reputation. If they can continue being related to us through my generation, it’ll be solved with that.”

No matter how much Gilbert talked in order to convince me, I never said, “That’s right”.

The one by my side was a young man still in his teens. He was a child who, as a result of being demanded reasonability, didn’t look for meaning in his own existence other than just as something “convenient” for people. He saw himself and others as nothing but assets.

“I was... happy that you had a fiancée, still. I did get pissed at you for hiding it from me, though.” For some reason, I was the one who’d gotten sad and my voice broke into falsetto because of suppressed tears. Gilbert asked what was wrong, but I deceived him by pretending to cough.

You know, I had... seen Gilbert’s future. No matter how much glory he achieved, or how long he walked through a brilliant path without deviating from it, there’d be hardly anything left in the palm of his hands. Throwing things and people away when he had no business with them and not caring if he himself were thrown away, he would merely continue treading the narrow, risky, pure-white path that had been laid out to him in a world of complete darkness. But he’d likely cross it in an extremely beautiful way, more skillfully than anyone.

What his hands were holding onto was already nothing but guns.

I’m a selfish person. Which is why I was simply sad at the truth that, even though I thought of Gilbert as my number one friend, it was probably not the same for him.

Yeah, the eloping was a success.

I have no idea where those two are or what they’re doing now, but they trampled over my friend’s dignity, so I hope they’re happy. The aftermath was full of trouble, but the problem with the Bougainvillea heir’s fiancée running away soon wiped out.

Gilbert’s Old Man had died all of a sudden.

Just as we pushed the rude lovebirds into my family’s business truck and the two of us came back with nonchalant faces like, “My, my, it’s over”, an instructor called Gilbert to stop him, his facial expression altered.

“Where have you been? What were you doing? We were looking for you. He passed away. You didn’t make it to his last moments.”

The instructor must’ve been panicking too. He bombarded the stunned Gilbert with a hail of words mayhem. Gilbert did get agitated, but not confused. He’s the kind of guy who can cut off his emotions and do what he’s supposed to do. He said he understood and immediately went back to his home.

I wasn’t allowed to accompany him, leaving the campus only with permission to go to the funeral. My relatives were mostly healthy people, so my first time attending someone’s burial was the one of Gilbert’s Old Man. As I nervously went to it, there he was before me, performing the role of chief mourner with a grounded appearance... Gilbert, who had become the head of the Bougainvilleas in both name and substance, was discreetly clearing his throat.

“Why, if I knew this would happen, they wouldn’t have had to elope... Now that their main obstacle is gone, I could have pulled out of it... I’ve done that person wrong,” he said.

He called his father an “obstacle”.

That was surely because of the way Gilbert had been raised, as a “tool” of the Bougainvillea family who would give continuation to the household. He had been treated in a way so that he’d live as a strategic arrangement for the prosperity of the clan. It had swerved him. People give back what others do to them.

The closer you are to him, the better you understand. He’s a kind-hearted but lonely guy. Even though he’s got a cute face when he laughs, he hardly does so. He knows it’s not something suitable of his role.

I thought that when I... when I... died... either this, or if I ever disappeared from before him... the only thing I didn’t want was for him to treat me like an object. I couldn’t take it.

Whenever the dices of fate rolled in his emerald-green eyes, he didn’t see anything other than a windingly stretched future. He’d just earnestly stare at a path that wasn’t the one of a human being.

Was there ever gonna come a day that a man like him would chase after someone? Somebody – anyone would do. Someone, someone. A person that he wouldn’t be able not to be affectionate with.

Would he ever get to have that?

Hodgins cut the words short at that point, reaching out his hand. His fingertips touched the hair of Violet, who was tucked in her bed. He slowly ripped off a thread that had become sticky due to sweat.

“Then, President Hodgins, after you graduated... when... did you reunite with that person?”

Upon being requested a continuation of the story with long wheezy breaths typical of those whose bronchi were suffering, Hodgins gave a strained smile. He stood up from the chair he had been sitting on, placing the blanked that stopped at Violet’s chest securely up to her neck. “Let’s continue this after you’re cured from your cold,” he whispered with utmost tenderness and a soft gaze. The ends of his statement overflowed with an affection similar to paternity.

They were inside a room large enough for two people to live in. It had light blue flowery wallpaper and a chandelier decorated with violas. On a round table sitting at the center of the room, there were boxes, bags and fruits baskets wrapped in ways that made clear they were get-well gifts. The interior of the bedroom was not too cold, yet wood burned in the fireplace, popping into sparks with a snap. The windows, which had its curtains closed, shook clatteringly due to the wind. The needles of the room’s clock pointed an hour just before evening.

“This surprises even me. I wonder if it is because I have distanced myself from the battlefields... To think I would grow this weak. My apologies for not managing to keep control of my health.”

“What’re you saying? The reason why you had a fever was that the difference in temperature got to you, right? The place you were commissioned to was a northernmost land, after all... Sorry for making you push yourself. Don’t mind it and go to sleep, ‘kay?” while speaking, he gently caressed the slightly dark circles under Violet’s blue eyes with his index finger. It was not as if they would disappear with that at all, but it was a display of his wish for them to do so. “We’re keeping in touch with the clients that booked you, and most of them want to rely on you even if you’re late, so there weren’t any cancellations to the requests. Don’t worry about anything and take your time, Little Violet. You look pretty tired.”

“I shall cure myself soon. By tomorrow even.”

“No can do, no can do. Take at least three days to rest from work counting with today. ‘Cause I’ll come over after these three days to decide whether or not you’ll be in condition to go back. Sorry for forbidding visits from the others.”

“No, it would be terrible if they caught this. President Hodgins, you too... My apologies for having you talk about so many things in addition to making you come here... I have caused you to stay too long.”

“I’m fine. If catching it would cure you, Little Violet, then I’d rather catch it. After all... I was something like your foster parent, though for a short while. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

At that response, Hodgins smiled with his whole face. “The book that Little Lux asked me to give you is in the brown package. I ended up seeing the contents, and turns out it’s a popular romance novel. If your eyes get tired, make sure to stop reading immediately.”

“Yes.”

“The rest is from the members of the company. Benedict told me to say ‘take care’. Cattleya’s scheduled to be back tomorrow, but even if she comes here on her own accord, you shouldn’t keep her company.”

“Yes.”

“Tell the people here at home if there’s anything you want me to do. I’ll leave work and rush over.”

“No, Lux would cry, so please do your job.”

Hodgins bid his farewells and attempted giving her a kiss on the cheek, but his lips were blocked by the palm of a hand burning with heat. As he asked with a sad voice if she did not want it, Violet replied that he could catch her cold, so it was dangerous.

Intentionally making a noise, he kissed the palm covering his lips. “G’night, Little Violet.”

“Good night, President Hodgins.”

Silently leaving the room, Hodgins walked through the broad corridor with a quick pace. On the way, he informed a passing servant of his intention to take his leave. His aspect of haste also showed after that in the way he drove his car.

Perhaps because the residence he had visited was located away from the capital Leiden, the Sun was about to set when he arrived to the city. The madder red sky was gradually starting to envelop itself in dark colors.

By the looks of it, today was a day of strong winds. Hodgins’s classic car swayed unsteadily during the fear-inspiring journey.

The place Hodgins headed to was a lodging facilities district in a place a little out of the townscape of Leidenschaftlich’s capital, Leiden. Inside it, there were not only the types of inn that one could stop by unexpectedly without reservations but also inns that one could not pass through the gates into the site unless an inviter let them. The kind of inn that he rang the bell of was exactly the latter.

The first floor was the entrance for the residents, as well as the level of employees who carried out the administration of everything. There were five floors above it. Despite the single-storied buildings being tall and three-floor ones being mainstream, the building could be considered quite a high-rise amongst them. Only contractors could live in each floor. It was a high-class one-floor-rent inn, where the bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, etc. had all been designed in a luxurious fashion. Even just a one-night stay required quite a sum. Incidentally, the residents were chosen ones.

As he rang the bell of the top floor’s apartment, there were footsteps from the inside.

“Who might it be?”

Hodgins grinned at the well-mannered words. “It’s me. The little fox who saved you on that day.”

“I don’t have a fox for acquaintance.” The voice of the residence’s owner suddenly grew lower as he recognized the other person.

“Then, the one who threw fists with you in our first meeting on that day, Hodgins.”

“Wait there. I’ll open now.”

The chosen resident who opened the oak door with a gun at hand was a man past his twenties at the prime of his working life, as well as the head of a family that no one knew not of within Leidenschaftlich’s army. Despite it being the middle of the night, he was dressed in his military uniform. Only his collar was loose, unbuttoned at the neck. Perhaps due to him having no time to rest, his hair, usually combed down flatly over his forehead, lay disheveled and he had grown a stubble. He had also removed his eyepatch, displaying his lacerated eye.

“How’s Violet?”

Hodgins shrugged at the words said to him the instant their gazes met. “‘Hodgins, you’ve worked hard late into the night. Good evening.’ – Can’t you ask after you tell me that?”

“Hodgins, you’ve worked hard late into the night. Good evening... I’m exhausted.”

Unable to bear the look that said, “Just tell me the situation already”, he answered, “It’s just a cold. I told you not to worry, didn’t I? If you’re gonna visit her tomorrow, isn’t it useless getting a report from me?”

“I was concerned...”

Maybe because he had been reminiscing to the past, he felt that the current Gilbert had become quite amicable. To think that he, who used to be so prickly during his boyhood, now loved somebody. Hodgins bit down a laughter that suddenly came out of him.

“Hey, what was that? Why did you laugh?”

“I didn’t. By the way, it seems so expensive here... Did you finish paying for the place you were living in a while ago?”

“I’m renting it for a cheap price thanks to my household’s connections. I’m in the middle of looking for an apartment... so this is a temporary residence. I was... moving houses periodically so that Violet wouldn’t find me before, but the need for that is gone...”

After the train hijacking incident, Gilbert apologized to Hodgins and the Evergarden family, stopped hiding himself and continued interacting with Violet. The two were working things out with each other.

As one was a colonel of the army and one was a demanded Auto-Memories Doll, they had little time to meet. The moments and places where they could be alone with each other were valuable.

“Aah, no wonder you wouldn’t want to go back to the main residence where your honorable mother and sisters are.”

Gilbert nodded. “I don’t want to call her over there... Hodgins, you telling me about her situation directly has helped me out. Come in.”

He probably was truly tired. The words he uttered had frequent pauses.

Hodgins was let into the largest room. Perhaps because the lights inside said room were not properly lit, it was dark. Only a lamp sitting on a chest in a corner of the room illuminated the area around it.

“Don’t open the window. The papers will fly.”

The desk in front of the chair that Hodgins silently sat on had an awl, binding rope and piled-up documents. There were also other things, such as sealing wax, a fountain pen and stationery left half-written. A heap of letters tied with rope lay next to the stationary.

Showing a face of surprise, Hodgins quietly reached a hand toward the stationary. Gilbert had left him and gone to the kitchen. While reading the stationary, Hodgins asked with a placid expression, “Were you sleeping?”

The sound of a clock’s corkscrew ensued.

“Yeah, until just a bit ago. Hodgins, I’m going to make dinner, but will you eat it?”

“Huun, you were pretty worn-out, huh. It’s gonna be a feast. Gilbert, you gonna be having a drink while you cook?”

A sweet scent had suddenly drifted towards him.

“I’m not you... I’ll put it in the food.”

“So you do stuff like cooking.”

“I do it when my friend comes over at least.”

The eyes that had been reading stopped completely and Hodgins turned his head to the direction of the kitchen. Gilbert was not visible from that room.

“Liar. You’re simply hungry ‘cause you just woke up, aren’t you?” Hodgins spoke with a smile in his voice, yet he was by no means smiling.

“Then I’ll eat all this by myself.”

“Y’know, you’ve been calling me ‘friend’ out of the blue lately. What kinda service is that?”

“‘Lately’...? Is that so? But what other definition should I use? We’ve had this relationship for over a decade. Why is calling you my friend a service?”

The words smoothly replied to him pierced his chest.

“No, I mean, you... treat nice people like tools. You don’t show respect for me even though I’m older than you.”

“About the matters regarding Violet, I’m sorry. About not showing respect for you, why would I have to show respect due to age difference at this point?”

Silence.

“Hodgins?”

Despite being called, Hodgins wordlessly returned his gaze to the letter for a moment. It was his first time reading one of those, but Hodgins knew about them. After all, whenever Hodgins visited his room, there would be a sealed letter with no addressee somewhere. Hodgins knew one more person who used to accumulate letters without sending them.

“You’re an idiot.”

Just as Gilbert said, they had had that relationship for over a decade. They had also had a period of breaking contact. Within the letter that he was finally seeing again after those years, the feelings towards a certain girl that Gilbert had been unable to back from writing down were registered. He probably intended to throw away the old ones and hand over new responses. Written in them were his repeated apologies for what he had done until that point, as well as his words of gratitude thanking her for sending him countless letters.

Hodgins twisted his neck, observing Gilbert’s back as he stood in the kitchen. The same was valid for him, but Hodgins thought that both of them had aged quite some.

——To think that those two who had parted ways would meet again.

It was a common love story, which seemed like it could happen anywhere. But that was precisely why...

——...I think I want them to be happy enough to make up for their detours.

He and she. Both of them were irreplaceable people for Hodgins.

“Gilbert.”

“What?”

“Back to the topic... Y’know, I believe that friendships can also be unrequited.”

“Yeah.” Gilbert did not negate the exorbitant statement.

Hodgins felt he was giving an empty answer without actually listening to the talk. His feeling of discontentment accidentally seeped into his manner of speaking. “You say ‘yeah’, but do you really get it? I think you don’t... I’ve felt that way with you for many years. Gilbert, you can definitely make do without friends. But I’m not like that. Yet I really didn’t want us to be like... like this, with me being the only one... who wishes for you to stay that way, doing fine. Or who wants to see you every now and then to talk about trivial stuff. Like, ‘Is it just me who likes you?’... You’re a cold one, after all. That’s why I’ve been surprised with you lately. You... You probably don’t get these feelings of mine, though.”

Both knew of each other’s temperament and comprehended that their friendship existed. They also certainly trusted one another. The proof of it was that Gilbert entrusted Hodgins with the person he was currently attempting to protect by putting his life at stake. However, Hodgins nevertheless thought that, to Gilbert, he was not in the position that he had in mind. He had not once voiced it, for such attachments seemed foolish in male friendships.

After having said that, Hodgins soon regretted it. He regretted it, and yet...

“No, I understand. I don’t have any friends except for you.”

Perhaps because he had been holding the paper in his hands with force, it wrinkled a little. Hodgins desperately placed it on the desk and carefully stretched it. Still, he heard Gilbert’s footsteps approaching while he was at it and returned the letter to its previous spot.

The two remained silent once they faced each other.

Maybe finally having noticed the half-written letter, he mixed it together with his documents and quickly cleared it away from Hodgins’s eyes. Hodgins followed the letter’s trajectory from the corners of his eyes.

Upon sorting them out thoroughly, Gilbert exhaled a long breath that sounded like a sigh. “You said I probably didn’t get it, but even I understand,” little by little, his voice trailed off into silence. “You were always surrounded by a large number of companions. But you’re my only friend.”

——That’s a lie.

Even without companions that he had a relationship of associating himself with in the way he did with Hodgins, Gilbert was already a person who attracted those around him. He was not the type to act like a lone wolf. He would attend the class reunions and socialization banquets during their days in the Military School. He could flawlessly hold a conversation with anyone.

But before Hodgins was able to deny it with words, Gilbert spoke, “I have many acquaintances but you’re my only true friend. After you graduated... I thought it would’ve been great if I’d been born two years earlier for my student days.” His way of speaking seemed sulky.

The illusion of a fourteen-year-old boy overlapped with the figure of a battered man in his thirties. Hodgins felt that he himself had returned to when he was sixteen as well. Back then, he was always chasing after Gilbert and fooling around with him.

——We were always together.

The pain that had pierced his chest gradually tinged with warmth. A smile crept in his egoistic heart, unable to help itself.

——Gilbert, you...

The man named Gilbert Bougainvillea was not the kind to say such things at all. Over a long time, he had become able to show a side of himself other than being an “asset” that served for smoothly administrating himself and his surroundings.

——That side of you is unfair.

And strangely enough, the girl who Gilbert loved had also been a “tool” for his sake. Yet that “tool” was becoming able to gently undo the ropes firmly tied around her and show a humane face. Just who had been the one responsible for the biggest part of those achievements?

Claudia Hodgins, indifferent to his own deeds, merely rejoiced and smiled broadly at his friend’s bashful face. “Hu—Ahah, ahahahaha!”

“Hey, don’t laugh. You made me say something embarrassing. As if I’ll ever say that again in my life.”

“Ahahah, no... you’ve got it wrong. It’s not like I’m making fun of... Ah, Gilbert. Is the stuff you left in the oven okay? It’s kinda making a weird noise.”

“It’s not okay.”

Hodgins stood up and followed Gilbert as he clatteringly returned to the kitchen. A familiar quarrel flowed comfortably throughout the apartment, turning into a nightly tune.

And the same applied to time, no matter how much of it flowed. For two people who had a relation called friendship, it would go back to their bosom days regardless of there being a period where they had not seen each other.

“Move over, I’m gonna sprinkle the seasoning.”

“Fool, you’re mistaken, that’s not salt.”

“You’ve got no spices at all. D’you live off just salt and sugar?”

“I’ve had a long-standing habit of eating out. Hodgins, let’s stop it already. This isn’t food.”

“Don’t spout nonsense. There’s nothing that can’t be recovered.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s so. Don’t give up.”

No matter how many hundreds, thousands of years they lived, the two would go back to the versions of themselves from that time.

To the fourteen-year-old Gilbert and the sixteen-year-old Hodgins.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #violet evergarden gaiden #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hogdins #kyoani #kyoto animation #novel #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #my translation

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1177

survey by joybucket

Have you _____ during this pandemic?

Worn a mask? I mean, of course. I put one on even when I’m only picking up deliveries from my doorstep.

got tested for coronavirus? Never. I also hope I’ll never have to go through this, I don’t want a stick up my nose and throat D:

known someone who died from the virus? Personally? Too many people at this point.

gotten the COVID vaccine? Not yet, but I have many relatives who’ve already gotten theirs, my mom and grandmother included, so at least. I know my employer has a plan in place over the next few weeks or months, so I’m just currently waiting for updates on their end.

started a new hobby? Yeah, I started on embroidery late last year. I haven’t been able to keep it up, but I’m still very much interested and want to go back to it soon. I also plan on getting one or two new Klaypel kits so I can finally replace and throw out the ones Gabie gave to me as gifts.

hated being stuck at home? Yeah, especially during the start when there seemed to be no end in sight. When they heightened quarantine protocols again earlier this month, that also made me feel aggravated about being stuck at home indefinitely since I had already started going out on weekends for self-dates.

worn a mask someone made for you? No one has made a mask for me, but one of my uncles got me a supply of a certain kind of face mask that I didn’t initially use.

sewn your own mask? No.

purchased masks at the store? Not me personally, but my dad regularly buys a supply for the family to use.

purchased a KN95 or N95 mask? Again, not me. But we regularly have a stock at home, along with the blue surgical face masks.

complimented someone on their mask? I don’t think so. I barely pay attention especially towards mask designs.

protested mask-wearing? ????? My name’s not Karen.

complained on Facebook? Nothing mask-related, but I have definitely complained about the government’s negligence and lack of proactivity about this entire situation.

read a book? I started on Midnight Sun which my parents got for me, but I never finished it. I got busy immediately the week after since I got accepted into my internship, and it was also because I was dealing with my breakup and could not focus enough to read for more than 5 minutes.

had an event canceled you had been looking forward to? My college graduation, which I’ll forever stay bitter about.

stocked up on toilet paper? I don’t think so. My parents didn’t believe in panic-buying.

been to the store when it was crowded? I do remember the mall being packed when I went last-minute Christmas shopping. Not to a crazy extent, but there was still quite a number of people.

been to the store when the toilet paper aisle was empty? N/A. We don’t have toilet paper aisles, but all stores have hand sanitizers and temperature checks by their entrance.

lost your job? I didn’t have a job before the pandemic because I had still been a student when everything started.

worked from home? Yup, and still on an WFH arrangement until now.

still had to go to work? I’ve had to go two times, but that was because it was absolutely necessary to go to the office to get the work done. My employer is pretty strict about this anyway and if something could be done at home, they’d decline the request.

went to a protest at your state's capital building? Well we don’t have states so this isn’t really relevant to me. Should a credible org plan a protest against the government though, I’d be interested in going.

watched the news for updates on the virus? We keep the TV on during dinner, at which time the news is always on. Whether I want to or not, I always get updates on the Covid situation in the country.

wondered if you had covid? Yeah, when I got extremely sick in May last year.

not left the house for a week? Way more than a week.

watched YouTube videos? YouTube is pretty much a part of my daily routine, with or without the virus.

spent a whole day watching movies? I’ve only watched one movie since the beginning of the pandemic.

cleaned your house from top to bottom? Not me, but my mom.

ordered something online? Too much crap.

ordered a pizza? I’ve gotten pizza a few times for my family, yeah. I remember ordering from Pizza Hut, Motorino, and most recently, Yellow Cab.

prayed to God?

completely forgotten a holiday that you normally celebrate? Nah, I usually remember when holidays are because that means I get a day off hahaha.

voted in an election? There haven’t been any elections that have taken place since the start of the pandemic.

gotten to know your neighbors? Somewhat. I only say hi to them and greet them a good morning/afternoon when I walk the dogs, but I don’t initiate conversations.

sanitized everything in your home? We always do this, especially when a package arrives for someone in the family.

wrote someone a letter? Started one but never finished because I soon realized it wouldn’t be worth it.

wished this pandemic were over? Don’t we all?

been surprised this pandemic has lasted so long? Yeah, I definitely thought things would be normal by now.

worried about catching the virus? I think the worry exists for everyone. I just wouldn’t say I’ve ever gotten super anxious and panicky about it. I feel pretty resigned at this point and just want everything to be over, so I can finally have the life I was meant to have back.

stayed home because you didn't want to catch the virus? That, and because I was required to stay home to begin with.

been to church? We watch a service on YouTube every Sunday morning.

watched an online church service? ^ Yeah, that’s what I meant haha oops.

been stopped by a police officer? No, but there was one time I was cleaning up Cooper’s tray and there happened to be a village guard cycling by our street, and he just kindly reminded me to put on a mask or shield since I had forgotten to do it.

seen a lot of police cars patrolling the area? No. I would definitely be pissed off if this happened - especially in a residential subdivision - and share a pic on social media to alert everyone about the unnecessary mess that is the police.

had someone cough on you out in public? No. But again, this would also piss me off and I wouldn’t hesitate to confront the asshole who would do something like that.

has someone stand less than six feet away from you while waiting in line? Always. Some people here can still be unbelievably stubborn.

had to use an inhaler? Never needed one.

been to the doctor? Yeah, to have my blood and urine tests examined.

had increased asthma and/or allergy symptoms? I have neither.

felt like you were fighting a virus? Like I said, I got a bad fever sometime last year. Even though I didn’t show any of the common Covid symptoms (e.g. I had wet cough instead of a dry cough), I felt as if I was rotting away lmao. I could barely stand up and I felt like fainting the second I would raise my head.

been diagnosed with the coronavirus? No.

felt lonely? It’s natural.

went somewhere with a friend? Just a couple of times. I went to UPTC with Andi at the start of the year, then back in Feb I went to Perfy’s with several friends, well aware of our ignorance but badly craving for a sense of normalcy for even just a night.

attended an online event? BANG BANG COOOOOOOOOON. Best 8 hours of my life during the pandemic thus far.

had a business in your area close down? Like the people I know who’ve died from the virus, too many.

received a stimulus check? Hasn’t happened.

received food stamps? No, and I don’t think we have that system in place here. The government just lets the hungry go hungrier.

applied for disability? No, not applicable.

applied for food assistance? No, thankfully we haven’t reached this point.

visited a food pantry? ^

had a fever? Just back in May. Hasn’t happened again since.

believed a conspiracy theory about the virus? Cringe, no.

had to take online classes? When the whole world was still at a loss on how to handle a global pandemic, aka early March, I briefly took Zoom sessions for some of my classes. But it proved to be difficult what with many students struggling with internet connections or being stuck somewhere without their school supplies, so my university canceled the sem altogether not long after and gave everyone general passing grades.

ate at a restaurant? I did a few times. I frequented coffee shops rather than restaurants, though.

walked through a drive-thru? I’ve...driven through a drive-thru, but not walk.

had your mask fog up your glasses? Every damn time I get out of the car, hahaha.

had to go to the hospital because of covid? Nope, not for myself or for someone else.

had to go to the hospital for a different reason? For my fever.

used hand sanitizer? At least once a day.

felt encouraged, joyful, or blessed? Now, especially. Things are starting to look up, at least for my own life.

#survey #surveys

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duskbornbaker · 3 years

Text

Torchwood!Tommy Character Profile

Essentials:

1) What name did they go by as a Kine, and what name do they go by now? Why and how did they choose this name, if it’s different?

Born Tomàs Baker, they were primarily called "Tommy" in life and that continues. As it's been 80 years since they were registered legally dead, they have decided to take on a false surname, as well as to keep Torchwood from knowing too much about them. They borrowed "McDonnell" from their crush from when they were alive. Though, this is moot, as due to a backfire of a ritual, Torchwood 2 now knows their real name.

2) What year were they born (or how old would they be in life), and what age do they appear? What age do they feel?

They were born in 1907 and died in 1925, so they look like an 18 year old, though with the infirmity they experienced and just life being what it was at the start of the 20th century, their "18" looks a little older. They can often pass as early-mid 20s without too much difficulty. In truth, they are 101 years old. The year is 2008, the pyramid has just fallen and to some degree they feel so young and vulnerable. Old World Kindred tend to be older. Princes have held these positions since, some of them, the establishment of the Camarilla nearly a millennium ago. But then, among the Kine they work with, they feel ancient. People reference pop culture from any of the time while they were in the Pyramid and it just flies over their head. They feel out of place among these oh so young and fragile humans. Thankfully, Seòras helps them feel a little more okay with it. Agent Lennox, being nearly 50 years old, also doesn't get the references. They sometimes sit there while Cami and Ash talk about some movie or internet trend and just let the conversations wash over the two of them, absorbing nothing.

3) Which Clan do they belong to? How do they feel about their Clan?

They were Embraced into Clan Tremere and House Tremere. Though, lately, people have started questioning the truth of their affiliation. They're a Thinblood, after all, do they really deserve the title of "Tremere"? This all is compounded by the fall of the Pyramid. The House is in chaos and the childer are unreigned. Kindred openly rebel against their sires and the new House Ipsissimi has been formed. Generally, the Anarchs accept both their status as Thinblood, some among the 14th Generation even going so far as to call the term a slur. They are the Duskborn. Duskborn are burgeoning into a new Clan within the Anarch movement and while Tommy is yet to be forced to choose between the two, they know the time is coming. They are yet to make a decision.

4) Which Predator type do they most align with and why?

Currently: Bagger. It's part of the conditions of their employment. No feeding off living humans. Tommy has given a taste for the blood of corpses, its disgusting but, occasionally a welcome change, as well as animals, honestly somehow more unpleasant than the former and coming with the added issue of needing multiple vessels to even lend themself a somewhat satisfying meal. No, bagged blood is the best of the options available. Further, they don't have to steal it. Torchwood buys the bags at the same rate a hospital would pay and it simply comes out of the food budget. Yvonne *does* question why their food budget is so high, but as of yet hasn't pursued the issue too closely. Thankfully, Lukas covers for Tommy. It's a precarious situation, but one that balances for now.

5) Who Sired them, and into what Generation were they Sired? What’s their relationship with their Sire like, and what were the circumstances of their Embrace?

They were sired by their sister: Somhairlín Baker into the 14th Generation. They were scheduled to be Embraced anyway, by Sam's sire, but before the date was supposed to come, they were struck in a motor vehicle accident while in Galway seeking medical treatment for their chronic anemia. Anemia caused by Sam's clandestine use of Tommy as a Cloven Blood Doll. Somhairlín, feeling guilt, Embraced Tommy. Their parents died. The two bonded closer than in life. This would eventually be a source of great pain in Tommy's life as, in early 2008 following the F1rstlight attack on the Vienna Chantry and the Head of the Tremere Pyramid, Tommy felt need to murder their sister.

6) What level of Humanity are they? Has this changed over the years they’ve been dead?

Tommy's Humanity is very low. Due to the practices of the London Chantry and a development of growing Noddist and Cainite practices, Tommy ended up on the Path of Caine during their time in London. They moved to London to escape Thinblood persecution in the post-War era and it was for naught. In London, Tommy hid themself as Sam's ghoul, and Sam, in turn, entered them into a Blood Wedding, a situation where two Vampires bond themselves to the other threw drinking each other's Vitae. This created a feedback loop where both of them sunk to deeper levels of depravity match for match. And, under Hal Grove, Regent of their Chantry, they began doing research into the Thinblood condition.

The research consisted mostly of Embracing new Thinbloods and finding the limits of the condition: could they use disciplines, could they bond, could they be tapped as a source of Vitae... all of these answers proved to be "sometimes" and the Baker siblings lost grip on their humanity with extreme speed. Since the Fall of the Pyramid, they have been slowly clawing their way back; first: onto the Path of Humanty, a dangerous feat to attempt without personal guidance, and then slowly up the ladder of morality. Now, they sit at humanity 5 -- 6 through 8 being the usual extremes of the average human being.

7) Which Disciplines do they possess, and which do they favor using?

They have the traditional disciplines of Clan Tremere: Thaumaturgy, Dominate, Auspex, but they favor Thaumaturgy. In their role as offensive specialist they favor the paths of Flames and Nebulism. The former as a means of attack and the latter to disable enemies or clear a building of civilians.

8) Who are their Touchstones, if any? / 9) What are their Convictions (moral opinions and standings they hold fast to)?

Cami. A fellow Agent of Torchwood who vouched for them to become member of the team. She represents a value of trusting others judgements. As they say "I take pride in the goodness and strength of my friends and that they, being as such, should care for me."

Lukas. Their boss, the head of Torchwood 2. They keep Tommy in line and enforce the value of the preservation of human life. As much as Tommy is frustrated that Engstrom is blackmailing them to keep them in line, to some degree they are thankful.

10) Do they belong to any sect or are they independent?

They belong to the Anarchs. Hard to be a Camarilla Tremere when you collapsed your old Chantry and murdered your sire. No Camarilla Tremere will touch them. They wouldn't bleed on Tommy if they were on fire.

Life

1) What did they do (as a career or in general) before they were Embraced?

They were a Seminarian, studying to be a Priest. Now, that is just completely out of the realm of possibility.

2) Do they still have mortal family or friends, or descendants of those people? Who were they closest to during life, and is there anyone they’ve contacted after their Embrace?

Still, no. Again? Yes. The people they knew are dead and tracking them down would be dangerous. Once, they tried to find their namesake McDonnell's descendants, but lost track of them when they moved to the New World. Thus is unlife. A series of disappointments. And what would they have said anyway? 100 years ago I wanted to kiss your grandfather? That's not going over well. It's as good a reason as any not to keep pursuing.

3) What were their hobbies, skills, and interests?

They knit. They were rarely able to make the trek to the school at the other end of the island in their youth and so they took up crafts. One of the neighbors had sheep and often sold clothes. With Tommy's health the way it was, they sometimes couldn't get out of the chair for days and spinning wool into yarn by hand and kniting the yarn into fabrics. It was nice. They were always cold so now they had sweaters and blankets to keep themself warm. They also sold some of their wares in town, or, the neighbor sold them and split the profits. A necessary source of income when their father was out at sea so long and money became scarce.

4) Did they have any vices, addictions, or mental illnesses? Which carried over into death?

They smoked. The doctors suggested it as means of strengthening the lungs with hopes of helping them build up the energy to walk. Obviously, this was counter intuitive. When they did feel up to it, and the night air was fresh and cool, Tommy and their friend Larry McDonnell would sneak into the chapel and "borrow" a bottle of communion wine. Red-faced and dizzy, they would fall in love with him over and over again, afraid of what it meant, but craving the times when they felt brave enough to reach out for him. Sometimes Tommy felt like maybe Larry felt something in return. It was hard to peel the alcohol from the desires from the truth, and so they never truly acted on it.

5) What were they most afraid of in life? How has this changed?

They were most afraid of their homosexuality. Did this mean they were going to Hell. Did they have to worry about dragging someone else down with them... This has changed in that they have largely given up on the Catholic faith. Perhaps they'll come back to it, they feel a draw to spirituality to fill the hole left by their lapsed Noddism and worship of their Domitor-and-Thrall. They've attended services a few times lately and it seems like some of the opinions within the flock are shifting. They don't want to get too attached but reattajing to their human faith is helping them feel just that much more Human, an addicting feeling.

6) What were their goals and ambitions in life? How has this changed?

Their goal at the time had been to squash their sexuality with faith. Now, they have embraced their queerness. It's a struggle many days to treat themself with kindness in that front. Hell, it's a struggle most days to treat anyone with kindness. But they're getting better.

7) Did they follow any religion or spiritual paths in life? How did that change when they died, if at all?

They were a Catholic in life, hoping to become a Priest and then in Unlife first abandoned religion but then got drawn in by the lures of Cainite Noddism. Now, with the Fall of the Pyramid, they feel a call to that old religion once again. Who knows where it will take them.

8) When they were Embraced, what was the aftermath like? Did they fake their death, do their loved ones think they went missing, etc.?

Their family died along with them so they faked that they died, too. At least they don't have to worry about their parents thinking they're missing.

Death

1) What have they spent most of their years as a Kindred doing?

Most of it has been spent researching their condition. Now, they are one of the most knowledgeable , probably in the world, on what it means to be a Thinblood.

2) What’s the entire lineage of their bloodline, from them all the way back to their Clan’s Antediluvian? Is there anything in particular that they and their grandsires all had in common?

They were primarily raised by their grandsire. Sam's sire took them on as a second childe, even though they had planned to wait maybe 10 years. So, Tommy got the same education as their sister. His sire, however, I haven't thought as much about.

3) How do they adapt to the changing times around them? Do they still uphold values, styles, or other things from the past?

They definitely dress a little bit out of time. And what's not anachronistic is absolutely horrible. They dont, however, adapt very well. They haven't gone through the back catalogue of media Cami gave them, cultural milestones and things that have happened... Just a few months ago, Tommy found out man had touched foot on the moon. They are more than a little behind the times.

4) Do they have a coterie? What position do they take in that group, if so? Otherwise, do they have any notable Kindred (or other creatures) friends?

Their "coterie" is probably the Torchwood 2 team, deapite being Kine. They serve as a blaster with magic on call they can destroy threats and protect their lives -- especially Lukas Engstrom, who, if he dies, will release a catalogue of all the information he has gathered on Kindred to every intelligence agency in the world, a threat Tommy doesn't take lightly.

They are also connected to Alastríona "Cass" Balach. She is Tommy's sponsor in House Ipsissimi and, by human standards, their Sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous. The disguise is simple wordplay, but the Ipsissimi hide themselves within the Crowleian "Astrum Argenteum" which they in turn have using Alcoholics Anonymous as a front. This also serves as an out for Tommy. They couch their cravings for human blood in terminology based around Alcoholism and thus they are given a space to discuss their emotions. At meetings is also where a Ghouls of Balach's will give them study materials if need be. New rituals and information about the next step on one of their Paths. It's a pretty nice arrangement.

5) Which of their Clan’s stereotypes apply to them? Which do they act against, or embody the opposite of?

They are a neurotic mess. A perfectionist to their core, and sometimes they apply that perfectionism outward becoming a domineering person. They are secretive and dangerous. They have spent decades engaging in unethical magical experiments. Truly, they are quintessential Tremere.

However, they fight to change that. They want to be a better person and a better Kindred. They want to look at a person and not feel a desire to take them apart and find out how they tick. Thankfully, Engstrom keeps them in line on that front, with the actually follow8ng through of it anyway.

6) How do they feel about the Antitribu of their Clan?

Having very nearly been one, they understand the allure. The draw of Vampiric Supremacy and the willingness to bring human kind to their knees, however, they also pulled away. Once their eyes were clear they put their very existence on the line, revealed to the Prince that they had been a Thinblood illegally living in her domain and turned on the Cainites to bring the White Hall Chantry down. They fear the Tremere Antitribu. Their sponsor was also former Goratrix and, bearing the Mark of the Traitor, she was a fullfledged member who partook of the Vaulderie. Whatever brought her out remains to be seen, but Tommy wouldn't have an in at continuing Thaumaturgical Studies without her, and for that, he's grateful.

7) Have they Embraced anyone? Ghouled anyone?

They have, but not to keep around. And having lived in the Blood Bond for decades, they never want to do that to anyone else again.

8) Do they prowl, or is there a city they permanently reside in?

They seem to have settled in Glasgow, as much to be close to their new Sponsor as anything else. And, with their membership in Torchwood 2, they hope to stick around for a long time.

9) What’s their haven like?

They live at the Glasgow Hub: the basement of a nondescript Warehouse in a district of Warehouses, itself hidden by Vampiric magics. They have a private room to live and sleep in near the entrance. When they sleep, they are the first line of defense if something should come in. They protect the themself and their partners with another spell that will wake them immediately if a danger disturbs their residence.

The Hole itself is cozy. Not very big, about the size of a studio apartment. A single room with a bed, a bookshelf, and a fridge to hold Blood Bags. Not too much going on otherwise.

10) Do they believe they are descended from Caine, or do they follow a different path?

They do not believe they are descended from Caine. They have looked at the information Ash has managed to draw from them and it appears that Vampirism may be of extraterrestrial origin. Its exact origin is unknown, but alien stock seems to rule out the concepts purported by Noddism. And, after a period of time otherwise, they are back on the Path of Humanity.

11) How do they feel about Diablerie?

They wonder often. They wonder if they should have Diablerized Sam. Sure, it's a crime in the Camarilla, but they are no longer Camarilla, and they wouldn't be a Thinblood anymore. They would be a stronger force to reckon with, more able to protect their team... But it's a dangerous line of thought. And there's nothing doing, now.

12) Regardless of whether or not they adhere to Camarilla rule, have they ever broken any of the Traditions?

13) Do they believe in Gehenna? How do they feel about Thin-bloods, and do they believe they’re a sign of the end times?

Absolutely. Most of them. Respect of Domain and Hospitality. Their existence is a violation first of all. And they killed their sire. Even with permission, that's still a violation of the Traditions.

14) Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Not anymore. Its been a long unlife, and it was even longer thinking their own existence would draw the death of their people closer. But, they have learned to shrug off these kind of Noddist teachings. And they don't think the world is going anywhere any time soon.

The moment the Blood Bond broke, they frenzied and drank someone to death out of rage. An innocent person dead because they couldn't keep their cool. Other than that, no. They have kept themself well fed these years. And tht hope to keep it that way.

#tw!verse #ooc

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minsugapie · 4 years

Text

Soulmate

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: soulmate au, fluff

words: 4039

a/n: YIKE i’m late on 4/7 bday specials this year but here’s joon’s lmao happy belated, sexy boi 😂💕💜

• • • • • •

2 years ago

In a world where soulmates exist, there were always people falling in love, rarely out of it. In a world where soulmates exist, you hadn’t found yours.

Matching, incomplete tattoos.

That’s what distinguished soulmates. They completed once you really looked each other in the eye for the first time. Yours was placed between your breasts, which was probably the first thing that made finding your soulmate hard. The second thing, was the fact that you didn’t like going out and meeting people. There was a tree without any leaves. It was honestly depressing. It didn’t even have any colour.

You had to look at it every time you got dressed, and you hated the sight of it. Sure, it meant that there was somebody out there for you, but it was still not the most pleasant sight to behold.

You were getting drunk at the bar with your friend because earlier that day, you got fired from yet another job. You just wanted to make some money to go back to school. Was that too much to ask for?

You knew you never should have taken that gap year and travelled, completely draining any money that you had effectively saved throughout high school. The excuse that your employers all had was the same. There were budget cuts, and you were the last hired. That meant that you were the first to go.

You were the epitome of bad luck.

On the other hand, your best friend was the best best friend that you could ask for. He was always the greatest support and constantly told you how much he loves you. Really, who needed a soulmate with a friend like that?

Unfortunately, he had found his soulmate a few years back, and they were the happiest couple. His boyfriend preferred staying in and looking after their two cats, so he wouldn’t be showing up any time soon.

“You’ll find something!” He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. It had already been pretty busy in the bar, so whatever the two of you said, it almost needed to be shouted.

“At this rate, I’ll have to go work in grandpa’s restaurant, and it’s kind of the last thing that I want to do. I hate working in food and dealing with people all day long.”

“Oh, you’d be fine. Honestly, you can’t really be picky at the moment.”

You were people watching during your conversation, and a thought flashed through your mind. “Listen, what if I just need to spice up my life a little? I’m in a routine. I’ll do something that will shake up the mix of things!”

Your friend sat straight up on his seat and clapped. “Yes, henny! Like hook up with some guy at this bar tonight?”

You scrunched up your face at his suggestion. “Not exactly where I was going, but it’s not an entirely bad idea…”

“And hey look! That guy just got up to get another drink! He’s hot and not here with anyone but his buddies!” Your friend always did that. Talking to people you didn’t know was entirely out of your comfort zone when in social settings, so how did he think you’d just be able to walk up to this guy. He wasn’t wrong, however, because from afar, that man looked exactly like your type.

“But what if he has his soulmate already? That’ll be just embarrassing for me!”

“What if you’re his soulmate?”

“Doubtful.”

• • • • • •

Namjoon was at the bar with his old schoolmates to celebrate his last night before heading to the army. Actually, both he and Hoseok would be going. They were normally all keen to hangout at one of their houses, but not tonight. Tonight was special.

“So what do the soulmates think about our night out tonight?” Taehyung asked. He and Namjoon were the only ones out of the seven that hadn’t found theirs. Namjoon was about to give up and cared less about it now. He was convinced that his soulmate lived across the world because there was no way that she lived here. He would have found her already. Taehyung was ever the optimist, so he was always on the lookout.

“Honestly, mine is just sad that I’ll be leaving for two years,” Hoseok commented, taking a sip of his water. He was driving tonight. He probably wanted to do some things with his fiancée when he got home. Come tomorrow afternoon, he and Namjoon would be on a bus and headed out.

“That’s a bonus to finding your soulmate, Tae, they have trust in you,” Jimin had found his soulmate the day that he got his tattoo. His soulmate was his girlfriend at the time. He simply didn’t know what it was like to live and have to find the other person.

“Well, I wouldn’t know now would I?” Tae countered, downing the rest of his drink, spilling his shirt. It made the group of guys laugh.

“I think Joon will find his soulmate soon,” Jin announced with a knowing look. He always said random things out of the blue and a lot of times, they came true.

“Yah! How could that be? I’m going away for two years?” Namjoon asked Jin, looking around at the others and finding their expressions similar.

“Well, cheers! Because if Jin said it, it must be true!” Jungkook laughed, patting his hyungs on the back. He was sitting between Jin and Namjoon, effectively able to reach them both at once.

“Maybe you’ll find her at the bar tonight,” Yoongi joked with a straight face. Namjoon watched as he looked around the place, spotting anyone who looked to be looking for the soulmates. That was common, going to the bar after work to see if one’s soulmate was trying to find them as well.

“Pfft, okay, sure,” Namjoon replied, getting up from his seat to get another drink. If he was going to have to deal with this soulmate talk all night, he needed more alcohol. However, what he didn’t expect was for some girl to walk up to him before he could even make it there.

“Listen. Do you have your soulmate?” You asked, looking anywhere but into his eyes. He could tell it was on purpose.

“I do not,” was all he could muster. He’d never seen you before, and he couldn’t help but admire your courage. By the looks of it, you weren’t one of those people without soulmates that frequently went to the bar simply to hook up with other people without their soulmates.

“Do you think I’m hot?” You bluntly followed, taking him by surprise.

Who was this girl? Namjoon took a step back from you and looked you up and down. He definitely thought you were. In fact, he’d argue that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Taking a deep breath, he replied, “Yes.”

“Good. Then let’s go,” you urged, taking his hand and leading him to the bathrooms. He still hadn’t been able to meet your eye. You were looking anywhere but at his eyes. Did you not want to see if you two were soulmates?

“Where are we going?” He asked with a laugh. You were quick at pulling him away from his friends. He wondered what they were talking about, and if they had seen what just happened.

You dragged him right into the girls’ bathroom, pulling him into the nearest stall. You didn’t waste another second before you kissed him.

Namjoon was in no position to deny what you wanted from him. He hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a long time. He had been worried about what his soulmate would think, but after this long without any new developments in the soulmate department, he thought it was about time to break his dry spell.

The fervour he put into the kiss surprised him. Just how much he liked the feeling of your lips on his also surprised him. He had you pinned against the wall of the stall, using your hair to angle your head how he pleased. You only responded exactly how he wanted to how aggressive he was being.

It didn’t take long for the two fo you to pick up the pace, tongues dancing, teeth clashing. It was intense, hot, and he could only think about the heat of your hands on his back. You were wearing a button up, and he was quick to undo them, exposing your chest to him. Your hands gripped his ass, pulling him flush against your waist. Namjoon already blatantly wanted you; every inch of you was his for the taking at the moment, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

He backed away from you forcing you to look into his eyes. He wished you’d have let him look into them before because they were beautiful. You were breathing quickly, not letting go of your grip on his waist. However, he wasn’t about to waste any more time. He looked down, taking in the swell of your breasts before noticing the outline of a shape, mostly covered by your bra.

“What’s this?” He asked, hooking his finger underneath where the wires connected to pull the bra away and get a better look.

“Oh, th-that’s my soulmate mark. It’s not completed yet if that’s what you’re wondering,” you breathed. Namjoon barely heard what you said because what you were saying definitely did not match what he was looking at.

What he saw was a tattoo in the process of being completed. A cherry blossom tree with leaves and blossoms in beautiful pinks and greens.

It couldn’t be this? You couldn’t be his soulmate. There was absolutely no way that this could have happened like this. He didn’t want to find you now. Now wasn’t the time. He was leaving. He had given up finding you.

“Something came up! We have to go!” Namjoon heard a man call out after he barged into the bathroom.

“Oh, that’s me,” you whispered, pushing him off. Namjoon was reluctant to let you go, but what could be done?

You were out of his sight in a matter of seconds, the button on your shirt done up like what just happened between you two wasn’t actually real. It hadn’t happened.

• • • • • •

Present day

You were cleaning the tables at your grandfather’s restaurant, exactly what you hadn’t wanted to do. But he was family, and you had time to help out. The extra tip money didn’t hurt either. When your grandfather had fallen and sprained his ankle a while back, you came in to help out, and even though he was now better, you hadn’t left.

As much as you hadn’t like it at the beginning, you loved your job, and you loved interacting with the regulars. This restaurant was like a big, extended family.

“Hmm, it’s about time Namjoon comes back, don’t you think?” you heard your grandfather say from across the restaurant during the afternoon lull.

“Who’s Namjoon?” It didn’t surprise you that he was talking about some random customer. He loved them all like family.

“Oh, right. You were never here when he was a regular. His parents used to come in every week, and then when he grew up, he used to come in with his sister every week for coffee. When she moved away, he started coming by himself and bringing a book or homework or simply to chat with me.” This Namjoon guy seemed like a nice dude. You wondered briefly what had happened to him. You’d been working here for a year and a half now, and he hadn’t been in once.

“Where’s he been?” You blurted as you swept the floors.

Taking a seat, your grandfather sighed before replying, “He’s doing his military service.”

That would make perfect sense if he was someone around your age. “When’s he coming back?”

“He should be back any day. I wonder if he found his soulmate yet. He was looking pretty hard for a few years there.” Your grandfather stared at the fading tattoo on the inside of his arm. Your grandma had passed a few years back, and he’d been lonely ever since; you could tell. There was a reason he kept himself busy with this place and all the people.

Seeing him staring at his tattoo made you think of yours. You still wondered why and how it was complete. You couldn’t even miss him or long for him because you had no idea who he was. There was no way you met your soulmate and didn’t realize.

“Well maybe when he comes back, he’ll be with his soulmate.”

Later that night, when you were wiping down the tables after the dinner rush, you heard the bell above the door jingle. Nobody ever came in at this time. Looking towards the door, you noticed a man dressed in a camouflage uniform and a duffle bag.

Maybe this was Namjoon? It was too much of a coincidence for it to not be after what your grandfather had told you this afternoon.

“Grandpa,” you heard the man call, sitting down in a booth like he’d been doing the exact same routine his entire life. You watched as he looked down at the table and traced something in the wood. It was a carving that you’d noticed before. Maybe he was the culprit.

Your grandfather was busy in the backroom with some calculations, so you walked over to the table to greet the man. “He’s in the back.”

The man looked startled to see you, taking his hat off and bowing quickly. “You scared me.”

When you finally made eye contact with the guy, a spark of recognition passed between you two. You’d seen this guy before.

• • • • • •

Namjoon recognized you the second you walked in front of him. He was sure he would have noticed you earlier if you would have been facing the door when he walked into the shop.

You were simply staring at him but not in the way that he wanted you to be staring at him. He knew that you were his soulmate, but obviously you didn’t know the same. How could you? You weren’t the one that say your tattoo change in front of your eyes. You weren’t the one that knew that his tattoo, which had previously only been flower petals, was complete. It was now two branches with beautiful buds all around going across his collarbones.

Actually, he’d been quite annoyed with you for the last two years. For one, he didn’t know if he’d be able to find you again because he didn’t even get your name. And then on top of that, whenever he was asked about you after some of the guys had seen his full tattoo, he had nothing to say because he had no idea who you were.

“You’re that guy from the bar that night, right?” You asked, and he noticed that you looked a little shy. You had a menu in your hand, but Namjoon didn’t need it. He knew it like the back of his own hand.

“You mean the one that you dragged into the bathroom and made out with?” He attempted to joke, realizing that you were easily embarrassed when you blushed as soon as the words left his mouth.

“The very one,” you laughed, still visibly embarrassed about what had happened that night, whether you wanted to be or not. “How do you know my grandpa?”

Namjoon’s whole body froze. The man that he’d always considered to be a part of his family was actually a part of your family. “I’ve been coming here since I was little. How come I’ve never seen you here before?”

You sighed, taking a seat in the booth across from him after looking around to see if there was anyone in the restaurant. Namjoon didn’t understand it, but he felt very comfortable with you, and he hoped you felt the same way about him.The only thing was, he didn’t know how he was going to be able to bring up the whole soulmate thing without freaking you out.

“I never liked coming here because I hated seeing people that I didn’t know. I was really shy,” you admitted. “Although, I did spend time in the back a lot. You probably never saw me because I was always back there.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to form a reply, but nothing came. You continued, “So why is this your first stop back after getting off?”

“Grandpa makes the best coffee and feel good food so here I am, wanting to cheer myself up. But, it seems something else has done it this time instead of the food.”

Namjoon would be lying to everyone, including himself, if he didn’t acknowledge how beautiful you’d become in two years. Your hair, which had previously been very long, was chopped just above your shoulders, your face matured, your body just as beautiful as he remembered. Only this time, he got a good look at you. There were no hindrances like bad lighting and kissing to stop him from fully looking at you now.

You scrunched your eyebrows together, seeming to process that information that he’d just spewed. When he noticed you feel awkward and stood abruptly, he kind of felt bad.

“I should get back to work.”

“But there’s nobody else here…” He tilted his head, putting on his best flirty face. “Listen, do you want to continue what we started at the bar?” He knew he was reaching, but he thought that maybe the best way you could find out about the tattoo would be if you found it yourself.

You seemed taken aback by what he’d suggested, so he quickly stood and added, “You don’t have to. I just think it’s a shame that neither of us really got what we wanted that night.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re not just lonely after being away from girls for so long? I’m trying to focus on school and graduating in the next couple of years. I don’t need any kind of distraction, let alone some guy, who’s not even my soulmate wanting to hook up with me even though I’ve technically met my soulmate. I have no idea who he is. Plus, I doubt he’d be fine with it since it’s clear we know of each other’s existence.”

“I’m sure he would be very okay with it, happy even.”

“Are you some sort of sadist or something?”

Namjoon wanted to continue this playful banter with you because he thought it was hilarious. Your reactions were exactly what he was expecting. However your grandpa came out of the back. “Namjoon! I thought I heard your voice! You’ve grown up so much!”

Namjoon’s face broke into a smile at the sight of the old man. He instantly went to him and hugged him. “I’m back for good now, Grandpa.” It was emotional, seeing this man for the first time in years.

“Are you bugging him, honey?”

“Actually, grandpa, he’s the one bugging me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to the kitchen and clean.”

Namjoon watched as you retreated, completely interested in you. Everything that you were was what he wanted.

“She’s my soulmate,” he whispered, loud enough for Grandpa to hear, but not loud enough for you to have heard it form the back.

“Don’t joke about things like that,” Grandpa laughed, sitting in the booth with Namjoon.

“I’m not joking. We met the night before I left. She doesn’t know it’s me.” After saying the words, he was slightly sad, but he knew it would be fine, since you were working in his favourite place in the world.

“Well, then I’ll let you two figure it out. What did you say to make her mad?”

Now that was something that Namjoon would not share with the kind old man. It was just too much.

• • • • • •

A few weeks had passed, and your grandpa was out on an errand that afternoon.

While twiddling your fingers because no one was around, you realized that you had almost had it with Namjoon. He was coming into the shop at the same time every day, and every day, he was charming you.

In reality, it wasn’t him that you were frustrated with. It was yourself.

You couldn’t not look at him.

When he had first walked into the shop, he was gorgeous, fit, just done his military service. How could someone not be attracted to him? Now, whenever he walked into the shop with his everyday clothes and the books that he was reading, you couldn’t help but stare at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He flirted with you when you served him, and as much as you were resisting his charms, you knew he was going to wear you down.

Ever since he suggested finishing what you’d started in the bar, you’d been thinking about it. Whenever he spoke, you remembered the feel on his lips on yours. Whenever he moved, you imagine his muscles while they held you.

It was an intense desire for something, or more someone, that you’d never experienced before.

So it was on that fateful day, when he walked in, wearing a v-neck and glasses, that you’d had enough of your own emotions.

You swiftly walked by the door after he walked in and turned the open sign to closed. Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him away before he was able to sit down. “Come with me,” you whispered.

Namjoon simply followed you without hesitation, dropping his book on the table. “Woah, this is what the back room looks like,” he laughed once you’d pulled him out of window shot.

You looked at him directly in the eye as you then said, “Do you still want to finish what we couldn’t at the bar?”

He tilted his head comically to the side. “I thought you were waiting for your soulmate.”

“Well, he’s not coming along, and you’re…tempting.” Normally these words would have embarrassed you, but this time, didn’t feel any kind.

“I’m tempting?” He teased, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear with a smirk.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Namjoon shook his head, going down to meet your lips. Kissing was familiar with him, but a really good familiar. He was warm and hugged you to him as soon as he could. Your hands mussed his hair as you deepened the kiss. He sat back onto the edge of the desk, bringing you with him.

You let your hands fall down to his chest, feeling the muscle underneath your fingertips. You upped away, wanting to see what you were feeling. Peeking out from his v-neck was a tattoo, probably his soulmate mark, so you pulled the shirt completely over his head to inspect it further. It was similar to yours.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see he was waiting for your reaction. Really, you didn’t know how to react because it all made sense. What had happened between the two of you the bar was destiny.

“Why didn’t you tell me that it was you the day you came in?” You asked calmly, not taking your eyes off the tattoo. It was beautiful and accentuated his chest nicely.

“I was going to tell you, but I chickened out. If I knew you were going to be this calm about it, I would have told you so long ago. We’ve wasted so much time.”

You smiled at his words. “I don’t know. I kinda enjoyed our little game that we had going on. We wouldn’t have been able to get to know each other the same way if you’d straight up told me,” you explained. How could you have no realized that it was him? It was obvious. No wonder he was so tempting.

Namjoon smiled, eyes glistening as he silently agreed that the game was fun. “Well, either way, I guess we should make up for lost time. Wanna come over after work? I should go before grandpa comes back from the market and finds us like this…”

• • • • • •

MASTERLIST

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random-imagines-blog · 4 years

Text

Issues {Charles Xavier x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3868 Summary: After a long-term abusive relationship, it’s hard to feel comfortable in a safe space. You are tempted to leave, but Charles wants you to stay. Notes: Descriptions of abuse. May be triggering.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngster’s was your sanctuary against the darkest times in your life. “Please, make yourself at home,” Charles had said when he had brought you to the school after finding you beat up in your old apartment. “I can assure you, no one will hurt you here.” So you had - you had a bedroom all on your own that you didn’t have to share with anyone, for the first time in your adult life. You could stretch out, cuddle the pillows, hog the blankets, and not have to worry about any repercussions. You had a dresser with clothes - not many, mind you, only what you had managed to salvage - that you could wear without criticism. You didn’t have to worry about being called frumpy, ugly, too sexy, too cute, you could wear a dress without your ex-boyfriend screaming, asking who you were dressing up for. You had your own bathroom where you only kept a bit of make up - absolutely no concealer since you had no need for covering up bruises anymore. You could take a long bath without your ex storming in and asking who you want to be so clean for. His insults never echoed off of these walls - it was a fresh start. A new beginning.

Charles had even set you up with a job to keep you busy throughout the day. You acted as a mentor to the few students that you had, giving them guidance on how to make it in the world outside of this school when they were ready to graduate. You only had to hope that they wouldn’t get themselves into the unfortunate circumstances that you had out there.

“I think that you have a really bright future out there, Sean,” You smiled at the red haired boy. His smile was beaming bright. “You just have to work on your confidence, but I’m sure that you’ll manage that just fine.”

“Excuse me,” Hank’s head popped into your small office, glasses slightly askew. You nodded to Sean, who got up to leave the room, his appointment being over anyhow.

“What is it, Hank?” You asked with a smile.

“You have a phone call,” He said, pointing to the phone that was on your desk. Indeed, as you took a look at it, there was a redlight blinking, meaning that someone had been put on hold.

Something about it felt wrong though, and you stared at that light, even as Hank left to go about his business. You never had a call before, no one knew that you were here. Your ex had severed your relationship with your parents, and they had moved on without you. It just didn’t make sense, so in order to solve the mystery, you lifted up the phone and pressed the button.

“Y/n,” A heavily panting voice came through the receiver. Your heart was already starting to pound when you heard that you had a call, but hearing your ex’s voice was enough to make it go into overdrive.

“Why are you calling me?” Firstly, your voice came out far more confident than you felt, and secondly, you sat frozen in your chair, every part of your body stiff and rigid. “I thought that you were told to never talk to me again.”

You knew the story, as far as Charles had gently told it to you over a cup of tea the night you arrived here. When he and Erik had tracked you down using Cerberus, they had knocked on your door just as your ex was opening it to leave you bruised and broken once more. Erik had gone after him while Charles had gone to your side to help you up to your feet and help you pack your few belongings to take you out of there. Even if he hadn’t shown you his powers, even if he hadn’t spoken into your mind about how you were going somewhere safe, you would have gone with him simply because he was better than staying where you were. And according to him, Erik had 'told your ex to leave you alone’ but you had the feeling it was not that simple. It’s never simple when Erik was around, especially when he was in a temper.

“Why, didn’t you miss me?” You could hear something in the tone of his voice, but you weren’t sure what it was. “Those men that separated us - they blocked my number, I had to drive to a restaurant across town before I finally got through.”

“It’s for a good reason,” You said, shakily, feeling the need to explain yourself, and your friends, through habit.

“Y/N, they’re trying to turn you against me baby, I know that you miss me and that you still love me - please, just come home.” Oh, how that made your heart go into overdrive, because despite the bruises, despite the yelling, he did always find a way to rebuild your fragile state. “Nothing can keep us apart, you know that baby, come on, tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up - I only know it’s a New York area code.”

A throat clearing sound came from the door, which made you nearly jump out of your skin. Charles stood, leaning against the doorframe of your office, looking at you with grave concern. Your ex continued to talk on the phone, taking your silence for disobedience.

“Really, I’ll come and pick you up now if you tell me where you are and the punishment for leaving me will be very minor. If you tell me right now, you may be able to leave the house in days instead of weeks.”

A chill went up your spine as his tone changed from something friendly into coaxing an animal out of hiding with intent to kill. You stared at Charles, not sure what to do, frozen in place.

When Charles looked into your eyes, he saw the pleading look behind them - he didn’t have to read your mind in order to get that. During the beginning of the phone call, he had heard the echoing of your ex’s voice in your head as he had been strolling by, and he knew that he had to see if you were okay.

“You can put down the phone, y/n, he won’t hurt you,” Charles said, slowly. You knew he wasn’t in your head, he wasn’t commanding you to do something, but nonetheless, you brought the phone down and returned it to the cradle, cutting off your ex in mid-word.

Within a moment, Charles was next to you as the tears started to flow down your face and you curled into your chair like you were a small child. You’d never act this way in front of anyone, especially someone like Charles who was both your employer and your dear friend, but your ex always managed to bring it out of you. “I don’t think he’s ever going to stop calling me, Charles, I should just give up.”

He ran his fingers through your hair, removing the strands that stuck to the moistness of your cheeks, and offered the handkerchief that was in his pocket. “I don’t think you should do that, love, you’re stronger away from him. If you go back, things will only be bad, I don’t need to see into his mind to tell you that much.”

You took the handkerchief and wiped your eyes, a bit of mascara coming off onto it, and you made a note to wash it for him. “I don’t want you to get involved in this Charles, he might try to hurt you too.”

The handsome young man backed away from you after you had said that. “I’ve been involved since the moment that I found you,” He told you. “As long as you’re here, you’ll be safe, but if you are back with him, I cannot make any guarantees.” He left you on your own, handkerchief in hand, and closed the door so that you would not be interrupted. However, he did linger by it, his hand on the knob, wondering if he was doing the right thing by leaving you alone to decide what to do. He had to talk to someone about this, and immediately set out to find Raven in hopes that she may be able to help.

You managed to recover, and did an appointment with Alex before you went to the laundry room and hand washed the beautiful handkerchief that Charles had loaned you. As you scrubbed at the mascara stain with a small bristle brush, you saw the small details, such as his initials embroidered in the corner in blue thread. Leave it to Charles to have such expensive things.

You hung it to dry for a little bit in the sunshine, and as you laid out on a chair to watch as the breeze blew it dry, you did some thinking. Oh, you knew that Charles had a point, that your safety wasn’t guaranteed if you left the school, but his would be. He didn’t know what your ex was capable of. And besides, at best, if you went back to him, you would only have to put up with it for another couple of years until he finally killed you. You would go, you decided. Tonight. You knew that there were enough problems with Erik and his obsession over Shaw, and the training of the students - and what exactly they were training for.

You took the handkerchief off the clothes line once it was dry. You could smell the faint sent of flowers that the breeze had carried over, and embedded within the fabric. Charles hopefully wouldn’t mind that, and you returned to the interior of the school to return it to him.

He was busy, though his office door wasn’t entire closed. You peeked in and saw that he was sitting with Raven, his arm around her shoulders in a very brotherly way, and they were talking in low tones to one another. You were always jealous of the way that Raven got on with others, even though like you, she wasn’t the most confident person in the world.

“You were right, y/n has to make their own decision,” Raven was saying, which made you step back behind the door so they wouldn’t see you eavesdropping. “I know how you feel about them but... you can’t control the people that you care about. It’s not right.”

It was more of a shock hearing this than it was when your ex managed to call the school.

“There’s no way that y/n would go back, right?” Charles asked, sounding insecure. It wasn’t very often that he didn’t know the answer to something. Raven leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed.

“Probably wouldn’t if you told them how you feel,” She suggested to him.

You took a couple of steps back, then ran towards your room, having heard enough. Charles had some sort of feelings and that cemented everything for you - you were going to go back to your ex. Nobody else would think that way, you knew that, because anyone would be lucky to have Charles care about them. He was handsome, kind, had an adorable accent, very intelligent. He could have anybody that he wanted - and he deserved better than you. You started to pack as quickly as you could, throwing everything into your bag. As you did so, you started to think - you would walk to the city, or even hitch-hike if the weather took a bad turn, catch the first bus home. As soon as you made it back to your city, you would call Charles and apologize for leaving so quickly, but it was something that you had to do to protect him. To protect everyone in the school, because their powers would only go so far against your ex’s anger. Perhaps he was a mutant too, and his power was rage, you didn’t know.

You ran a brush through your hair before tossing it into your bag. It wasn’t a necessary item but it was the first gift that you got after arriving here - it had been Raven’s and she gave it to you on the first day of your job. You made your bed, so as not to inconvenience anyone, then snuck out through the door while you assumed that everyone was at dinner.

But not everyone was. And it was the person that you wanted to see least - not Charles, but Erik. He stood by the door with an eyebrow raised, arms crossed in front of him as if he had been waiting for you.

“You being here has been good for everyone, what possible reason could you have for leaving?” He asked you, looking taller than ever in the way that he looked down upon you. He waited for an answer, but you had none, you just stood there, holding onto your bag, your eyes pleading with him to please move. “I’m not a mind-reader like Charles, but I can tell you that your ex-partner means you harm.”

So news had gotten around that he had called you. The only person who knew who it was on the other end of the line was Charles, so he must have told. He shouldn’t have.

“You’re not Charles,” You agreed with Erik, “so you can’t understand my reason for leaving - please, let me go. You two told me that I was free to leave at anytime.”

“I didn’t think you would go back to that situation when I said that,” Charles’s voice joined the conversation, coming down the hallway as if he had been listening the whole time. He never could help himself from eavesdropping, you had noticed. In his hands, he had a clear container of food - whatever had been for dinner, it looked like. You could see potatoes, and carrots, and who knew what else. “Of course we can’t stop you, darling, as much as we both want to.”

“Do you really?” You asked, looking at him. You couldn’t voice the reason you wanted to leave - to protect him, because it sounded so incredibly weak when it was put into words, but you thought it loud enough for him to catch onto it. He blinked, then wiped a tear out of his eye that you had not been expecting.

“You know that everyone here would stop him, even using our powers if necessary, if he found out where you were.” He said, moving in between you and Erik, who duly stepped away to let the two of you talk. The air felt cooler now that he was gone, because the tensions began to grew. There was something about being alone with Charles - it made the hair on your arms stand up, it made your heart beat fast, it made you have to lick your lips because they were constantly tingling in his presence. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, you’re more powerful than he is. If you only knew-” “I’m not afraid of what he can do to me, I haven’t been afraid of that in a long time.” Charles’s mouth closed as you started to finally speak. Of course, once you started, it was hard to stop. You had been holding things in for a long time now. “Everything that he did to me, I - I could take it. You don’t understand, if he hit me ... he was paying attention to me and ... and I needed that. You’re perfect Charles, and you’ll never understand that feeling of loneliness. And when he isolated me from my family, when he made me turn all of my friends against me ... he made sure that I only had him. It’s going to happen again, whether I go back or not. Leaving now - at least I’ll have some control over it. He can’t take the control of this decision away from me. You’ll either hate me because I leave, hate me for some reason I can’t control, or hate me because he’s going to come and try to hurt you and I - I’d rather just rip off the bandaid now, Charles, because if I spent anymore time around any of you, I’ll never be able to leave.”

Charles stayed quiet, both hands on the tupperware container full of food, squeezing it until you saw that his knuckles were white. “Because of some reason you can’t control?” He asked, looking at you with confusion. Your words were echoing in his mind, but those in particular. “Why don’t we go into my office, y/n, and we can have a talk about this in a more private setting.”

You looked outside the windows and saw that the sky was steadily darkening. It was getting later, which meant that dinner was about to be over and the students would be walking around, trying to burn their energy before bed. Weakly, you nodded and followed Charles towards the office that you had been outside of just a short time before. Confusion was still evident on his face as he took a seat, not behind the desk, but on the comfortable looking couch, and he patted next to him. You set your bag down by the door before joining him, but after everything that you had just said, it was hard to look him in the eye.

Charles lightly rested his hand on your knee which made you breathe in quickly. “Even if you were to go against us, there is no way that I would hate you,” He started off by saying. His eyes, far bluer than any eyes should be, were heavy on you until you looked right back at them, and saw the honesty, the emotion behind them. Charles is a mind reader, but he is not a deceiver. “If that is one of your fears, then we can work on it together. That’s the only way that we can prove to you that we’re not going to hate you. Even if you leave, even if he comes here, there’s nothing that can happen that would make me turn my heart on you.”

You noticed that he had switched from 'we’ to 'my’ for the last bit there. His heart. That was enough to get yours going. And once more, but in an entirely different way than before - you broke down. Instead of blabbering on and releasing the thoughts, you released your emotions. Your head came down on your shoulder as you began to cry, and he gently patted your back. You noticed after a few moments that your whole body was now pressed against his because he had pulled you into a hug. His face was remarkably close to yours, and you could hear him whispering into your ear.

“It’s all going to be alright, whatever you choose, it’ll be alright, I’ll always be with you.”

It was the first time that you heard something like that. Nice, kind, comforting words without there being some sort of threat behind them. A few more minutes passed until you felt exhausted from the emotional release, both emotionally and physically. It was hard to tear yourself away from Charles, in more ways than one. The tears had made his shirt stick to your face, and you had to peel yourself off slowly. Once you were away, you held your head in hands, realizing that you probably looked a mess, with the tears running down your face, the snot, the messed up make up.

“My bathroom is right through there, you can go clean yourself up and I’ll get your dinner ready,” Charles said, softly. He was so courteous, though you realized he probably read your thoughts about how you looked. You nodded slowly, and got up, going into the bathroom to wash your face, blow your nose, and generally try to make yourself look less puffy. Before you left the small room, you paused in front of the mirror and forced yourself to smile. Charles had given you all the confirmation that you needed. This, now and forever, was your home. Perhaps you wouldn’t be hated after all. Perhaps - perhaps, you might find the opposite of hate.

You left the bathroom feeling much better than you had when you went in. Set out on Charles’s desk was dinner, still in the tupperware, but it was open and he had folded up some tissues to use as a napkin, and rested a fork and a knife on it. He wasn’t in the room, but he was just walking back in with two glasses of water. “You look better,” He said with a smile, setting the waters onto the desk. He pulled out the chair behind it, offering it to you.

You stepped towards him rather than towards the chair and pressed your hand to his chest tentatively. You could still feel the wet spot that you had made. “I will stay and wash that for you,” You told him, feeling bad for ruining his shirt.

He rested his fingers on your wrist, then rubbed your arm down to your elbow and back up. “Just stay - please. I want you to stay.” He said, his face completely serious. It was the same expression that he had when he pleaded with you to come with him in the first place.

“Believe me, I want to stay too,” You said, closing your eyes, focusing on his touch. Charles had slightly rough fingers - perhaps from years of holding a pencil and writing all of those notes that helped his advanced education.

You felt it before you sensed it. How his breath was against your lips now, your whole arm was against his chest rather than just your hand because he had moved in forward. A second passed before there was contact, his soft pink lips brushing against your own. Quickly, you moved into it, giving him the kiss that the both of you seemed to desire more than anything else. It wasn’t a long kiss, but just enough for you to feel like your entire body was filled with electricity. It must be how Havok felt when he was about to use his powers. You smiled and moved your hand up to Charles’s shoulder.

“Where was I going again?” You asked with a small smile. He looked at you with those amazingly blue eyes, the corner of his lips turning upwards in a crooked smile.

“To my desk, to eat your dinner, then off to bed. You have some unpacking to do in the morning.”

#Charles Xavier #charles xavier x reader #Charles Xavier oneshot #XMen #XMen oneshots #Marvel #Marvel oneshots #oneshots #request #charlesx

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sapphirelass · 3 years

Text

Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

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

For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant.

Word count: ≈ 2400

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

Two Peas in a Pod

Harry Potter and his twin sister Lucy were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas Lucy took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.

It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and Lucy’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, Lucy, her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.

***

They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and Lucy shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and Lucy with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.

“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully

There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.

“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”

A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.

A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”

“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily

“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked

“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”

“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”

Lucy, who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though!

“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded

“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”

“How though?” Inquired Lucy, pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”

That was the top of the iceberg.

“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”

Lucy flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. Lucy could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.

An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. Lucy threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.

“Luce!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”

He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and Lucy knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.

“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”

She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice.

“Sorry…” Lucy mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave Lucy a supportive pat on the back.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “Lucy, did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”

“Yes” stated Lucy simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”

“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”

Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as Lucy sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”

“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”

***

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when Lucy stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.

“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”

Lucy turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”

Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.

“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.

“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”

The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…

***

*knock knock*

There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. Lucy took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”

Lucy apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.

“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as Lucy reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.

Lucy grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”

“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”

***

It was about three hours later, when Lucy slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero.

Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side.

“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”

She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”

She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night Luce”

She didn’t answer…

***

“Hey,” he said, ruffling her long, strawberry blonde hair, “Feeling better?”

“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.

“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”

“Nothing…”

“Luce!”

“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”

“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”

Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall.

***

“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing Lucy to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.

“Wha…”

“Lucy - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.

She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin.

I must obey my superiors

No one said a thing. Lucy was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.

Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.

Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.

Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years.

This was his sister, and it was far from okay.

Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.

~ L

Masterlist

#harry potter #harryxsister #harry potter x sister #harry potter x twin #imagine #umbridge #detention #torture #siblings #angst #hp #reader #oc

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