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bjfinn · 9 months

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MOMMY DEAREST

"I Feel Pretty" by Leonard Bernstein & Stephen Sondheim, from the musical "West Side Story" (1956), with alterations by me

"So ... my little boy has a new family now, eh? How sweet."

Beej was unable to move. He tried to speak, to scream, to warn the others, but couldn't manage more than a strangled squeak.

"Now, now!" Juno said, blowing smoke from the second mouth in her throat. She shuffled to his bedside. "You don't really want to wake everyone else up, do you? Your precious new family? You know if that happens, I'll have to kill all of them -- and I'll make you watch." She pointed a long, bony finger at him, the wickedly sharp talon glinting in the moonlight coming in through the attic window. "No, you don't want that, do you?"

He was trembling now -- in fear, yes, but also rage. He opened his mouth to speak, and this time he managed a whispered, "How --?"

"How did I get through processing so quickly?" she asked. "I used to run the department -- don't you think I picked up a few tricks during that time? Your father says hello, by the way.

"Now, where was I? Ohhh, yes -- now I remember!" In the blink of an eye, Juno had leapt up and was now sitting on Beej's chest. He struggled for breath, gasping for air. "You're mine! You always will be! I made you, and I can destroy you -- don't ever forget that!"

She got off of him, and he gasped, finally able to breathe again.

Juno leaned over him. "Now give Mama a kiss goodnight." She pressed her ice-cold lips against his forehead -- they burned like a brand, and he gasped again. "Sweet dreams, kiddo."

And with that, she was gone.

Beej lay awake for the rest of the night in a cold sweat, his mother's words ringing in his ears, tears running down his cheeks.

*****

"What shall we do today?" Delia asked.

Beej shrugged listlessly. "I don't know --"

Delia knew that most people thought she was a ditz, a flake for believing in all the New Age stuff, and maybe she was, but the fact was that she was actually sometimes able to read people's auras -- and Beej's aura was turbulent, a swirling cloud of purple and red with wisps of black. Then again, so was his hair, so it wasn't too hard to figure out that something was bothering the demon.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Beej tried to hide it, but she could see the anguish in his eyes.

"Things won't get better if you don't talk about it, Beej."

His eyes welled with tears. "It's my mom -- my ... other mom. She... she came to see me last night."

"You had a dream about her?"

"No!" he shouted. Then, more quietly, "No. It wasn't a dream -- I was awake. She came into my room, and -- and she said that I was hers, and she threatened to kill all of you."

"I thought she was going to be in ... what did you call it -- processing? -- for the next few centuries," Delia said. "How did she get out so quickly?"

"She said she knows 'a few tricks'," Beej replied.

"And you're sure it wasn't a dream?"

Beej shook his head. "It wasn't a dream -- I was wide awake, hadn't fallen asleep yet." He looked at her. "You believe me, right?"

Delia gathered him in her arms. "Of course I do, Beej," she told him. "Of course I believe you."

*****

Beej stayed close to Delia for the rest of the day, following her around like a puppy. She found it a bit unnerving, but she couldn't blame him -- Juno, ultimately, was the reason he was the way he was.

So she let him help as she went about her day.

"Wanna help me bake bread?" Barbara had recently taught her, and she was eager to pass on her new knowledge.

"Sure, okay!"

She showed him how to measure out the ingredients, and let him mix them together in the bowl -- he took extra care not to spill anything. Then she sprinkled flour over the counter and tipped out the dough. Beej reached out a hand and she gently slapped it away.

"I just want a taste!" he protested, rubbing his hand.

"It's not ready yet," she said. "First we have to knead it --"

"I need it, all right? Now let me taste it!"

Delia laughed -- Beej didn't know what the joke was, but her laughter always made him feel good.

"This is how you knead dough," she said, putting the heels of both hands on the mass and pushing forward. She gave it a quarter-turn and repeated the motion. "Now you try."

Beej did as he was shown. Delia took a moment to wipe out the bowl and rub the interior with oil.

"That's great!" Delia said. "Do it a few more times, and then we'll put it back in the bowl to rest and proof."

"You can see me doing it -- what more proof do you need?" he grumbled.

Delia snorted another laugh. "Okay, that's good. Now, back in the bowl so it can rise." She covered the bowl with plastic wrap.

"I can make it rise," Beej said, raising his hands. The bowl of dough trembled and lifted off the table.

Delia grabbed it before it got too high to reach, and set it back down. "It needs to double in size," she explained.

"How long does that take?"

"A couple of hours," she told him, wiping the counter.

"A couple of hours??? " Beej blew out his cheeks in a loud sigh. "Then what?"

"Then we punch it down, put it in some loaf pans, let it rise again and bake it."

His eyes crossed comically. "Seems like a lot of work for bread."

"In the meantime, we can do something else." She thought for a moment. "How about a session? We can do some art therapy, if you want."

Beej nodded. "I like art therapy."

*****

"Now do we get to eat it?" Beej asked when the loaves came out of the oven.

Delia shook her head. "Not yet -- they need to cool down first."

"Ah, come on! You're killing me here!" He breathed in the aroma. "They smell so good." He reached out, but Delia slapped his hand away. He frowned, but said, "Okay, okay -- I'll wait. But it better be worth it!"

*****

That night, Juno came again.

"Are you ready to come back home?" she asked.

"I am home," Beej said, his voice nearly a whisper. "This is my home, and these people are my family -- not you!"

Juno sneered. "I'm the only family you'll ever have, boy. You might've killed me, but I'm back now -- and you're never gonna be rid of me!"

"I killed you once," Beej said. "I can do it again."

Juno nodded thoughtfully. "You could," she acknowledged, "but what would be the point? We both know there's only one way to get rid of me for good -- and if you do it, you'll die, too."

"Get outta here, you ... you dried up old hag!" Beej croaked.

Juno laughed, a cackle that would've chilled the wickedest witch to the bone.

"I am a dried up old hag -- I'm the original dried up old hag!" She said. "But make no mistake -- I'm stronger than you, and I always will be."

*****

"She came again last night," Beej said. "She's not gonna leave me alone."

"Is there anything that'll put a stop to her?" Delia asked. "Anything at all?"

Beej nodded morosely. "There's one thing," he said. "A spell in The Handbook for the Recently Deceased. It's called 'Hands Vermilion'. It's a summoning spell, but only if you know what part to leave out -- if you say the whole thing, it's an exorcism spell. Death for the undead."

"So what's the problem?"

"I need to be there to keep her from killing whoever tries to use the spell," he told her, "but if I'm there ..."

"You die, too," Delia finished.

Beej nodded again. He was almost in tears.

"If we can figure out a way to do it, would you be willing?"

"Yeah, sure!" the demon replied. "I want her outta my life for good! But there's just no way -- I've tried to think of how we can use it on her without me dying, too, but ..." He shrugged. "If I have to sacrifice myself to save you guys --"

Delia held up her hand. "No," she said firmly. "You're not sacrificing yourself."

"But --"

"Let me try to come up with a way." She levelled her gaze at him. "I'm not as dumb as people think I am, you know -- I'll think of something." She smiled at him. "In the meantime, how about I show you how to bake a cake?"

*****

"Think, Dee -- how can you use a spell against one demon without hurting the other?" Delia said aloud. She was sitting in the lotus position on a yoga mat in her studio, trying her best to centre herself and find a solution to what was beginning to seem like an unsolvable riddle.

"There's got to be a way!" she insisted. "Positive thinking -- I will figure this out, for Beej's sake." She straightened her posture, rolled her shoulders and then her neck. "Ommmmmm ..."

Hey, Delia," Lydia said, popping her head in the open doorway. "Umm ... I heard what you were saying."

"Oh, Lydia -- it's Beej," Delia told her. "Juno is back, and she's been --"

Lydia nodded. "I know," she said. "He told me. And he told me about 'Hands Vermilion', too -- that we could use it to get rid of her once and for all."

"The only problem is that Beej has to be there to protect whoever is using the spell, but --"

"But if he's there, it kills him, too."

"Exactly," Delia said despondently.

Lydia tilted her head. "I might have an answer," she said.

"Tell me, please! I'm desperate! "

"It's a spell, so it's spoken, right?"

"Riiight ..."

"So it works by being heard."

"Okaaay ..."

"So all you have to do is find a way to stop Beej from hearing the spell."

"Because if he can't hear it, it can't affect him!" Delia sprung to her feet and hugged Lydia. "Of course! Lydia, you're a genius! "

*****

"What's this?" Beej asked, looking at the small plastic egg Delia had given him.

"Open it," she said. He did, and pulled out a wad of pinkish gray stuff. "It's called Silly Putty," she explained. "We can use it to protect you from the spell."

Beej looked at it dubiously. He sniffed it, gave it a lick. "How?"

"You take a bit of it and stuff it in your ears," she told him. "You won't be able to hear the spell, so it won't affect you."

Beej's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to put this in my ears??? " He sniffed at the putty again. "You're kidding, right?"

"BJ, you put waaay more disgusting stuff in your ears -- and every other orifice -- all the time!" She sighed. "Let's just try it, okay? See if it works."

He pulled off a piece of the putty and stuffed in in one ear, then did the same with the other.

"Can you hear me?" Delia asked.

"What?"

Delia nodded, and began to sing:

I feel pretty

Oh so pretty

I feel pretty, and witty, and bright

And I pity

Any demon who visits tonight!

Beej grinned. "I can't hear anything!" he shouted gleefully. He threw his arms around Delia and spun her around. "This is great -- I'll finally be rid of her forever!"

*****

That evening, Delia headed upstairs to the attic. Beej was alone -- as agreed, Adam and Barbara had gone elsewhere.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Beej swallowed hard. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied. "If this stuff doesn't work --"

"It will," she reassured him.

"But if it doesn't -- promise me ... promise me that you won't forget me?"

"I could never forget you -- you're my son, Beej." She wiped away his tears. "No one in this house could ever forget you." She kissed his cheek. "But this will work -- just be brave, and Juno will be gone forever, and nobody'll ever try to take you from us again."

Beej nodded and managed a smile.

"Ready?" Delia asked again.

"Ready." He got into bed, and Delia turned off the light, plunging the attic into darkness.

"How long does it usually take for --"

Delia's question was interrupted by the sound of Juno's arrival -- the thump-slide, thump-slide of her prosthetic leg dragging across the floorboards.

Delia flattened herself against the wall, praying that the she-demon wouldn't notice her.

Juno approached Beej's bed. "I'm baaaack! " she sang. "Wakey wakey!"

Beej leapt out of the bed. "I'm already awake," he told her.

She startled. "You trying to give me a heart attack? You should be ashamed of yourself, scaring your poor old mother like that."

"Your heart is in a jar in Bavaria, isn't it?"

"That's not the point." The lit end of her cigarette traced red circles in the darkness as she waved her hand dismissively, and then glowed brightly she took a long drag on it. Smoke blew from her throat as she exhaled.

Delia wrinkled her nose at the smell of the cigarette -- God, that stinks, she thought. It's worse than a cheap cigar.

"Come here and give Mama a hug," Juno said.

Beej didn't move -- he just glared at her, and Delia saw that his eyes were glowing red.

"What's the matter? Aren't you happy to see your mother?"

"You're not my mom," Beej told her.

"Don't be silly -- who else would I be?"

"YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!!!" Beej roared. "You're just the ... the fucking whore that got pregnant with me 'cause she couldn't keep her fucking panties on! No better than a ... a dog in heat! You don't get to call yourself my mother!"

The she-demon's demeanor shifted immediately. "Now you listen to me, you ungrateful little shit! I lost everything because of you! I can't shapeshift any more -- because I had you! I'm stuck looking like this, and it's all your fault!" Juno snarled. "Don't you ever talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you any fuckin' way I want!" he told her. "And yeah -- I am ungrateful! Why should I be grateful? You never gave a damn about me!"

Juno's eyes blazed with fury for a moment, but then her expression softened -- once more the loving mother. She smiled at Beej. "I always gave a damn -- but growing up in the Netherworld is hard on a young boy. I had to make sure you were tough enough to survive. I had to be cruel to be kind. But I do love you, son."

Beej swallowed the lump that had come into his throat. "Really?" His face screwed up as he fought the tears that were threatening to fall. "You ... you really love me?"

Juno nodded. "I really do," she told him. "These people aren't your family -- not really. To them you're just a pet, a guard dog -- eventually they'll get tired of having you around and they'll kick you to the curb. Trust me on this -- I know breathers."

She reached up to touch his cheek, but stopped when she saw the look of contempt in his eyes. "Beej? What's wrong, son?"

"You went too hard on the sell," he replied. "You know breathers? How the fuck would you know breathers? You've never been one, you've never spent any time with them. 'I know breathers' -- what a laugh! The only reason you're trying to get me back is 'cause you can't stand the thought of someone else taking what you threw away!"

"They don't have the right to take what's mine!"

"I'M NOT YOURS! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO KICKED ME TO THE CURB! NOT THEM! THEY TOOK ME IN WHEN I HAD NO PLACE ELSE TO GO! THEY'RE TEACHING ME HOW TO FIT IN IN THEIR WORLD!"

"They're domesticating you! They're trying to neuter you, de-fang and de-claw you, and then they'll have you doing tricks like a circus monkey! Can't you see that?"

"I DON'T CARE!" Beej roared. "IF THAT'S THE PRICE OF BEING PART OF A REAL FAMILY --"

Delia interrupted him. "No, we're not!" she told Juno. "No one wants to change Beej! He doesn't have to stop being who he is to fit in! We love him just the way he is!"

"Speak when you're spoken to, bitch," Juno hissed, "or you'll get your tongue ripped out!"

At that, a tentacle shot out from Beej's back and coiled itself around Juno's neck, crushing her windpipe. "Don't threaten my family," he said in a low voice as she clawed at the appendage, raking it with her talons. Another tentacle appeared and reached into Juno's mouth, wrapping around the base of her tongue. She gagged, her eyes wide. Suddenly there was a loud, wet, ripping sound. The tentacle retracted, Juno's tongue still in its grip.

Blood poured from the demon bitch's mouth. Beej hauled her close, more tentacles reaching out to immobilise her. "You think I'm weak," he said. "You think I'm still that pathetic little kid that everyone used to bully and kick around. Well, you know what? Your plan to toughen me up worked!"

He took the plastic Silly Putty egg from his jacket pocket, opened it and stuffed some into his ears. He looked at Delia and nodded, and she screamed as loud as she could -- one final test. Beej grinned and gave her a thumb's-up.

"Now you're finally gonna get what's coming to you -- death for the undead!"

He snapped his fingers, and Delia opened the book she was holding -- The Handbook for the Recently Deceased. Turning to page 42, she read the invocation in a loud voice:

Hands vermilion,

Start of five.

Bright cotillion,

Ravens dive.

Nightshade's promise,

Spirits strive.

To the living, let now the dead

Come alive!

As sudden thunder pierces night,

As magic wonder mad affright,

Rise asunder, man's delight.

Our ghost, our corpse,

And we rise to be.

As flies the lizard

Serpent fell,

As goblin gizzard at the spell,

The buried, dead and slain

Rise again!

Juno, still in the grip of Beej's tentacles, began to shake convulsively. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Flames began to lick at her feet, quickly travelling up her body.

Beej released her, and stepped back quickly -- he didn't want to be caught in the conflagration. He watched, grinning, as his mother was consumed by the fire, his arms around Delia, who had clapped her hands to her ears in an attempt to shut out the sound -- Juno might no longer have had a tongue, but she was still screaming.

The she-demon's beehive hairdo caught fire, burning fiercely, her face melting as though she was made of wax. Delia's stomach did a somersault, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the horrific sight.

"Bye, Mom!" Beej said, waving happily.

Juno's head exploded then, and Beej shielded Delia from the shards of skull and wet gobs of brain matter that flew in all directions.

It was finally over.

Beej released Delia, and she said, "Is she gone for good?"

He shook his head, confused. "What? I can't hear you."

Delia grinned. "Take the Silly Putty out of your ears, goofball!"

"I still can't hear you," Beej told her.

Delia pointed at her own ears.

Beej looked even more confused for a moment, and then it dawned on him. He unplugged his ears.

"I couldn't hear you," he said. "I had Silly Putty in my ears."

Delia hugged him. "Is she gone for good?" she asked again.

Beej nodded. "Death for the undead -- there's no coming back from that. She's been eradicated, annihilated, wiped out of existence. Not even a grave for me to spit on." He sighed. "Too bad -- I really wanted to spit on her grave."

He hugged her again, tightly. "You did great, Mom! I'm so proud of you!"

"I -- can't -- breathe!" she gasped.

"What? Oh, sorry!" Beej said, releasing her.

She punched playfully him in the arm.

"Ow!" he said, grinning as he rubbed his bicep. "That hurt!"

"Come on, you big wimp," Delia said, "let's get back downstairs -- we can have some chocolate cake and ice cream to celebrate."

#beetlejuice #bjtmtmtm #bjtm #beetlejuice the broadway musical #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice fanfic #fanfiction #juno #delia deetz #mommy dearest #bjfinn writing

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prosedd · 4 months

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This came into my head randomly at 3am and I had to get it out. Not proofread. :).

Satare - ( sah-tar-eh)

Rhylan - (rai-lan)

Viëla - (Vai-ay-la) (sister)

Satare clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white against the dark wood of the dining chair. Across from her, rhylans eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and frustration, his face marred with a frown. He observed her Intensly, and her sudden refusal to speak. His frown deepened and apparently having had enough, rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Well? On with it, I am busy today saëling. I have a coronation to prepare for and those things don’t prepare themselves you know.” He chuckled, mirth dancing in his eyes.

"Oh yes, the coronation that’s only happening because you murdered our father!” Satare spat, enunciating her words by harshly banging her fists onto the chair. "I can’t belive you would be willing to go so far-“

Two strong hands roughly grabbed her shoulders and held on tightly, and Satare fought hard to shrug them off. Rhylans grip remained strong, so Satare took to punching at his chest and screaming into his face, months of pent up anger bursting out in screams and cries.

“I can’t believe you could ever take a sword against our own mother, who birthed you, raised you and loved you! Did you ever consider me! Did you even think about me! You took my mother, you took my father, you took him and I hate you! I hate you!”

Rhylan took a deep breath, as if willing himself to stay calm. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across his face, his eyes impassive and foreboding. One hand snapped up to cover Satares mouth and his eyes darkened, black manic energy seeping into his eyes. Satare silenced immediately upon seeing them, and her eyes widened in slight fear. His quiet voice cut through the silence, “You should be careful with your words, my little Vaiëla. I understand your grieving after such a…tragic loss, but to insult your own blood like this, why, some may think you’ve gone a little crazy. After all, everyone saw the assassin who murdered our parents that night. Was it not I who tried to save them valiantly, putting myself right in front of the assassin? Who could ever belive such an outrageous lie-when all have seen the kings son nearly give his life for his father?”

His hand reached towards his neck, where an anger red mark lay slashed from his ear to the centre of the neck. “How could you accuse me of such an evil sin?” He gave a quick smirk, and before Satare could reply, outraged at her brothers words, he let her shoulders go and started to gently rubbed up and down her arm, as if to soothe her. “You poor little thing, the shock of our parents death has clearly confused you so sister. Perhaps a little time confined to your room shall help with the hysteria you seem to have gained. A chance to truly reflect and understand what has happened. Perhaps if this hysteria continues we may have to send you far away, mayhaps to Crozart, so that some isolation may help you gain some clarity and understanding. I would hate the stress of the court to burden you, especially when they find out how much you’re struggling to cope.”

Satare’s face twisted in a bitter smile. "You’re threatening me."

“No my dear, I am helping you.”

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t-you can’t control me like this-stop rhylan stop it right now you can’t-.” Rhylan scoffed and let out a small, bitter laugh.

“Really, what will they believe sister? No matter how much you scream, no one will listen to you.” He raised a hand quickly at her opening mouth, “No, even if they knew it was me, would they truly hold me accountable? I, Rhylan prince of the 8 Cresent Seas, the only one to be born with the white dragons breath, the wisp of morzat, the power of the dark manic? No my dear sister, I an far too powerful to pass up. They will not turn against me, and you know it too.”

The air between them crackled with tension. Satare slowly lowered her head and Rhyland gently pushed it into his chest. “I know you resent me vaiëla, but I have done this for the greater good. The kingdom will be better off for it. I am going to succeed where father failed- I will make Aquilon great. The world will fear our kingdom, fear me. We will never again be at the mercy of another. I will show them how great we are. Oh how great we will be!”

Satare shoved against him, eyes ablaze. “I no will not forgive this sin brother. You will never have my support. I will not misuse my powers to feed your greed. Expect no help from me!”

Rhyland moved away from her, and sighed. He shook his head at her, looking down on her as if she were a foolish little girl throwing a tantrum. “‘Mother and father truly spoiled you. You have no choice- you are my little sister. You will do as I say.” He clicked his fingers and aimed them straight at her and Satare gasped and immediately hunched over, falling to the floor, her gown crumpling with her. “You forget we are blood siblings my dear. I only need to channel your power into me. Don’t worry, I won’t take it all, it’s entertaining when you fight me like you think you actually have a chance against me. I like it. Sleep now sister, and when you awake, I expect full support in preparation for my coronation. If not…well, Crozart is very warm this time of the year.” Those were the last words she heard before all strength left her body and the world went dark.

#antagonist #oc #fantasy #x reader #female protagonist #short story #storytelling #original story #writing #dark fantasy #magic #villain #hero #yandere

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scarletk537 · 1 year

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The next day, James is standing near the balcony while drinking a cup of beer, looking at the views below from above. He couldn't help but thinking about what happened last night. Aside from the unwanted 'scene' from a dirty film, he can't stop thinking about it. Not the sexual acts scene (he tries not to throw up), but Sereena... she's in that film.

Why was she in that film? If she was really a former porn star, then why she looks as if she was in fear and pain? Her eyes stared into his behind the screen like she was actually suffering in agony. Not part of the act at all. Her expression was so... real.

Letting out a sigh, he withdraw himself from the balcony and sat on the couch, still holding his cup of beer. As he drank a bit of beer, he looks up at the clock ticking on the wall.

It was 2.35 in the afternoon. His eyes later turned to the CD case beside the TV on the table. He promised himself to see the dealer who gave him the CD and probably, have the answers from the dealer about the origins of the film, the Sanchez ponce, and even... Sereena herself.

'I shall wait 'till it's dark to see him.'

As time passes, it was evening, and the sky is getting darker with the sun finally setting and the moon is about to appeared. At the train station above the stairs, the dealer was smoking a cigarette when he spotted James walking by.

"Hey hey, it's the Englishman!" the dealer smiled. James heard a familiar voice and spotted the same dealer from earlier. "You sound so pleased," James said to the dealer as he walked up the stairs. "Well, an Englishman is searching for the Reaper Man, huh? He's quite a celebrity, don'tcha think, holmes?" the dealer asks him. "Speaking of which, did you like the movie I gave it to you? It really shock ya good, eh?"

"I hate it, very much," James admittedly said with a thin smile and a hint of disgust. "But you're right, it really did give me a shock."

"Bet you got an erection watching it, eh?" the dealer teased. "Well I prefer to straight up kickin your bloody head in if you don't shut up," James warned, still smiling but with an annoying expression. "I almost throwing up because of it." The dealer, noticed behind the smile shows how pissed James was, putting his hand up in defense. "Woah woah, chill señor, I was just teasing. No need to get tense on me, alright?"

"What's your name, sir?" James asked the dealer. "My friends called me Gringo," the dealer, Gringo replied. "Gringo? Is that term you called for non-Hispanic people?" James asks Gringo. "Well I do like hanging out with non-Hispanics, so, hehe," Gringo said sheepishly.

"Mr Gringo-" "Call me Gringo, señor," Gringo said to James. "You're cool." "Well then, call me... James," James said. The dealer and the British man had begun their unusual conversations.

"So, Gringo," James began as he takes out the CD case from his pocket. "You said your amígo gave you this CD for you to watch, right?"

"Si James, he did," Gringo replied. "Did he explained to you what does it contained?" James asked. "Yeah, he did. Yet, he told me that he watched the movie for quite a lot. You can say he, too, like watching this stuff, huh?"

James sighs while rolling his eyes but tries not to complain. "I remember you told me that prior to this CD, this movie was copied in lots of VHS tapes, right?" "Yeah, hundreds of them, I think, had the tapes sorted in boxes," Gringo replied. "So how did this movie ended up in a CD when all the tapes, well probably most of them, were destroyed in the first place?" James inquired.

Gringo stood silent for a moment and James raises his eyebrow, waiting for an answer. "Well?"

"Can I trust you with this one?" Gringo suddenly asked. "Vice versa, mate," James said with shrug. Wonder why the dealer got so suspicious all the sudden? Gringo suspiciously looked around and leans to James, whispering, "One of my amigos was a Diablo. He kept the last surviving tape and rerecorded it into the CD, before destroy that said tape."

"He knew that the Reaper Man would destroy all the tapes containing that girl, Sereena Lane, whenever they are," Gringo explained. "The Reaper Man destroys the tapes?" James asked. So Claude destroys the VHS tapes. "Si James. When mi amigo found out that the tapes were destroyed, except one, he would have to transfer the film into the CD," Gringo answered.

"I see," James said, nodding in understanding before asking. "Tell me about Romano Sanchez. What his affiliation with Sereena Lane and your friend's leader, El Burro?"

"Romano Sanchez was a porn star actor, or so it seems. Haven't seen his movies yet, except this one," Gringo replied. "He collaborated with El Burro and starts filming with lots of girls, including this Lane girl."

"Was Sereena a porn actress back then?" James asked. "What are you, a cop?" Gringo asked, looking a slightly appalled of James's interest in Sereena's situation surrounding the movie. "Was she was forced into becoming a porn actress?" James asks again, this time saying 'force' with a sharp tone. "Si, señor, she was forced to," Gringo admitted with a sigh. "The truth is, she and Sanchez had a history way back."

"History, huh?" James said in curiosity, closing his eyes while he ponders. It looks like piece of the puzzle of mysteries.

"Whatcha thinking, holmes?" Gringo asked. James opened his eyes and asks "How much you knew about the Sanchez guy?" "The boss of my friend told him about Sanchez and their meetings with him," Gringo explained. "And then my friend told me about Sanchez when he gave me that CD. So I probably knew about him, more or less."

"What was the history between Sereena Lane and Romano Sanchez?" James inquired. "Man, you're really kinda into this stuff, eh?" Gringo teasingly said. "Just answer the bleedin' question or I'll make ya spill it," James slightly retorted. "Okay okay, sorry. It happened around 1989, I think, and it starts somewhere in Doherty." Gringo began. "It all happened because of the mother."

"The mother?"

"Yeah, Sereena Lane and her mother, Tamara, moved from Ganton to Doherty, where Tamara met Romano Sanchez. You could say it was a love at first sight."

Love at first sight? The hell? "Why?"

"Because Tamara was a sex worker back then. She was naturally attracted to men like Sanchez," Gringo said with a grin, making James very uncomfortable. "Oh, I see. Anyway, what was Sereena's impression on Romano?"

"Well, after Tamara met Sanchez, from what I heard, Sereena couldn’t shake off her discomfort since Romano moved in with them. He would always remark just how she looked so much like Tamara, though in her younger years, and these comments would be accompanied by menacing glares and stuff." Gringo continued.

"My friend told me that the way Romano’s eyes trained on her, especially when she was alone, would send shivers down her spine. She tried to avoid him whenever she could, but because of her mother, she was forced to engage with him, though she would try to make it minimal as possible, but it might have gotten to the extreme as it goes by, if you know what I mean, getting all hyper aroused and dominance, and such."

The words starts running in James's head like gears as he tried to put the words together, before he realised what Gringo meant. "What you mean, is that Romano starts sexually abuse Sereena, right?" James slowly said. "Guess you could say that," Gringo said.

"How old Sereena was at that time?"

"Seventeen years old."

"Seventeen? She's not yet an adult till she was in her 20s."

"Well Romano is a sex-crazed, perverted psycho. He tore every girls' clothes and consumed every girls' virginity. He couldn't careless about the girls' ages at all, and Sereena, she got it worse, and all she could do was sob and beg him to stop but to no avail. For every forbidden hole and space he found, he would insert his throbbing organ and rub until he reached his pleasure, only to do it again by bending her over everywhere in the room. How she wailed and pleaded as he-"

"Alright alright, stop it!" James snapped as he immediately covers Gringo's mouth to shut him up. This is getting too much for James. "I get it, just don't get into that deep, alright?" He later removed his hand from Gringo's mouth. "Hehe, sorry holmes, got a little carry away," Gringo chuckled. "I like screaming aroused girls, it really turned me on, ya know?" James lets out an annoying and disgust groan. This dealer is a complete sex addict, or so he thought.

"Let me freshen up a bit, so, what you're saying is that Romano Sanchez sexually abuse Sereena, raped her when she was seventeen, and later he works on a movie with El Burro guy and added Sereena in that sex film and... start raping..." James trailed off, as he felt discomfort building up. "That seems like it," Gringo said with a shrug.

"And that bitch of a mother just let it happened?!" James suddenly yelled, startling Gringo. "Woah chill, holmes! You look upset." "What do you think, huh?" James asks Gringo, glaring at him. "Why can't Sereena just call the rozzers, the police that is, and had them both her disgusting mother and Sanchez arrested and sentenced them to life in prison, or better, death?!"

"Dang, holmes, you really need to chill the hell up," Gringo told him. James listened to him and lets out a sigh. "Sorry, I get a little tense. I hate women treated as sex slaves. I respected women in general, though I had... exceptions, but I'm not misogynist." "It's alright, holmes," Gringo said. "To answer that question, the Lane girl did went to the police station to file the case, but unfortunately, neither Tamara nor Romano were arrested and sent to jail."

"What? Why?"

"One possibly known excuse was that Sereena loved her mother, despite Tamara's past as a whore and shits, and she didn't want her mother to be sent away to jail, because it was out of respect for her mother or something and, fearing that their relationship might be strained again if she spoke of what she felt about Romano, she kept her mouth shut. So yeah. That's what happened."

"Guess that choice proved to be the wrongest thing she had ever done," James lamented. "She could have just leave that bitch of a mother and cuts her off completely. Her mother is no mother, she's a total, mouth-wrecking prat. Let it strained further till' it's gone. There's no excuse to love someone like that." Gringo nodded in agreement. "You could say that again."

"What happened to Tamara and Romano afterwards?" James inquired. "Well, Tamara died in Doherty and, apparently Romano got killed by the Reaper Man," Gringo answered. The reply got James's eyes lit up. "He was killed?"

"Si, the Reaper Man just decapitate Sanchez for what he did to Sereena. Pretty grusome if you ask me." Gringo replied.

James couldn't help but smirk. Guess that prat Sanchez deserved it. "You seem happy," Gringo said, noticing the smirk. "Well, Sanchez deserved to die though," James replied. "What about El Burro?" "He was killed too, but not by the Reaper Man," Gringo said.

"Who killed him then?" James asked. "By the Harwood Butcher, Tommy Vercetti," Gringo said. "Now that I mentioned, he probably destroy more VHS tapes in Vice City." The Harwood Butcher, that Italian mob bastard he had encountered earlier, killed the Diablo leader, and destroy more surviving tapes as well. Guess he does spare Claude some slacks, eh?

"I see. Anything else I should know about, Gringo?"

"Do you know an Italian mafia boss by the name of Salvatore Leone?" Gringo asked James. James raises his eyebrow of the name. Salvatore Leone, that name rings a bell.

"Not much, I heard he was killed years ago. Why do you ask?"

"Salvatore Leone, the late Don of the Leone crime family, was in fact the father of Sereena Lane, but he was already married, twice, and once widowed, and have a son named Joey Leone," Gringo pointed out. "What?" James said in a confused shock. "Yeah, my friend told me that Salvatore is having an affair with Tamara, behind his late first wife's back years ago, but when she got pregnant with Sereena, Salvatore told Tamara to get rid of it, but she didn't and-"

"And because of that, once Sereena was born and the whole story from the sexual abuse by Sanchez and ended up in dirty film and shits and later, she began searching for her real father, which is Salvatore, right?" James added. "You sum it up quick," Gringo said.

"Sort of," James admitted with a shrug. So, Sereena Lane was a bastard child of Salvatore Leone. How interesting. But something was odd.

"How did the Reaper Man and the Harwood Butcher knew the existence of those tapes?"

"When the Diablos found out that Sereena arrived in Liberty City in search of her birth father, they start sending out those boxes containing the tapes and apparently, was watched by many people who found the tapes, from Liberty to Vice City, and probably San Andreas I dunno. Because of that, people viewed Sereena as, well, not as a pure angel as it seems, well some of them. Too much holes were penetrated."

"So, the Diablos were attempting to blackmail Sereena. Why? Because of her 'involvement' with Sanchez and El Burro?"

"Close, but to me, they want to get Sereena back, I think."

"I see," James said. "Where are the Leones now anyway?" "They're probably still in Liberty City, the don is Salvatore Leone's legitimate son, Joey," Gringo replied affirmatively. "Or perhaps moved here to San Andreas, I can't say. Why?"

"Nothing, just asking," James said with a shrug. "Well, thank you for telling me about this content of the CD and its... 'surprising' stories behind it. For a dealer like you, you really hear and see a lot of stuff around."

"No prob, holmes," Gringo said. "That's my thing. By the way, aren't you gonna throw it away? It really makes you sick."

"The CD? Well, I want to, but thanks to it, and you, I know its history right here. So, I have something else in mind to do with this," James replied as he stuffed the CD back in his pocket. "Besides, I already paid for it. But I don't mean, wanna watching it again, mind you."

The two later said goodbyes to each other and as James is about to depart, Gringo suddenly asked, "Why you want to see the Reaper Man for? Do you have a history with him?"

James turned to Gringo and smiled. "I do, but my history with him, is a lot different." And with that response, James walked away, leaving behind Gringo, who is now curious as he watches the British man gone.

_______________________________________

Two screenshots in one fic, I dunno which one's tiring. This is what a dealer looks like and yes, I named him Gringo because, well, the Cartels called Claude 'gringo' while he was being attacked and chased by the Cartels. Really annoying bastards... 😅

I added some sentences from another chapter of ashmirkier's Reaper Man fanfics, which is the flashback part, and I probably made some mistakes on how the hell did the VHS tapes get to Sereena in the first place. I'm too lazy to read it again to fix this fic, but worth it 😅

#grand theft auto #ashmirkier #fanfiction #gta the legend unbound #james may #gringo the dealer #gta the holy trilogy

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thelongestway · 10 hours

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FFXIV Write 2024, Prompt 23: On Cloud Nine

I slid into The Forgotten Knight's shadows with a familiar feeling of relief. Its inn, Cloud Nine, was my home away from home in Ishgard - house Fortemps may have adopted me, but I'd always needed to haunt at least one space of my own, to have a place to wake without ceremony or servants. And this tavern, with its shadowy corners and rough beds? Was perfect.

Having friends here made it all the better. Alisaie trailed me as I said my greetings - Rielle, Sigurdu, Haimirch, and finally Bamponcet.

"The usual room?" The barkeep asked.

"Aye. We won't be long. Work to do."

Perhaps Bamponcet would have made a wildly inappropriate joke, as was the coin of the realm in this tavern, but Alisaie's scowl and the distinct red glow of her rapier shut him up quick. Instead, he looked from her to Rielle - who looked like she would summon a proper balisarde from the sheer darkness if he gave her cause - and merely smirked.

"Give me fifteen. Need to clear out the bottles from the last visitors."

"So long as it's not an utter pigsty, I'm happy," I grinned back, and looked over to Alisaie. "Good thing, really. I've been wanting to introduce you to Rielle for a while. Shame Alphinaud isn't with us."

As we approached, Sigurdu eyed us with his customary dark humor, and then said to me:

"We both have a habit of picking up strays, eh?"

To her credit, Alisaie didn't skewer him immediately. Instead, she looked to Rielle and smiled a courtly smile.

'I'll assume tall, dark and suffering here is your ward. I'm Alisaie Levellieur, and it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Rielle de Caulignont." The smile she returned was an appropriately icy Ishgardian noble's. "Conjurer, and knight in training. So yes, my ward. And the pleasure is entirely mine."

Sigurdu sputtered. I folded my hands, and wished that I had some sort of repast for the pleasure of watching this unfold. Alone, Rielle and her very logical arguments had been all too easy to ignore. But as anyone who'd spent any time with Elezen knew, the moment there were two cunning youths with complementing skills in one place... Well, Sigurdu never stood a chance.

He valiantly tried anyway.

"Now wait just a-"

"Please," Alisaie gave him a withering glare. "I can see the age-old argument arising as you think it. There is an old Ishgardian maxim my father has always been very fond of: if the shield breaks, it is the crook's fault. So, you are her ward. At least until lady de Caulignont earns her blade and finds herself a new crook."

"Rielle will do." Of course, using a name soured by Ystride de Caulignont had to have stung. But it was well that the wound had healed enough Rielle could use it at least in passing.

"RIelle," Alisaie smiled warmly. "I realize we've known each other for mere seconds, but I would happily impose on you at your leisure if you were open to the idea? My brother and I have long been lacking a third for practice. I'm a sword and he's a crook, you see..."

"...I would be delighted to be your shield. Shall we compare schedules?"

After that utter failure of an assault, Sigurdu turned to me and gestured at the two young women, by now fully embroiled in planning.

"What."

"What?"

"Why in the hells are you..."

"I am doing nothing." I interrupted. "I hadn't even warned Alisaie about you two. They hit it off entirely on their own, within moments. Looks like an excellent start to me."

"If your wards needed practice, you would have fully sufficed!"

"You know how the rest of that proverb goes? Swords die, it's their own Twelves-damned fault. And I have always been a sword at heart." Sigurdu gave me a very skeptical look, and I shrugged. "You know well enough my greatsword comes out only for very specific occasions. I don't live in that part of the shadow."

"You," he said with feeling. "Are a lazy bastard."

I tapped my new staff's dark gem.

"Comes with the territory. Besides, Sigurdu. I've got news that concerns you and time to kill."

"And you owe me a bloody drink."

#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #my wol #wol snippets #another meeting I'd wanted to write for literal years #the awe inspiring terrific and terrible noble elezen kids adventuring team #add taynor and they've got a light party!#also cheeky mmo maxims!#the wol in question here favors blm but has a passing familiarity with most jobs #and some practice - with DRK and SCH #also realized I'd conflated the two parts of the establishment #corrected!

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xprojectrpg · 5 months

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Moment of Awesome - Topaz:Following the events of Behold A Pale Horse, Topaz and Marius Laverne... talk.

Topaz looked him over for a moment, expression unreadable as she tried to decide if she wanted to be kind and leave him in his self-deprecation, or be an arsehole. She chose the latter.

"I'm pretty sure everyone thinks they're not worth saving, or worth the trouble they cause other people. But other people are still going to save you anyway because they think you're worth it for whatever reason, and your opinion on the subject doesn't actually matter. So whatever you think of yourself... you're probably the only one."

It was like having a glass of ice water tossed in his face, which had probably been the desired effect. Topaz appeared to be just as uncomfortable dealing with emotions as Marius was in expressing them. This might have seemed counterintuitive from an empath unless, like Marius, you had actually spoken to one for any length of time.

His chuckle was awkward but genuine. He couldn't fault the direct approach.

"Well. I am the only one who really knows me, eh? And you, too, I suppose." He folded his arms across his scarified chest and turned his amber eyes towards the tiles. "Be that as it may . . . less awkward for us both to pretend that's not so, I think."

"Sure," Topaz agreed easily. "As long as I don't think you're going to try something stupid at any given moment. I have no issues with passing the problem on to someone who cares more about your well being than they do about not having these types of conversations."

"Ah, then you're in luck, because Kyle has already appointed himself my chaperone in such matters. Though if the expulsion of his duties depends upon an assurance my judgement shall henceforth be sound and reasoned we may have a fundamental conflict of expectation." A thought occurred to him. Marius let his arms drop and thick brows knit.

"Why'd you come here, anyway?"

Topaz shrugged. "Like I said - I want to apologize for impaling you, and violating all your mental boundaries. It's a bit rude no matter what the situation calls for."

Marius looked this way and that, as if checking to see whether he'd missed something.

"Propriety? That's all?"

She leaned against the wall behind her now, still looking at Marius even if he wouldn't meet her gaze, and considered her answer for a moment. She knew far too much about what was in his head. It was only fair, she supposed.

"Magic and empathy are... psi powers in general are extremely morally grey just because they're so easy to abuse and use against people. When magic is used the wrong way, it can turn you into a monster. As far as I know, I'm the only person who uses both, together. I'm not self-centered enough to think I'm the only person in the entire world who's combined the two, but it's a lot less common than, say, traditional magic or earth magic or even chaos magic. Sometimes it feels like I'm making up the rules as I go. And if I'm the only one who knows the rules, I'm the only one who can police myself and make sure I don't cross a line. And part of that is making sure I never get too comfortable with the things I have to do, no matter how necessary they are. Stabbing you and invading your privacy to the deepest extent possible was necessary, but it's not something I ever want to repeat. And if I ever reach a point where I don't feel that way... then I know I have a problem."

Emotional acuity had never numbered among Marius' strengths. He had, in fact, often been told it was a borderline deficit. But something in Topaz's tone told him that this was not information she parted with easily, and that realisation was almost startling.

"Don't understand magic," Marius said, a little haltingly, "but lines you don't cross, that you hang onto, white-knuckled, even when the why stops making sense . . . especially when the why stops making sense, because the world is so often senseless . . . that I know." He curled the fingers of one hand, tracing a ring finger around the rima oris of one palm. "That I do know."

"I thought you might." Topaz's tone was just a little softer now, almost unnoticeable. "But that's all I wanted to say. Try not to be too stupid. There are people who would care if something happened to you."

#moment of awesome #topaz #xproject #x-project #rpg #rp

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bishop-percival · 1 year

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@stuckinuniformdevelopment

(prev) Once he was free Teddy studied the room. This was a mistake. He was in over his head. All it would take is a single word from Bishop Percival to end his life. After a moment he stood up and dug his robe out of the bag, then tossed it out of the circle as he stared at his new vestments. This felt like his last chance to turn back... even if he'd realized that he unknowingly made his final choice when he showed up last Slornday. Teddy donned it, then racked his mind for sins to confess while trying not to think about the sacrifice. "I can't say I have any regrets." Not that he was a paragon of virtue. Glorn no. Most of his unsavory deeds were repaying evil for evil, and there was nothing wrong with that. Otherwise he didn't do much besides work and read. ...What did Minnie see in a dull man like him again? Stability was the only thing that made sense after the chaos she got roped into. He glanced up and realized that he should say whatever came to mind. If he played it right he could make himself sound far worse than he really is. "I poisoned my coworker. I gaslight my supervisor on a regular basis. I perform unethical experiments on prisoners. Sometimes my brother too." ...Maybe he did have a real sin to confess. One that didn't require bending the truth or leaving out justifying details. "And..." Teddy clenched his fists. "I'm brainstorming the best way to break a sweet woman's heart."

@follwrshep

Shep eagerly leaned in, smile wide with glee. “Oh, truly great! We knew you would be a perfect fit, such cruelties! You’re doing very well so far, very very well!” Shep eagerly looked to Percy, as did all the rest in the group, silently awaiting the next step in the initiation.

Percy rubbed his chin. “Ehh… Pretty good, but kinda tame if you ask me. That’s ok, though, we can work on it. Maybe we could help you find the WORST way to break that gal’s heart, hah! Eh, or maybe it’s none of our business. Anyway you passed part one.” He began lightly clapping his hands. The other members followed suit, politely clapping, some nodding their heads with approval, others shrugging their shoulders.

“That brings us to Oath! This part’s fun. Repeating after us, you simply declare an oath of devotion to Glorn and His evil ways. Ready?”

In unison, the bishop and the circle of disciples clasped their hands together and bowed forward. “In darkness, a new vessel of malevolence is created.” As the group recited this, the fire of the candles throughout the room started to grow. “It shall spread chaos. It shall bring Glory to Glorn. It shall hydrate His power with blood and sin. PANDEMONIUM REGNAT, GLORNI VITAE.”

At the utterance of the last sentence, the candle fire burst into giant flames that illuminated the room and made it feel like an oven. Some of the flames singed the robes of some figures, which they quickly patted out. As suddenly as the flames swelled, they then shrunk down to normal, an indication that the oath was ready to be repeated.

#stuckinuniformdevelopment #follwrshep #long post #percival

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foreverinadais · 2 years

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sleepless: steven grant

Summary: Y/N can’t sleep... luckily, Steven knows how to calm her.

Word Count: 839 words

Pairing: Steven x fem! reader

Warning: None, just pure fluff :)

hi! i did a similar hc post which you can find here :) oh and i’m also reposting this, it was the first thing i wrote for Tumblr but wanted to edit some things, so yeah

She couldn’t sleep. Normally, she would be fine staying awake, lost in her thoughts until whenever Steven, Marc or Jake was up. But, she hadn’t been sleeping a lot lately. Too many of the wrong thoughts, the anxious kind that kept her brain whirring and stomach churning.

After the fifth time of tossing over, she gently turned over to face Steven. He looked so peaceful, so content. A mere glimpse of his face was enough to make her smile, her heart skipping a beat. But watching him made her feel even more overwhelmed. She could feel herself begin to get restless, this just adding to her nerves, her tiredness. Finally, she decided to just get up and do something until either she fell asleep, or morning came.

Slowly, she removed the duvet off her body, reaching her feet down to the floor, wincing at the slight creak of the bed. She didn’t want to wake up Steven, not with him sleeping so soundly. So, she tried to be quiet, eventually sitting up before making her way out of the bed. The transition went rather smoothly… until she lost her way in the dark and stubbed her toe on the nightstand.

“SHIT-” she practically shouted before quickly covering her mouth. But it was too late; Steven was up in a flash.

“BLOODY HELL WHAT HAPPENED?! Y/N/N?” She found the lamp in the dark and switched it on, looking at Steven’s face, illuminated with worry. She winced at the slight throb in her toe.

“I’m alright. Just stubbed my toe. I’m sorry I woke you, darling, I didn’t mean-”

“Shh it’s okay, come ‘ere, let me look.” She went to protest but he was already sitting her on the bed as he examined her injury.

“How does it look, doc?” she joked, and Steven mocked seriousness.

“Bad. Terrible. We shall have to cut it off.” She chuckled as Steven got back up unto the bed, gently caressing her cheek as he passed her. “I think it’s alright. Does it feel okay? Not broken or anything?”

“Feels fine. Thank you, Steven.” She offered him a smile to which he returned, before rubbing his eyes tiredly. Guilt filled her insides. “I’m so sorry for waking you up, I shouldn’t’ve been such a baby-”

“Nonononono, darling, ‘s okay! Why were you getting up, my love?” She stayed sat up, fiddling with her hands to avoid confrontation.

“I just…” she cut herself off with a sigh, shrugging.

Steven shuffled so he was sat in front of her, taking both her hands into his and gently caressing her palms with his thumbs. “You can talk to me, Y/N/N, you know that don’t you? Darling?” She nodded, feeling tears brim her eyes. Fuck don’t cry. She told herself, but he was so nice, and she felt so tired…

“I’m just overwhelmed. Everything is too much, and my head is swirling, and it never stops. And I just, I want to sleep but my brain doesn’t rest right now and ugh I’m sorry I don’t want to burden you with this, I didn’t mean to wake you, Steven-” she cut herself off again with a choked sob, all of it washing over her, and Steven didn’t hesitate when bringing her into his chest, stroking her back comfortingly.

“Oh my love. I had no idea, you don’t need to be sorry, honey. Shh, it’s okay, let it out, all of it, don’t want it to get bottled in that head of yours, eh? There you go.” His words carried her through the storm, and she gradually felt herself get settled, the grip she had on his top loosening slightly as her sobs subsided. “I’ll help you with whatever work I can, okay? All of us will. We can get through it one bit at a time. But right now, there’s nothing more you can do, not tonight, okay? You deserve rest, you need to rest. So let’s do that. That alright, my love?” She nodded, feeling comforted by his words.

Steven kissed the top of her head once, twice, before slowly lifting her head up with his hands. He swiped some of the tears away with his thumb before gently kissing her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, before finally, her lips. So softly, it made her dizzy, made her worries melt away. She smiled against his lips, and he noticed, pulling away grinning.

“There’s my girl. Shall we go to sleep, my darling?”

“Yes please.” She croaked out, and he smiled at her lovingly, shuffling around on the bed so that he was lying back under the duvet, before bringing her with him. She settled with her head against his, leg swung over his own, and her arm around his neck. She felt completely safe as he traced her skin with soft touches, whispering comforting affirmations to her as her eyes became heavy. “Thank you, Steven.” She whispered.

“Of course, my love.” He replied, placing a last kiss to the top of her head, “Always.”

#Steven Grant #steven with a v #steven grant x reader #stevengrant #fem!reader #moon knight fluff #fluff #ff #moon knight imagine #Moon Knight #moon knight fanfic

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thearvariblues · 4 years

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Sing Me a Song

“You Geralt of Rivia’s bard?”

Jaskier looks up from his notepad and grins at the man who’s just sat at the opposite side of the table.

“Technically, I used to be,” the bard says, taking a sip of his ale. “We had a tiny misunderstanding last year. I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, though, I’m just giving him some time to cool down and wallow in self-pity.”

Jaskier frowns, because his brain has finally caught up with his mouth and informs him that even though the man who asked the question is very pretty (and he is – a bit short, but lean and clearly very agile, brown-skinned, with dark, wavy hair and stunningly unnatural green eyes), he also has got two big, scary swords strapped to his back, way too many scars and has, in fact, only one green eye, the other being covered by an eye patch, presumably missing.

And then there’s the Cat school medallion on his chest.

As Geralt would say… fuck.

“Unless you’re here to kidnap me and torture me to lure him into a trap. If that’s the case, I’ve never met a Geralt of Rivia in my life. Also, if you harm a hair on my head, he will hunt you down and kill you, very slowly and painfully. Just a heads up,” Jaskier smiles, utterly failing to sound at least a little bit threatening.

“Thanks for the warning,” the Witcher laughs. “But I actually need you to write me a song.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid this bard already has a Witcher to praise,” Jaskier protests, shaking his head firmly.

“Ugh. Who says I want praise?” the man says, making a face. “I just can’t seem to find a friend of mine, so I need to make him find me.”

“With a song? Do I look like a fucking pied piper?” Jaskier smirks.

“A little, yeah.”

“Fair enough. What’s in it for me?”

“What do you think is going to happen once Geralt hears that his bard has found himself a new muse?” the Witcher grins.

“Oh,” Jaskier says, chuckling. “Oh, but that’s good.”

“Are you in, then?”

“Absolutely. And, uhm… What did you say your name was?”

“By the gods, where are my manners?” the Witcher laughs. “I’m Aiden.”

Geralt places two tankards of ale on the table and sits down with a grunt.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting old, Wolf,” his brother Lambert smirks and promptly pulls one of the tankards closer. “Because that almost sounded like Vesemir when he’s trying to get up from his chair.”

“You’re so fucking funny,” Geralt murmurs.

“I know, right?” Lambert grins, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind his ear. “So, how’s life on the Path without your beloved bard?”

“Not my bard.”

“So pretty fucking terrible, eh?” Lambert chuckles.

“Fuck off, Lambert.”

“You’re being very nice and friendly today, you know?”

“I bought you a drink. So shut up and… drink.”

Lambert shrugs and for once does what he’s told. Within a few seconds, half of the tankard’s content vanishes.

“If it’s any consolation, life without my Cat is also pretty fucking unbearable,” he says then.

“Hm.”

“Oh, really, Geralt? You’re using your famous hm against me? Me, your brother?!”

Geralt groans.

“By the gods… Why can’t I just run into Eskel for once? Why does it always have to be you?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Lucky. Yeah.”

Lambert rolls his eyes and focuses on his ale again – until the local bard grabs his lute and starts playing a slow, romantic ballad. Lambert growls.

“Fuck, I hate that song!”

“Why?” Geralt blinks, because he’s never heard the song before, and to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t really sound that bad.

“A brown-skinned woman with dark hair who’s seemingly killed, then comes back to life already plotting her revenge, only to find out that her lover’s already avenged her? Always reminds me of Aiden.”

“Aiden wasn’t exactly… A woman, was he?”

“He also hasn’t come back to life, as far as I know,” Lambert mutters.

“Who wrote it?” Geralt frowns, listening carefully. “It sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Some Master Dandelion. Never heard of him, but it seems he’s very popular now.”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh, not again!” Lambert groans.

“It just… It really does sound like Jaskier’s song.”

“You just fucking miss the bard, Geralt, that’s all.”

“No. No, I actually think…”

“That might be exactly the problem,” Lambert says and places his empty tankard back on the table. “The second round’s on me.”

“Seems like your plan’s not working as intended,” Jaskier comments. He’s spent weeks traveling with Aiden, and they still haven’t even heard about another Witcher trying to find them.

“I’m aware,” Aiden mutters, chewing his dinner without even noticing its taste – which is, honestly, probably for the best. “Could you be, like… less subtle?”

Jaskier shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“Fine,” Aiden nods. “Do it.”

“It’s a man now,” Geralt frowns, listening to the song he’s heard countless times already. “That’s new.”

“Looks like Master Dandelion might like to, uhm, dual wield,” Lambert snorts.

“It still sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Does Jaskier like to dual wield?”

“Hmm,” Geralt says dreamily.

“All the more reason to apologize, then, eh?”

“Oh, shut up, Lambert…”

“Still not working!” Aiden groans. He’s been waiting for three months for his Wolf to find him, and to no avail.

“I could, you know… Try something more obvious,” Jaskier offers.

“Please.”

“It’s a cat now,” Geralt blinks. “Dark-skinned, dark-haired… cat.”

Lambert sighs.

“Yeah, I hate those fucking metaphors.”

“I’m starting to think I should have just… kept trying to find him,” Aiden sighs, staring out of the tavern’s window.

Jaskier, cheeks still flushed from his performance, downs his ale and shakes his head.

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” he says. “I’ve already made a few changes to the song.”

“Oh, have you?” Aiden smirks. “Does it now say Lambert, I’m alive you moron, stop hiding and fucking find me?”

“Well, not yet… But almost.”

“Great. I can’t wait to hear it.”

Lambert is staring at yet another local bard singing the fucking ballad. He doesn’t even blink. Geralt is getting a little worried that his brother’s brain might have actually exploded.

“It says a Cat Witcher now,” he says, hoping it would get a reaction out of Lambert.

The redhead finally blinks. That’s probably good.

“A Cat Witcher who comes back to life only to find out his Wolf lover has already avenged him,” Geralt adds.

Lambert blinks again.

“And you know, I’m almost sure that this Master Dandelion is just Jaskier’s new alias.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Lambert mutters when the song finally comes to its end.

“Which one of them?” Geralt smirks.

“Both of them!” Lambert growls. “I swear to gods, if I find out your stupid bard stole my Cat…”

“Excuse me, madam,” Geralt says to the innkeeper who’s just brought them their dinner. “Where did your bard learn this song?”

“That sappy ballad?” the innkeeper frowns. “From this Master Dandelion himself. He passed through the town last week with a Witcher.”

“And Master Dandelion…”

“You know the bard that calls himself Jaskier? It’s him with a fancy hat on,” she smirks.

“About this Witcher,” Lambert growls. “Does he look like in the song?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Kind of small for a Witcher, and almost too pretty, you know, but we had a little griffin problem and he slayed that beast like it was nothing, so…”

“I’m so gonna kill them both,” Lambert murmurs while Geralt has to try very hard not to chuckle.

“Would you happen to know where were they heading?” he asks.

“I would,” the woman says and looks at the Witcher expectantly.

“I see,” Geralt sighs. “You have another monster problem, don’t you?”

“Well. It turns out the griffin probably had a mate…”

“Of course it fucking did,” Geralt nods and picks up his fork. He simply refuses to deal with this with an empty stomach…

Jaskier critically eyes the clothes he’s picked for tonight’s performance.

“What do you think, Aiden?” he asks his companion. “Isn’t the purple a bit too much? It’s a small town, after all. Wouldn’t the steel blue look better?”

“I don’t know, I like the red one best,” Aiden shrugs from his spot on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Reminds you of Lambert’s hair,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “Melitele’s tits, I wish he’d find us already, because this is getting really–”

As if on cue, the door of the room slams open and a big, red-haired man walks in.

“You fucking bitch!” he yells when he sees Aiden.

The dark-haired Witcher beams and gets to his feet.

“Lambs!”

“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Jaskier nods.

Lambert growls and grabs Aiden by the collar.

“Asshole!” he hisses. “I fucking mourned you!”

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet,” Aiden smiles.

Lambert pushes him against the wall, so hard that Aiden grunts.

“I cried for you!”

“In my defense, it wasn’t exactly my fault,” Aiden smiles.

Jaskier inches towards the door.

“I guess I’ll just… leave you two to it.”

Needless to say, Lambert ignores him completely.

“I fucking avenged you!”

“Yes, that was very kind of you,” Aiden grins, utterly unaffected by Lambert’s angry face so close to his own. “You saved me a lot of trouble.”

Lambert groans, buries his face in Aiden’s shoulder and sighs deeply.

“You fucker,” he mutters.

“Yeah, I missed you too, puppy,” Aiden smiles, wrapping his arms around Lambert.

Jaskier, who’s already standing in the doorway, places his hand on his heart and takes a deep breath.

“Oh,” he whispers. “I shall write the most beautiful ballad about this… Ow!”

He’s unceremoniously dragged out of the room and this time it’s his turned to be slammed against the wall by a big, angry Witcher – but this one is white-haired and dressed all in black.

“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaims, his face brightening up.

“You won’t write a fucking thing,” Geralt growls.

“Is that so? May I ask why, dear heart?”

“Because you’re mine. My bard. And if I ever find out you’re writing about another Witcher again–”

“Then what?” Jaskier asks, cocking his head. “But before you answer, I’d like to remind you that I am not yours anymore, as you have made it quite clear on the mountain that you are not interested in having me as a companion–”

Jaskier is effectively shut up by Geralt’s lips pressing against his with determination that makes it absolutely clear that Geralt hasn’t merely lost his balance and happened to be falling in Jaskier’s general direction.

“Mine,” he growls.

“Well,” Jaskier sighs, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s hair. “When you put it like that… Fuck the mountain, I suppose.”

“Fuck the mountain,” Geralt agrees. “But I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“Apology very much accepted,” Jaskier laughs. “I’d ask you to fuck me, but I’m afraid my room is currently… occupied.”

Lambert’s loud moan only confirms Jaskier’s statement.

“Hm,” Geralt hums. “Do you think this tavern has a bath? I think I still have some griffin blood in my hair from last week.”

“Oh,” Jaskier purrs. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure I could get some chamomile oil…”

They hear another moan, this time Aiden’s.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Geralt grins and grabs Jaskier’s hand. “Come on, bard. We have some catching up to do…”

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #lambden #lambert x aiden #idiots in love #(but mostly they're just idiots)#aiden lived bitches #major character resurrection #they're stupid your honor #my fics #attempt at humor

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tarosin · 3 years

Text

The great adventures of y/n tubbo jack niki and george

requested:yes/no

pairing: platonic y/n,tubbo,jack,niki and george

summary: minecraft cave in real life

content warning: cursing

an: the word love is used a couple times but this is all platonic <3 i still don’t know how to add read more on mobile i am sorry about that, part 3 to great adventures series

it was around 4 am when the heat became a problem, unable to sleep you grabbed your phone and decided to facetime ranboo just as he was ending stream

“hey boo...you look like you’ve seen a ghost what the fuck were you doing”

“fnaf vr”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad you’re being dramatic”

“okay we shall see how you like it when I make you play it when I’m in the UK”

“okay bet I’ll add it to our list of videos and stream ideas anyway I can't sleep it’s too hot and I’m so confused as to why Tommy keeps asking me if I like and I quote being high”

“tubbo was telling me about that he keeps teasing him about planes you never know maybe you’re all going on an international adventure... or being pushed out a plane”

“doubt it there’s no way Tommy would pull something as crazy as jumping out a plane it would be pretty cool, I was thinking about doing it for my birthday”

“with a parachute? I hope”

“eh with or without, either way, is fine for me”

an hour passed you and ranboo sat talking about what was happening tomorrow and how you wished he was going to be there with you, after all, you knew how it felt to be watching people you care about making plans and doing things without you.

“didn’t you say you were going to a cave tomorrow? Minecraft in real life, nice”

“I’m begging please touch grass”

“I’ve already done that it made me want to become an engineer now get some rest y/n you’ll be getting up in a few hours, I’ll call you tomorrow goodnight”

“see you tomorrow I love you”

*y/n has ended the call*

•••

when you woke up at 9 you couldn’t shake off the awful feeling you had, today just didn’t feel like a good day you needed some time to yourself to recharge however you knew you’d be okay later on

Niki: good morning y/n!! would you like us to pick you up now or do you need a bit longer

y/n: don’t worry about it I’ll make my own way!! :]

Niki: okay see you soon!!

George: we will pick you up in an hour and a bit

Tommy: wait what are you guys doing

tubbo: following jack and Niki around

y/n: what he said

Tommy: have fun then guys without me

y/n: don’t you have work to do big guy

Tommy: don’t you have to get ready

y/n: leave me alone

•••

soon enough you saw jacks car pull up outside so you grabbed your bag from the other day as it still had everything you needed except this time you decided to bring along a mini first aid kit as you knew your clumsiness and a cave wouldn’t mix well. now you were fully awake you couldn’t wait to go explore the caves, you sat next to Niki who decided to play with your hair and spent half of the journey on a call with an unhappy Tommy who was in college waiting to go to lesson the other half of the journey was spent singing along to the radio

•••

jack started recording and turned around to see you Niki and tubbo leaning over looking down at the floor

“oh hi jack” you waved at the camera “so what’s the plan of action”

“we’re going up there”

you loved heights so hearing that you were going to go on a cable car made you pretty excited once you all got into the car you and George tried opening all the windows whilst tubbo complained

“stop trying to open things”

“it’s a window”

“scared you’re going to get pushed over the edge hmm? scared you’ll have to free fall? it’s not that high you'd probably survive the fall, it’s not like I'm trying to open the door on a plane”

“y/n I mean this in the nicest way possible I’m never going on a plane with you”

tubbo laughed and joined the conversation “we shall see about that”

you tilted your head to the side and blinked a few times trying to process what he just said

“heh?”

“tubbo if we fell we would die right”

“you know jack I've done a lot in my life”

you took the phone from jack and began filming him and George

“why is it slowing down”

“we’re going to die”

“I didn’t bring enough food”

you sat laughing at your friends' reaction before explaining that it’s slowing down for a reason

“they’re slowing it down so you can jump out, what I didn’t tell you is there’s actually a parachute underneath where you’re sat, good luck gamers”

“We could probably climb out the window”

“NO, where do we go”

you just sat shaking your head laughing whilst your friends sat screaming about it stopping

“y/n we’re going to die”

“oh no.. let me just text ranboo to start planning our funerals”

eventually, the cable car began moving just very slow you then ended the recording after jack made jokes about it moving as fast as a George video comes out, you all then spent the rest of the time enjoying everyone’s company.

•••

tubbo noticed a park and ran to the ropes giving you time to update your community a stream will be happening later on

y/n has tweeted: I am outside, stream with ranboo when we get home :]

you laughed as you posted that as all the comments started rolling in questioning if ranboo had come to the UK. you walked back to your group and wrapped your arms around jack and Niki making them both jump out of shock

“Sorry about that ahah now if you don’t mind I want to play in the park”

they laughed as you ran to the rope trying to swing without falling that’s when you gave up and started climbing the net close to Niki.

“that’s not a swing George”

jack ran towards them “I’m getting on the swing with George”

Niki laughed as she recorded what was happening in front of her, she looked to her left expecting to see you stood next to her however she heard you laugh and run towards your friends

“I’m getting on the swing with tubbo”

a few moments later George pointed out a castle and tubbo mentioned the ‘wet rocks’ you just stood with your arm around Niki's shoulders enjoying the view of the castle that was until a dog caught your attention and you walked off to go ask if you could pet it

“Niki where’s y/n they were with you last”

“with the dog”

“tubbo when they come back just follow the path towards the castle, me and Niki are going to record”

“got it, boss man”

•••

after a few minutes, you walked back to tubbo and George realising jack and Niki weren’t there you tilted your head shrugged then sat next to tubbo on the swings as George began recording

“jack and Niki have left us but we’re having fun on the swings..”

“maybe we’ll lick some rocks”

“YEAH”

•••

“if we’re quiet we can sneak up on them”

the three of you ran down the path towards the start of the castle steps looking at the cameras that allowed you to see the top of the castle

“there they are”

“they’re vlogging”

“We can just see them through the castle cameras they have no idea we can see them”

you stood leaning against George until you all noticed they were about to make their way back down the steps so all ran off to hide

“there they go”

the three of you ran back down the path ignoring the stares from strangers and comments about how your hair was obnoxiously bright, the three of you scared the pair who were looking for you all

“I’ve never been less displeased to see George”

the five of you continued walking around after joking about the green water and questioning George on how he could tell what colour it was

“I’m a genius”

a few fans can over and took photos with you all and George began questioning them

“George you’re really self-promoting right now”

“George I am disappointed in you”

•••

“dude it’s boiling”

“ice cream?”

the five of you stood inline

“I’m dying to tubbo”

“I’m not going to ask questions, I love how you just accepted defeat”

“you’re next y/n” tubbo let go of George and began walking towards you

“FUCK OFF NO” you ran behind George and used him as a shield

“y/n George isn’t going to protect you”

“I will y/n don't worry tubbo fuck off” the three of you stood laughing not realising jack was walking towards you all with the ice cream

“thank you”

“you’re welcome how’s the ice cream”

“great thank you”

you laughed at jack who somehow managed to get ice cream on his nose

•••

you and tubbo noticed a wishing well and walked over to it

“wanna make a wish”

“yeah but we have no money”

you both looked at each other then at jack them looked back at each other and nodded

“what are you two doing”

“We wanna make a wish”

“come on give me your money”

everyone stood laughing at you and tubbo determined to make a wish whilst jack argued he had no money however tubbo noticed a £20 note and grabbed it

“y/n quick make a wish”

the pair of you held the note and then dropped it into the well

“yay!!”

“We made a wish”

the pair of you walked off whilst jack stood telling you both how he can’t believe you and the pair of you had stolen over £100 from him today making you both laugh

“tell me the wish”

“We can’t or it won’t come true”

•••

“right cave time”

“we’re going to die”

“well thanks for that George”

you stood next to tubbo trying to ignore your friends as they made comments about there being mobs like creepers in the cave

“you two really need to go outside more”

everything was going well for you until the worker said to everyone

“I think we do have some kids here who are doing a vlog”

you could feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment although you loved your job you still weren’t used to people pointing it out

•••

“This cave has a door”

“naturally formed door”

“y/n tubbo were in the caves, where are the diamonds”

you pointed in a random direction then continued walking whilst tubbo kneeled examining the rock claiming there were diamonds, as you all kept walking you had to put up with tubbo jack and George making Minecraft jokes whilst Niki followed behind them staying rather quiet, everyone’s as focusing on the cave not saying much till George spoke up

“it’s turned into a horror movie”

“why’s the cave so low why can’t they just dig up”

“y/n did you really just ask that”

“yes I did my neck hurts from ducking under the rock”

“so sorry to hear that”

“thank you for your concern George”

“I’m not concerned”

“oh-“

the tour continued and you were genuinely having a good time, you found all the different rocks and information given to you by the worker fascinating and slowly stopped listening to what your friends were saying behind you

“so this little tunnel up here is where they would send the kids”

“off you go tubbo and y/n”

“please no”

you all continued for a while till you were told you were going in the dark despite the fact you were excited you were also very afraid of the dark so stood closer to tubbo who instantly noticed and pulled you into a side hug

“we’re going dark”

“oh wow that is the only source of light”

a minute or so later they turned on some softly coloured led lights so you could all look at the geode

“holy shit that’s beautiful”

“I thought a geode was a small animal”

“that’s a pokemon dude”

you were all given time to go for a wander however rather than walking with the others you decided to stay with the geode and started a group call with ranboo and Tommy

“hi guys can’t stay long break is almost over”

“that’s okay Tommy but look at this giant fucking rock”

you flipped the camera so they could see and went around showing them parts of the cave

“holy shit”

“looks great y/n”

“cool right I have to go the worker wants us to get ready to leave see you all soon”

“wait y/n one last question, how are you with heights”

“oooh I’m great I love them we went in a cable car earlier”

“awesome see you all later”

*Tommy left the call*

“I’ll call you when I get home boo I’ll see you soon!!”

“bye y/n stay safe”

*ranboo has left the call*

*y/n has left the call*

as you all left the cave you and tubbo noticed two rocks and went to pick them up

“hey look our wish came true”

“yeah we wished for a weird looking rock when we left the cave”

“you paid £20 for a rock”

“yes”

a few minutes later you and tubbo just started walking away only to be later followed by everyone else

“where are you going”

•••

you all got the cable car back at this point you were exhausted you used all your energy running around the cave determined to show Tommy and ranboo everything

“What did you all think of the cave”

“loved it”

“you lost your rock tubbo?”

tubbo pulled out the rock and smiled at jack

“no, I didn’t”

“but you chucked it”

“told you we wished for a magic rock”

jack finished the recording and you all just sat talking about your day and any future plans

•••

the journey back home was extremely quiet you and tubbo sat next to each other, you fell asleep with your head resting on his shoulder, Niki sat in the front with jack quietly singing along to the radio and George and tubbo quietly spoke to each other trying not to wake you up.

when you finally got home you woke up on your couch confused as to how you got there it was only when you checked your phone you got the answer

Niki: you looked exhausted we didn’t want to wake you, hope you don’t mind. your keys are on the table next to your bag!! see you soon it was lovely meeting you <3

you decided to reply thanking your friends for today.

•••

*incoming call: ranboo*

you accepted the call

“hey y/n tell me all about your day whilst you get ready to stream I'm already set up”

“oh they’re gonna be so annoyed I've joined in with making jokes about you being in the UK anyway so my day was pretty good but I did end up asleep on my couch and had no idea how I got there”

“heh?”

“let me explain”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fluff #tubbo imagine #tubbo fluff #tubbo x reader #tubbo x y/n #tubbo x you #jack manifold imagine #jack manifold x y/n #jack manifold fluff #jack manifold x you #jack manifold x reader #nihachu x reader #nihachu fluff #georgenotfound imagine

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starsfic · 2 years

Text

Having fun with the idea of Baigujing screwing the monkeys’ memories and killing Macaque. So...

When the pilgrims disappeared out of view, there was silence.

“...Now what?”

There was a sigh as six ears moved, probably following the footsteps of the pilgrims. “I think,” Marshal Liu eyed the blood leaking from the scratch over the Macaque King’s eye. “You should probably go home and get that bandaged, your Majesty.” He was extremely lucky that was all their king done.

It could’ve been worse. But that hadn’t come to pass.

Not yet.

“Yeah, yeah, fair.” Macaque paused before seductively grinning at his sworn brother’s most beloved general. “But, what do you think? A good look for me?”

Liu eyed the blood leaking over his face. “I think you overestimate your own looks, your Majesty.” Macaque paused to take that in as they passed by him.

“Ow.”

“It’s the truth.” Liu called over their shoulder. The air rippled around them, clearly prepared to take off. “Do you need a ride?”

“Eh.” Macaque shrugged. “A walk might be good for me.” His court wasn’t too far from here anyway. He eyed the night. However... “Why don’t you spend the night? Wukong would be upset if you accidentally hurt yourself because of your exhaustion.”

Liu hummed, considering the offer, before nodding. “Alright then-”

They paused, ears flicking, clearly hearing something. Macaque raised a brow but did not say a word. He knew better than to disrupt the Six-Eared Macaque’s listening. Their upper ears had lit up to boot, meaning that something in the future had caught their attention.

Their face lit up in panic.

“MOVE!”

“What-!”

Liu was shoving him out of the way before he could finish. A massive thing slammed into them and there was a scream. “RUN!” Right where Liu had been standing, a massive circle with characters glowed.

Before Macaque could stand, pull out his weapon, do anything, chains burst out of the circle. They wrapped around him and before he could scream back, he was yanked into the circle.

The last thing he saw was Liu’s horrified face.

-_-

“How interesting. You were not the one I intended to catch.”

A hum.

“You shall suffice. Let’s get started, shall we?”

#LMK #Monkie Kid #Lego Monkie Kid #my writing #fic #Marshal Liu #Macaque #Baigujing #Lady Bone Demon #White Bone Spirit

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Your writing is my favourite 🥀 Anymore John Stones fics please?

ask, and you shall receive kind anon

here to help

this has been on my mind since i wrote our girl so here’s how john and reader met for that little fic

From the moment you woke up - or rather were woken up this morning - you’d been having one of those days. One of those ‘i really hope no one sits next to me on the train’ days. One of those everything makes you want to cry days. Just one of those days.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, the late nights and early mornings or the fact that no minute of the day was your own. You were exhausted, drained and in dire need of a long sleep and some food that didn’t come out of a microwave and taste awful.

Probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

Except today wouldn’t be one of those ones where someone sits next to you on the train when you would have preferred they didn’t, because when you got on the train that evening after another long day with dark circles under your eyes and an empty stomach because you’d been too busy to take lunch and were run off your feet, there wasn’t a single fucking seat on that train.

Well, one empty seat taken up by a man’s briefcase and umbrella. It was abundantly clear that he had done that so no one would sit next to him and you barely even had the energy to be annoyed. You had made eye contact a short while after getting on and he simply shook his head at you with a scowl. Whether he was saving the seat for someone or he just didn’t want anyone next to him didn’t matter to you, you felt like your legs were going to buckle beneath you and the weight of the two bags you had to carry over one shoulder while your other arm supported the weight of your world while you hold onto the sticky yellow pole with your other hand so you don’t go flying when the train screeches to a stop.

You approached the guy in the suit, eyes pleading. “Look, is there any way that i could-” He cuts you off by pointing the earphones he was wearing and shrugging his shoulder before looking out the window on his left. You might’ve fought, argued with him and gotten yourself a seat, but you just didn’t have that kind of fight in you today and would rather just let him be obnoxious than cause an embarrassing scene on the train.

More embarrassing that you already had at least, trying to wrangle a screaming baby.

There was one man who’s eyes you had felt on you on and off for pretty much the entire time he had been on the train. You were assuming he was judging something about you; be that the exhaustion present in your body and in your face or the way you struggle to hold everything at once. You honestly could’ve cried, everything just felt like it was so, so much. You felt like you were in survival mode, existing only to exist and nobody cared. People looked in and nobody cared.

Until he did.

The tall guy with long legs and fluffy, almost curly, brown hair steps past you, brushing past your shoulder where you stand again in the space near the train doors holding onto the pole. He stands in front of the man you had tried to confront three minutes ago and anger bubbles up under the surface at the thought of him getting that seat.

“Come on mate.” He says, his voice much louder than yours was and more commanding than yours ever would be. The man in the suit takes out his earphone with furrowed eyebrows and a remaining frown. “That’s a spare seat,” he points at the brief case and umbrella sitting, “And that woman just asked you for it.” People start to cast their eyes to him with many sporting subtle grins at this man hogging a seat being put in his place.

“So?” he snarks.

“So?” The tall one echos incredulously, “She’s got a baby with her mate, it’s not safe to be standing there. Just move your shit.” He scoffs, his voice feeling to an irritated grumble. The other guy shakes his head firmly. “Don’t want to be sitting next to a whining baby, do i?”

“It’s alright,” you insist with a sigh and flushed cheeks, “I’ll be fine, honest-“

“No,” he holds up a hand as he turns to offer you a soft smile, his eyes determined as he turns back to the other man. “Move yourself then,” he growls, leaning himself down to get closer so he can speak more hushed as he tightens his muscles and clenches his jaw, “Or I’ll fucking move you myself.”

The guy huffs, grabs his crap and stands up, pushing past the tall man and glaring at you as he passed. You would never have fought it like that, but your aching legs are thankful and someone did. He gives you a smile, helping you into the inside seat before moving to walk away when he hears your voice. “You can sit there, if you like?”

You fully expect him to reject. Not many would want to sit next to ragged looking woman with. slobbery teething baby who keeps making sounds as though she’s going to start wailing at any moment. But his lips just stretch back into that smile as he turns and takes the seat next to you happily. “Thank you for that,” you mutter quietly, cheeks still flushed. He shrugs his shoulders, turning his eyes to your little girl in your lap. “Don’t mention it,” he smiles, waving his large at the eight month old. “I’m John.”

You shake his hand, “(y/n).” You greet in response.

“(y/n),” he repeats, eyes sparking. “And who’s this little lady eh? She’s adorable.” He coos at your daughter chewing on her fingers. You while her chin with the bib she’s wearing carefully to catch her teething dribbles, “This is Poppy, she’s teething. Sorry.” You grimace, referencing to her unhappy gurgles and constant wriggling.

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, “There are far worse passengers to sit next to, isn’t that right little miss Poppy?”

You almost feel your eyes getting a little wet at his kindness to you and to her. It seems as though you don’t get it that much these days. You’d thought that single mother had a bit more respect these days, but it seemed as though it wasn’t much better than you’d thought it would be at it’s worst. But John was kind, he was sweet and funny, cooing at the little girl until she giggled back at him, patting his face with John just laughing off your apology.

“Here,” John begins as the train pulls into the station that he knew was his stop and appeared to also be yours, “let me get those.”

Before you can even protest he lifts up the well stocked baby bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he picks up your own bag and and helps you out if your seat.

He talks and you laugh at his jokes for the entire walk to your car. You wouldn’t usually humour many people, very least men but he was funny and kind and your heart has already warmed up to him so quickly. The way he puts your bags in the boot and hands Poppy her little teething key ring as you clip her into her car seat. She gurgles happily at him with a big gummy smile and god your heart sings at the sight of him getting on so well with your little girl who’s dad left a week and a half after she was born much to your heartache.

“Sorry if this too forward,” he clears his throat, shuffling nervously between his feet. “But i’d love to see you again…both of you.”

Your heart lights up, your cheeks flushing a soft red as you smile up at him, nodding. “That would be nice.” You reply, pulling your phone out your back pocket to pull up your number from him to put into his phone. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promised.

And call you he did, shortly after 7 and talked to you for two hours while you fed and put the baby to bed and before you knew it, you had a close friend offering to take Poppy for the night so you could go to dinner with John. Then Poppy got sick and you had to cancel, thinking you’d completely scuppered any chance at this relationship until John showed up on the doorstep with a food in a bag and some candles. He cooked, you bathed the baby and he took pictures of you both giggling hysterically with her penguin towel wrapped around her with the little hood over her sparse hair. He’d never smiled so much in all of his life.

You ate John’s meal at the kitchen table when she went to bed he stayed the night when you both fell asleep on the couch.

From that day forward, this was John’s family.

His perfect little family.

#john stones #john stones blurb #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #john stones x reader #england national team imagine #manchester city imagine #football #football fic #footie fics #footballer fics

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lick-me-lennon22 · 3 years

Text

How they calm you down when you're very stressed/having a breakdown 💜

thanks so much to @betchq who requested this one! hope you enjoy :) 💕

(these ended up wayyy too long.. whoops :P)

Paul:

it's all too much- you can't take it anymore

one minute you're sitting on the bed venting to Paul about work and family troubles- frustrated, but not devastated- and suddenly you've spiraled again

you're practically hyperventilating, gripping the duvet so hard your knuckles turn white, sobbing about how unfair the world is and how you'll never truly be happy

"Woah, woah, what's this all about darling?" he interjects tenderly, a gentle finger lifting your chin up to look at him, briefly breaking you from the hope-devouring clutches of your panicked mind

"It's -*hic*- just too m-much to handle Paul, I -*hic*- c-cant do it anymore," you manage to squeak out between sobs, your voice wavering and your lip quivering

Paul gazes into your tear-filled eyes, scanning them with his own in an attempt to gain understanding, a deeply concerned expression on his face

he places a firm, loving hand on each of your shoulders, eyes still locked on yours

"Listen to me, my love- nothing, and I mean nothing, is so wrong or bad that you can't take it on, or that this world would be better off without you. I know things are difficult for ye right now and it's completely understandable that you're overwhelmed- but you will get through this. And I will stay glued to your side every step of the way"

you inhale shakily, the cascade of tears that once flowed down your cheeks slowing to a halt as Paul continues his pep talk:

"Regardless of how daunting and scary it seems and no matter what it takes, you are going to be okay- more than okay, you are going to get through this and emerge from it even better off and happier than ever before. Ye hear me?" he says sincerely- his gaze stern, piercing, and comforting all at the same time

you nod slowly, eyes glimmering with residual tears, and sniffle once more

"You are the strongest, most capable, and most resilient person I know. I don't ever want you to feel that the days are becoming too heavy for you to handle. And if you do you know you can always, always come to me, no matter how insignificant you think your struggles are- they're not. I don't care if I'm 'busy,' nothing ever takes priority over you and your wellbeing, Y/N. I mean that."

you smile up at him with appreciation as he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs

"T-Thank you, Paul. It all just gets so overwhelming.. I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's no trouble at all love, that's me job"- he gives you a small smile and pulls you in for a long, gentle hug

"I adore you Y/N, you are my whole world. Promise you'll come to me if you ever feel this way again?"

you nuzzle into Paul's chest: "I promise"

"That's my (girl/boy/love). I love you more than anything in this world- don't you ever forget that" ♡

John:

you don't even hear the front door open and shut, the sound drowned out by your sobs combined with the melancholy tunes coming from the record player on your dresser

"Y/N, I'm home!" John calls out, kicking off his shoes and coming to find you

he searches for you on the couch, at the dining room table, and then in the kitchen- but you're nowhere to be found

That's strange, he thinks, Y/N's almost always sat on the couch waiting for me when I come home...

"Where's my sweet birdie?~" he tries, striding briskly down the hallway to your shared bedroom, still in pursuit of his partner

John raps his knuckles against the wooden door and waits a few moments for a response

when he doesn't get one he turns the doorknob and pushes his way in, panic flooding his mind and senses

nothing could have prepared John for what he sees- the love of his life curled up fetal-style in bed, clutching the blanket for dear life, cheeks glistening with tears and features screwed up into an agonized expression

he rushes to your side immediately, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and shaking you softly to alert you of his presence

he spooks you and you startle, eyes snapping open in shock

"Are you alright, love? What happened- did somebody hurt you?? If someone upset ye I swear I'll make 'em rue the day they were born-" he seethes, interrupted only by you sitting up against the pillows and taking his hand in yours:

"J-John, calm down, I'm fine.."

"Did.. did I do something? Was it me? Tell me what I did wrong Y/N, whatever it is I'll fix it I promi-"

"No John, you've done everything right," you sigh

"It's j-just.." you trail off, unable to meet his gaze

he waits for a moment before encouraging you with a "Go on darling, you can tell me anything"

you take a deep, shaky breath before continuing- "Everything is so overwhelming and heavy.. just living feels like too much some days. I don't know what to do John, I'm downright miserable!!" you exclaim, your eyes once again welling up with tears

"..Oh sweetheart, come here" he opens his strong arms, pulling you in for an emotionally charged hug

John isn't the greatest at discussing feelings, so he offers comforting words instead

"Shh, everything's alright... I'm here, Johnny's got ye" he soothes, stroking your hair as you quiver in his arms, your body wracked with sobs

"I-It's just one of those days where I don't know how I'll ever b-be -*hic*- happy" you croak out, clutching his body close to yours

John draws in a deep breath before responding: "I understand how you feel- I've had plenty of those days meself," he confides in you

"But we can't let them stop us from living. Sometimes your perspective gets all screwed up and ye can't see through the bullshit your mind hurls at you,

"But one bad day is still just twenty-four hours, ye know? It helps me to think about that- that this too shall pass," he reassures you candidly, rubbing gentle circles into your back

"I know it seems impossible right now, but you'll- we'll," he corrects, "get everything sorted- including that pretty little 'ead of yours- and you'll feel like yourself again sooner than you know. Got that?" he asks

you simply nod, beginning to calm down but unable to speak just yet, and nuzzle further into John

he squeezes you tightly: "Y/N- ye know I know what it feels like to be stressed and depressed, and I just.." you hear John start to choke up and feel him tremble as he begins to cry, himself

"-ah don't ever want ye to feel hopeless like I 'ave, you know I'd take it all away in an instant if I could" he says, trying and failing to mask the wavering of his voice

"Even if it meant I'd have to take it all on meself instead, I can handle it- I'd do anything for you Y/N, I've never loved anyone or anything like I do you and it hurts me to see you in such pain"

John's voice breaks at the end of his monologue and you hear him sniffle

with that, you finally speak up: "Oh John, I'll be okay- I promise. Thank you for changing my perspective, it's just so difficult to pull yourself out of despair sometimes.. some days are just so.. heavy" you say, pulling back and looking up at him; "I didn't mean to make you cry too"

you dry your face with your sleeve and John takes your hands in his

"Y/N you know I understand completely, and I want ye to come right to me when the days get too overwhelming- I'll be sure to set your perspective straight. Don't you ever worry about making me upset or anythin' of the like, okay love?"

you nod- "And besides, I ain't crying" John says somewhat defensively and shifts his gaze away from you, still clutching your hands in his larger ones

you chuckle softly and roll your eyes at him- "Whatever you say Johnny.. you can't fool me, I know you're a softie" you tease, booping him gently on the nose

he pulls one hand back from yours, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly- "Yeah, yeah, that's enough" John says, expression hardening as he tries to disguise the grin making its way across his face

you place a hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you

"Thank you, John. I feel so much lighter now"

"Ahh, don't mention it darling. Anytime at all- you mean the world to me. I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, John." ♡

George:

to your boyfriend George, it's a day like any other

he walks down the hallway to your shared bedroom, fizzy drink in hand, intent on watching some cartoons in bed with you

he knocks and upon hearing your, "Come in!" enters the room with an "'Ello, gorgeous!"

"Room for one more? I was thinking we could have a cartoon marathon this evening- what do ye think?" he proposes, approaching you and taking a sip of his drink

you hesitate a moment before answering: "Yeah, that's fine Geo" you say flatly, punctuated with a quiet sniffle

"...Are you feeling alright, dear? What's got you down?"

George sets his glass on the nightstand and sits beside you in bed

"Nothing's the matter babe, I'm okay" you mutter unconvincingly, avoiding eye contact

George studies your face, just now noticing the red and puffy appearance of your eyes

"Have you been crying..?" he asks gingerly and places a gentle hand on your cheek

you finally turn to look at him, sighing: "...yes but before you freak out, it's really nothing- just one of those days, you know?" you offer George a weak smile, downplaying your stress

"Y/N." he begins sternly, "I can tell when something's wrong. Do you want to tell me about it, doll?"

"I would, but there really isn't much to talk about... it's just life, I guess. Nothing specific" you shrug

"It's not 'just' anything- if it matters to you, it matters just as much to me," George reassures you sweetly

"Thank you Geo, but I don't know what to tell you. I just feel...tense and pessimistic, you know?"

George nods in understanding: "Really just that sort of day then, eh? That's the worst- ye can't target anything to fix it," he sympathizes and you nod in agreement

"Tell you what- I don't care if it takes all night, I'm gonna do whatever it is I can to make you feel comfortable and calm, all right? Starting with getting some food in ya- I know that always makes me feel better" he grins

you offer him a half-hearted smile, as much as you can muster in your state

"Of course it does, George" you chuckle, "that sounds lovely"

George disappears down the hall and returns just moments later kicking the door open, arms full of snacks and sweets (including jelly babies)

your face lights up at the sight of him

he unloads everything, opening his arms and dumping it all on the bed for you to choose whichever item you please

"Thank you, Geo" you giggle and grab one of the bags of crisps, opening it and promptly reaching in for a handful to munch on

"Anything else I can get you, darling? Anything at all?"

"Hmm.. no, I don't think so-" you start, but George cuts you off before you can finish your sentence

"Oh I know! You need a nice, warm cuppa- that'll be sure to soothe you. Be right back, love" he says and with that, he's out the door once more

you wait patiently in bed for a few minutes and graze on the treats George had brought you until he reappears, a ceramic mug in one hand and a box of tissues in the other

"Here you are dear," he says, handing the mug to you and placing the tissues on your nightstand- "I thought you might need these"

"You really didn't have to do all this, my love- thank you. It really warms my heart" you tell him earnestly, "I already feel so much better"

George beams at you: "Of course gorgeous, it's no trouble at all. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Hmm..." you contemplate his question for a moment before responding- "Just one more thing, I think"

"What is it, Y/N? Anything at all, just say the word"

"Get over here and cuddle me!"- you lift the blanket and invite him to lay with you

"I thought you'd never ask" George says cheekily and hops into bed, pulling you close to his chest to spoon you

(and reaching over you to grab an overflowing handful of crisps, shoveling them into his mouth)

you can't help but laugh and snuggle into George, your worries forgotten

"Thank you, Geo. You're the best"

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't look after my (girl/boy/love)? And besides, it's no inconvenience at all- don't you worry. I love you, Y/N"

"And I love you, George" ♡

Ringo:

Ringo has always made you feel safe, heard, and loved, and he's assured you that you can confide in him whenever you need to

he's made it a point to tell you to come to him whenever you need him, and that he'll drop everything to help you in any way he can

on one particular evening, nothing seems to be going right for you

you're beyond stressed and overwhelmed, and you can't help but break down from the pressure and weight of the world

at first when you step out into the living room, face red and tear-streaked, Ringo is oblivious

he carries on watching the television, gaze locked onto the technicolor screen

"Ritchie..?" you say meekly; "What is it, my love?" he calls out, eyes still fixed on the telly

upon seeing how invested he is in the program, you suddenly feel like a burden despite what he's told you numerous times before about coming to him when you're upset

"Umm.. nevermind" you squeak out, about to turn and drag yourself back to the bedroom when Ringo finally whips his head around to face you

his wide eyes take in your pathetic, hunched frame- hair tousled, eyes puffy and blanket pulled tight around you

"Oh my- sweetheart, are you okay? What's wrong?" he scrambles up off of the sofa and rushes over to you, panic evident in his expression

he places his hands on your shoulders and looks you over, eyes searching yours for answers

"Yeah, I'm okay" you sniffle, "but.. remember all those times you told me I should come to you if I'm ever stressed out?"

"Of course I do love, what's got you so stressed?" he inquires delicately, rubbing your shoulders

"Life, existence, everything!" you confess, exhausted

"Oh honey, everything's alright- I promise! Come here" Ringo beckons you closer and smothers you in one of his renowned bear hugs

you begin to sob quietly into his shirt

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me today, I don't want to burden you-"

"Love, don't you ever worry about being overbearing or burdening me- I am always ready and willing to help you, please understand that. Managing your stress is so important and I'm thankful that ye came to me. That's what I'm here for" he reassures you as he holds you close to him

you sniffle and tremble, your tears soaking through his cotton t-shirt

"Shh, everything's going to be fine. It's okay to cry" Ringo soothes

"It's just a bad day. It doesn't mean that everything is falling apart, I promise. I'm right here. We've got this, together- you and I could take on the whole world if we had to!"

you pull back from his embrace and gaze into his eyes; "Really?"

"Of course we could, baby! Now let's get you to bed, how about that?"

you nod and Ringo lifts you up, carrying you bridal style to your shared room and setting you down gently on the bed

he swaddles you in a blanket burrito and proceeds to kiss your tears away, peppering your face with little smooches that make your heart flutter and your mind go blank

"Ritchie!!" you exclaim, giggling

"What? Kisses are the best medicine"- you agree, as long as they're his at least

once he's finished administering your treatment, he asks: "What else can I fetch ye, cutie? Anything?"

"You!"

"Why, of course!" Ringo's grin widens, lighting up his face as he pulls you close to him in bed

you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes, the dull thud of his heartbeat lulling you into a serene state of mind

for the remainder of the night Ringo refuses to leave your side, even when you drift off into peaceful slumber at last

"I love you, Y/N" he mumbles, the last thought occupying his mind before he too dozes off to sleep ♡

#beatles #the beatles #beatles x reader #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #beatles imagines #john lennon imagines #paul mccartney imagines #george harrison imagines #ringo starr imagines #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #richard starkey #LMLBeatles

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sezja · 3 years

Text

Previously

"Next year," Melody says, coming to stand beside Sanson as he watches Guydelot entertain little Maddie. "Next year, we shall have to see to it that your bard is dressed properly for a seneschal for Little Ladies' Day. I understand this year the duty was thrust upon him, but-"

"Best of luck to you." Sanson, wearing his dress uniform (as he had no other formal wear to don at a moment's notice), is far less troubled by Guydelot's casual attire than his sister - and Maddie certainly doesn't seem to care. The little girl squeals with glee as Guydelot sweeps her up onto his shoulders, towering above the rest of the crowd. "I expect trying to get Guydelot into a suit will be much like trying to dress a cat."

Melody huffs, planting her hands on her hips. "Then-"

"If you mean to forbid his attendance, you will first have to convince her." Sanson nods toward the cheering little girl on Guydelot's shoulders, where she's preoccupied by snatching pink flower petals out of the air and planting them in the Elezen's hair. "I believe she's already attached."

"He's surprisingly good with her." Thoughtfully, Melody leans against one of the cherry blossom trees transplanted for the holiday. The light filtering through the petals paints her in pink, making her look softer... at least until her gaze sharpens, landing squarely on Sanson. "He'd make a good father, I believe."

Caught off-guard, Sanson sputters. "What-"

"As would you, could you tear yourself away from duty long enough."

"I don't-"

"Have you not thought about it?" She smiles, looking back at Guydelot and Maddie, who are now singing a nursery rhyme, along with several other nearby little girls. A charming cacophony arises, with Maddie at its center on her high perch.

Despite himself, Sanson smiles at the sight, at the sound. "Melody, we've not even been together a year."

"Ah, but nine moons? Ten?" She shrugs. "'Tis your longest relationship to date, and I believe that's not mere happenstance."

"Still altogether too early to be discussing children."

His sister's eyes grow huge. "Sanson. Did you truly tumble into bed with a man without discussing your plans for the future, what you wanted out of a relationship, whether you wanted a family, how you meant to grow your lives together-"

"Not all of us found our sweethearts before we'd lost our baby teeth," Sanson replies testily, feeling his face heating. Gods, there are people around. "We'll have the necessary conversations in due time-"

"What conversations're those?" Swinging Maddie down from his shoulders (much to her vocal disappointment), Guydelot joins them. He plants a kiss on Maddie's forehead before passing the girl to her mother; Melody plants Maddie squarely on her hip, though she's growing too big for it. "Well? What conversations?"

"I-"

"I was just telling Sonny what excellent fathers you would make," Melody replies.

Sanson is almost gratified by the shade of spectre-white the Elezen's face becomes. He fights the urge to laugh. "And as I was saying, it's altogether too early to speak of such things. Besides," he adds, as the color begins to return to Guydelot's face, "We have our duty to think of, and we'll too often be afield. It would be unfair to a child, even were we inclined to parenthood."

"Aye," Guydelot replies, shaking his head. "Aye, and I reckon little Maddie and the others-" Sanson's other nephews, too young yet to be amused by a bard. "-Aren't too keen to share, eh?"

Happy to help, Maddie nods. "I'm the princess," she informs them.

"And we remain your devoted seneschals," Guydelot replies, sweeping her an over-the-top bow that has her in fits of giggles.

Melody watches the exchange with raised eyebrows and a small smile. "Very well," she relents. "You win this round. But remember: I told you so."

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #my writing #lyrica would be FAR LESS TACTFUL about this actually #just 'are you going to have children? i mean you still CAN right? oh but i suppose you can always adopt! sonny why are you blushing?'#he should be grateful melody got here first

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alicemitch09writes · 3 years

Text

(un)loving miya atsumu

fourteen.

loving miya atsumu

Dear Atsumu,

I hate how much your face is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the word - ‘happiness’ and ‘love’. Happiness, because it radiates off your bones, no matter the situation, in court when up against strong opponents, thwarting plays with a setter dump or when you’re up serving, or when pulling off nasty quicks with your brother or any other player, off court when you fight with Osamu over the last ice cream at the convenience store, when you share a stupid joke with your dad, or even when you’re with the people you care about. Love, because you do everything with just the right to too much amount of love, pouring your everything in it, pouring your heart in the things that make you happy may it be volleyball, Osamu, your family, Mika- not a single wasted opportunity to convey your love and happiness. Nobody compares the way you do.

You’ve set a standard for almost everything, which is why you expect nothing for the best to be at the receiving end of both happiness and love.

I hope you know that to me; you are the embodiment of both happiness and love. Because I really hate how you remain the embodiment of these two words I have difficulty expressing.

Your name literally translates to 'to devour' and in a sense, you are someone who happily, readily accepts love and happiness on a daily basis, allowing it to fill you up to the core and share it with everyone.

You are everything that is everything – the sun after a stormy day, the sunshine in my veins, the kiss of the wind against my skin, the light to my darkness, my sunflower. You are everything to me, and to you, I offer, my whole heart, which you don’t have to worry returning, because it’s yours. Always has been.

- (Y/N)’s letter, 1 out of 13

"MIKA!" launching yourself at your big sister, engulfing in a hug, the two of you laughed. Breaking away, you held your older sister an arm's length, taking her in. "You're home! You're here!" The excitement was evident in your tone, a bit of confusion as well, at the joyful arrival of your big sister.

"Just thought I'd surprise you!"

Frowning slightly, you ask again. "But how about school?"

"I'm on break!"

"Alexander and Pien?"

"The family's currently on vacation in Spain," sensing another question coming, she furthers. "the parents were the ones who arranged this trip, because they know it would mean the world to me and I would never want to miss my little sister's big day."

The grin on your face softened, engulfing your sister into a hug again. "I'm just so happy you're here,"

"Me, too."

Despite everything that went down, before anything else in the world, this was your sister – your best friend by design. After months apart, talking to her virtually for a year, having her in person was such a delight. Seeing her home was probably the best graduation gift you could ask more.

Swaying into your hug, relishing in the feeling of her touch, Mika slowly opens her eyes, seeing the twins, finally remembering that they weren't alone.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" dropping the hug, she turns to the twins. "Atsumu, Osamu, hello!"

"Welcome back, Mika-nee," says Osamu.

"H-Hey Mika-nee," Atsumu stutters.

Something unsettled in your belly, coming at a screeching halt at the reunion. You could feel Osamu's eyes on you. Balling your hands into fists, you swallowed that ugly feeling, wearing a smile on.

"Shall we head inside?" Nobody seemed to notice the slight crack in your voice, which you were thankful for. Lowering your head, your eyes easily found your graduation pin, a reminder.

Atsumu, however, seemed out of it. Even in the presence of his first love, he didn't seem the least happy to see her. In fact, he almost looked, dare you say, troubled.

While the three of you were taking off your shoes, the house filled with joyous noises from both families, you turned to the blond-dyed teen worriedly.

"Atsumu, are you alright?"

Is he alright? How was he supposed to feel? Mika was right there! Mika, the person he's been in love with since he was 9. Love, right? She's always been his standard, the perfect girl for some just as perfect as him. Boyfriend be damned. Mika was there. Mika was here. Shouldn't he be happy?

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your voice, he worked on a feeble smile, worrying you even more.

Snapping out of it, he quirks his lips up. Before you can say another word, his grandparents come barrelling down the hall to greet you three.

Atsumu's smile was worrying.

"How I've missed Japanese food!" Mika gushes at the table, eyes bright at the food on display – especially at the seafood, care of your uncle (of course).

Laughing, the twins' father turns to her. "What's wrong with Dutch food, Mika-chan?"

Aside from sushi, there was an assortment of dishes like tempura, sauteed vegetables, salad, grilled meat, roast beef and chicken, and two cakes. With a feast like this, calling for the occasion, it was enough to water anyone’s mouth.

"It's alright, but kinda bland." they laugh at that.

You sat next to your sister, Kaoru on your other side. Across you sat the twins, Atsumu directly in front of you. Catching his eye, he quirked his lips up – smile seeming forced.

Your mom was all smiles, lifting her glass up. “Well now, let’s make a toast to our graduates!”

"To our bright and wonderful children!” your uncle seconds, joyfully, loudly. “To Atsumu, Osamu, and (Y/N)! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Everyone was clinking their glasses against each other before digging in.

The adults were usually doing the talking, exchanging pleasantries about this and that, while the youngins were on a world of their own. It only made sense why the (extended) table was divided into two – young and old.

Lifting his gaze, Atsumu could see you chatting up with his grandparents, a pleasing and polite smile on your face. As his grandma was sharing about her newest hobby, you were wiping Kaoru’s face clean, much to the younger boy’s displeasure.

“Atsumu, I hear you’ve been scouted by a pro-league?”

Suddenly called by Mika, he was suddenly on the spot. Normally, he would preen, just to keep those bright (e/c) eyes on him. When in truth, he wants another pair of eyes on him.

“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s right.”

“Pfft, what kinda energy is that?” booms his dad’s voice, ringing throughout the room. “Give it more life, Atsumu!” Beside him, his mom pats her husband’s arm, smiling per usual, but had a loving look in her eyes.

“What team are you joining?”

“MSBY Black Jackals,” he replies, staring at his plate. “they’re based in Osaka.”

Atsumu still remembers the day you approached him, shared with him how a scout agent had approached you first, then asked for Atsumu’s contact information. He was so over the moon after you told him that.

“Oh! So it’s close by!”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice, you don’t have to worry about university and just continue doing what you do best. I’m jealous.”

Atsumu works on a faint smile, happy to hear it.

You watched the whole exchange from the corner of your eye, taking a bite of sushi before washing it down with soda, swallowing down the lump in your throat as well.

“Nee-san,” something pat at the corners of your mouth, Kaoru grinning. “your mouth was messy!”

Smiling, you could only pat his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Kaoru.”

“And how about (Y/N)-chan?” the Miya’s grandmother asked you suddenly, bringing the attention to you.

Now at the center of attention, you set down your plate. “Um…I’ll be studying at Hiroshima University.”

“Hiroshima! That’s four hours away from here?” whines the twins’ mom, to which your uncle and mom shrugs easily.

“Well, it was her decision.”

“Waseda was also in her list, but she opted for Hiroshima University.”

Nearly choking on his drink, the twins’ father turns to you. “Wa-Waseda!?”

“Dad, calm down!” Atsumu berates, embarrassed. Beside him, Osamu just helps himself to another serving, handing his grandfather another, too.

“Don’t underestimate Waseda, Atsumu! That’s one of the most prestigious schools in Japan!”

Atsumu knows that very well, because you told them about it. Just that…

“Well, she didn’t pass.” Huffs your uncle, but goes on to explain rather excitedly. “So she went for the next big thing – Hiroshima University!”

“Dad, didn’t we already tell you this?” Osamu frowns, rice sticking to his cheek. “We also told you she passed the exams.”

Their dad deflated at that, scratching at his cheek. “A-Ah, eh…you know your old man, he’s getting old and his memory’s failing him.” Everyone in the table laughs, even young Kaoru!

“Still, Hiroshima’s a long way from here, (Y/N)-chan,” their grandfather turns to you. “Why not join Osamu at Kobe University? Or Atsumu in Osaka at Kansai University?”

Shrugging, you reached over to refill his glass. “I wanted a change of pace, I guess. Also,” sitting back, you brushed strands of hair behind your ear, exposing your conch piercing. “I had a bit of epiphany when we had our class excursion there.”

The adults smile at your words, Mika, most especially.

“Well, I know you’ll do well there which is why we want you to have this,” from his pocket, the twins’ grandfather produced three envelopes – for you, Osamu, and Atsumu. To say that the three of you were shocked would be an understatement. “Here,”

Ever so carefully, the three of you took the envelope with both hands.

“Go on, open it!” says their mom excitedly, recording with their phone.

“OH MY GOD MOM, YOU’RE EMBARRASSING US!”

“Open, open!” their grandmother clapped her hands excitedly, sharing the same sweet smile as her husband.

Glancing at each other, the three of you seemed to share the same idea.

“On three?”

Nod.

“One,”

“Two,”

“Three!”

Outside the window, the wind blew, sending a draft it in (L/N) household. One glance and you were greeted by a world painted in pink hues, blushes of nature come in falling petals – spring has come alright.

In your subdivision, there was only one cherry blossom tree that was planted in the playground just behind your house. At the epicentre of your neighbourhood, like a heartbeat that connected each household to its beating. When spring comes, it blooms, shedding off its petals, scattering against the wind everywhere – for everyone to see.

A chance to bring spring into their homes, to enjoy moments like these without having to worry about leaving. Like a hanami at home.

“Ohhh.”

“…we got money.”

“Granny, Gramps, thank you so much!”

“Use the money wisely now!”

“I’m jealous,” Mika tells you, watching the twins. “you three got to share moments like these, have been for years. But now,” her smile falters a bit. “you’re off on your separate ways. Will you be okay?”

Your big sister will always be your best friend, one deigned to you since you were born and because of blood. But having friends of your own was another story, especially worth noting just how quiet you can be, which is why when they moved to Hyogo and were introduced to the twins, it made her feel settled. The three of you were inseparable, always together, a bond she envied.

At this point in your life, there was no denying the consequences of growing up.

“We all have our own different dreams and ambitions, so it’s only normal that we chase after it.” Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes catch on Osamu. “Osamu’s not as ambitious as his brother, but he’s just as competitive – especially when it comes to his future and happiness.”

“True, but a shame that he’s not going pro like his brother, they would be such a team!”

It would, years of watching them grow together was enough of a testament. The most powerful twins in volleyball.

“They’ll always have volleyball and each other. But when it comes to happiness, that’s another story.” Recalling Osamu’s soft gaze on the finished onigiri he made, the tale he shared afterwards. “Osamu’s happiness in with cooking and food.”

Humming, Mika takes her own drink, sipping in.

“And the thing with Atsumu is that’s he’s always looking forward, never once settling on the past knowing that it will hold him back. In fact, he’s always looking ahead that he tends to forget what he’s doing in present time.”

“It sounds like he’s taken to heart your club motto, huh? ‘We don’t need memories’.”

It was such a powerful motto – moving and inspiring all at once. From the moment your eyes saw Inarizaki’s banner when you were young to the moment you became manager, that motto has stuck with you the most. You love that motto, love its implication and even took it by heart.

“We can’t always be ruled by our past after all.” You set your drink down. “How else are we going to move forward?”

Atsumu stared at the ceiling before him, having given up tossing and turning for the past few hours. After the third hour, he threw in the towel – he was restless, unable to fall asleep from everything that’s happened today. It’s as though he found himself at an impasse – unsure of what he’s been holding on to, unable to comprehend how he should feel with everything going on.

Mika was home. Feelings he’s had for her…surfaced. He thinks. Atsumu broke into a sigh, sitting up, he was a mess.

Suddenly, he heard rummaging from below him, muted light glowing from below.

“’Samu?” he called out.

“Ah, shit.” Osamu craned his head, meeting his eyes. “Sorry, ‘Tsumu. Did I wake you?”

Shaking his head, Atsumu noted that Osamu was dressed up. “Where’re you headed?”

“Out.” He pockets his phone and wallet away.

“By yourself?” When his brother shakes his head, Atsumu shifts from his spot, asking again. “With whom?”

“…with (Y/N).”

Atsumu was silent for a while, coming to realization how Osamu sneaks out a lot in the past. It shouldn’t be a question and should be easy to tell who he usually hung out with late at night.

“Can I come?”

Osamu’s blinked at that. Atsumu waits, hopes. He watches as his brother looks at his phone, then back to his brother. Eventually, he exhales through his nose, wearing a half-smile as he nods slowly.

“Yeah, come on.”

Smiling, Atsumu feels excited as he gets down from his bunk and quickly changes. Following his brother's lead, ever so quietly the twins trudge out of the house, careful not to make any loud noises (which honestly, they shouldn't even bother for everyone in their family were heavy sleepers), door closing shut behind him. It amazed Atsumu how his brother does it all with practiced eased.

Spring evening was chilly, biting at his skin, nipping his nose. Good thing he thought of putting on his hoodie.

Together, the twins head out their house, bypassing their gate and turn, towards the (L/N) house next door where a figure waited.

Dressed in an oversized hoodie that stopped by your mid thighs, gazing up at the night sky in thought, in waiting.

"Yo, (Y/N)."

Lowering your head, (e/c) eyes widened slightly once realizing your best friend didn't come alone. At this, Atsumu raised a hand in greeting.

"Hey, (Y/N). Mind if I tag along?"

You shrug easily, standing to your full height. "Sure, why not."

Spring night was cool and crisp, biting almost – remnants from winter’s past.

Three teens walk along their quiet neighbourhood, cruising along houses for some few blocks until reaching a brightly lit establishment just next to the main road.

Upon entering the store, the cashier – a smiling, tired-looking woman, nods at Osamu and you, eyes shining in familiarity. A recurrence, it seems. Despite the wee hours of the night, the stillness of the silence, bright lights flooded the establishment with a multitude of goods lined up, budget meals prepped and ready, everything seemed liked a sight for any customer.

Following after Osamu, the two cruised through the aisles, his brother grabbing some chips and a seasonal onigiri, the twins nearly towering over. Reaching the end, he felt a chill, realizing he was by the frozen section, with you eyeing the selection with pursed lips.

"Aren't you full from all the food we ate earlier?" Atsumu laughs, standing next to you.

"Lest you forget, Osamu has a black hole for a stomach. I'm on my period, so I have cravings." Saying this, you stare at the selection of ice cream.

"How about curfew?" You were such a stickler for rules, this was so new to him.

Shrugging, you picked up strawberry and chocolate brownie. "Osamu and I sometimes pass off as adults. Plus, this neighborhood tends to be complacent when it comes to curfew."

He smirks. "So you're using that to your advantage, huh? Smart girl."

Your only reply was bumping your shoulder against his, putting the strawberry ice cream in his hands. Which he decidedly takes.

Over your meals, the three of you share laugh, meals, and talks. Unable to help himself, and taking a page from his mother, Atsumu takes a selfie to commemorate the moment, uploading instantly to his social media.

To any other bystander – or whoever sees Atsumu’s selfie, it was nothing more than a teenage hang out with your childhood friend and brother. Rather picturesque of perfect innocence, measured smiles, occasional banter highlighted only by the lights of the sleepy convenience store, saturated by the spring evening.

A moment that sent a lurch down each of your hearts at the knowledge that moments like these were numbered. Caught up in the moment, Atsumu desperately wished for time to freeze, wishing his life was always like this.

Nostalgia filled the night, between childhood friends – like that year of silence meant nothing. It was enough to choke Atsumu, bring him to tears with how much he's missed this. Memories from his past painted into his present with bright hues and ink, he wanted them to stay, etched on his skin - unready to have them washed away when the morning comings.

Late-night snacks ended up with the twins sneaking their game console to the (L/N)'s household, talks continue even as you three were playing video games until the wee hours of the morrow, filled with more talks that piled conversation over conversation, talking as though they had a clue – leaving you all breaking into fits of silly laughter.

Just as you landed second in Mario Kart, Osamu conked out first.

"I swear, he sleeps like a fucking log," Atsumu says, watching you carefully set Osamu's head on your lap, patting his head gently.

Smiling softly, you carefully take the blanket you snuck and tucked him in, and yourself, too. Atsumu stood to turn off the console and the TV, filling the room in darkness. However, the glow from the moon outside was enough to illuminate the living room.

"You'll be heading off to Hiroshima, right?" he whispers, reaffirming the question thrown to you earlier that day, you nod. "Wow,” sitting next to you, on the edge of the sofa, he settles in. “big step."

"I figured that I'd like to open my horizon, have a new pace."

Atsumu remembered the peaceful look on your face when they had their class excursion there, smiling at the memory and a bit on the history of the city.

"Like a fresh new beginning, huh?"

Nodding, eyes beginning to droop, Atsumu carefully brings your head to his chest, falling back. "Like you...you'll be off to Osaka...for MSBY Black Jack'ls" you slur. "Osamu's staying here..."

Humming, he brushes away hair from your face, listening to your voice against Osamu's snores.

"You seem t'be doin' fine," he almost laughs at how thick your Kansai was when you were on the brink of sleep. "'ve always been." Taking an inhale, through your exhale you say, "you don't need me, Atsumu, you never have." and then you slipped off to sleep.

How he envied the friendship you had with Osamu, the one thing that connected you both in the first place. Taking your left hand in his, fingers slotting together, scarred fingers touching against each other, he noses at your forehead, lips a hairsbreadth away from your skin.

“Oh, you have no idea just how wrong you are, (Y/N).” lips pressed the lightest kiss, the moon and the stars as his witness. “I’ll always need you.”

You must've heard him in your sleep, because you were smiling, adorably. It was the last sight he saw before Atsumu slipped off, as well.

Dawn broke out slowly, as it always did in Hyogo, light streaming, searching almost for signs of life in the living room. With the sun slowly making its way up, light follows upwards, eventually finding three bodies knocked out in the living room - sleeping rather awkwardly with two boys sandwiching a girl, peaceful, lost in silence. Somewhat, it was a familiar sight.

Waking up to the smell of breakfast, Atsumu woke with a start, blinking wearily as he took in his surroundings. Right, he snuck out with Osamu and stayed over at the (L/N)’s.

Lifting his head, a ghost of a smile found its way on his face when a mop of (h/c) came to view, your hand still in his. Strands of hair littered your face, which he quickly swept away, causing you to stir.

"Good morning, sleepyheads!" a cheery voice greeted from the kitchen. "Hope you like pancakes!"

Fresh out of bed, with her hair in a messy bun with an apron on was Mika, she looked pretty, adorable even. Atsumu should've been happy by the sight of this, captivated even. But he felt nothing.

At the mention of pancakes, Osamu sleepily lifts his head, in alert, eyes still pinched close. Slowly, you rose from Atsumu’s chest, having used it as a pillow last night, rubbing at your eyes.

“Mornin’ (Y/N),” he laughs.

Blinking your eyes open, with the sight of Atsumu in front of you, between his legs, realizing your sleeping position from last night, instantly your face heated, darkened. “A-Atsumu! A-Ah…Um…G-Good morning…” folding his legs back, he did a stretch, Osamu slowly coming to beside you. “Did you sleep well? Does your neck hurt? Your back?”

Your concern was honestly adorable – like your morning self, it made his heart warm.

“No worries, I slept great!”

True to his word, the rest of the morning went swimmingly over heaps of pancake and another selfie.

“I fear you’ll be taking after your mother in that aspect.”

“Wow, selfie whore.”

“SHUT IT, ‘SAMU!”

After breakfast, the twins had to head back home, to greet their grandparents while you started packing. When lunch came, the twins were back – freshly changed and all. At the sight of them, your mom couldn’t help gushing that ‘it takes me back!’ to which your uncle laughed at heartily, welcoming the boys in before they both left for work.

“Oi, Kaoru what’re you doing?” Osamu asked, watching how as your brother stood on a dining chair he grabbed, pushed it against the wall as he reached up, tying something by the window.

Squinting, you asked. “Is…that a teru teru bozu?”

“Yep!” he smiled, letting the doll face outside, getting another balled-up doll from his pocket. “Nee-san’s birthday’s in a few days, don’t want it to rain then!”

“Kaoru, aren’t you a little too old for superstitions?”

“I’m only 13!”

“Yes, but there’s no scientific proof that they prevent rain from coming. Plus, it’s spring, it’s not so hot of a season for rain to fall.”

Miffed by your explanation, he turned, nearly toppling over had he not righted himself quickly. “You don’t know that, nee-san!” Kaoru hopped off the chair, pouting at you.

“Yeah, what the brother boy said!” Atsumu seconded.

“Better safe than sorry!”

You could only sip on your drink in reply, hiding the smile. Osamu gave you a funny look, amused.

“Plus, it has to be sunny on nee-san’s birthday! We’re going to-“ before Kaoru could finish, Mika appeared, slapping a hand on his mouth.

“Hey, how about I make us pasta for lunch?”

Instantly, Kaoru’s face brightened. “Yay, pasta!”

“By the way, (Y/N),” she calls to you. “Reiki’s coming over with the pizza you like that his friend makes, the spinach one and garlic shrimp?”

At the mention of the aforementioned pizzas, your lips quickly quirk up. It was so hard to find those specific flavors around Kobe, the last time you had them was probably before Mika left. Thankfully, Reiki, being the social butterfly that he was, knew a lot of people.

“Your boyfriend has my many thanks,”

Mika laughs, making you realize a little too late on the words that left your mouth. Sliding your eyes to Atsumu, you were surprised to find that he seemed relatively fine, cordial even.

When Reiki came with the pizzas later, pasta ready and waiting, you all feasted, but not before Atsumu insisted on a selfie with everyone.

“I swear, you’re turning to Ma and it’s scaring me,” Osamu tells his brother with a disgusted frown.

“Watch your mouth, ‘Samu that’s still our Ma!” Atsumu angrily bites off his pizza. “Is it so wrong to capture moments frozen in time!?”

“Wow, that was a rather poetic way of saying it,” you noted, nodding your thanks at Reiki would gave you two slices each of the pizzas.

“Come on now, let’s not fight!” Reiki says calmly, undeterred by the twins. “Let’s just eat, yeah?”

A long-distance relationship seemed to work fine for your sister and Reiki. Clearly, distance makes the heart fonder with how lovey-dovey they seemed. A peek over at Atsumu, and you’d half-expect him to go batshit crazy. But no. If anything, he seemed perfectly fine.

“Atsumu, do you have a minute?”

As Atsumu walked off with your sister, you could only watch, lips quirking into a smile. For some reason, you felt fine with that, too.

It was probably when they first moved to Hyogo that Atsumu’s eyes fell to Mika, the ever-smiling, ever-kind oldest daughter. There were plenty of reasons to like her: she was pleasant, polite, pretty, smart, athletic, and kind. For years, Atsumu has always set her as his standard for his ideal woman, even assured himself that he was at her level (which shouldn’t be so hard, thanks to his genetics).

For the first time in the forever, he thought of finally confessing to her his feelings, that chance that he’s waiting for so long.

And yet, as the two enter the backyard, the door sliding shut behind him, Atsumu turns to Mika, with a question that’s been burning on to the back of his head for a while now.

"Why did you do it?"

"Huh?" Mika looks up in surprise, letting go of the door handle.

"Why'd you to talk to him?" Atsumu felt his patience running thin, anger building.

Mika's perfect face falls into confusion, exposing the cracks underneath. This was clearly not what she intended to talk about, but Atsumu didn’t care, he was leading this conversation now. Honestly, it feels like he’s finally seeing her for who she really is – for the first time, the rosy lenses he had of her were torn away.

Him, being their dad.

Pressing her lips together, a fist to her mouth, contemplating on her response. "...I just...I wanted..."

"A connection?" he finishes for her, an educated guess.

Mika nodded. "He's still my dad, you know? I just thought...I could get to know him..."

"And that hurt (Y/N) in the process," Atsumu threw out, rather impatiently, almost accusingly. "did you know that?"

Pain crosses over her face, bleeding through from her eyes down to the upturn of her lips, hands fisting on her chest.

"Maybe you wanted a relationship with him,” shaking his head, he thinks of you “but not (Y/N)." Of all his memories with you, one where he's caught your eyes on their dad, feeling his stomach twist at the longing in your eyes, hurt him the most. You may have had your uncle, but having your own father was a different thing. You told him that Mika was studying psychology, he couldn’t help but think how ironic that was.

"I'm not perfect, Atsumu."

Atsumu scoffed. "Don't I know that?"

He was an older sibling himself. Older by five minutes, he was still regarded as the oldest, has as much responsibility despite that minute difference.

"Older siblings aren't perfect," Mika says. "We make mistakes, we hurt people, even our siblings." She very clearly wanted to discuss something else, something that clearly wasn’t this. But now that Atsumu’s taken control, she felt herself lose rights.

"Did you tell him about our graduation?"

Mika fell silent, mouth pulled into a line.

That was enough of an answer.

Atsumu tried to imagine how the young you must have felt, the horrors you had to face, to witness, how your young, impressionable mind just paused and came to a screeching halt, to a horrible realization of how fucked up everything was now - he could only feel immeasurable pain, choking him. When that happened, did it also take away the life and spark in your eyes? The joy of life?

He loved his dad very much, his dad was one of the best men in his life who always encouraged him and Osamu to pursue their dreams, always at the frontline for them, and loved his whole family. Had he done what your dad did, he would also feel just as crushed. What he did was inexcusable – to you, to Mika, to your brother, to your mom. Scums like him didn't deserve a second chance.

"I can't believe you did that."

Without waiting for her to reply, Atsumu walked back inside the house, back to where his brother and you were.

Late at night, you stare up at the ceiling, hugging ‘Inari’ – the fox plushie given to you by the trouble children – close to your chest. Mind filled with thoughts, just swimming over you.

Earlier, Atsumu had walked back in the house, the same worrying smile from a few days ago, eyes losing its usual luster. Yet, he assured you that it was nothing, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Mika then walked back in the house, all smiles – but even she had a weary looking smile. Before you could approach her, Reiki rushed to her side and the two scurried to the kitchen. Thankfully, Kaoru, hadn’t picked up on this, busy trying to beat his two nii-sans in Smash.

Shifting your head to the side, to where Mika’s bed was, your sister was dead to the world, deep in her slumber – peaceful and calm. Lifting yourself from your bed, covers dropping, ever so carefully you dropped your feet to the cold floor. Still hugging Inari, you walked away from your bed and to one of the boxes, staring at the contents – some books, stationary.

Bending down, you dig through, careful not to make a sound. From the box, you pulled out a wooden picture frame, hand painted blue, with sunflowers sticking on the top left, a few petals on the upper and lower. And in frame was the photo of the Inarizaki Volleyball Club. It was taken the moment everyone returned from Tokyo. Smiling fondly, fingers smoothed over the sunflowers, taking in everyone’s smiles.

At the center of the photo was you, sandwiched between Atsumu and Osamu, wearing wide grins. When your juniors handed you the frame, you were so sure you’d break out then and there. But it didn’t end there, because Coach Kurosu – tears spilling down his face, gave you his gift, too. Gently setting Inari down, frame sitting next to him, you plucked a small, thick, black cloth.

Sitting crossed legged, you opened it up, smiling at the familiar kanji of the club’s motto.

‘We Don’t Need Memories’

“Such a powerful statement,” you whisper into the silence.

Kita once shared that he wasn’t a fan of the motto – being a man brought by the small things, on how doing the minimum on a daily basis is already enough of an assurance for any needless worries. Yet, it fires him up when he’s up with his team mates.

Coach Kurosu also mentioned, overly fond of the motto, that nothing should ever hold you back from the challenges that life will hurl at you.

Smoothing over the smooth kanji characters, a wave of memories rushed over you – first stepping into the gym, applying as manager the same time the twins had their try-outs, introducing yourself as manager before the twins engulfed you into a hug, seeing Aran again, meeting Kita and the rest of your seniors, meeting Suna, Ginjima, and the rest of the team, being there when the twins got their jerseys, their first official match, making your way to nationals, the twins debuting their dyed hairs, the incident, Kita’s captaincy, him berating you for resigning and convincing you to stay, the painful and cold second year, walking out during preliminaries, breaking down in the club room, having to tell Atsumu he was chosen for the Youth Camp, meeting Sho-chan at nationals, resigning only to be brought back, arcades with the trouble children, sunflowers given by the juniors on your birthday, training in Asano and Yoshimichi, training the new recruits, warmer days in the club, nationals with with Sho-chan, smacking Atsumu in the face, the retirement and turning over, graduation – so many great memories, good and bad. They were definitely the time of your life, if not, the greatest. A chapter that’s come to a close, but filled with so many turning points.

Patting the banner affectionately, a single tear slips down your face, landing on the banner, what a deep tangent you’ve found yourself in.

March 23, your birthday.

It fell on a Sunday, on a perfect sun shiny day, just as your family had expected.

On your birthday, it was decided that it would be spent at Sunflower Hill Park at Ono. Seeing as it was a special day, everyone had to dress their best – you included, being the birthday girl. Mika immediately busied herself prettying you up, even getting you to finally wear the dress that Kita had gifted you sometime back. It’s been gathering dust in the closet since he gave it, unsure on when to wear it.

“It’s just my birthday,” you grumbled, Mika immediately shushing you busily brushing your hair aside to work on your eyes, her face pinched into concentration.

“It’s not ‘just your birthday’, (Y/N).” she says, lighting brushing over your eyes. Setting down her eyeshadow palette, she picks up a blush set, instructing you to smile, exposing your dimples.

“19,” you say aloud, announcing to the world freely. “I’m at the peak of my adulthood.”

“You know, you’ve always been an adult all your life.” Mika teases, brush circling your dimples. “But that doesn’t mean you should be down on your birthday.”

“Studies show that it’s only natural to have birthday disappointments the older you get.” You rebuke, watching her frown cutely, setting her blush down, brandishing a mascara in her hand.

“And studies also show that you don’t always have to have that kind of mindset,” she rebukes back, twirling her mascara madly before taking out the wand. “Open your eyes and look up.”

Gulping, you do as she says, feeling the wand passing down your lashes.

“Birthday disappointments can also be stemmed from high expectations – either from childhood or from adolescence. And here’s the hard truth: you actually want to celebrate your birthday, but you just don’t know how to tell people.”

Capping her mascara, she instructs you to close your eyes, which you do, before you’re assaulted with a mist-like spray all over your face. When she tells you to open, you find yourself staring at yourself in the mirror – struck at the person staring back at you. Mika did a great job, highlighting your features, brightening your whole face, it was easy to see now the resemblance between you two.

“We’re not mind readers, (Y/N), we’re your family. And because we love you, we want to celebrate the day you came to bless our lives,” Mika smiles, smoothing your hair.

Helping you put on your dress, even lending you her sandals, she added some finishing touches like earrings and a sun brim hat.

“I look like those stereotypical animes shown in the summer.” You comment about your reflection in the mirror, to which Mika rolls her eyes at.

“Would you stop, you look beautiful!”

Taking her words with a grain of salt – seeing how pretty she was in her own dress, you smiled and the two of you walk out the room.

“Are you two done, now- Ah, how pretty!” coos your mother, pressing her hands to her mouth, eyes watering.

“Mom, you’re being dramatic-“

“My girls are so pretty! Especially the birthday girl!”

Beside you, Mika looks pleased with herself, especially at her work.

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” says your mom, taking your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

Swallowing down hard, fighting off tears that have strangely formed, you smile at her. “Thanks mom.”

“Alright, let’s go down now! Everyone’s waiting for us!”

Anxiety rose up, heart in your chest as you three descended the stairs, where you could hear people chatting about in the living room. Everyone was there – your uncle, Kaoru, Reiki, the Miyas, even the twins. It was Atsumu who saw you first, doing a double take, taking you in.

And then his mom squealed at the sight of you. “Ah!!!!! (Y/N)-chan, you look so pretty!” everyone turns to you, much to your horror. “Happy birthday, sweet girl!” she says.

“…thank you, Auntie.” Your voice was quiet, raspy.

Being the center of attention, everyone’s smiles on you was unnerving.

Self-consciously, you duck under their gazes, face burning.

To your surprise, your family had long planned this together with the Miyas. What made it extra special was the fact that it was just days after the three of you graduated and of Mika’s return. An outing of two families, in a field of little suns spread across the field.

At the sight of tall, bright yellow and brown flowers, your eyes sparkled in child-like wonder. Sensing your excitement, Mika, with her uncle’s camera slung around her neck, hooked her arm around yours, giggling and pulling you further in the park, leaving Atsumu and the rest to follow after.

The adults were discussing amongst themselves, discussing where they should set up, Reiki happily stuck around them, ever ready to help around, while Kaoru was running off to join his sisters. Alone with his brother, Osamu elbows him.

"Is something wrong with you and Mika-nee?" Osamu asks him, feeling the breeze against his skin.

On the way to Ono, with the twins, you, Mika, and Reiki, in Reiki’s car, there was a noticeable avoidance between Atsumu and Mika. However, the two easily played it off. Mika was busy chatting up with her boyfriend, Atsumu looked over your shoulder, as you answered birthday greetings.

Even way before that, the two of them were masterful in their way of seeming fine, but when they interacted, it felt rather stiff.

Sighing, Atsumu’s eyes found Kaoru, who was giggling as Mika was getting you to pose in front of flowers, you, clearly embarrassed, tried to talk your way out of it.

"I confronted her about their dad," Atsumu grumbles, hands in his pocket. Eventually, you caved in your sister’s whims, posing demurely, before Kaoru cheered you to try other poses.

Osamu's eyes widened. "Are you an idiot!? Why would you-"

"Did you know that she also told him about our graduation?"

Osamu stopped at that, at its implication, their eyes going to the older (L/N) sister, showing the photos to you.

"Damn."

"I know. Pretty shitty of her."

"Wow, 'Tsumu badmouthing Mika-nee, that's new."

Scoffing, he lifted his head to meet his brother’s. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Shrugging easily, Osamu explains, as their parents walk southward into the park, where an open area for picnic was. "Almost a year ago, you were nothing but praises for her, wouldn’t shut up about her on and on and on.” Breathing out a laugh, he shakes his head when he adds. “Heck, even if she farted you'd think it was cute."

Atsumu's face wrinkles, cringes. "That was before."

“Still,” walking ahead, he stares his brother down, feeling a chill run down his spine. “you never let us forget. Never let (Y/N) forget that.”

Up ahead, the (L/N) siblings were soon joined by Reiki, who took the camera from Mika, opting to take photos of the siblings. (Y/N), who was sandwiched between her older and younger sibling, all smiles for the camera.

“A year ago, it was as though your mission was to make (Y/N) feel so shitty about yourself, all because of your stupid little crush. It took her finally deciding to leave for you to snap out of it.”

Swallowing thickly, Atsumu vaguely remembered that moment of panic, like something had clawed into his chest. Immediately, he feels a sense of shame – for everything he had done to you.

"'Tsumu, you realize that you never said you're sorry to (Y/N), right?"

The hardest pill to swallow was realizing that despite the year he’s had, devoted to making up to you, it just wasn’t enough. Actions may speak louder than words, but just saying those words were just as important. Especially because it was worth noting that, sometimes, Atsumu’s actions can be contradicting to his words and may confuse you. You, who’s suffered quietly all this time, who forced themselves to power through, who unselfishly put others before yourself.

“I’m way past that now,” determination was thick in his tone, strong in his words.

Osamu felt proud to see it, loved to see it. They were nearing their parents – who finally found a nice picnic spot, just right next to the playground hustle.

"Didn't you say that Mika-nee was your one true love?" he couldn’t help but say, egging on his brother, never letting him down on his fuck up.

Osamu nearly fell back as Atsumu tackled him, slapping a hand to his mouth, lest anyone heard it. "KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, SHITTY 'SAMU!"

"Wasn't she though!?"

"I was a kid!" he reasoned out. "I didn't know shit!"

"Clearly still don't now!" Osamu yelled slapping his brother's hand away from his face.

"FUCK YOU!"

"Now, now, Atsumu, Osamu, no fighting on (Y/N)'s special day!" calls their dad, hands on his hips. Beside him was their mom, smiling as she took photos of the sunflowers all around them.

"Oh, oh, oh, sweetie, let's take a photo with the birthday girl!" hooking her arm around her husband's she didn't give him time to back out before dragging him with her, smiling sweetly at her sons. "And no fighting, Atsumu, Osamu, it's a special day!"

Speaking of special day, Atsumu’s eyes turned to the fields, where you were – feeling his heart settle at your familiar frame, your gentle expression as you gazed at the vibrant yellow sunflowers. He remembered that field trip when they were younger, remembered where your eyes were staring, dug through the display when no one was looking and snuck it in his bag, feeling giddy all over, remembered the smile that came to your face.

It was brighter than any of the sunflowers.

Under the clear blue skies, the sun was shining bright, smiling down on everyone – especially a particular group down at Ono Sunflower Hill Park, circling a girl dressed in white, balloons in hands, all wearing smiles as they sang to greet her.

Their singing echoed out in the field, the wind carrying on their love for the girl in the middle, the girl whose heart was just filled with love with everyone around her.

A simple white cake, decorated in the same flowers that surrounded them was presented to her, and a single candle stood alit, waiting.

When the singing dwindled down, the girl stared at her cake, closed her eyes, and then blew.

She was now 19.

What a lovely day to be loved, feel loved, and be celebrated by love.

Emboldened by his talk with Osamu, brought also by epiphany, Atsumu finds himself carefully approaching Mika.

“Mika-nee, can we talk?”

Reiki, having sensed the mood, excused himself, but not before kissing his girlfriend on the forehead and taking Kaoru with him away from the playground.

Squirming under his gaze, remembering his blow-up on her days before, she fixes him a pleading look. "Atsumu, look, I don't want to fight with you-"

"I'm not sorry for blowing up on you like that, Mika-nee.” He starts, meaning every word. “But I am sorry for intruding into your family business. I just care for (Y/N), she's..." he swallows thickly. "she's been through so much."

Mika’s expression softens, eyes shining. "You really care a great deal about (Y/N), huh?"

“Always have, always will.”

“I’m glad.”

Mika smiles sweetly at him, fiddling with her hands. “It’s just…he’s still my dad, what he did was unforgivable, but the idea of reconnecting with him,” she sniffles, wiping a tear. “how could I not? And then I thought, that maybe (Y/N) would be on board with the idea…” she shakes her head, laughing incredulously. “Clearly, I forgot that I can’t force it on her, can’t fix the trauma he did.” Her face pinches, pained and regret.

The old Atsumu would have rushed and comforted her, assured her that she did great. Emphasis on the old, the Atsumu now just stared, letting her wallow on her mistake.

Covering her face, she groaned into it, before fixing herself up, slapping her cheeks together. “Wooh! How embarrassing of me! Looks like I’ve got a long way to go!” she laughs. Atsumu can’t help but laugh with her.

Even now, her ability to smile through the pain, shoulder her burdens, amazes him. There was a reason he admired this young woman before him, but seeing her open up to her flaws made him admire her even more.

And then he felt it, the urge, something clawing at his chest, words that needed to be said.

“Mika-nee, actually,” the older girl looks up at him, waits patiently. “I…I like you.” Back when he was younger, he had envisioned the perfect confession – something almost like this, with the sun setting behind them, painting them in the afterglow. That was one of his two options for confessing, the other being in the letter he poured his heart in, with your help. “I liked you, Mika-nee.”

It feels freeing to finally say that, to let the person know how much they meant to them. Even if it were no longer the case.

She smiles, sweetly again. “I know.”

Atsumu looks up at her, surprised. Mika’s smile remains.

“E-Eh?”

“I received your letter,” his eyes widen, confusion crawling over. “(Y/N) snuck it into my things before I left for the Netherlands.”

You did that for him? You.

Looking back, his eyes could only widen, realizing that it had been during the incident. Atsumu is assaulted with guilt all over again, brought by your unselfishness, just unsure with what he could say.

“I always thought that it would be the two of you, you know? You three were thick as thieves, enough to rival the three musketeers. But you and (Y/N)? I always felt like there was a great bond between you two.”

“N-Nee-san…actually…I-“ Everything he did to you in the year following the incident came to mind, his self-hate rising, Mika deserved to know.

Instead, she gently shakes her head. “It’s not me you should be telling that to, Atsumu. It’s (Y/N).” taking his arm in her hand, she cups his chin, (e/c) eyes meeting his honey browns, smiling and squeezing on to him arm encouragingly. “Go.”

Coming to, he nods and quickly starts running. Before fully leaving the playground, Mika calls him. “Oh, and Atsumu? Thank you so much for your feelings!”

“Osamu,”

“Hm?”

“Remember when you told me about your first love?”

“…yeah.” He sighs, heavily. “The umeboshi to my onigiri.”

“That’s a funny analogy,” with your arm over his, you leaned against his shoulder as the two of you walked along the pat. “but very fitting for someone you love.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. What’s yours?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you look to the field.

“Ah, yes.” Osamu nods, following your gaze. “Sunflowers.”

Leaning against his arm, you murmur. “…he’s my sunflower, Osamu.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything for a while, watching how Kaoru and Reiki raced beside them. Two people missing from their group. “I know he is.”

“And you’re my chicken noodle soup.”

He snorts, looking down at you. “Why?”

“It’s my comfort food, remember? Also, you’re my best friend. You should feel honored.”

“Strange analogy you got there.” He waves at his grandparents, enjoying themselves watch the children play in the fountains.

“Not as strange as your umeboshi and onigiri,” you remind him, teasingly.

Rolling his eyes at that, he can’t deny the gentleness of your voice, its weight and wistfulness.

“Thanks for being my best friend, Osamu.”

Patting his hand over yours, he replies. “Always.”

Breaking away, you smile gratefully at him. He lets you walk off from him, taking a new path.

“Stop sounding like you’re about to die, (Y/N). S’not funny.”

Laughing, you could only tuck your hands behind you. “I’m just feeling nostalgic!”

“Where’re you going?”

“For a walk!”

“Geez, aren’t you tired of walking?”

“Nope,” and you walk further in the new path, Osamu watches you go, but doesn’t follow.

With all his heart, he wishes, for your birthday, all the best for you. Keeping his eyes on white, it slowly shrinks as you walk further and further, away and away, until you were out of sight.

Huffing and puffing, he looked around wildly, searching for (h/c) in a white dress. Atsumu almost cursed at how big of an area the park was, felt pathetic that he was winded out after some runs – he was a fucking athlete, god damn it! About to join a pro-fucking-league-

"Are you looking for someone?" a voice asked him, turning, Atsumu nearly sagged in relief when he found who he was looking for.

You.

"You," he says breathlessly, lips stretched into a wide smile.

Your face scrunched into a light frown, wondering, before producing a handkerchief in your hands, patting his sweaty face. “Have you been running around the park?”

“Nah, just now.” Your frown softens a bit. “Like I said, I was looking for you.”

Tilting your head to the side, confused, you asked. “Why?”

Atsumu opened his mouth, only to stop, realization getting the best of him. Shiiiiiiit.

Suddenly shy, he laughed it off, nervously, uncaring that people were looking at him funny. Concerned washed over your features, which warmed him from the inside, especially with you looking at him all pretty like that. But heck, even without the makeup, you were something else.

“Come on,” you opened a hand to him, an invitation.

Atsumu stared at it, at the scar on your middle finger. Placing his in yours, his larger hand over yours, the two of you began to walk hand-in-hand. You took him by the fields, deep in, as though to hide you amongst the flowers, to be one with them, to a secret place for you both.

For all his life, he couldn’t imagine having to miss out on the feeling, like everything he’s known his whole life is nothing compared to the bright, vibrant yellows and browns around him, in the girl dressed in white, leading him through. And he let you.

How is it that he’s never noticed? Why had he never thought of seeing you? It feels as though he’s led a life blind.

With a tug, the two of you exit the field and into a clearing, all Atsumu can focus on was your smile.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you laugh, walking a few steps to the path. “walking across a sunflower field, I mean.”

Atsumu can’t keep his eyes off your smile, even as the both of you sit on the grass, facing the famed 'Sunflower Tower' made of Mikage granite.

The two of you found yourselves in your little hideaway, with nothing but the sky, the sun, the flowers, and the tower, and of course, each other.

“Sounds like something fresh outta a fairy tale,”

Nodding, you fold your legs, drawing your knees near. “Sunflowers are quite tall, after all. Tall and tough flowers.”

“Like me?”

Laughing, your turn to him, staring at him for a while. “Maybe. Especially with your blond dye.”

At the mention of his hair, he runs a hand through it. “…I’m, uh, thinking of keeping it.”

“You should,” your eyes follow his hands carding through his hair, dark roots slowly showing through. “it’ll be your signature look.”

Running a hand through the back of his hair, he fists them there, unable to look away from you.

You.

Amazing, smart, patient, kind, selfless, beautiful you.

“(Y/N)…” your name came easy through his mouth.

Tilting your head, letting strands of hair slip off your shoulders, you parrot back, “Atsumu…”

Just when did everything seem to feel different between you two? And just how long had he missed the way you look bathed in the sunlight?

Fidgeting a little, Atsumu could feel his strength leave him, being at the receiving end of your gaze. However, looking up, he also draws strength from them.

“I, uh, I kept them,” at your frowned confusion, he shyly – oh so quietly, adds, “your letters.”

Immediately, your face burns, feeling goosebumps run all over your spine. “Ugh,” slapping your hands over your eyes, you wish you could also slap the cringe away. “why.”

Atsumu smiles, despite your apparent horror, shrugging easily.

“It’s a reminder, I guess. A reminder that someone actually liked me. Genuinely and truly. Thought of me. Appreciated me. Written and practically poured her heart out in paper, when it’s the fucking twenty first century. Living proof that someone did that for me, but I was the asshole who humiliated her for something so genuine and heartfelt.”

You would’ve argued then and there, having seen the many love letters he and his brother received from his fan club over the years. And yet, the only one he recognizes are yours.

“Atsumu,” words were failing you, so you just sighed. “that’s behind us now.”

But the look on his face wouldn’t go away, eyes darkening – a dangerous storm brewing, festering.

"You can't return my feelings,” you say kindly. “that's not your fault neither is it your problem."

"Y-Yeah, but I could at least try to-"

"Atsumu, stop. Just, stop.” Turning to him, you take his hand in yours – the one with a scar, fingers rubbing comfortingly. “Please.” You’ve thought about it for a while, a long while, it needed to be said. “I'm not going to force you to like me back, it's not right and it's just wrong. Just because I liked you doesn't mean you're obligated to return my feelings when you clearly don't like me like that. That's that."

"B-But-"

"Besides, I've already accepted it – that my feelings can't reach you." swallowing down it all - the heartache and pain, you lifted your gaze and offered a smile. "If all you're worried about is me forgiving you, rest assured that I have."

"But I don't deserve your forgiveness!" he all but screams, shocking you, his eyes were wet and filled with so much remorse, pain, helplessness, and regret. "I've been an ass to you, (Y/N)! I hurt you while you were already hurting," he remembered having to listen to your cries, muffled behind your hands, the forced smiles, the pained look in your eyes, your back turned to him, his panic of not being able to find you during practice. The realization of the distance between both of you because of him. "I walked around you even though you were breaking from the inside. I might as well be worse than your deadbeat, asshole of a father because I wasn't there for you. I hurt you just as he did! I failed you! I-I-"

A gentle hand touched his elbow, shaking him, he looks up, meeting your kind (e/c) gaze. And that smile, that same kind smile that stretched to your eyes, reflecting an oh so loving gaze he knew he didn't deserve. Even without saying a word, you understood everything he wanted to say, all the sorries that's been resting on his tongue, heavy with the weight of his sins, of the burdens of hurting you, of the love he's had and continue to have for you.

He didn't deserve you.

You didn't deserve him.

But you both loved each other just as much.

"(Y-Y/N)," his voice was barely a whisper, wet and croaking. "I'm so sorry...!"

Enveloping you into a hug, he cries into your shoulder, repeatedly saying “I’m sorry” over and over again.

And you just hold him, caressing his head with your other hand.

“I’ll always love you, Atsumu,” your confession just tore at him, tears leaking more. “you will always be my first love, and that will never change.”

Atsumu hugs you tighter, cries harder. “I love you, too.”

When you let go, there was a smile on your face – a radiant, bright, reflected in your eyes that it brightened up your whole face. Like a sunflower greeting the sun, Atsumu found himself smiling, too. Released from the embrace, in his eyes, he feels his heart fill with a bittersweet sense of warmth and twinge.

Despite it all, it still felt good. It felt really good. Talking to you, settling things with you, loving you – it felt right.

Certain people come into our lives whether we like it or not, and you were no exception.

Sadly, just because you came into their life doesn’t automatically guarantee that they’ll stay with you forever. You can only have them for a time.

One of them may end up as your first love, but it's not guaranteed that they will be your last. They'll be just that - your first love, the first person you offered your heart to, but not the person who gets to keep it.

You were his forever person, the first love he realized too late.

end.

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