#their name is brown sugarcoat say hi to them :] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twoidiotwriters1 · 7 months

Text

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Obsessed with the way brown eyes look with the sunlight -Danny Words: 2,230 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Wonder' -by Shawn Mendes

XX: My Fiance Threatens to Set Us on Fire

I walk through the camp's forest until I run into Janus standing against a limestone wall, moving his keys from one hand to the other.

"Are you lost, girl?"

I eye them carefully. "Why are you in my dream?"

"We should be asking you that," the left head responds.

"Are you torn?" Asks the other. "If you are..."

"We'll get to know each other," Left grins.

"Or maybe not... she's seen enough to know better."

"Bah! Heroes never learn!" Leftie sneers. "Especially the siblings of Eros..."

"We'll meet again, Arae Jackson," Janus says in unison.

Jason leans closer to the window. "What is that?"

"Where?"

"That road, the one that goes through the hills."

Piper seizes the headset and asks the pilot. "She says it's Highway 24. That's the Caldecott Tunnel. Why?"

Jason glares at the road. Ara tries to lean forward to look, but as she does, Leo scolds her again. "Seriously, stop that!"

"Fine!" She barks. "Gods, you're worse than Lily and—!" Her tongue freezes on its own. Leo glances at her with a little pout, she's got the feeling he knows what name she was about to say, but that's impossible.

"We're a team, right?" He says after a moment. "I'm allowed to boss you around sometimes."

Ara scowls. "I have the feeling you'll abuse that power."

He smirks. "For your own good, ya know?"

"The crazy thing is I truly believe that you'd do it to help me," the girl snorts. "And I've been thinking about what your dad told you... us partnering up. He told me that too when I met him, I just... I didn't remember until you brought it up."

That is a lie, of course. She never forgot, and now she knows for sure he's the Hephaestus kid she's meant to help, but she's trying to ignore it, her feelings aren't leading to a platonic partnership and that's worrisome at best.

"What did he tell you?" Leo sighs. "That you need to be patient 'cause I'm always messing up?"

Ara makes a face. "He didn't like me."

The first time I saw Hephaestus I remember thinking: "Poor guy!"

Now, what I'm thinking is: "Please, don't step on me!"—Which seems to catch his attention, cause he pauses to examine my tiny form.

"You're an Aphrodite."

"Your children teach me stuff," I blurt out in awe.

He squints as if he's having trouble discerning my face. "Arae Jackson," The god scoffs. "I wouldn't've chosen you."

I'm not expecting him to pay any compliments, but he could've kept those thoughts to himself! I mean, I like the guy! But he's just blunt, I think. Not a good trait when talking to someone who tends to sugarcoat everything she says.

"Ara's a good trainee!" Percy argues right away.

"We'll see about that," the god grunts.

"I—I have to get my dad home. I'm sorry, guys."

If Piper leaves, Leo and Jason are the only ones left capable of finishing the quest. The boy with amnesia, and the rookie with no training. Both weaponless.

"Oh," Leo speaks quietly. "I mean, absolutely. He needs you right now. We can take it from here."

"Pipes, no," Tristan manages to stand. "You have a mission. A quest. I can't—"

"I'll take care of him," Hedge steps in.

Piper hesitates. "You?"

"I'm a protector," the satyr shrugs. "That's my job, not fighting." He fixes his posture as soon as he says that. "Of course, I'm good at fighting, too."

"Yes."

"Terrifying."

"I learned it all from you," Ara nods.

"But I'm a protector, and I can do this," Hedge continues. "Your dad's right, Piper. You need to carry on with the quest."

"But... Dad..."

Tristan hugs his daughter, and Jason guides Ara and Leo away. "Let's give them a minute..."

Hedge goes with the ranger to bring Tristan's plane to where they are. Ara starts to feel an itch on her left shoulder and winces.

"What's wrong?" Jason nods at her arm.

"Itchy," Ara grimaces. "But I can't scratch myself 'cause Mr. First-aid Valdez forbade me from squirming around."

"Since when do you listen to him?" Jason's amused by her statement. "And who appointed you as our caretaker, Leo?"

"She almost lost an arm saving your ass," Leo raises a brow and shrugs. "If she can multitask why can't I?"

Jason grins. "Well, the itch might be good, your arm might be getting some feeling back, Ara."

"I won't know for sure until I get it checked by a professional."

"By professional you mean an immortal fifteen-year-old?" Leo taunts her.

"Or an Apollo camper."

"Teenagers," Leo continues with a straight face. "That you trust blindly."

"I would trust any demigod with my life," the gravity with which she says it makes Leo feel like he's insulted her entire lineage.

Hedge hurries past them when Tristan faints. "Got him," he sits him upright. "I already asked our ranger friend to call up his plane. It's on the way now. Home address?"

"Everything's on here," Piper hands him the phone she fished out of her dad's pocket. "Address, his chauffeur's number. Just watch out for Jane."

"Who's Jane?"

Piper tells him about the assistant who's been brainwashed by Gaea, then the expensive and slick plane comes along, and it's time to say goodbye. Ara approaches the flight attendant and reaches for her compass.

"Hold this, please," the girl sets the object on the woman's hand.

"Oh my god!" The lady gasps, looking at Tristan with wide eyes. "What—"

Ara snaps her fingers and starts talking, maintaining eye contact with the woman.

"This is Gleeson Hedge, Mr. McLean's personal trainer. This is top secret information, so we'll pay for your silence..." Piper hands her the money she got from Aphrodite. "Make sure no one sees Tristan leave the airport, and make sure no one wakes him until he's home, he gets cranky. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," the lady hurries to reply. "This way, gentlemen..."

Ara seizes the compass and puts it back in her pocket. At the boy's look of confusion, she points back with her thumb. "That's how you control the mist."

"Would you marry me?" Leo blurts out.

Hedge hugs Piper, and Ara attempts to lean down and do the same, but he stops her. "I know you're a big deal, but you better behave while I'm not here to keep an eye on you, alright? Make sure those hunters use top-tier cures apt for Olympians."

Ara chuckles, bumping fists with him. "You got it, Coach."

"You cupcakes take care of these girls, you hear? Or I'm gonna make you do push-ups."

"You got it, Coach," Leo grins, quoting Ara's words.

"No push-ups," Jason agrees.

"Thank you, Gleeson," Piper hugs him again. "Take care of him, please."

"I got this, McLean. They got root beer and veggie enchiladas on this flight, and one hundred percent linen napkins—yum! I could get used to this."

As they ensure the jet takes flight, Piper finally loosens up and starts crying. Jason hugs her. "Your dad's in good hands, you did amazing."

Ara pats the girl's head like Silena used to do with her. "You've done well. All I did during my first quest was keep a guy steady while my brother beheaded him—the guy was a monster," she explains when Jason looks at her horrified.

"And how old were you then?" Piper accepts the Kleenex Leo's offering.

"Ten," to everyone's surprise, Leo's the one who answers. "She was also ten when she fought the guy who got possessed by Kronos."

"He wasn't possessed by Kronos when I fought him," she specifies, "and I only threw an empty basket at—"

"You also threw a rock—"

"Wait, how long has it been since?" Jason frowns. "How old are you now, Ara?"

"She's fourteen, man," Leo responds.

"You're younger than all of us?" Jason asks in shock. "And you're the Strategus?"

"Seriously, how old do I look?" Ara frowns. "Your reactions are alarming—"

"Guys," Piper moves, pointing at something.

An iris message forms behind the blond boy's head.

"Thalia!" Jason gasps.

"Thank the gods," it sounds like there's a heated fight going on around her. "We've found her—Where are you?"

"Oakland. Where are you?"

"The Wolf House! Oakland is good; you're not too far. We're holding off the giant's minions, but we can't hold them forever. Get here before sunset, or it's all over."

"Then it's not too late?" Piper holds her breath.

"Not yet. But Jason—it's worse than I realized. Porphyrion is rising. Hurry."

Fighting a lesser giant almost sent Ara to the underworld (corporeal form included). She can't imagine what might happen if she's forced to fight the king of the bunch with a broken arm.

"But where is the Wolf House?"

"Our last trip—The park. Jack London. Remember?"

The message blurs into the air, and Jason stumbles back.

"Bro, you all right?" Leo holds him. "You know where she is?"

"That's the place where you saw your mother last, isn't it?" Ara guesses.

"I don't mind," the woman agrees.

"Yes. Sonoma Valley. Not far. Not by air."

"Ma'am," Piper smiles politely to the mortal ranger. "You don't mind helping us one more time, do you?"

"We can't take a mortal into battle," Jason stops her. "It's too dangerous. Do you think you could fly this thing?"

When he asks that, he's looking at Ara and Leo. Ara has journeyed in pegasus, hellhounds, motorbikes, chariots, a bronze dragon, and flying pigs—she's driven her father's Prius once or twice, but she's never flown a Helicopter.

Leo touches its surface and closes his eyes. "Bell 412HP utility helicopter—Composite four-blade main rotor, cruising speed twenty-two knots, service ceiling twenty-thousand feet. The tank is near full. Sure, I can fly it."

Ara stares at him with flushed cheeks. "Leo, if I live to turn eighteen, you can marry me."

Piper directs her attention to the ranger. "You don't have a problem with an under-aged unlicensed kid borrowing your copter, do you? We'll return it."

"I—I don't have a problem with that," the lady chokes out the sentence like it hurts her a little.

"Hop in, kids! Uncle Leo's gonna take you for a ride," he lets Jason and Piper climb in first, then he grins from ear to ear and offers his arm to Ara. "Would my beautiful fiancee like to copilot?"

Ara moves him out of the way. "I wouldn't miss the opportunity to sit at the front."

The girl puts on the headset to hear Leo over the noise, but he doesn't seem to need help, so she relaxes and enjoys the moment. She pulls out her compass again and her heart skips a beat.

"Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you see here?" She shows him the compass and Leo glances down at it, his hands doing their own thing without him paying attention.

"What's that?"

"Almighty," she stares at the object, "but it's never worked... as a compass, I mean. I think can read it now."

"You understand what those symbols are?" He looks up at her.

"Maybe," Ara tilts her head. "Hey, I know we don't have fuel to waste but just for science... can you turn to the left?" Leo obliges, and the moment he does the needle changes position. Ara swears in ancient Greek. "Nemo was right!"

"Who?"

"Percy!" She laughs. "He was right! It points to where I need to go..."

"That's cool!" Leo drives the chopper to its original path. "And a relief, I'm only eighty percent sure I know what I'm doing..."

"You're great," Ara's gaze is full of esteem. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in a while, I was so wrong about you."

Leo blushes at her statement, he scowls at the sunlight ahead. "Shut up."

"I mean it!"

"Ara," smoke starts rising from his head, "don't be nice to me or I'll set us on fire."

"Oh." She looks away, now also blushing. "Okay. Sorry."

After a while, the sun begins to set and it hurts Leo's eyes, so she searches their seats and finds a pair of aviator sunglasses. As soon as their fingers brush, his skin glows the same color as hers. Ara looks up and locks eyes with him for a moment.

His chocolate-brown eyes had never looked this breathtaking, it's been snowing hard since they left camp, so Ara didn't know he looked like this with the sunlight.

Leo mumbles a thank you and puts the sunglasses on, but that doesn't help Ara's increasing pace of her heart, he looks great with those too.

Grover feels the presence of Pan and decides to follow it, so Tyson goes with him. Percy wants me to go too, but I'm against it. Hephaestus gave us a mission, I want to change his mind about me not being a good choice.

I go with Percy and Annabeth, and that's how I discover my power, the one no one knows about.

My brother initiates a manhunt, and Annabeth scolds both of us. When Percy does something dumb I also get reprimanded, I have nothing to do with it, but I didn't stop him, so it's partially my fault cause Annabeth thinks I should know better.

The Telkhines have us cornered so Percy offers to be the distraction. Annabeth and I refuse, he insists, and that's when it happens.

There's a split second of nothing before I hear a buzz, like a lightbulb that takes ages to charge fully. A scarlet light blinds me and I think we've been attacked with some kind of magical dynamite, but I can't sense heat.

I cover my eyes, and when I look through my fingers, I discover it wasn't an explosion. Percy and Annabeth are kissing, and they're glowing. I yelp and cover my eyes entirely once more.

"Be careful, Seaweed brain."

My friend gets up and runs, but Percy and I look at each other without knowing what to do, he's still glowing like a stoplight. He blinks a few times with a dazzled expression.

"Ara, run!"

And I run.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

12 notes · View notes

wonderful-balan · 6 days

Text

Balan - Hellverse

There seem to be issues accessing mobile pages and the Google doc for Balan mobile: There are mobile pages if on chance the Google doc was inaccessible, here is a direct link and post with all the information available on the document.

Balan is the odd dramatic but mysterious maestro of Wonder Theater. He is quite charismatic and easy to like though it seems like he’s not always forthcoming with information to others. What could that grinning face be hiding?

Also known as

Bal

The Grinning Man

Gender: He/him / AFAB / Nonbinary Species: Angel Status: Alive

Appearance

Balan is a tall, lean humanoid man. He has large expressive bright yellow eyes that seemingly are a part of the red band on his hat. He has black skin a wide grin plastered on his face and teal loc-like hair. Balan also has teal, lock-like hair which can appear green in certain shots. He wears a black, red, purple, and gold magician’s shirt with a red ascot and a white vest, a black top hat that has a red mask-like hat band, long, black trousers with red accents, and gold and white trim/hues and black low heeled shoes. His chosen accessories are white gloves with gold, ring-like accents, and frilly red cuffs. While that is the form most see him in, that is a false form. His true, hatless form, which he assumes at the game’s climax, is a humanoid being He wears the same outfit and still has bright yellow eyes, the eyes take on a more human-like shape and have lavender-colored markings which could be compared to clown makeup. His teal hair is also more human-like but still in chin-length locs. He also lacks the grinning mouth that his false form had and has dark brown skin. He doesn’t like this appearance and prefers his hat form.

Personality

Balan is sometimes unpredictable, humorous, graceful, mysterious, and never tires of his audience. He can also be flamboyant and energetic. He hates repeating himself and he doesn’t like when people ask him a lot of questions. While he has a very showman-type personality, he is also very gentle, nurturing, and sweet. Balan is always there for the people who participate in his shows, he takes on a caring and gentle nature for those who need it. However, he doesn’t sugarcoat anything with people, he will tell people what they need to hear about themselves. Balan also holds strongly to his beliefs, as he adamantly refuses the idea that he could be corrupted and fall to hell. And most obvious of them all, Balan is very dramatic.

Personal Details

Born: Unknown Age: Unknown Height: 8’5” Hair: Light pale green Eyes: Yellow Occupation: Maestro of Balan Theater Parents: Unknown Spouse: Single

Likes:

Positivity

Theatre

Music and Dance

Dislikes:

Negativity

Hate

Being asked too many questions

Repeating himself.

Biography

Background

Balan is a seraphim angel from Heaven who enjoys helping others, including demons. He doesn’t believe in discriminating against others. The theatre he runs is there to help others—a way to express themselves and discover themselves. The physical theater itself acts as a way to Balan’s realm and home. Balan has been around for about a few thousand years and can’t exactly remember when or why he was made. He just knows that he was made in the image of another angel named Lance. Lance is a fallen angel in Hell, whom Balan believes he can help and even possibly understand more about himself. Lance however wants nothing to do with his supposed other half as he feels replaced by him. Balan then moves to hell, while he is not ashamed of what he is, he quite likes citizens of hell and wants nothing but the best for those there. He has a contract with Charlie to share his theatre with the Hotel to help bring people to the Hotel and bring people to watch and/or participate and put on shows. Most people are unaware that he’s an angel and he doesn’t disclose this information to others, though he can sense and tell other angels are around but he won’t say anything. Lance is the reason Balan is in Hell at all, though due to the nature of Hell and the inhabitants Balan chose to stay and help those there, even if they don’t want it.

Early Life

Balan was created after the corruption and subsequent fall of another angel named Lance. In the early years, Balan tried to get to know Lance, though he was kept away and never got to know him in his younger years. Balan was created after the corruption and subsequent fall of another angel named Lance. In the early years, Balan tried to get to know Lance, though he was kept away and never got to know him in his younger years. During his time in heaven, Balan wasn’t satisfied with the lack of information surrounding his predecessor and had actually been a bit of a problem for older angels. Eventually, he was pushed into a box and a story was fed to him about Lance. Balan accepted this as his answer, and it warped his opinions of the other, though he didn’t feel any less curious about the man. Though much to the other angels’ relief, he stopped acting out and behaved better.

Relationships

Relationships will be added over time.

Lance: A fallen angel who Balan was created to replace. Lance dislikes and has a heavy dislike for Balan himself. Balan deeply cares about Lance even though he’s barely interacted with the man himself.

Skills and Abilities

Despite his thin appearance Balan appears to be rather strong, agile, and incredibly flexible. All of his powers run on positive energy and the good nature of others.

Shapeshifting - He can turn into objects or other people at will.

Summoning - He can summon random objects and people at will and seemingly create things from nothing.

Inhuman Speed - He can move at abnormal speeds.

Magic - He can create seemingly something out of nothing. His entire theatre seems to be a magical domain for him.

Gravity Control - While it’s not insanely strong, it seems he can do it to a degree if he needs to.

Inhuman strength - He has a great amount of strength with the ability to break things with a well-placed kick or punch.

Energy manipulation - He can create energy shields and blasts

#;exit stage [mun]

6 notes · View notes

quandaryqueen · 2 years

Text

Someone to look up to

Year One Jonathan Crane with an older sibling figure headcanons

I was struck by this and they won't let me write Riddler requests in peace until I finish these.

🧡 Their name is most likely of biblical origin due to their family being influenced by their frantic faith of religion. They attain the usual traits of the Keeny, an unusual youthfulness edged with sharp features and a resting 'holier than thou' look. Dark hair, either blue eyed or brown. Pale-- almost a sickly shade of white, anemic, if you will and also slender, emaciated from the constant starvation.

🧡 I like to Imagine that the older sibling Jonathan looks up to isn't his older sibling at all. More like an aunt/uncle, the younger sibling of his mother that's about a decade older than he is. But they took him under their wing and stood up as his older kin.

🧡 Their relationship with Karen, their older sister is something similar to what will eventually be their role in Jonathan's life. Karen was eight years older than them. With Karen constantly encouraging them to stand up for themselves against their mother and grandmother, reassuring them that it would scare them and will no longer lay a hand on them. Raised out of fear, Karen's younger sibling didn't follow after their sister's rebellious steps when she suddenly fell pregnant, grandmother Mary and mother Mary condemning her. Not only that, they were punished by proxy of Karen's mistakes.

🧡 Fond and sentimental of their disowned older sister, they made a silent promise to keep her baby boy safe. Grandmother Keeny always making you watch the young boy whenever she's gone, something that's rare as she was a touch possessive of Jonathan, as if she didn't want you to bond with him.

🧡 When he grew up, he was constantly attached to them. As a result, grandma Mary being her petty self, goes as far as to keep them away from him by making them work in the city.

🧡 They were firm with Jonathan, often rambling away at him about life lessons and he'd listen intently. Even at a young age, they talk to him as if he was an adult, with the way they don't sugarcoat words and censor themselves. Telling him about the vast outside world, about morality not being black and white, how some natural things such as reading books that aren't of religion are not sinful, how all supposed bad things are created by Satan to lure him away from God, how people of religion are not all good etc etc.

🧡 From the outside one would think of them as being cynical, but deep inside they want nothing more than to be treated with kindness and compassion for once. All that their grandmother taught them of living, was to live with repentance by suffering.

🧡 Having been subjected to Granny Mary's sadistic alleviation, they know what to do and what to say to lighten whatever punishment she has. As much as they want to shield Jon away from the punishments from Granny, they couldn't. The best they can do is to teach Jonathan how to ease his ailments, giving him tips on how to cover himself amid a murder of crows.

🧡 They were also soft for Jonathan, how they would let him sleep in their room and let him snuggle up to them, read him stories, help him with school, taught him how to play an instrument. Whenever the came from work, they'd come home to discreetly gift Jonathan some books and clothes.

🧡 As for his bullies, at first Jonathan doesn't want to tell them due to them being stressed already. As time comes, they become suspicious of him and sat him down to talk, where he had confessed and cried to them. They resorted to talking to his bullies' parents about their behaviour. They also encouraged him to stand up to himself and understands how sometimes that alone will not stop people from hurting him. So they taught him to avoid them as much as possible.

🧡 Raised in an abusive household, it came to the older sibling how to be discreet. Recognising footsteps, hiding evidence, lying convincingly, creating hidden passages in just about anything to hide things, knowing what to do or say in certain situations to appeal to the abuser, etc.

🧡 Where food is withheld for an extended amount of time as a punishment, with Jonathan mostly subjected to this, the older sibling would discretely give him food when Granny isn't looking.

🧡 The first time they cursed out of frustration in front of Jonathan, even if it weren't directed at him, triggers him into an anxiety attack.

🧡 The older figure being there for Jonathan as a shoulder to cry on, locking him in their arms and running their hand on his back as he sobbed on their chest.

🧡 They always felt the need to put up a tough front for Jonathan to look up to, even if they're falling apart from the seams. Even if they try, a breaking point is not too far for them to reach and they'd collapse before Jonathan, something they found guilty and shameful for.

🧡 Jonathan would sometimes catch them exhaustedly seated on the floor next to their bed, their face being concealed by their knees braced close against their chest. He'd see how they try to keep silent, but their shaking shoulders gave them away. He would sit by their side and just lean on them as they cry, until eventually they subside into a fits of sniffles and hiccups. With their throat tight from the tension of sobbing, they ramble about how they promise to run away from granny someday.

🧡 They keep a journal, filled with delirious thoughts of ending it all at those bad days. It's no secret that they're starting to cave in from the abuse, their only lifeline being Jonathan's utmost safety. And with their unstable mind, they confide in their journal, lamenting death or the thought of not existing at all. Sometimes, they entertained the thought of taking grandmother Keeny with them in death.

🧡 It came to the point that they had enough, they organised to leave Georgia and go to Gotham. Everything was intricately detailed, and Jonathan couldn't wait to get away from the grips of the hag. Your belongings were packed, you were at the train station, you had your tickets at hand... But then she threw a wrench in your plan.

🧡 She found her grandchild's one of many journals and submitted it to an asylum, where the workers snatched them from the station under the pretense of them kidnapping Jonathan, that they were suicidal and homicidal. The image of them being dragged by the asylum workers was embedded in his mind, the way they kicked and screamed and reached for him. The image that followed was of great granny Keeny feigning worry and taking Jonathan in her embrace and out of earshot, she whispers that he shall repent in the chapel, her arms tightening around him until he couldn't breathe.

🧡 The older sibling figure in his life was a piece of hope amid the tumultuous period of his life and seeing them being ripped away from him had placed him in his very own void of depression, he himself feeling the way they felt, thinking about how he shouldn't have existed. So he spent times slaving away, thinking about how pointless everything seemed.

🧡 He was forbidden to visit them in the asylum, as they were deemed dangerous and unstable. Diagnosed with a bipolar disorder, his older sibling was kept under watch at constant times due to them being 'suicidal and homicidal' and had come from a long line of family with mental illnesses.

🧡 One day, he was cleaning their old room when he stumbled upon their journals in your dresser, in a secret storage. He wouldn't dare touch their belongings, but he was compelled to read whatever's written in their journal. Something along the line of:

Grandmother had locked Jonathan in the aviary again so it seems, familiar cuts riddling his small body that's reminiscent to mine. The scar's yet to fade. The sensation's yet to fade and I can no longer tolerate birds. I don't want Jonathan to feel that way, to feel unsafe at the sound of birds flying up ahead and shrink away in fear. I don't want him cowering at the mention of going to chapels, unable to breathe at the presence of graphic depictions of hellfire and eternal punishment. To wake up from nightmares only to face them in his waking days. I don't want him to go through the same thing I had.

If only it were easy to escape from the hag's talons. To render her gone forever. Lop her head off and hide her in plain sight, perhaps be the same scarecrow she torments every day, looking over the expansion of the land her family owned, the family she disgraced. I was tempted to swing the sickle at her neck when she turned her back on me, but the sight of Jonathan next to me had grounded me back to reality. And besides, a sickle can only do much, but cutting her head off is not one of them. Severing major arteries on her neck would do the trick, but the bitch is as stubborn as roach. She would refuses to die just to spite me one last time. Perhaps locking her in that damned chapel would do the work, if only I can replicate whatever concoction she mixes up.

I fear that one day I lose my bearing before Jonathan and act out my darkest fantasy. I don't want him to see the monster that I am, I don't want him to see what Lovecraftian nightmare my tormentor has made out of me. I don't want him to see me the same way he sees our tormentor. And so I will keep to myself until eventually the hag dies and we'll be free. I hope it won't be long.

🧡 Something in him stirred upon reading that log of their journal. He started seeing them in a new light, but not in the way they fear he'd see them as.They will always be his hope. And he will start what they've wanted to end.

🧡 Eventually when he was free of his greatest tormentor, the first thing he did was to visit them in the asylum. But they died. Died of grief, says the staff but their abrasions on their autopsy says otherwise. Later on when he donned the Scarecrow's mask, he targeted them first.

🧡 When he had to leave Georgia for Gotham, he plucked a single memory of them from their room-- a photograph of them with Mary cut out of it before he moves to Gotham. Kept safe amid the pages of his journal where he constantly thought of them, used them as a motivation to continue on with life and live it the way they would have wanted him to.

#dc scarecrow #year one jonathan crane #year one scarecrow #headcanons #angst #cw abuse

23 notes · View notes

zenki-soukokq · 1 year

Note

hello!! may i request a matchup with genshin impact male pls?? tyy!! my no-no characters are: gorou, itto, xingqiu, chongyun, razor (i only see all of them in platonic way)

my name is alex and my pronouns are they/them and im intp-t and my zodiac sign is virgo. my appearance is i have long black hair and dark brown eyes almost black, fair skin, with slight dark bags underneath my eyes, my height is 5'0

my personality: im really shy and kind of awkward when socializing others bcos im not really good interacting with them so i just stay in the sideline where i observe people and their behavior and thats the reason why people depict me as intimidating and hard to approach and also bcos of my stoic expression too but when im with my close friends, im really bubbly and more comfortable with them. im really quite moody sometimes and i also tend to overthink things. i always listen to my friends whenever they're having a problem and just be there for them sometimes pitching in some advice now and then. im also the type of person to run away from their problems and tend to push people away bcos i dont want to burden them, i also laugh at small things, im also the type of person to read a body language very well bcos of my observant nature. i also get insecure with my appearance too. im also blunt with my words too i do not sugarcoat things.

my hobbies/likes includes writing stories and reading books, poetry composition, learning about stars and outer space, watching horror videos on yt, staying up all night writing down my ideas about my next stories, sleeping, i also have a fascination to ocean and i tend to stare at it, dark academia, i also like abandoned places especially if its haunted, i also love any sweets related to matcha green tea, i also like dark clothes, i like simple baggy sweaters and jeans, i really love a meadow full of lavenders

my dislikes are loud people including loud places too, vegetables (depends on my mood), cheaters and playboys, worms, hot weather, arrogant people

You have been matched up with...Kazuha!

"A wandering samurai from Inazuma with a modest and gentle personality. Beneath a youthful and carefree demeanor lies a heart that hides a great many burdens from the past. Seemingly easygoing, Kazuha has his own code of conduct."

How you two met:

A calm, quiet meadow within the lands of Liyue. Only two people are here- you, and an aimless wanderer. Approaching you, he saw works of poetry and literature surrounding you, and began to strike up a lighthearted conversation.

He had been in this meadow a couple of times before, and he had never before seen someone else here

Needless to say, he was interested about who else spends their time here

When he saw what you were doing there, his interest was heightened even more

He kneeled next to you, and asked about what you were writing

Kazuha read through what you gave him, and seemed to enjoy it

He didn't stay too long, but he did make a mental bookmark to come back here soon, and to possibly see what you were writing this time

It had not been too long since your first meeting, when he came to the meadow once again. He spent his time in a similar fashion to his last visit, only stopping by for a short time. But, he kept coming back, and his visits got longer and longer.

At this point, he had lost count of the amount of times he had come to this meadow

It was almost like a routine for him, a structure in his life he previously never had

He grew comfortable with this newfound structure, and felt as if he was no longer just a wanderer

When he arrived this time, he had a concrete goal

The clock ticked as seconds passed through, as minutes came and went, and as the hours drifted by, he felt a little nervous

Finally, as the sun began to set over Liyue's bustling port, he turned to you

He knew exactly what he wanted to say, and only hoped that you would return his words with affirmation

"These hours with you have felt so inexplicably like fairy-tales, as if this meadow of lavender was just a landscape in the illustrations of a romantic tale. I like this feeling, though. Love, that is what this feeling is. Do you happen to feel the same way?"

Why you two are compatible:

A wandering samurai from Inazuma who is currently with Liyue's Crux Fleet. A gentle and carefree soul whose heart hides a great many burdens from the past.

I think Kazuha wouldn't be very off-put by your initial disposition (that is, if he would be put-off by it at all)

I think his calmer personality would also fit with your more bubbly one after the two of you get comfortable with each other

He probably would also be pretty appreciative of you being there to listen whenever he needs it

In a way, he might relate to you through how he might feel like he's running away from his problems

Generally, I think that Kazuha and you fit well with each other because of how you have similar aspects that pair well together, and contrasting aspects that also pair well together

Your interests are also things that I could reasonably envision him also liking/being interested in

Overall, I think there's a healthy set of similarities and differences here, which help to foster a pretty good relationship between you two

Relationship Headcanons:

You and him often share snacks, at least the matcha green tea ones

Whenever he gets you a gift, he pairs it with a bouquet that always includes lavender

You two exchange written works, often for special holidays/events

I think he'd actually quite like your fashion style, and would want to try your things on every now and then

Personally, I think he'd be very appreciative of your blunt way with words, since he speaks in a way that seems a little more whimsical, so it's a nice refresher for him

He probably takes you around with him while he travels, and makes it a habit to visit that meadow a lot

Honestly, he's probably quite private with the relationship

I don't see him as someone who would really do too many things with your relationship in public, aside from just being near each other in general

I think at one point, he would teach you how his leaf whistle works for fun (leaf whistle concerts?)

New Years Headcanons:

In my mind, Kazuha never really celebrated many events

But now, he feels a compellation to

So, he came up with a somewhat last-minute plan

He stopped by a couple of stores in Liyue, and picked up some special snacks, and smaller little trinkets

He asked Beidou if she could pick up some fireworks, Inazuman snacks, and a couple of random objects

Not too long after he asked, he began to plan out a little more for his special New Years celebration

He decided that he would have all of this at the meadow that you two met at, and he began arranging all of the items into a neat display

Sometime while he was organizing, Beidou had some of her crew members haul over Kazuha's requested goods

Now, all of the things he needed were there, and all he had to do was invite you over, and pass the hours till twelve

When you arrived, he began to give you various gifts as the time passed by, and he focused on making you feel special for the rest of the day

Finally, it was twelve, and at that exact moment, fireworks began to fly up into the sky

Distanced at just the right point that you could see their beautiful colors and shapes, but just far enough away that you wouldn't hear the crackle of them too clearly

"These fireworks, aren't they pretty? I had these brought over for you. They started just before the last year ended, and ended just as this year started. My love for you, though, will last much longer than these lights in the sky."

Afterword:

I hope you like how this turned out! I was dealing with a lot of things today, so I hope that didn't affect the quality at all.

#genshin matchups #genshin x you #genshin #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x you #matchups #zenki's matchups #genshin impact

2 notes · View notes

burningupp · 3 years

Text

written under the cut!

eighteen: stupid

<<< masterlist >>>

Taglist (open):

@missmadwoman @jovialdelusionbouquet @sopebubbles @sugarcayls @a-noona-mous @emmmui @chimchiekookie @renhold-nightspear @halesandy @gracefulevijlsoul @ephyra1230 @leahknox @somelazysundays @r4yih @jikooksgirl19 @orxphicz3phyrs @secretlycrazyhummingbird @taeshuworld @hannahdinse8 @mybabywearschanel @lovelytaes-blog @salty-for-suga @lyra0cassiopeia @theestrangeddreamer @xianav @gingerspicetalks @unicornbabylover

Immediately after you send the text, you hear the telltale sound of a FaceTime-call breaking through the silence of your apartment. It makes you smile, and shift to sit more upright on the couch - Jimin may be a friend, one of the best ones you've ever had if you're honest, but you don't find the thought of exposing him to your double chin while you lay down particularly enticing.

Since Jimin (and Taehyung, but you try not to let your thoughts linger on him too much) left, talking to the cheerful man had become like habit. He always texted you good morning, asked how your day was when you got home, and wished you sweet dreams before sleeping. Unlike Rosie, he actually took his time to listen and hear you out just as you did the same for him.

No shade to your long-time best friend, but she wasn't particularly attentive to others; an unfortunate trait she had always carried with her.

As soon as you pressed the green button on your screen, Jimin's smiling face made an appearance. The sight of him pulled a smile onto your features, one you couldn't have fought off if you wanted to - the man knew how to cheer someone up.

Jimin seemed to be in a living room of some sort, something that you found rather surprising. The other times the two of you had FaceTimed, he made it a point to provide the both of you with the privacy of his room, door shut tight. You didn't mind much, but the unfamiliar background intrigued you.

"Y/n!" Jimin exclaimed, that large smile never leaving his features.

"Hi Jimin," you smiled back.

Though your greeting may not have been quite as enthusiastic, you were in fact very happy to see your friend. Your days were spent in a kindergarten, after all, and as much as you adored the kids you cared for, they weren't very good conversationalists just yet. Besides, aside from Rosie, you didn't have many friends, definitely none you considered close, in any case. Jimin's presence in your life, in short, was a welcome one.

"How you holding up?" the smiling man asked, gaze softening.

"I told you I'm alright, Min," you chuckled, glaring at him playfully. "I'm not a child."

"I know, but I care about you, love," he answered, pouting a little. It made you giggle at him.

As bothered as you were because of the whole Taehyung-situation, you figured it was no use dwelling too much on it; if he was upset, you didn't know why, and if he expected an apology, he would have to man up and ask for one. You felt guilty, of course you did – it was in your nature to do your best to always keep all your relationships amicable. Still, there wasn’t much you could do if you didn’t even know what to apologize for.

“I know, thank you for your concern,” you told him, smiling sweetly.

“No problem,” the man grinned back, and you briefly reflected on his ability to shift emotions with such speed. “Anyway, I’m sorry for saying those things about Rosie, that was not very cool of me.”

You bristled a little at that, not even having thought much about his less than kind words towards your best friend. Honestly, they were kind of true – Rosie really shouldn’t have gone through your phone without your permission, and definitely shouldn’t have taken Taehyung’s number without yours (or his) permission at all. However, you were very much used to her antics, and therefore tended to gloss over things like this.

“Ah no, it’s okay,” you told your friend, waving him off. “She can be a bit much at times… it does feel a little bit weird when you don’t know her, I suppose.”

Jimin hummed a little, a crease appearing between his brows. He didn’t want to tell you, but he thought Rosie was a horrible influence on you; he thought you deserved much better friends in general, if he was honest. He had heard about her from you, and while you tended to sugarcoat most things in life, the things he heard were still a bit appalling despite it. On top of that, he had seen the way Rosie acted around Taehyung, and the fact that she was manipulating him understandably didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I guess that might be true,” he agreed, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with his opinions on the matter. “Aside from… that whole situation, how are you doing?”

This question caused you some distress. Your gaze fell upon your coffee table, littered with mountainous piles of papers and books, your laptop open in the middle, glaring its bright white light at you. You bit your lip, stress swelling in your chest and threatening to consume you. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath – nothing good would come from stressing about the situation.

“Y/n?” Jimin asked after a few seconds of silence.

Your eyes were burning with the effort of keeping your tears at bay, but you still answered the man as calmly as you could.

“I’m okay. A bit stressed, is all,” you said, tacking on a chuckle at the end as to not clue the man in on your severe distress.

“How come?”

“This one teacher… She was pregnant. Keyword ‘was’. She was in her 36th week when she went into labor, meaning she still had lessons to plan all the way until summer, and she had two weeks left until her maternity leave. Now we have to plan all her lessons quickly, because we have to bring in a substitute and it’s just—” you stopped yourself, taking another deep breath before you hurled all over your fairly new couch. “It’s just a lot.”

Jimin frowned at you through the screen. He could definitely see the dark circles under your eyes, and the mess your hair was due to the incessant pulling. He could see a coffee stain on your sweatshirt, too, and when you covered your face with your hands, your bitten-down nails also became apparent. He really felt for his friend, and wished he could relieve your stress somehow.

Just as he was about to suggest taking a break or a vacation or something, you saw another man walk up behind him. Despite looking the band up online (purely to be able to keep up with Jimin’s stories about his life), you could not place who the unfamiliar man was at first. He had broad shoulders, was reasonably tall, and had brown, messy hair. From the looks of it, the man was about to walk straight past Jimin, before he stopped dead.

“Hey, who are you talking to?”

The man padded up behind your friend, leaning in to see the phone screen. Jimin jumped as soon as he heard his friend speak up, clutching his chest and glaring at the man.

“Yah hyung, you scared me,” he whined, and you giggled, your stress momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, is that Y/n?”

Now that the unfamiliar man was so close, you could identify him as Seokjin, the oldest member of the band. You smiled bashfully and waved a little. “Hi.”

You had never talked to Seokjin before, but he gave off a very friendly aura, even through your phone screen. He smiled back at you, and waved a little too.

“Nice to finally see your face,” he grinned, and your eyes widened. “Taehyung talked a lot about you.”

At the mention of your childhood friend’s name, you froze. Jimin was very good at avoiding mentioning his name, but of course, Seokjin wouldn’t know that the two of you were… not on the best terms at the moment. So, you swallowed down the sudden melancholy that washed over you, and tried your best to smile. It sort of worked.

“Ah, well that’s nice of him. Seokjin, right?” you settled for asking, not wishing to dwell on Taehyung for too long.

“Call me Jin,” the man told you kindly before turning to Jimin. “Our car is here to take us to practice.”

Your sweet friend groaned loudly, pouting at the camera. “I guess I have to go,” he said grumpily.

“I guess you do,” you giggled as Jimin stood up from the couch. “Don’t work too hard and take plenty of breaks, okay? You too Jin!”

You saw Jin pause at your words, turning to grin at the phone once more. “You really are a sweetheart, you know that?”

His words made you blush, because you weren’t very used to compliments, but you appreciated them nonetheless. Jimin was quick to agree with his hyung, reiterating how sweet and kind you were, and your face flamed even hotter.

“Yah, let’s go!” you heard a shout from the background.

“Alright, now I really have to go,” muttered Jimin, smiling softly at you. “Please don’t overwork yourself. You won’t be any good to those kids if you’re burnt out, you know.”

You returned his smile easily. “I will do my best. Now go before someone bursts a blood vessel!”

Jimin giggled before saying a quick goodbye, followed by a shouted one from Jin. Before the screen went dark, though, you saw a man with curly hair walking out the door.

You hated the way your heart sped up at the sight of him.

263 notes · View notes

monamourbladie-mb · 3 years

Text

19 Years Later... [Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader x reader miniseries]

19 years have passed since Y/n’s husband Anakin’s death, and she has become the leading General of the newly founded Rebellion alongside her past Jedi friend Obi-Wan Kenobi, now known as Ben Kenobi. When her children Luke and Leia Skywalker gets kidnapped by Darth Vader, the man who killed her husband; her and Obi-Wan Kenobi must come rescue her. But when she finds out who’s behind Darth Vader’s mask, the truth is something she never thought she had to prepare herself for.

——————

i’m so freaking excited for this fanfic, holy shit. i’ve had this idea since April 2020 and i decided to say fuck it since you guys seemed interested. i hope you enjoy it!!! get ready for an angst and sex train, cause it’s coming in hot 🥵 😏

Index:

prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 [Coming soon]

Warnings: None

WC: 1.3k

——————

People say love is a forever thing. But for Y/n and Anakin Skywalker, their time together was cut short the day Darth Vader murdered Anakin almost 20 years ago on Mustafar.

Y/n remembered the day so vividly - it was the scariest, saddest, and all the same happiest day of her life. It was the day her twin children, Luke and Leia Skywalker, were born; and it was also the day the love of her life was killed.

Y/n didn’t remember much of that, between the two events. According to Obi-Wan Kenobi, he had said that Anakin was behind the attacks at the Jedi Temple, and the man behind the murder of countless Jedi. Y/n couldn’t bring herself that the man she was married to could do such a horrible, despicable act.

She didn’t believe it until she saw first hand his anger - the way his voice changed, how cold his gaze had become. He tried to sugarcoat his villainous words to her, speaking gently, “Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me.”

But when he had noticed Obi-Wan was on the ship alongside Y/n, Anakin lost all sense of reality and tried killing her.

The last memory she had of seeing her future husband was tainted with fear - the sight of him angrily raising his fingers to choke his lover.

When she awoke, she felt her body give in and start to writhe from excruciating labor pains. The pain she felt throughout her back and belly, however, were nothing in comparison to the never-ending ache in her heart that started when Obi-Wan muttered the words, “Anakin is dead.”

Barely able to cling to life, Y/n was able to deliver two healthy children, whom she had named Luke and Leia. Obi held her hand gently, smiling testy eyed, “Anakin would be so happy to see his little family. I promise I’m here to support and protect the three of you.”

Tears from pain and sorrow streamed down her cheeks as she cradled Leia close to her breast, sobbing as her body shook.

He should be here. I should be squeezing his hand, not Obi’s. He should be holding his son, not Obi. I shouldn’t be a widow.

When she found out the truth about how Anakin died, she was even more torn apart. Anakin didn’t even get a chance to explain his actions at the Temple - he was murdered by a man named Darth Vader before he could repent. She lost her husband to a murderous sith lord.

Obi-Wan took it upon himself to take care of Y/n, Luke, and Leia and got them a home on Tattooine. He knew that Y/n was never good on her own - even though she was a Jedi, she hated being alone. So he stayed with them, helping her raise Luke and Leia with just the two of them.

Knowing they were a target from Darth Vader, Obi-Wan knew that they’d had to change their names. He changed his to Ben Kenobi, a nickname an old lover gave him; and Y/n changed her name to Cecelia Jonas, a drastic difference from Y/n Skywalker. When it was just them, they would refer to each other as their old names for old time’s sake.

Raising twins without their biological father was very, very hard. There were many nights Luke or Leia would ask about their beloved late father, causing her to get teary-eyed remembering.

Nights when Luke would play around with the droids, speaking with C3-PO and laughing reminded Obi and Y/n of Anakin.

Having a son who looked just like a young version of Anakin was no help to her healing heart. Yet, no matter what she swore to never remarry — her heart belonged to Anakin Skywalker, and Anakin Skywalker alone.

By now, it was 19 years since Anakin had died. The Galactic Empire was rising, and the Rebels rose in contradiction, hoping to defend the Galaxy.

Meanwhile, Darth Vader stormed around his Death Star ship in an angry stance, slicing anyone who dared to comment on his more-so than normal angry aura.

He crossed his arms, looking outside the Death Star, “What do you mean you lost the plans?” His breathing labored and heavy as usual. The mask wasn’t even needed for him — the cocky bastard just wanted to come off as more intimidating.

“Someone... someone had sold the plans. And now General Jonas-“

Vader grunted and raised his fist, beginning to force choke the man mercilessly, “Find me who sold the plans and bring them to me. I want their death slow and painful. And find me General Jonas, I want to have a chat with them.”

The man’s eye’s rolled back as his vision blackened, then he collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.

Vader strutted off, his signature Skywalker strut all the more prominent and powerful enveloped in his robotic suit of armor.

Ever since his fall, Vader had one thing on his mind. Completing out his Master’s will so he would finally teach him how to bring people back from the dead.

Vader reached his quarters and shut the door, locking it using the force with a simple flick of his wrist. He begrudgingly walked to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and hunched over the sink, his breathing getting more rapid until the noise irritated him to let out a yell in anger.

He took off his black mask in frustration and slammed it down on the countertop, his hands gripping it’s sides so tightly he felt his flesh hand feel numb. He looked up in the mirror, his ear-length brown hair dampened down with sweat as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Who the hell even are you,” he grumbled to himself, running his gloved fingers through his hair. He sighed heavily and shook his head, the memory of her gasping for air replaying in his mind as his anger grew, “It’s my fault. It’s my fucking fault you and our child are dead!” he yelled to no in but himself, tears beginning to prick his yellow eyes.

With shaky hands, he dipped into his pocket and took out the necklace he crafted for her all those years ago, smiling sadly down at it as he rubbed it with his thumb.

“This is all for you, my love bird. All of it, so I can bring you home to me.” His voice trailed as he kissed the necklace, putting it back in his pocket gently as he let out a heavy sigh, wiping his tears quickly.

Vader thrived on pain now. Once he found out his wife was killed by his own hand, he lost all sense of himself. Anakin died when he knelt and took Darth Vader’s name, but Anakin truly died the moment Palpatine uttered those words.

“It seems, in your anger, you killed her.”

“Shit husband I was,” he growled, putting his glove back up on his flesh hand after he glared at his wedding band.

It gave him a mixed feeling - he missed his wife dearly, but yet it was also a deadly reminder how much of a horrible man he was.

The separated couple went to bed in tears that night, wishing and praying that somehow, someway they could be reunited.

But the both of them knew the only way that would happen is if they died, which was out of the question.

So they laid there awake in agony, their heart crying out to be reunited with their lover once more.

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakinskywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars smut #hayden christensen smut #starwars #darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x reader angst #darth vader x reader smut #suitless vader x reader #suitless vader x reader smut #suitless vader

541 notes · View notes

ukai-simp-services · 3 years

Text

because i love you

prompt: tainted hues: “if you loved them, why did you break their heart?”

@tooruluv | #tooruluv2kparty

oikawa x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, poor mental health, depression, heartbreak, small panic attack, alcoholism.

a/n: why am i so sad after writing this,, i think this is my first time writing angst with no fluff T^T

somewhere in argentina, there is a large penthouse with tall windows and cornered with perfectly trimmed green hedges. the interior of the penthouse is simple, there are no memories cluttering the walls, there are no fairy lights adorning the windows, there are no bento boxes in the fridge, and there are no sweet scented candles in every room of the house.

there is only dull colored furniture, only overflowing laundry baskets, only a kitchen sink filled to the brim with dirty dishes, and only empty liquor bottles littering the dining table.

a home without you, is hardly a home.

in this penthouse, a young man, barely 25 years old, sits at the kitchen table with a glass of fernet in his hand. one large window is opened, letting the warm evening breeze rustle the thin kitchen curtains and brush over his exposed skin.

oikawa still couldn’t stop thinking about what iwaizumi had asked him two years ago.

no amount of mind numbing liquor could ever make him forget that interaction -inevitably, the last face-to-face interaction he ever had with his best friend.

“oikawa, if you loved her, then why would you break her heart?”

oikawa gasps to himself, suddenly feeling chills run up his back, as if the memory happened just yesterday.

he remembers vividly how furious iwaizumi’s voice was and the tired look in his best friend’s eyes - a look that all but told oikawa that he was exhausted picking up the shattered pieces that he always left behind.

he downs the glass of fernet.

he pours himself another.

he remembers that, that was the first time he had nothing to say - the first time that tōru oikawa was at a loss for words. because men like oikawa, men with quick rebuttals and prepared excuses, always knew exactly what to say in every situation.

that day, iwaizumi had walked away from oikawa with sadness in his eyes, no trace of hostility to be found anymore. there was no slap to the back of oikawa’s head, no ear piercing screaming of a lecture, and no insults thrown at him. there was nothing.

but oikawa would’ve preferred a slap to the head or some sort of beating.

a gentle ache presents itself in oikawa’s throat, threatening a small cry to stumble out.

oikawa washes it away with a swig to his drink.

iwaizumi is a faint presence in oikawa’s life now, he calls and texts - the occasional check up - but he had stopped being his best friend a long time ago.

losing a brother pains him; it burns from the depths of his core, but losing you practically kills him; it steals every bit of oxygen from his lungs.

because, ultimately, you were his reason for living - for breathing; your warmth, your comfort, your presence is what kept oikawa going every day. without you, his days are meaningless, he inevitably lives his life without purpose.

but, now he finds it ironic; he chose volleyball over you, his life.

everyday, from 9am to 7pm, he mindlessly serves, sets, and passes a volleyball. for hours on end, he feels his muscles contract and relax as he tosses the ball up high, just for him to smack it down against a cold and shiny gym floor, he watches at it ricochets back into the air just to fall back down onto the ground again. bounce bounce bounce, till the sound ceases and the ball rests in its place.

oikawa now wonders when a blinding passion - a heart pounding desire to play this sport, turned into just a distraction. he finds that now when the very familiar surface of the volleyball brushes up against his palm, he no longer feels his adrenaline pumping with excitement; he feels resent.

because trying to dissipate his memories of you by overworking his body everyday no longer worked anymore, if anything it only made things worse.

every game, every screech of his name from the crowd, every praising cheer after he makes an award winning serve, it all reminds him that you aren’t in the stands cheering him on. faces upon faces, all different colors and all different shapes, none of them are yours.

oikawa hisses as he feels a dull ache in his knee, the same knee you would spend hours massaging after practice every day.

the lump in his throat has become more apparent now, he drowns it out with the bitter liquid in his cup - trying to suppress the feelings that will always be there.

he is only 25, yet he can feel his body beginning to give up on him. his muscles are weaker than they were two years ago, his bones throb under his weight with every step he takes, and his mind is continuously drifting off into oblivion.

he wonders who he is living for at this point. he can’t lie to himself and say that volleyball is his reason, because then who is he playing it for?

this country; even with its busy streets and loud music - he still can’t help but feel alone.

his favorite memory of you plays in his mind like a film, it’s grainy and colored with a brown, faded hue. your hair whipping in the wind, your dress flowing over your hips, your feet sinking into the sand, your hand intertwined with his, and your mouth open with that melody of a laugh spilling out of it.

he remembers your skin felt soft, flawless against his calloused palm. shimmering silver earrings decorated your ears, a gift he had gotten you for your birthday. the air around you was warm, despite the unforgiving ocean winds that was tussling through your hair and clothes.

as the memory plays, your laugh begins to fade away in the wind, the already loud noise getting increasingly louder and louder. his ears are ringing now, he can’t hear your laugh anymore. the sky is no longer a heavenly blue, it is now an unsettling gray. your body, your hand holding his, the scenery of the beach, is being ripped from his mind and transforming into a different memory, one he would kill to forget.

there you were, eyes big and brimming with tears, standing in front of him. the beach background has now turned into your shared apartment in japan, both of you in the living room. you open your mouth, but oikawa can’t hear your voice - he remembers your words vividly, but his mind refuses to play them.

tears spilling down your cheeks, your hands balled into fists; oikawa watches as he breaks down the one person who he deemed to be unbreakable. everything he had built - everything you had built, he watches fall apart for the hundredth time.

a sharp pain shoots through his chest, snapping him back to reality.

he clutches at the fabric of his t-shirt, heaving breaths fall from his lips as he tries to compose himself.

the cup full of fernet falls to the floor, pieces of his heart are scattered on the floor alongside the broken glass.

oikawa lost meaning in his life the second he walked out the door that shameful day; he lost his motivation, his strive.

everyday, his body aches with loss. the sounds of cars racing down the busy streets, the loud music playing from his favorite coffee shop, the smacking of countless volleyballs being slammed down onto gym floors, and the lively chattering coming from some rom-com that he left playing on his flat screen tv, all sound like background noise to him - numbly playing in his ears as background music to the memories he constantly has playing in his mind.

oikawa never knew about loss or pain until you, never imagined that this is what it would feel like.

but, loss has made him wiser; he knows now what will lie ahead for the both of you. he knows that as years come and go, the pain will begin to diminish a little, bit by bit - but he also knows that there’s no way that it’ll ever fully leave his heart.

because, as he gets older, he’ll only get more tired. his skin will begin to wrinkle, hair will start to gray, his bones will ache from weight of the world, his lungs will begin collapsing from the pressure constantly on his chest, and his heart will eventually cease to beat, from the death grip you still have on it.

he will age unforgivingly, eyes devoid of any color - they have already lost the once charming glint they used to hold.

unlike him, he knows you’ll only burn brighter as the upcoming years pass you by.

you’ll get back on your feet, your skin will glow again, your muscles will strengthen and your heart will beat with a newfound passion to love yourself - that’s something he’s always admired about you, the passion you held for all things involving love.

you’ll age with an unstoppable beauty; you’ll laugh and smile so much that permanent crinkles will form next to your eyes, you’ll dance so much that your muscles grow tired, you’ll fall in love again and have all those kids you wanted - kids that will fill every single gap in your heart that oikawa left behind.

despite pure science and human biology, your youth will never leave you. you’re one of the few people oikawa has met that have the ability to live young forever. your soul is unbreakable. sure, oikawa may have put a mere scratch on it, but he never came close to cracking it.

and that’s the difference between you and him; he will die miserable and alone, heart poorly stitched together and the inside of his body bruised and weak. you will pass away surrounded by people who also - like him - became allured by your kind spirit and your lively energy. his body will fall weak from exhaustion, but yours will fall weak from years of dancing and laughing and singing. his heart will die battered with pain, your heart will die full of love and forgiveness.

it’s painful to think about, but oikawa knows this is the truth, and simply just how life works. he won’t sugarcoat it for himself, he knows his ending is exactly what he deserves.

so he begins writing a note. the bottle of fernet he was previously so dependent on, is now long forgotten. he holds a shiny black pen in his hand and a white slip of paper in his other. he clicks the pen and holds the tip above the blank page for a few beats; hesitating, before he’s letting the words flow out.

it starts, with an answer to a question.

“i broke her heart, because i love her.”

#laughs nervously #tooruluv2kparty #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq angst #oikawa tooru #hq #oikawa toru #oikawa toru headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #oikawa angst #tooru oikawa angst #haikyuu smau #haikyuu angst

124 notes · View notes

a-very-bored-blogger · 3 years

Text

headcanons/matchups for childe and dazai!

A special matchup request from:

@attista !

okok then could i request a bungou stray dogs & genshin impact matchup ?? personality wise : im VERY chaotic and can get easily hyper, to the point where my friends can’t rlly control me. sugar just does that to me :(. i’m also very logical and follow my brain over my heart, even if it means it’ll hurt me or somebody around me - i struggle with empathy anyways, so doing something logically is best in my mind. alongside that, i can be pretty blunt if something needs to be said. i will sugarcoat it sometimes, but most of the time, i’ll just say what’s on my mind if it’s to help the person !! even with all of that though, i’m kinda awkward and shy with new people, i just don’t know how to act around them and don’t really speak a lot in groups. hobbies: i like to play video games and to read when i wanna relax, walks with my dog are also something i absolutely ADORE. recently, i’ve been getting into art and writing a bit more as well :) ideals: i believe that my friends should not go above me, as selfish as it sounds, they’re not family and if it’ll make me suffer, i’d rather not allow that. however, i would never ever take somebody’s significant other or date somebody my friend has said they have a crush on. i know how it feels so i’d rather just help my friend that way. murder seems fine if it’s necessary, you can’t really stop it in the criminal world. however, i do not condone it. my mbti is intj, but i’ve also received intp a few times ?? not sure how that works. appearance: i’m a 5’3 (160cm) female with shoulder length brown hair, which will be dyed a magenta soon :). my eyes are blue and my skin is pale as a sheet of paper. i weigh around 108lbs (49kg) and have a kinda hourglass body shape ?? my pronouns are she/they and i’m bisexual with a male lean ! hope i did that correct :)

I ship you with (Genshin Impact): Childe!

A romantic relationship between you and Childe would involve: ~fights! childe always love a good fight and he would fight you physically and mentally for fun

~he'll also try and help you try and help you with your empathy issues

~he'll introduce you to more people but he'll try his best to read your body language to see whether or not you're uncomfortable

~teases you a LOT about your height difference with him and likes to carry you from behind when you least expect it

~likes to have witty battles with you and takes you to art museums and will buy you gifts with historical meaning behind them

~his favorite type of date is whenever you win mario kart against him (or any other video game) because he just loves seeing a smile on your face and you getting cocky around him

~he will MATCH your hyperactivity. wanna stay up late all night and just jump on your bed? no problem he will do that right away! he will even grab marshmellows and do weird chubby bunny challenges with you

~he admires your honesty and the reasont to why he loves you so much is because of how you're not afraid to tell people the truth

~he sees your hourglass figure so gorgeous and likes to put his hands on your waist to admire them

~he will go all out encouraging you to get magneta hair, as well as try and get hair products that is good for dyed hair

~he understands your ideals pretty well and find it hella convinient especially with his line of work

~loves headpatting you, cheek kisses, as well as snuggling with you on bed

~will LOVE to adopt a dog with you

~if you're living in an apartment, then he'll probably get you a cute toy poddle that won't stress you out too much to take care of

~if you live in a house, corgis, shiba inus, golden retrievers, and etc, anything you name it, this man has done his research!

~loves dogs as much as you and will not hesitate to take you on dog cafe dates!

Dazai

a romantic relationship with dazai would include: ~cuddles! he would love cuddling with you especially with the 20CM height difference, where he would be the big spoon, as well as his legs crossed holding you within his arms

~he would also love to debate with your logic and see how witty and charming you are

~dazai would know when to match your hyperactivity energy and when to help you calm down (maybe a snack, cuddle session or something)

~he would love to go adopt a dog with you but if you live in an apartment, he would dress up as a dog as a joke (just like what he did at WAN!)

~he would help you open up with people but you can signal him whenever you don't feel comfortable with new people

~he would take you to library dates whenever you wanna relax, and take you to art museums if you guys still have time

~he will take time off the ADA just to follow you (in case he feels like you are being followed) because this man CARES a lot about you

~dazai tends to get a bit protective with you because the last person he cared for died when he wasn't watching them

~dazai finds your ideals way too convinient as his line of work sometimes find situations where murder is inevitable and sometimes even necesarry (but he had been trying to evade situations where casualities are as little as possible)

~loves your honesty and love how you can be straight with people without beating behind the bush

(that's it~ sorry i didn't write much, you can text me whenever youw ant it longer!!)

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin childe #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin matchups #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x you #dazai x y/n

36 notes · View notes

secretpeachtea · 3 years

Text

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 5

Title: the graduation celebration

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: IM BACK. this literally took me a whole month to write and i hope there aren’t too many mistakes. if there are mistakes, feel free to point them out to me! other than that, hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

Your back was aching from standing at the register for such a long time, so you decided to take a seat on one of the two chairs set up behind the counter for times like this. There was only a little over an hour left before closing, and there weren’t any customers at the moment, so taking a quick break wouldn’t hurt. It seems like Osamu was thinking the same thing as he plopped himself next to you languidly.

Your boss rests an arm on the back of your chair. “You tired?”

“A little bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you reply back with a sigh. “How about you?”

Osamu takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just feeling a bit dazed. It’s been a pretty slow week, so I guess I’m just lacking some energy boost.”

“Yeah, I guess. We haven’t had any interesting customers come in for a while, huh.” You think back to the time when you had to babysit a certain volleyball team and when you interacted with a specific gamer during work. “Although, I can’t really tell whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Your conversation was interrupted when you both heard the entrance slide open indicating the arrival of a customer. Or, rather, customers. A group of young men walked into the shop while also engaged in their own chatter.

“We meet up after such a long time and you decide to come here?” A man with light brown, uneven bangs shoved his hands into his coat while sporting a blank expression. “Although, I can’t really say I’m surprised, Goshiki.”

The one addressed as Goshiki scowled in slight frustration. “I don’t trust any of the other options you all pitched in! I didn’t want to eat spicy ramen from the convenience store when we haven’t met up all together like this in so long! I won rock paper scissors too so it’s my choice, Shirabu-san!”

Another man with a crimson-tinted buzzcut chipped in with a lighthearted tone, “Are you sure you didn’t want to just come here ‘cause you heard about the cute register girl?”

“N-no! That’s not true, Tendou-san!” (yes)

“You’re so easy to read, Tsutomu! Isn’t that right, Wakatoshi-kun?”

Broad shoulders on a tall figure turned towards the redhead. “I suppose it is easy to understand Goshiki as if I were reading the gardening section of the newspaper.”

The fourth person of the group had a guitar strapped to his back with an...interesting outfit that you would not normally see someone wear voluntarily. “You guys sure haven’t changed at all. I can’t really say I expected to come here either.”

The last two people to enter the shop chuckled as they listened to their peers. One had a spiky undercut and slanted eyebrows, while the other had large, defined lips and tan skin. The latter spoke up, “Well, it’s not too bad, Semi. Plus, we’re here to celebrate Shirabu’s graduation and acceptance into medical school.”

You and Osamu are now standing behind the counter but the group of seven had yet to notice you both. You do a double take when you glance at the one who just spoke. Covering your mouth with one hand, you whisper to your boss, “Okay. I see what you meant by Benkei.”

Osamu just quietly chuckles.

It didn’t take long for one specific person to direct his attention at you as he walked to the counter. “Ah, (Surname)-san. How have you been?”

At the sudden greeting, the rest of the group ceased their conversation.

You just gave the familiar face a small smile. “I’ve been doing well, Shirabu-san.”

“SHIRABU-SAN KNOWS THE PRETTY REGISTER GIRL?!”

You’re a bit taken aback by the loud exclamation by Goshiki, so you just stare at him with wide eyes. A couple people burst out laughing, mainly Tendou, Yamagata, and Semi. The poor boy’s entire body flushes red as he tries to get the guys to stop laughing. Shirabu just lets out a sigh and turns his attention back to you. It seems like the other two who weren’t part of the boisterous bunch also turned their focus to where you were.

“Sorry about that. I told you I would visit soon, but I didn’t expect to come with my former teammates,” Shirabu apologized.

“No, that’s okay. If that’s the case, then these guys must be the Shiratorizawa alumni you mentioned before.” You shook your head in understanding. You turned towards the others. “Nice to meet you guys. I’m (Surname) (Name), Shirabu’s college classmate.”

“Hellooo~ (Name)-chan!” Tendou joyfully greeted after listening in on the conversation. Goshiki was now hidden behind Ushijima’s large stature to avoid any awkward encounters. Yamagata and Semi rejoined since they were also curious as to how you knew their former setter. After some brief introductions, you had learned all of their names before going into detail of your relationship with Shirabu.

“(Surname)-san and I went to the same university and had a couple classes together since our majors were similar. We were both fairly diligent in our studies, so we often grouped up to do assignments.”

“Oh? What did you major in, (Surname)-san?” Ohira asks.

“I majored in Anatomy and Physiology. I plan on going to grad school for Sports medicine.”

You hear a small gasp behind Ushijima and a quiet, subtle statement of “She’s pretty and smart!”, but you pretend like you didn’t hear anything in hopes to spare Goshiki from any more embarrassment. Osamu seems a bit intrigued since he’s never really heard you speak about school but stays silent off to the side.

“Have you decided on where you want to go? I know you once told me you applied to a special Sports medicine program.” Shirabu asks.

You feel a wave of negative emotions at the question but try your best to control your facial expression. “I...um...was waitlisted from the program and was rejected from all the grad schools that I applied to…”

Your former classmate’s eyes widened a bit in surprise and lifted his hand to his chin in thought. “I see.”

You try to brush off any unnecessary thoughts by waving your hands in front of you. “There must have been a reason for that. My resume wasn’t all that great and they probably thought I was lacking in a lot of ways.”

“Nonsense. From the couple of times we’ve worked together, I know that you’re a very well versed and competent person.” Shirabu crosses his arms and looks straight into your eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be able to come across a good opportunity with your capabilities.”

You were quite touched by Shirabu’s firm words and he’s managed to slightly lift up the corners of your lips despite the heavy weight in your heart. He’s fairly blunt and doesn’t like to sugarcoat words, so you know his words are genuine.

“Oh? How romantic~” Tendou commented. Shirabu just glares at the tall redhead and remains silent.

A sudden low rumble echoes into the air from Semi’s stomach. “Oh, sorry guys. I’ve been composing all day, so I haven’t gotten around to eating yet.”

“We should order now,” Ushijima advises. The rest nod their heads in agreement. As the Shiratorizawa crew puts in their orders, Osamu sets up his workstation to accommodate. The entire order came out to be quite a lot since most of the guys were heavy eaters and some ordered additional side dishes.

“Will this be all in one order or is everyone paying separately?” You ask.

Shirabu opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by Tendou. “Since we’re here for a celebration, we can’t let the man of the hour pay for anything!”

“Are you suggesting that we split the cost of Shirabu’s meal or have one person pay for it?” Yamagata looked up thoughtfully.

Tendou raised a finger into the air and wiggled it in denial. “Just one person will pay for all of the food!”

“It’s fine, Tendou-san. Onigiris do not cost that mu-”

“Nuh uh~ That’s not an option!”

“Alright. Then, how would we determine who pays?” Semi looked a bit weary at the suggestion.

Tendou clapped his hands together. “We’ll play some games to determine who the ultimate loser is! The winners from each round will be exempt from the next one! There will be three games in total. Whoever loses every single game and remains as the last person will be the one to pay for all of us!”

“Seems simple enough,” Yamagata comments. The other guys nod their heads in agreement.

“This is a great idea!” Goshiki in particular seems fired up. “I will defeat you, Ushijima-san!”

“I look forward to your efforts, Goshiki.”

As if there was some kind of telepathic signal between the guys, everyone but Ushijima, Shirabu, and Goshiki look at one another. Sly smiles and pitiful expressions begin to form as they take a quick glance at where Goshiki and Ushijima were standing before turning back to each other in mutual understanding. It seems like the majority has come to the conclusion that one specific person will be walking home with a lighter wallet.

Shirabu, who’s already used to his former team’s antics, doesn’t even try to stop them. Once they start, it’s difficult to halt their chaos unless he wants to hear them complain about it for the next couple weeks. Although, he does make the effort to face you and Osamu. “I know they’re getting ahead of themselves, but is all this okay? I know you haven’t closed yet, so I wouldn’t want to disturb your business.”

Your boss just waves his hand to brush off the concern. “Nah, you’re good. It’s been a slow day and I was planning on closing a bit early anyways. Feel free to hang out and have fun as long as you clean up after yourselves. I’ll be preparing the food in the meantime.”

“Yeah, as long as I’m not mopping up someone’s vomit off the floor, I don’t have any problems with it either,” You reply.

With the final yes from the owner of Onigiri Miya, Tendou sports a wide grin and faces his peers. “I already have some game ideas, so all we need to do is set up everything like I ask!”

You’re just about to return to your previous seat behind the counter before the Shiratorizawa boys entered, but Tendou waved at you to get your attention. “(Name)-chan! Would you mind being the referee for the games?”

Bewilderment is evident on your face as you try to decipher the redhead’s intentions. You’re a bit cautious since the group is so unpredictable. “Oh, um, wouldn’t it be better if Shirabu-san watched over you guys? I think I prefer watching you all have fun from afar.”

“Aw~ That’s a shame.” Tendou pulls out a small box wrapped in a bright blue ribbon from the bag slung over his shoulders. “I was planning on sharing these gourmet chocolates with the person who volunteered to be a referee.”

“Huh?” There was a small glint in your eyes.

The lanky man gently pulled off the ribbon and opened the lid. Inside the box were 5 pieces of chocolate all laid out on top of a plastic mold. Each of the chocolates had intricate designs that hinted at the work of delicate hands and showed the amount of care that went into making them. The surfaces of each piece shined under the fluorescent lights and the delectable, mouthwatering aroma permeated the air. “I gifted some chocolates for our lovely graduating friend but had a couple chocolates leftover, so I made an extra box. It’s too bad that it’ll go to waste since no one will claim them.”

“...”

You stay frozen for a moment as you eye the exquisite sweets in front of you. “...What do you need me to do?”

Tendou lets out a small shout of happiness at your response, and you took one of the chocolates out of the box. You plopped it into your mouth and immediately tasted a burst of flavor. A soft, content sigh leaves your lips as you savor the dessert. There was a soft chuckle next to you and you assumed it was Osamu but decided that you were just going to savor the moment. After gushing over two more pieces, you decide to save the rest for later and make your way around the counter to where the rest were waiting.

Tendou briefs you on some of the games and you can’t help but sweatdrop at what he has planned. As you look to the side, you see Shirabu sitting on his own since he’s the only one exempt from participating in the competition. The other guys just seem to be waiting for Tendou to fill them in as well.

Goshiki notices your presence and starts to make his way over to you. “(Surname)-san! W-what are you doing over here?”

“Tendou-san asked me to be a referee for your games, so I’ll be watching over all of you from here,” you reply nonchalantly.

“What?!”

Tendou snickers beside you and places his hands on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Now, now! Let’s get ready for the game, Tsutomu!”

Since all you really had to do was monitor and keep track of the losers of each game, you take a seat next to Shirabu who just has a bored expression on his face and acknowledges you with a short nod. Tendou has now gathered everyone else into one big group and begins to gesture his arms wildly. “The first game is called ‘Pass the Napkin’! There will be two teams of three people, and it’ll be a competition to see which team passes more napkins in one minute.”

The guys just looked at one another with contemplative faces. This game seemed simple enough...or so they thought.

“There’s one special rule!” Tendou’s eyes glinted under the lights. “You can only pass the napkin with your mouths! No hands! No other body parts!”

Many faces grew pale at the “special” rule. Yamagata brings a hand up to his forehead regretfully. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

Ignoring his former teammate’s exasperation, Tendou continues his explanation. “Each team will have two baskets: one full of napkins and one that is empty so that you can place the ones you’ve successfully passed. Team A is gonna be Wakatoshi-kun, Tsutomu, and Reon! The other two including me will be on Team B! Perfect even teams with 6 people!”

Ohira takes a brief moment to think. “Now that you mention it, Kawanishi isn't here.”

“He said he had a date, so he couldn’t make it today,” Semi answers. Although, Kawanishi’s absence seems to be in his favor at the moment.

“Let’s get started!” Tendou passes you his phone with the timer app opened as all of the teams make their way towards their respective napkin baskets. “Please count us off, (Name)-chan!”

All of the guys are staring at you as they wait for your signal, and you let out an inaudible sigh. “3...2...1...Start!”

Ohira and Tendou, who are the first people in their respective teams, begin inhaling a napkin with their mouths. The game has begun.

In Team B, Semi looks mildly uncomfortable, but Tendou spares no time and immediately passes the napkin to the former’s mouth. The redhead doesn’t even give Semi any time to comprehend anything as he goes for another napkin swiftly. As Semi turns to the last person in the group, Yamagata just shrugs his shoulders and takes the napkin quickly before blowing it away into the other basket. The three seem to realize that passing the napkins in rapid succession shortens the time of contact between each other and increase their pace with each napkin.

Team A doesn’t seem to be going as smoothly. Goshiki is the middleman and hesitantly receives each napkin from Ohira with flushed cheeks that only seem to be getting darker as time passes. There is an evident pause every time the youngest team member needs to pass the napkin to Ushijima. For some reason, Goshiki also seems to make frequent eye contact with you as he’s passing the napkin to the older pro athlete before quickly averting his eyes with an even deeper blush. As a result, Goshiki drops the napkins several times.

“S-s-sorry, Ushijima-san! I’ll get the next one!”

Both teams continue transferring napkins from one basket to another for a couple more seconds. Glancing at the timer, you see that there are about 10 seconds left. You open your mouth to start counting down the remaining seconds but a sharp, horrified gasp stops you. As you direct your attention towards the source of the noise, Goshiki’s posture is tense and he’s making a strange face at the opposing team. Shifting your gaze to his line of sight, you understand what had caused the poor boy to be in such a state of shock.

A lone napkin flutters onto the floor as silence creeps through the air. Yamagata is leaning forward in Semi’s direction while the latter has his hands anchored onto his teammate’s shoulders. Their lips are connected with nothing to separate the physical contact, but both males are too shocked to make any motion. Mortified expressions from Yamagata and Semi tell you that this predicament was not intentional.

“Oya?~”

Tendou’s sudden disturbance seems to break everyone out of the trance. The timer goes off at this moment as well and a cacophony of noises fill the room. Semi and Yamagata jump away from each other aggressively. The grey-haired male sprints to the bathroom to scrub down his mouth as Yamagata vigorously rubs a handful of napkins onto his lips. Tendou begins to cackle rather loudly while Ohira just lets out an amused chuckle. Goshiki becomes a sputtering mess, red spreading across his whole body. Ushijima blinks absentmindedly.

You watch the chaos unfold and notice Shirabu closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in disappointment. It takes a minute for everyone to get their bearings and Semi returns from the bathroom bashfully. He glances at Yamagata briefly. “That never happened?”

“That never happened,” Yamagata firmly agrees.

Tendou seems to have calmed down a bit because, before you know it, he already has both napkin baskets in his arms, one obviously more full than the other. “Team B is the winner!”

Ushijima is the only one to start clapping while everyone else just sweatdrops at the redhead. Tendou puts away the baskets and turns towards the group once again. “All of Team A will be moving onto the next game since they lost! Team B is exempt from paying!”

You watch as the lanky man saunters over to the counter and Osamu hands him a tray with three small rice balls. You make eye contact with your boss and he just gives you a smirk.

Tendou proceeds to explain the next game. “For the next round, there is one rice ball filled with delicious seasoned meat while the other two are filled with wasabi! The three participants must pick one of the rice balls to eat. Whoever chooses the tasty rice ball will be exempt from paying and the other two people will move on to the final game! (Name)-chan will pick a random name from this conveniently premade bag of names to see who will choose a rice ball first! Everyone will eat the rice balls at the same time though for fun!”

Yamagata gestures you to put your hand inside of a small black bag filled with what you assumed were the three names from the losing team written down on pieces of paper. You reach in and grab one of the papers and take it out of the bag before reading out the name. “Ohira Reon.”

Ohira makes his way over to where the tray was and picks up the rice ball in the middle without hesitation. He seemed pretty confident in his decision, but you didn’t really get the chance to question it as Tendou grabs your attention once again. “Please pick the next name!”

You turn back to Yamagata and reach out to grab another name out of the bag. Your hand stops right as your fingers graze the hem. You blink once and realize that the bag looked a bit different from before; it now seemed to be a more navy blue color. Wasn’t the bag black before?

Noticing your reluctance, Yamagata shoves the rest of your hand into the bag and gives you a suspicious yet pleading look. You inwardly sigh and proceed to pick out a name. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

The tall volleyball player chooses the rice ball to the far left leaving Goshiki to take the last one left without a choice. Tendou placed the tray down with a satisfied smile. “Now that everyone has a rice ball, it’s time to eat!”

Ushijima, Goshiki, and Ohira all consumed their rice balls in one bite. There were only chewing noises as everyone waited for any reactions. All of a sudden, Goshiki doubled over and threw a hand over his mouth.

You panicked. “Woah! I wasn’t joking about the vomit! You better not throw up on this floor!”

Terrified by your warning, Goshiki immediately ran towards the nearest trash can and practically stuck half of his head into it. Although he was able to control himself enough to avoid regurgitating everything in his stomach, he desperately spit out the entire rice ball with wasabi and tried his best to get rid of as much residue as he could.

You turned your attention back to the other two people who had eaten a rice ball, curious to see the other victim. Ohira wiped his hands on his pants with a content smile as he continued to savor his delicious snack. Ushijima, on the other hand, stood in his usual stoic stance.

“That was quite spicy.”

It truly is a wonder how someone could remain so composed in situations like this.

“The losers are Wakatoshi-kun and Tsutomu! Get ready for the last game to see who will pay for all of the food!” Tendou exclaims excitedly, completely ignoring the younger boy that’s now leaning over the counter in despair. “The final round is called ‘Find the Volleyball’! The two players will both be blindfolded and they will need to search for the volleyball that we will hide in this room. Whoever finds the volleyball first wins the game and the ultimate loser will be the one to pay for everything!”

Tendou takes out two sports towels and a volleyball from Ushijima’s duffel bag. He passes the towels to Ushijima and Goshiki so that they could begin blindfolding themselves. The others are just lounging around and waiting for the next game to begin. You notice that Ushijima is having some trouble keeping the towel over his eyes as he tries to tie it behind his head. Without thinking too much, you walk over to where he’s standing. “Ushijima-san, do you want some help?”

“Ah, yes. I’m having some trouble keeping this in place. Do you mind holding the towel over my eyes?”

“Yeah, sure!” For a moment, you take in his tall stature and smile sheepishly. “But, you might have to bend down a bit for me. You’re quite tall.”

Ushijima complies to your request and slightly bends his back as he places the towel over his eyes once again. You bring up your hands to his face and your fingers gently brush against his as you replace his hands with your own over the towel. The blindfold starts to fall a bit so your hold on the male’s face reflexively tightens a bit, your hands practically cupping Ushijima’s face. You start to lean forward to get a good look at the blindfold to make sure there are no gaps, not realizing how close you truly were to the volleyball player.

On the other side of the room, Goshiki’s eyes widen at the suggestive position you and Ushijima are standing in. He was just about to wear his own blindfold, but was struck by a great idea. “(Surname)-san, can you-”

“Tsutomu! You look like you need some help!” Tendou swiped the towel from Goshiki’s hands and immediately covered his eyes forcefully. “I can help you!”

Goshiki gasped in discomfort. “Ah! Tendou-san, you almost poked my eyes!”

Ushijima was finally able to successfully tie the towel around his head and you took this as your cue to pull away. He straightened his back and nodded his head in your direction. “Thank you, (Surname)-san.”

“No problem,” you reply with a grin.

Since both males were properly blindfolded, the game was ready to commence. However, instead of hiding the volleyball, Semi held onto it. You were a bit confused since you remember that the rule was to find the hidden volleyball, but at this point, you don’t even want to question these guys anymore. Tendou stood off to the side and projected his voice loud and clear, “The game starts…Now!”

Semi immediately passed the ball to Ohira and some of the guys who weren’t participating began to pass the ball amongst each other silently. Ushijima and Goshiki both reach out their arms in front of them cautiously to protect themselves from running into things. Although, their efforts were in vain as Goshiki stubs his foot on one of the chairs with a yelp and crouches to the ground in distress. Ushijima manages to knock over a bottle of soy sauce from the counter, but he doesn’t seem to realize what happened as he turns around and continues his search. Fortunately, the bottle didn’t shatter, but there is now a puddle of soy sauce coating the floor. You sigh as you grab a handful of napkins and make your way towards the mess.

Goshiki seems to have changed strategies and is now crawling along the floor with one arm in front of him. He bumps into another chair and lifts his arm higher to steady himself. Suddenly, his hand came in contact with a round object that felt firm like a volleyball. “Yes! I found it!”

At his exclamation, everyone in the room shot their gaze to where Goshiki was and paled. Ushijima raised the towel obscuring his vision to see what was going on. Even Shirabu’s jaw dropped substantially. At this moment, Yamagata was in possession of the volleyball that was definitely not anywhere near the younger boy.

In broad daylight, Goshiki’s right hand was placed on your butt. You felt every one of your nerves kicking into overdrive as soon as your body overcame the initial shock. Spinning around abruptly, you deliver somewhat of a roundhouse kick to the poor, blindfolded boy’s body and he ends up tumbling backwards dramatically. His pained groans snap you out of your exasperation and immediately kneel down to check on him. “Oh, sh-! Are you okay, Goshiki-san?”

With your help, Goshiki is able to take off his blindfold and sit upright. “W-what happened? Where’s the volleyball? Did I beat Ushijima-san?!”

“N-not exactly…” You play with strands of your hair unconsciously out of embarrassment. “Sorry about kicking you so hard.”

“But, I thought I felt the ball just now? Why does Yamagata-san have it? What else could I have been touching? And, why did you kick me? Unless…” Goshiki’s expression suddenly shifts from confusion to absolute horror as he starts to connect all the dots. He begins to shriek at the realization and he almost slams his head onto the floor in order to bow in apology. “I’M SO SORRY, (SURNAME)-SAN! IT WAS A COMPLETE ACCIDENT!”

You try to reassure Goshiki that you’re not angry at him. “I-it’s okay. I know it wasn’t on purpose!”

“Nice kick, (Surname)-san.”

“10/10.”

“Would pay to see that again.”

As voices fill the air, that’s when you realize that you were still in a room full of other people and your cheeks flush pink once again. The rest of the guys were observing the whole interaction between the two of you in amusement.

Tendou gave you an apologetic smile but still seemed satisfied with how this ‘competition’ went. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Alright! Congratulations to Tsutomu for winning the game!”

“Huh? I thought neither of them found the volleyball in the end,” Semi commented.

“Well, Wakatoshi-kun took off his blindfold first before anyone found the volleyball, so he automatically forfeited.” Tendou faced his best friend. “It’s for the best. You make the most money out of all of us, Wakatoshi-kun!”

Ushijima nodded his head in acceptance and proceeded to take out his wallet. “I cannot deny that.”

“WAIT A MINUTE!” Suddenly, Goshiki jumped up from his position and pointed at his peers. “WERE YOU TRYING TO MAKE USHIJIMA-SAN PAY THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“Yup.” Four males voices all answered at once.

“THEN, WHY DID WE PLAY THE GAMES?!”

“‘Cause it’s fun.”

The four males continue to tease their youngest friend and you sigh for the umpteenth time today. Ushijima walks over to stand next to you and hands you the total payment for the food. “I believe this is enough to cover everyone.”

You spend a couple seconds counting the money before looking back up to the broad shouldered man beside you. “Yup, looks right to me. Thanks.”

Before you could make your way to the register, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. Turning your head, you see Ushijima’s hand inches away from where you felt the sensation and you’re surprised by what he says next. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” You blink in confusion.

“You looked very uncomfortable before.”

It doesn’t take you long to realize that he’s talking about what had conspired during the last game. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you for asking, Ushijima-san. You don’t have to worry about it too much. I wouldn’t mind if you or your other friends came by again after today either. I had a good time overall.”

“Ah. Then, I will take your word for it.” Ushijima gives you a small smile and then turns to walk back to his group of friends. The volleyball player doesn’t seem like the type of person to show much concern for other people due to his naturally stoic and aloof demeanor, but you were pleasantly surprised by his caring nature.

“Order’s ready, guys!” Osamu places multiple bags of food onto the counter. “I don’t mean to mess with your outing, but we are about to close, so you won’t be able to stay for too long.”

“No worries. I think we’ve extended our stay here long enough.” Shirabu assured your boss after being quiet for quite some time. “We’ll probably head over to Goshiki’s apartment anyways.”

“What?!”

Everyone ignored the boy’s outburst and started to grab all their food. As the Shiratorizawa alumni started walking out of the door the night air was filled with shouts of byes and thank yous. Shirabu turned to you one last time before following his friends. “We should keep in contact, (Surname)-san. You still have my number, right? I can also let you know if I hear about any other programs for graduate schools during my internships.”

“I do! I really appreciate it. I’ll see you again sometime, Shirabu-san!” You give him a final wave and he leaves through the exit lifting up a hand behind his shoulder in acknowledgement.

Today was definitely not what you expected from what started out as a slow, normal week.

“Still tired?” Your boss questioned you once again.

You smile as you remember him asking the same question a few hours back. “Exhausted, but strangely refreshed. Is that weird?”

“Definitely a contradiction.” He laughed at your answer. “You got yourself roped into an interesting group of people today. Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth though.”

A mild blush spread across your face as you start to stutter. “I-I normally don’t, but…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Your boss gives you a thoughtful look and subtly smirks at your reaction.

Recovering from your flushed appearance, you gesture a hand towards a certain box on top of the counter. “Did you want to try one of the chocolates? You’ll understand once you get a taste of it.”

“Why not?”

After quickly washing your hands in the sink, you slide over the box Tendou had given you and open it on the counter space next to Osamu. Your fingers snatch up a star-shaped chocolate and casually bring it up to his mouth. The taller male doesn’t think much of your actions and allows you to feed him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. After everything that happened today, your mind can only briefly sense that your fingers made contact with your boss’ lips. Although, your heart does linger on the fact that Osamu’s lips are much softer than what you expected.

Once the chocolate is fully consumed, Osamu lets out a satisfied hum. “Those Shiratorizawa folks sure know what they’re doing despite the craziness that follows them. Actually, there’s something else I want to ask you. You said you went to the same university as Shirabu-san, right?”

“Yup!”

“When did you graduate?”

You look up to the ceiling as you think. “Um...Maybe around a week ago?”

There’s a slight pause as Osamu takes in what you had just told him. “What?! I had no idea! Did you celebrate with your friends too?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I never really had a lot of friends since I was working so much in college and the ones that I’m close with are all overseas already.”

Osamu nodded his head in understanding. “Well, I got nothing against spending some relaxing alone time, but did you at least treat yourself with a cake or something?”

“I’m not really used to buying things for myself. It’s fine, though. I’m pretty used to pushing aside stuff like this.” You shrug your shoulders to emphasize your carefree attitude. Although, your eyes held a hint of sadness that Osamu would’ve missed if he didn’t have his full attention on you. “Plus, I didn’t even get accepted into grad school, so there’s not much to celebrate there.”

“How come it never came up in any of our conversations?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think anyone else cared.”

“...” Osamu stays silent and a slight somber atmosphere permeates the air. He contemplates about something for a moment before suddenly snapping his fingers. You look at him curiously and he just gives you his signature grin without telling you what he just thought of. Instead, he places a hand on your head and begins to pat it gently. “I don’t know how much it means coming from me, but you did well. I’m sure you’ve worked hard, (Name)-san.”

You felt a slight sting in your eyes and lowered your head so that your boss couldn’t see how much of an effect he had on you. “Thanks, Osamu-san.”

A/N: make way for ushiwaka everyone. and yes, osamu loves to just sit back and watch all the chaos unfold

taglist: @dinablossom

#onigiri miya #onigiri miya tidbits #secretpeachtea #shiratorizawa #ushijima #tendou #semi #shirabu #goshiki #ohira #yamagata

57 notes · View notes

reincarnated70sbaby · 3 years

Text

star crossed

-chapter four-

*disclaimer: this work is entirely fiction, all scenes with real life people presented in this work are entirely fictitious.*

word count : 2.4k

warnings : angst! (af!) swearing ? charlie watts being unbothered as ever, did i mention angst?

<<previous chapter

next chapter>>

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

After a couple drinks in, the conversation of recording a track started up. Jimmy was actually quite excited, a Rolling Stones and Jimmy Page track was bound to happen sometime. Sure, Jimmy had played with them in his session days, but not anything to the extent of actually being featured and credited for the track. They decided to come back tomorrow to Bill’s home studio to record a track that might feature on the upcoming Goats Head Soup album. Two nights previous, he finished up the English leg of the 72/73 tour. In a couple weeks, Led Zeppelin would be embarking on their biggest tour yet - the 73 North American tour. There was plans to record a concert film and album, and Jimmy was really hopeful everything would work out.

“Lads I’m about to fucking pass out here, I’m out, see you all tomorrow yeah?”

“All right Jim, see y’a tomorrow, not to early mate right?”

After agreeing to come in the early afternoon with Bill , he bid goodnight to the rest of crew there, Charlie and the pianist for the album, Nicky. Sure, they weren’t as wild as the Toxic Twins, but they were still good company - better than getting drunk in his hotel room alone.

Walking back to his hotel room, the walk felt much longer than 10 minutes. Even though it was the beginning of February, and therefore the start of spring, he had to wrap his arms around himself to preserve body heat.

Reaching the hotel lobby, he was met with the warm air of the large room. Red carpets and gold accents adorned the room. It was quite late in the night - or early in the morning, so he decided to skip going to the bar in hopes of picking up a partner and instead, head straight to his room. On his way into the elevator, he passed two women, both wearing sunglasses. He thought that peculiar, and even more peculiar, he thought he recognised the woman with short brunette hair. After attempting to place the woman, he concluded he was in no state of mind to try.

Laying down on his bed, his thoughts wondered to Alice. He hadn’t heard anything about her since they were last together. He wasn’t even sure if she was still in the music business. He wondered would he ever see her again. He hoped he would, but a feeling in his gut told him it would happen eventually. Sooner, or later, he thought.

Waking up slightly hungover, he showered and prepared for the day of recording ahead. It wasn’t to be a serious session, more of a jam of sorts and hopefully produce a track in the process.

Strolling casually into Bill’s recording studio, he noticed that, as per usual, everybody was there expect Mick. On second look he noticed that Mick Taylor was not there either.

“Where are the Mick’s?”

“I think Jagger is just late, but oh, theres Taylor there now!”

Just as Keith finished speaking, Mick Taylor walked in, guitar case in hand. This would be the first time Jimmy and Mick played together, and he hoped they would get on well.

“Jimmy, great to see you again, ready to play?”

“Nice to see you too, lets get down to it shall we boys?”

Mick Jagger had finally arrived, so he and Keith were working on lyrics, while Charlie and Bill were working on rhythms and riffs, leaving Jimmy and Mick Taylor to work out the main guitar melody. They worked really well together, as they both had the same blues origins and both loved incorporating it into new material.

“So who's the sound tech here anyway” Jimmy asked, while in the process of tuning his guitar down.

“Allie, she's been with us for the album, she's great, have you met her before?”

“Hmm, the name doesn't sound familiar I don't think”

“Well she had an appointment, so she’ll probably be here within the next hour” Mick commented, a shy smile coming onto his face when mentioning her.

After around half an hour of messing around, the boys were finally ready to start the recording tapes. All that stopped then was the missing sound tech.

“Good afternoon boys, I, being your guardian angel have brought lunch for all of us” Alice said cheerily, bursting through the door with a bright smile.

Jimmy’s head shot up at the sound of her voice, suddenly connecting all the dots. The feeling in his gut about meeting her, the woman in the hotel, and the ‘Allie’ nickname.

“Oh thank you Alice, forgot to mention we invited a special guest to join our entourage, last night at Bill’s after you and Taylor left” spoke Mick Jagger with his usual eloquence.

“Alice!”

“Jimmy” Alice replied curtly, a hint of sourness in her blank expression. Jimmy was now in front of Alice, greeting her.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, its been what, nearly four years! I didn’t even know if you were still an audio tech” Jimmy said warmly, excited to see her again

“I would say it’s a pleasure to see you too, but its not, so I wont” Alice casually said, blanking him, and moving further into the room. She set the bags of fresh food on the table, in the back of the recording section of the large hall. Jimmy watched her walk away casually, totally taken off guard by her coldness. The rest of the Stones all caught this too, extremely confused, but a little entertained by their encounter.

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Keith asked, a small smirk on his lips, pointing between the two.

“I would say used to know, I was on of the engineers on Zeppelin II in 69”

“Hold on, I didn’t know you worked Zeppelin II? That means you must have been a teenager when you worked on it. Blimey” Mick, asked, all of this coming news to him, as well to the others.

“I suppose you wouldn’t, after all I wasn’t even credited, nor my boss Tom” Alice said coolly, still not turning away from setting up the various soups and sandwiches.

Obviously, the teenage Alice that Jimmy once knew was long gone.

“God, Allie you look so old, what are you now? Twenty four, twenty five” Jimmy asked, sampling the new nickname, trying to break the stifling awkwardness that now infected the room.

“Still getting my age wrong I see, Jimmy. Im surprised you still know my name, after all the stunts you pulled over the last four years” Alice replied, walking directly towards Jimmy, accompanied with razor sharp glare. She now stood directly on front of him, slightly invading his personal space. She has grown taller and her face matured, loosing the slight roundness to her cheeks she once possessed. She apparently had cut off her long wavy crimson locks, in favour of a modern, dark brown bob.

“Uh, what’re you talking about?” Jimmy asked chuckling nervously as he scratched his head, hoping she wouldn’t notice his feigned innocence.

“Oh I’m sure you know, as does everyone else in this room. I don't really have the energy to continue this irrelevant conversation, or frankly, any conversation in general with you at this point. Also, it’s Alice to you” Alice stated sternly with a finger pointed to his chest. Jimmy could practically see the ice swirling in her cool blue eyes, the eyes he had come to miss over the years. He had never had encountered her true, red headed temperament. Now that he was on the receiving end, he desperately wanted to stay away from it.

“I’m not really hungry anyway, so I’ll be in the mod room if you guys need me” Alice said, directing her words to everyone but Jimmy, before leaving and entering the conjoining mod room. Mick Taylor quickly set his down his burnt orange Les Paul, then followed Alice out of the room.

“Woah, I haven’t seen drama like this since the last time Mick and Bowie had an arguement - which was last week, I think hmm” Keith remarked with a sarcastic finger on his chin, before moving to serve himself some soup.

“Actually Keef, I think this charade is a lot more entertaining than David’s and I’s little tiffs, as this is bit more of a lovers quarrel”

“Better not let Taylor hear that, or he’ll have to have a word with you Pagey” Bill commented, wide grin now on his face.

Jimmy was now the confused one. He turned to Charlie, silently asking him about Alice and Mick with the point of his finger. Charlie simply shrugged his shrugged his shoulders in response before going back to drumming a riff with the hi-hats and snare drums.

After everybody had ate or, cooled off, recording was finally underway. After a couple of takes, Alice interrupted to give some pointers.

“Look boys, I’m gonna be candid with you all. It sounds shit” Alice said into the mic. Ever since she had gotten more experience under belt, she became renowned for her no bullshit opinions. In turn, people valued her honestly and knew what she said was, more often than not, right.

“Yeah, boys let’s not sugarcoat it, we’re not exactly gelling as one” Keith commented, starting to become fed up with having to balance not only Mick Jaggers usual dramatics, but another egotistical lead guitarist in the mix.

“Okay, what do you think love?” Mick Taylor asked softly, trying to keep the peace before something erupted. He wasn’t wrong, the Stones, along with a quarter of Led Zeppelin, and a hot headed tech was a bit of a lethal cocktail. Fights often combusted quickly between the Stones and Alice, as all members were just as stubborn as each other.

“Well it sounds like there’s 5 Stones, and 25% Led Zeppelin playing. What I want, and what fans want to hear is The Stones featuring Jimmy Page. You five need to change your usual routine of recording for once and mix it up. And you” she looked to Jimmy “need to stop pretending you’re with the other boys. You both need to work with each others strengths and quit overcompensating. Stop pretending you’re something you’re not”

Everybody in the entire house probably could pick up that the last sentence was a direct jab to Jimmy. Another awkward silence passed, ultimately stemming from a staring contest between Alice and the famed guitarist.

“Oh my fucking god, kill me now” Mick muttered, pinching his nose, while Charlie just rolled his eyes and started drumming the start of the song. Eventually Keith started the riff with Mick Taylor,along with Bill and Charlie carrying the bass and percussion, and Mick Jagger singing the lyrics. Only when they reached the solo part, did Jimmy break eye contact with Alice and begin playing.

Finishing up recording, the boys all started to leave. Mick and Jimmy were the last to pack up their stuff, and an uncomfortable air fell over them. Obviously they both either had history, or were making history with Alice. Eventually Mick realised he should probably let the pair talk it out, so, as Jimmy toward the mod room door, Mick moved toward the hallway door.

“Alice, can we talk? Obviously things have become a bit strained between us, and I don’t want it to stay like this” Jimmy started softly. It was probably his choice of words that set Alice off, as immediately after his finished she whipped around from the sound board and kicked off.

“ 'Strained' Jimmy, are you serious?! Strained?! First of all, you didn’t even tell me you weren’t mixing the album with us, and then you just left after our night together. Then- don’t try to interrupt me James. Then, you barely even credit Tom for his songwriting tips on the album. You didn’t even mention me once, even whenever anyone brings up that Theremin part in ‘Whole Lotta Love’! You blush and go on to explain how it was your own fantastic brain that thought of it. The you had the audacity to diss Mystic studios in the papers! What was it you said again? Oh yeah, 'Mystic Studios was far from mystical and closer to meagre, and as a result, the workers were too.” Alice snarled, stream practically blowing out her ears.

“Okay, I agree that comment about Mystics’s capabilities was definitely wrong, I was extremely out of it in that interview- hell I even jibed Atlantic Records!” Jimmy was now getting frustrated too. Normally, no one put him in his place, or gave out to him.

“And then how cold you were about Tom!”

“Wait what happened with Tom?” Jimmy inquired, now serious.

“Oh my fucking god Jimmy” Alice shouted at him “you don’t even remember to you?” She said with a laugh. She searched his face, but all she saw was confusion in his light grey eyes.

“Tom had a fucking stroke last year. Peter told you, and don’t you dare deny it, as he told me he informed you all when I spoke to him on the phone. For Christ’s sake even Bonzo rang to see how he was doing! He didn’t even have my number, but he found it anyway! Robert and John joined the call after he finished speaking. When I asked for you, they said you were in a closet fucking a groupie!”

“Look Alice, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to sa-”

“I’m not surprised Jimmy, it’s a marvel you can play guitar at all, with having no fucking sense in your thick head”

“Stop being so fucking rude to me, you’re not perfect either! Don’t act so high and mighty! I know what went on in Geffen records! I’m mates with David Geffen” Jimmy was no shouting too. At the mention of David Geffen, Alice’s face immediately switched from red to a pale white.

“You do not know what happened between myself and David, if you did, you wouldn’t speak to him ever again” Alice spoke low and slowly, her face now white as a sheet.

Unbeknownst to the pair, all of the Stones were listening outside. When they heard Jimmy shouting about Geffen, Mick Taylor had enough and burst in. The rest of the boys tried to stop him, but he broke free.

“Jimmy, stop it. You don’t know anything about the Geffen incident. You don’t know Alice anymore. I suggest you leave her alone before I step in more. Al, let’s go, our driver is outside.” Mick stretched his hand out to Alice, her eyes now watery, trying to bite down her quivering lip.

Alice immediately joined Mick, and left without a second look to Jimmy.

Jimmy, now alone in the mod room, felt his gut twist with guilt. Had something bad happened with David Geffen and Alice? His mind wondered to Mick’s choice of words -‘incident’. He had heard rumours that were more damaging on David’s behalf, but being friendly with him, he thought he knew him better than all the tabloids and industry gossip.

Jimmy realised that both he and Alice had changed drastically in the last four years, how could he have expected everything to go back to how it was in the summer of ‘69? Now, they were even more distant than ever before.

Maybe they had missed their chance at eternity. Maybe the stars had uncrossed.

His heart nearly broke at the revelation.

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

ok so chapter four !!!

I wanna write angst more often it’s my guilty pleasure

anyway, I think this is my favourite piece I’ve written 😌

navigation

star crossed masterlist

tag list : @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey @dreamersdrowse

5 notes · View notes

nostalthicc · 4 years

Text

he’s not mine | jeff wittek

dad!jeff wittek x reader

summary: helping jeff raise his son was fun until she came back

warnings: angst, fluff, many mistakes

2.5k words

oliver was born may 28th, 2017

december 8th, 2017

y/n gave jeff a small smile as she stepped into his apartment, many baby toys were scattered across the floor along with camera equipment. she admired the cozy apartment, way bigger than hers but it felt homey. “i’m really sorry about this, i was completely rushing this morning and couldn’t realize i picked up the wrong phone.” she apologized as she handing jeff his phone back, thinking about the simple mistake she made this morning.

“i’m almost there!” y/n whispered into her phone. “please, stall a little bit longer, i didn’t think smoothies took this long.” she walked up to the counter, slamming her phone down, her foot tapped at a rapid pace as she wanted for her drinks to be done. y/n was so anxious she didn’t even notice the beautiful stranger place his phone right next to her own when he started to order.

“y/n?” her eyes lit up when the man called her name, she quickly got her drinks, phone, and a few napkins before she raced out of there. it wasn’t until after her presentation did y/n realize she had taken the wrong phone, the screensaver wasn’t hers, the text messages coming through sure weren’t hers and the phone numbers looked unfamiliar. she started going into panic mode, how was she supposed to get through the day without her phone or let alone knowing who had her phone.

she recognized her number pop up on the screen, she rushed out of class without a word, causing all heads to turn towards her but she could care less. y/n had important information on that phone she didn’t want getting out. “hello?” she answered, her voice shaking a bit.

the stranger was quiet for a few seconds. “i didn’t think thieves answered the phone they stole or left their own behind.” the masculine voice responded causing a wave a relief to flood over y/n.

“i promise i wasn’t trying to steal your phone! i was in a rush this morning and i didn’t even notice- i really wasn’t trying to steal anything-” she stopped rambling when she heard a low chuckle come from the opposite line. “i promise i wasn’t.”

“i figured, i’m just messing with you.” he said, still continuing to laugh. “uh, so y/n, are you free right now to switch back? i can text you the address,” he asked after gaining his composure. y/n quickly answered with a yes, climbing into her car. her anxiety grew as she got closer to the stranger’s house, y/n already knew he had seen her private messages, she didn’t have a password on her phone and was not logged out of any of her social media accounts. but she was slightly relieved for her irresponsibility because he wouldn’t have been able to call her otherwise.

“you should probably pay a little bit more attention next time.” he teased, grabbing her phone off the kitchen table, returning it to her. although he was supposed to be filming a video he did find humor behind the situation, how many times do you run into someone with an identical phone and case as you. “and you should probably put a password on your phone.”

y/n sighed, starring down at the floor. “how much did you see?”

“enough to know you’re in deep shit.” jeff decided not to sugarcoat it for this girl. it was not looking great for her. “i mean cmon’ sleeping with your professor- and in no way am i trying to pry but it just seems a little too risky.”

“i know, i know, i’m just right at the end and he’s threatening me. i just can’t go down this close to the end.” y/n explained and it was all true, he paid for her housing, tuition, and held her future right in the palm of his hand. she didn’t know why she was explaining this to a guy she just met but he was as of now the only person that knew. she told him about how her professor is blackmailing her, about her father’s will opening when she graduates, the perfect job waiting for her when she gets out of college and he just sat there listening like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

for the first time in a long time, jeff realized people who came from well-supported backgrounds could have complicated lives as well. they were interrupted by the loud wails of his son in the bedroom. jeff excused him before returning with a baby in his arms. he watched as y/n’s eyes light up at the chubby baby cuddling into his father. “you like babies?”

“like would be an understatement, i love babies!” she gushed, trying to contain her excitement while starring at the child. jeff walked over to y/n, gently placing his son in her arms. she gladly took him but looked up at jeff as if asking for permission, he gave her a grin before going back to his seat across the couch. y/n placed the baby’s feet on her knees as she admired his adorable face. “you might be the cutest baby i’ve ever seen, look at your cheeks.” her baby voice surfaced when she started talking to the baby, completely ignoring his father. he let out a toothless grin, showing off his gums. “are you smiling? are you happy?”

“his name is oliver.”

y/n lifted oliver off of her lap, setting him back on her lap. “hello, oliver. aren’t you just the cutest?” olive squealed again, earning a giggle from y/n. “yes, yes you are.”

june 17th, 2018

“no, please, please tell me it’s not more clothes,” jeff cried, watching y/n walk into the apartment with numerous bags dangling around her arms. ever since the pair became official y/n had taken it into her own hands to spoil oliver and jeff occasionally. she had become the motherly figure in his life, curing jeff of being a single father.

y/n dropped all her bags directly on the floor by the front door, along with her jacket and purse to see her little sunshine who was playing with a yellow school bus and firetruck on the floor next to jeff. “hi, baby!” she said lifting him off the floor. “did you eat this morning?” she scratched his belly before turning to jeff, he gave her a thumbs-up without even tearing his eyes away from the computer screen. y/n rolled her eyes returning her attention back to oliver who remained swinging his truck around in the air. “do you wanna have a fashion show for your daddy? i think he would like that, wouldn’t he? we could show off our new clothes.”

jeff’s ears perked at her words but he didn’t look at her, he would have plenty of time for that. it’s why he played extra hard with oliver and let him stay up an hour past his nap time. alone time for the couple didn’t come often with a baby, even though they always seemed to find time for it. always.

even though jeff hated y/n buying oliver new clothes almost every week, he had to admit he always looked adorable in them. he would constantly say his son could pull off anything, which was true. the last outfit was a sleeper with bear ears on the hood, bears on the feet and a brown fluffy tail on the butt. oliver was becoming cranking and begging to be put in his crib, even he could feel the sexual tension rising from the two.

january 10th, 2019

“okay, one last present.” jeff said, pulling out a bag from behind the counter. y/n furrowed her eyebrows together as she looked at the yellow bag, she had told jeff not to go overboard and he had already given her an abundance of gifts, she really had no idea what this could be. she plucked the variety of colored papers out of the bag before reaching her hand into the bag, her hand was met with a soft fabric.

“a onesie, oh jee, thanks. is this your pregnancy announcement?” y/n was sarcastic because she was still beyond confused what jeff was doing.

“shut up and turn it around.”

y/n did as she was told, turning the onesie towards her face. to say she was shocked was an understatement, many emotions ran through her brain while reading the text.

‘yeah i’m cute, i get it from my mama’

jeff and y/n had never actually talked about what oliver was going to address her as when he started talking, so for jeff to surprise her with this made her heart spin like crazy. y/n ran from her seat to hug him, soft sobs coming from her lips, mixed with a series of thank-yous.

november 21st, 2019

jeff walked in the kitchen with a towel around his waist, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, little droplets of water fell from his hair onto his toned chest. y/n’s mouth watered as she stared at her boyfriend, she wanted nothing more than to push him back into the shower with her but she had more pressing matters at the moment. mini jeff. she had been trying to get oliver to eat all morning but he was settled on throwing it her instead of eating.

“ollie, baby, please eat this,” she begged, a small whine leaving her lips. he was already not eating enough, underweight, and not talking. he was just turned two. all the doctors gave the same the response:

“he’s just a little behind, wait a few weeks.”

“don’t worry he’ll be talking in no time.”

“everything will be okay, just give it time.”

jeff and y/n were tired of giving it time, the suspense was eating away at them, they really just wanted to know how to help oliver.

y/n gave up on trying to get the baby boy to eat and instead let him play with his toys on the floor. jeff reentered the room, with clothes on this time. “stop worrying, please.” he said, kissing her forehead a few times, y/n went to defend herself but jeff cut her off. “i can see the worry of your face. we’ll be fine, go help erin and carly, we’re having a boys weekend.” she looked up at her boyfriend, pouting. she didn’t want to leave the boys, y/n has grown very attached to both of them. “go, before they kick my ass for holding you here for so long.”

2 days later

y/n had a lot of fun even though she was away from her boys but she was reading by the end of the weekend to go home. she missed her bed. erin and carly were horrible roommates, y/n couldn’t see how they lived together, they both snored extremely loud and kicked anyone in the bad next to them. but no amount of back pain could have prepared her for what she was about to walk into. the first thing y/n noticed when she trailed into the house was the play pin surround oliver, she thought they had agreed he didn’t need one, the second was the smell, it smelt strongly of lavender in through the apartment. y/n hated lavender with a passion, it caused a rash to form on her chest whenever she was around it.

“are you the babysitter?” a woman’s voice brought y/n out of her thoughts. “i don’t know what time you usually come but we don’t need you anymore,” she spoke dry and uninterested, the woman was cleaning out a new set of bottles, ones with strange nipples oliver didn’t like.

y/n decided to ignore the lady, she didn’t care about her. she wanted to see her baby and jeff. she made her way over to the play pin, oliver squealed when he saw, waddling his way to edge. y/n willingly wrapped the boy in her arms, breathing in his familiar shampoo. at least that didn’t change.

“what are you doing? i told you to leave- jeff!” the woman was beginning to grow frustrated with y/n, especially when she reached for her baby. both females watched jeff scurry into the room, looking for a problem but his eyes only met y/n’s confused stare. “she won’t leave, tell her we don’t need a nanny anymore.”

jeff turning to the woman as she continued to bitch. “just give me one second.” that was a straight jab to the chest for y/n, he didn’t even deny this crazy lady’s allegation and was starting to piece together who she was. “can we talk so a quick moment outside?” he asked, walking over to the girl.

“that’s-”

jeff began but y/n cut him off quickly. “polly? yeah, i figured.” y/n clutched tighter onto oliver, she was growing more and more afraid of losing him at this moment. “why is she here, jeff?”

“she wants to be in his life again, she said she was finally ready to be a mom.” he explained, oblivious to y/n’s breaking figure. “she texted me a few days back saying she wanted to meet him so i invited her over and they really did click.” y/n sighed sadly, she knew what was going to happen.

“so what? she wanted to meet up with ollie, our ollie ironically the weekend i was gone.” her sadness was morphing with anger, this isn’t fair to her. “god, jeff! what the fuck! she broke your heart and she’ll break his too, just wait! she wants your money! people like her don’t change!” she didn’t even notice she was crying into oliver reached up to touch a stray tear, her heart was splitting in half and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

she watched as his soft eyes turning angry. “i changed, did i not. or do you think i’m just like her, huh.” he seethed, defending polly like she had stuck with him through everything with their son. “just like the mother of my child?”

neither of them said anything for a long time, starring at one another wait for a counter. “i’m so stupid, so, so stupid.” she mumbled, y/n wiped the tears off her face before looking up at jeff. “what was this? was i some substitute while you waited for who you really wanted? oh my god, i gave up my whole life for you guys, i-i literally don’t have anything.” her breathing started to grow heavier and suddenly she went back right to the day she first met jeff, panicking in her class because she thought she had lost everything. y/n choked on a sob, suddenly handing oliver to jeff before sprinting down the hall.

y/n left jeff there wondering if he had made the right decision, she left him there having to watch his son cry for his mama, she left him there with a hole in his heart polly couldn’t fill. the only thing polly could fill was her wallet.

#jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek imagine #jefft wittek #david dobrik #scotty sire #zane hijazi #jason nash #carly incontro #josh peck #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #toddy smith #corinna kopf #erin gilfoy

412 notes · View notes

charlieknighte · 3 years

Text

a creature born / a fire set

Genfic - Background Samot/Samothes

Character Study - Family Angst - Found Family

3,512 words

A gift for BYZANTIUUM in the Secret Samol fandom exchange

content warnings: the horrors of war™, unhealthy family dynamics

Sometimes, as the son of gods runs with thieves and scoundrels, he thinks that it’s not so bad to have lost everything he once knew.

Sometimes, as Maelgwyn slogs down rows of army tents and lifts his face to his father’s volcano for the hundredth time that week, he feels as if this war is all he’s ever known.

The corner of Marielda that his army is situated in isn’t particularly pleasant, the flaming sea bracketing them in on three sides, the hot, moist air frizzing up Maelgwyn’s curls and bringing a never-ending sweat to his brow. Even at night, the sea never quite lets the city fall into darkness, sitting like a dim red horizon behind the cubes of bright yellow light cast by the army’s temporary lodgings. The sight used to be beautiful before it fell into monotony.

Tamsen, his second-in-command, follows close at Maelgwyn’s heels, her ever-present and barely concealed anger and contempt not much of a breath of fresh air. She doesn’t generally direct it at him, but he can feel it simmering in her speech as she reports the latest updates from the front-lines. She’s not one to sugarcoat things, not one to pretend the cost of this war is just numbers on a page. Sometimes Maelgwyn wonders if she hates his fathers for all of this. Sometimes he wonders if he can hate his fathers, but he knows that he could never bring himself to.

Do you love him? Samot had asked him the last time they spoke about Samothes, his tone of voice expectant, knowing the answer and only needing to present it to prove his point. When Maelgwyn was younger, he’d often worry that his fathers didn’t love each other anymore as they shook the house with their arguments. Now that he’s older, the truth that you can love someone and still hurt and hurt and hurt them makes him feel sick. Of course he loves him. Of course they both love him, and yet here they are.

As they grow close to Maelgwyn’s own tent, Tamsen reaches the end of her report and settles into gloomy silence. Maelgwyn tiredly asks, “Anything else, Tamsen?”

She snaps right back to professionalism. “There's been a scuffle between two lieutenants. Not the first time. Their captain wants you to have a word with the instigator.”

Maelgwyn blows his hair out of his face, half purposeful and half out of annoyance. It sticks to his forehead, and he has to swipe it out of the way instead, irritation mounting. He’d have much preferred to be able to continue to his bed in peace. “At what time?”

“Well, sir...” She stops in front of a tent and gestures. The path she’d taken him on must have been engineered to get this over with. Sometimes he nearly resents her efficiency. He suppresses a sigh and lifts the flap of the tent, stepping inside. It’s small, but not as cramped as a lower ranking officer’s bunk might be. At his intrusion, there’s some shuffling behind a curtain separating the beds from the cluttered, meagre living area.

“Lieutenant?” Maelgwyn asks, his voice stiff and formal and sounding like it comes from another person entirely.

There’s a groan and more shuffling, like someone turning over in bed. “What d’you want?”

Half-asleep, Maelgwyn guesses. And ill-mannered. “I heard about your run-in with your fellow lieutenant. Your captain sent me to have a word.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then an impassioned thrashing and indignant thump as the lieutenant gets out of bed. “Well, you can tell Thackeray that instead of snitching, next time he can come to me directly," he says vehemently, finally emerging from behind the curtain with a rumpled uniform he clearly only just threw on. "I'll kick his ass—" It takes him a remarkably short amount of time after recognizing Maelgwyn to gain a sense of composure and scramble into a salute. “I mean, I'll deal with him myself. Sir. Sorry.” He grimaces to himself for a moment before settling into a pleasantly blank expression.

Something about him stops Maelgwyn cold. He's barely even a teenager, but it’s not that—uncomfortably young troops are far too familiar around here. It’s just that he's so familiar. Brown skin and sharp eyes and curls cut according to Marieldan vogue, but too loose to be local. He looks more like a westerner. And something about his contemptuous self-assurance, even now that he’s being deferential—the shrewdness of his eyes—I'll kick his ass—somehow he jolts Maelgwyn back to his best times as a child, running through the streets of his village after his best friend, stolen pies in their sticky fingers, a similar sly gleam in her eye. Maelgwyn feels like all the wind has been knocked out of him at the intensity of the memory.

“What's your name?” he asks, mouth dry.

“Hitchcock, sir.” Underneath the formal tightness of his voice, he still sounds squirmy, like he’s expecting a punishment to be handed down any moment.

Maelgwyn sighs, rubs at his face. If only there was a way to phrase what he wonders without crossing a dozen lines. “Try not to get yourself killed.”

Hitchcock's carefully blank expression wrinkles a little bit, and he looks at Maelgwyn like he's grown an extra head. “Okay,” he says, clearly caught off-guard by the lack of formality or reprimands. Maelgwyn is still reeling. He wishes he could ask him if he knew a little girl in the plains, but he knows it’s impossible for him to have been alive back then. The unnatural length of his life is starting to catch up to him. The silence between them is beginning to drag on uncomfortably long. Hitchcock stares at him without any regard for etiquette. The intensity of his eyes is suddenly too much.

“As you were,” Maelgwyn says, self-conscious at having been seen in a moment of conflict. He backs up, floundering for the tent flap and stepping out before his grip on himself can start to slip. As he bursts out into the warm, muggy night haphazardly, Tamsen looks at him quizzically. He shakes his head to clear it and squares his shoulders again, as a general should. “Anything else to report?”

“Nothing, sir.” She cuts her eyes away from him, pretending not to have seen his moment of weakness.

“Then you’re dismissed for the night.”

Some nights, he almost regrets dismissing her. Those are the nights when he’s too heartsick to pretend that it doesn’t hurt when his soldiers’ laughter grows quiet as he passes them, when they keep their expressions stiff and serious around him as if they think that’s what he wants. They’re the nights that he wishes he could sit around a fire and trade war stories with someone without being afraid of revealing too much.

Maelgwyn quietly imagines that as Tamsen clicks her heels together sharply and salutes. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe her anger towards the gods would make her too bitter towards him if she knew. They turn together in opposite directions, Maelgwyn continuing down the rows of tents as they grow larger and more lavish. Contrarily, his tent is functionally plain and small, and not as cool and inviting as the lieutenant’s had been. Not the tent a son of Samothes would be given, if that was how he was known.

Some nights—those same nights that he wishes for a cup of ale and a warm fire among friends—he yearns for a place in a crowded bunk, hearing the muffled noises of other soldiers as they turn over in their creaky beds or grumble in their sleep. Tonight, he tries to put the thought out of his mind as he gets ready for bed. It’s too hurtful to dwell on. He doesn’t bother lighting a candle—his bedtime routine is so utilitarian he barely needs to do anything but strip off his uniform and fall into bed. Inside this tent, he has nothing, and usually it’s easier than the overwhelming number of fires outside waiting to be put out.

He sees Hitchcock again a few weeks later, in a lineup of officers waiting to be promoted by his hand. As he shook hands, pinned medals to chests and offered congratulations, most soldiers flinched, gazes unable to stay on his face for more than a moment. Their grips were limp and their thank yous rushed, too awed by his holy presence to keep it together. Maelgwyn feels like he should’ve gotten used to this by now.

Captain Hitchcock only looked up at him and grinned.

---

It’s odd, to have stumbled out of a university basement with a gauntlet affixed to his hand and not more than a handful of his memories of life. Most days Maelgwyn frantically spins in a daze of confusion, grasping at what memories he has, trying to cobble them back together into a sense of self and winding up frustrated when the pieces don’t fit as he feels they should. Other days—rarer than they should be, creeping up on him and overwhelming him with blissful surprise that he didn’t see coming—he feels steadier. Not quite good, but okay. He forgets his struggle to try to remember to be himself and just is. Those days feel like a fresh start.

That’s the benefit of forgetting the rest of his life—it feels almost as if this is all he’s ever known. Being dragged along on whirlwind heists, each disastrous and joyful, a spinning dance that at turns nauseates and delights him until he learns how to settle his stomach and feel consistent glee. A nervous thrill running through him as he pockets something that isn’t his and knows he’s gotten away with it. Running down alleyways after the Six—after his friends, his friends—heart thumping a dizzyingly fast tempo, feet aching, whoops rising from his throat unbidden but welcome. They always cut it close, and that’s part of the beauty of it—being crammed into smaller and smaller spaces and always engineering some way out. Always managing to find their way back to a safe place deep under the city, where they can share drinks and congratulatory hugs and sit on the floor sorting through their loot far into the night. On nights like these, Maelgwyn feels at peace.

Tonight’s take was excellent. They shake out their bags and pockets into a huge pile between the haphazardly arranged couches in the Six’s basement, voices still high and boisterous from adrenaline. Aubrey falls upon the pile first, snatching away a book of alchemy that one of the Hitchcocks swiped—specifically for her, undoubtedly. She scampers off to curl up in one of her favorite chairs, nose already buried deep between pages. Sige is next, scooping up a brick-sized tome Maelgwyn doubts anyone else would be able to lift or would care to spend hours poring through. Castille takes a little longer picking through the pile, finding the books on magical theory and Marieldan history and natural sciences that Maelgwyn’s come to know are her favorites. The Hitchcocks take more of an interest in finding drinks than books, which is about what he expected.

As Maelgwyn settles next to Castille, one of the twins presses a glass into his hand with a grin. It’s white wine. Maelgwyn doesn’t quite know why, but the lightness relieves him. He takes a generous chug, excited to slip into the giddy, warm chaos of the night that his friends always manage to create.

He’s long since settled into an arrangement to share Castille’s books—they have overlapping tastes, and what with their shared amnesia, a similar drive to brush up on the history they’ve forgotten. They settle into a comfortable quiet in their own corner as the rest of the Six shout out their discoveries as they find them, buzzing now from the excitement of getting their hands on knowledge that’s been untouched for what might be years, jealously hidden away by Samothes’s heavy hand.

Maelgwyn knows, objectively, that he is Samothes and Samot’s son. Castille had told him, pity clear on her face as she realized he didn’t remember. He knows, but it’s funny—he doesn’t feel like the son of a god, no matter how hard he tries. When he tries to think back to his past, he feels a sort of nausea at remembering something he’ll never be again and could never claw his way back to. The vastness of his forgotten past seems so threatening, like it hides horrible secrets he’d be better off not learning. It’s hard to put out of mind. At the very least, it contrasts with the lightness and joy of his life now, even when the spaces between it stretch long. He is happy here, welcome here, at times even able to put his fathers’ war out of mind.

That’s why his heart sinks when he realizes the first book he’s picked up is on exactly that— the war. The things Samothes writes about Samot… Maelgwyn could never imagine writing things like this about someone he loves. They make him ache to read, secondhand pain that’s filtered down from them despite how little he remembers of being their child. In Samothes's furious scripture decrying the boy-prince's rebellion, he can see through the anger to the deep sorrow of betrayal beneath. In even the cruelest of his propaganda against his husband, there’s reluctance, a sense that he’s holding himself back from showing the worst of Samot’s nature out of some remnant of respect. Maelgwyn knows in the depths of his mind that Samothes could strike much more cutting blows if he wanted, that there’s a cold cruelty in Samot he can’t quite remember the specifics of but used to feel like searing ice.

And yet… Samothes loves him. Even with rebellion. Even in a war.

There’s incredible tenderness to be found in his fathers’ writings, if one goes looking. Love letters, hundreds of them, thousands of them from the millenia they’ve been alive. Collected and annotated, dripping with endearments and genuine adoration. Even after reading about the violence they inflict on each other, their love letters beg the question—how could such a deep love have been lost completely? How could a fraction not have persisted, even after everything?

Do you love him? Samot asks expectantly, a dozen years and a thousand miles away.

Maelgwyn closes the book with a snap, hands clammy. He sits with it for a moment, letting the warm ruckus of his friends’ voices wash back over him and remind him where he is and who he isn’t. He sits until his hands feel more like his own again and then pushes the book back into Castille’s pile, trying to find something more innocuous in its place. He emerges with a guide to edible plants in southern Hieron. He traces his un-gauntleted fingers over its cover, far more pleasant memories sparking in the depths of his mind.

Some nights his grandfather would come to their house in the woods, and when he would step inside he would begin shouting so suddenly it shocked Maelgwyn. It would sound less like an argument and more like when one of Maelgwyn's fathers would lecture him, one-sided and allowing for little rebuttal. Eventually his grandfather would step back out, fuming. He would stare up at the sky and take a long breath, and when he looked back down at Maelgwyn he would always be smiling kindly. Why don’t we take a walk? he would say. Maelgwyn would be so relieved to get away from the arguing for even a few minutes that he would’ve gone anywhere with him.

His grandfather would walk Maelgwyn and his friends out to the forests and plains and creeks around their mansion, leading them through the terrain in a way that implied familiarity with every inch. He'd spend hours teaching them what berries to eat, what leaves to pick for tea. To remind you that I'm always here to look out for you, he told Maelgwyn cheerfully. It had helped—when Maelgwyn felt lonely, as he often did, he would wander out into the thick yard behind their house and immerse himself in the forest, feeling his grandfather's warm, comforting presence.

He realizes now that his grandfather is the continent itself, of course, and he had meant for Maelgwyn to seek his presence in a literal sense. It’s hard to feel him now, here, where Maelgwyn’s father has such power. The streets are densely packed with stone and metal and concrete, but still—bits of Samol still manage to peek through. The roots of trees forcing their way into the gaps between cobblestones, flowers determinedly poking up in the tiniest pockets of dirt, moss and lichen lightly dusting the roofs of houses. Nature always finds its way through no matter how hard Marielda works to keep it out, like a nagging parent. That’s one thing from his past Maelgwyn doesn’t mind holding onto.

It hits him that he’s going to have to give this book away when he’s done, and he’s seized by a creeping sorrow. It wouldn’t be fair for him to keep it—it’s merchandise, and more than that, it’ll likely fall into the hands of someone who could use the knowledge in its pages. But at the same time, he knows he’s the only person in the continent who could appreciate it for more than the simple guide it is. To him, it’s a piece of something—someone—he loves, wood pulp paper and plants distilled into dyes. Its weight in his hands is precious to him.

He sits, frozen and conflicted. Castille, oblivious, erupts in a flurry of laughter and gets up to help Aubrey lift a tome almost as big as her. Maelgwyn can’t move after her, left in a private bubble of confusion and trepidation that even noise can’t burst. One of the Hitchcocks flops down beside him in Castille’s place, already a little too drunk. Maelgwyn doesn’t think much of it until he realizes Hitchcock is looking at him. He feels a pang of fear that he’s being judged until he realizes there’s a sharp sort of curiosity in Hitchcock’s eyes, even as he lazily lets his head loll back against the couch.

Maelgwyn’s attachment to Castille is straightforward, but he doesn’t understand why Hitchcock is familiar to him. Some of the memories that try to surface when he looks at him seem to be from an impossibly long time ago, before Hitchcock was even supposed to be born. He remembers wildly tearing through the roads of his childhood with only mischief on his mind, hands grubby, curls untamed, chasing a girl with a mud-spattered dress who screamed far more wildly than him. Maelgwyn would probe him for possible connections if he wasn’t too nervous to reveal such an intimate memory, and if he trusted Hitchcock not to spin it for his own benefit. Crafty little worm, he thinks, his fondness soothing his anxiety once again.

Hitchcock suddenly sits forward, nearly tipping over unsteadily but catching his balance. He gestures at the book in Maelgwyn’s hands. “Take it," he says earnestly. Like he could read the hunger in Maelgwyn’s eyes.

Maelgwyn is taken aback. He stammers, and knows that tips Hitchcock off to the fact that he guessed correctly. “What? It's… it’s merchandise. You need it."

Hitchcock glances back at the rest of the Six, engrossed in cheering Aubrey on as she determinedly drags her gargantuan book up to a table. He leans in conspiratorially. There it is again—that familiar glimmer in his eye, the one that brings back the wild, free times of Maelgwyn’s childhood. "No, we don't. Not that badly. Take it."

Maelgwyn is breathless at the idea. Of course he’s stolen things before—many, many times during his tenure with the Six—but they were never for himself. It’s been so long since Maelgwyn owned something of his own, something that hadn’t been handed down to him by his parents or their followers, bearing a heavy burden of expectation or responsibility. Maelgwyn imagines dog-earing the book’s pages and writing notes in the margins and pressing flowers between chapters, leaving tangible marks of his existence all his own, and nearly bursts into tears.

He slips it into his jacket discreetly, the shiver like the one he’s learned to enjoy after a theft running through him. Hitchcock grins with infectious, mischievous glee, and Maelgwyn can’t help but laugh with him. “C’mon,” Hitchcock says, pulling him up by his hands. “Let’s dance.”

Maelgwyn lets himself be pulled, stumbling, to the center of the room, trepidation overwhelmed by excitement. The Six cheer for them as they start some partner dance Maelgwyn has no name for, Hitchcock whirling him around in dizzying circles until they’re both breathless with laughter, stumbling against each other as the rest of their friends find their own pairs and fill up the dance floor around them.

If Maelgwyn closes his eyes and lets himself melt into the moment, he can forget he was ever a god’s son, ever chosen to fight a war that wasn’t his, ever a historical figure before he was a person. He can wash those thoughts away with this life he’s built, no matter how temporary. This is all he’s known, and all he ever needs.

#friends at the table #marielda #maelgwyn #samot #samothes

2 notes · View notes

onisiondrama · 4 years

Photo

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“I Figured Something Out” Sept 24, 2020 Speaks

- Says he likes to make videos pointing out his flaws because when he realizes he was doing something wrong, he likes to point it out and move on. You shouldn’t bottle things up. - Says when he started making these video he was angry and over time he winded down. - Begs his follower to look into the Regina / Adam thing. Says Regina pretended to be a transgender person named Adam. He says he was told this by a friend of someone he loves, by someone he loves, by a Hansen insider, and two other people who looked into it. They fabricated a person and a story. He says it’s gross. He says he doesn’t know exactly what was said because he doesn’t watch those videos. - Says he recently watched a beautiful, capable, smart women talk about cancel culture and drama. She’s a republican who doesn’t believe in the far right or left. Says most people go with the flow, but she’s an individual. He says he didn’t care there were things she said that he disagreed with because of the way she spoke. He says when he talks to people online, he has to remember you’re not that different. We all have feelings and people are less reasonable in your opinion if you don’t approach them reasonably. He says he is too harsh and mean in his videos, unlike the women. He understands you’re not supposed to sugarcoat the truth, but other people have feelings. - (People are after him because he hurt their feelings.) - Brings up Regina again. He says he doesn’t know what their problem is because he never talked to them. Says there’s sincere mental illness sprinkled around the internet and it’s proven if you put Regina and Adam side by side. He says he hasn’t watch the videos side by side, but he’s seen photos. He says he doesn’t know how this got past the filters and how people can be so negligent to the truth. He says that’s what happens when you let anyone on a show. People come on to troll or to project their issues. - He says people who watched him may have felt talked down to. He says he spoke like that because he felt like his audience turned on him before he had a chance to explain why it was all ridiculous. He felt it was unintelligent for people to assume it was the truth, but he was in a situation where he was threatened with divorce if he talked. He was stuck between being the bigger person and staying silent while he was building up frustration seeing what people were saying about him. - Says if the Regina and Adam thing is true, it’s the funniest disaster that ever occurred on social media. People were saying there’s all these victims and one of them turns out to be someone dressing up as a new person. It’s bad enough people can fake texts, but when you fake a whole person that’s another level of crazy. He says he almost feels blessed to be subjected to that level of comedy. He says it’s clinically insane for someone to do that with a straight face. He says he never even heard of Adam. - When his marriage was on the rocks because of cuddlegate, he told Billie he wanted to be alone. Billie tried to work it out with him. Says that’s evil step-mom, homewrecker stuff. [I’m pretty sure he’s talking about when he made the fake divorce video and she contacted him.] Says he had the opportunity to run away and abandon his family. He chose to stay because he doesn’t want to be that dad that choses his lustful side over his heart. He broke down crying at one point because he almost let down his family and he almost lost them. He didn’t talk to Billie for a few months after cuddlegate until Kai was like “uwu”. He says he told Kai it was a bad idea and it ended horribly. Says he’s done better than his dad and numerous other dads. - Says he doesn’t speak to people in his life as respectfully as he should. - Anyone in his shoes would be just as bitter and angry as he was. Some people wouldn’t even be alive. He lashed out because he didn’t get a fair chance. People won’t do a charity stream with him. - Once he told his full side in videos, people didn’t want to interview him anymore because he didn’t seem crazy anymore. - Says he was part of the mob against Chris Brown. He said he’s had people scream in his face and he didn’t do anything illegal to them. He called the cops on them. - (Patreon ban, he didn’t dox on purpose) - He says he wants to get rid of boob squeeze because it’s cringey to him. [thank god!]

“My Social Life- Before And After COVID” Sept 25, 2020, Speaks

- (Chris Hansen covid cure) - Says before COVID he stopped going out in public because people were taking picture of his children and posting them to the internet. An employee at Lowes and at Dairy Queen took photos of his children. He’s protective of them. A man [Hansen] showed up to his house when his kids were home. - He was thankful when COVID hit because people would stay away from him. He’s happy he has to wear a mask. He was wearing a different disguise in public before the masks. - (Kai threatened divorce if he spoke) - Says people’s emotions and mental illness cloud their memories. He conquered that when he was 17. A girl dumped him and he told her she was a monster. This was before people would seek clout so it was just between them. He says he supports her breaking up with him because they weren’t meant to be. - Seeing how crazy Seattle and society has gotten, he doesn’t want to be apart of it. - He was socially lynched without going to court. (Mike went to court) - COVID gave him on excuse to avoid everyone and family members. He says COVID is horrible and people have died, but for him it came at an interesting time. He compares it to when a kid bullied him really hard in elementary school and died in a sledding accident. Says some dude or chick in a truck hit the kid. He says another time a guy was bullying him hard and that guy died in a motorcycle accident. He gave his helmet to his girlfriend. He died a hero. He gave up his life for someone. He was handsome and had his life ahead of him. - Says according to his mother, his father got a women killed by not giving her a helmet. He kept it for himself. His father also allegedly slept with his cousin. His dad tried to sue him and failed. Three of his family member accused his father of being a predator. - A reporter interviewed his father and his father acted like a hero. - His mom is the one who left his dad. He says she didn’t have to fight for custody so there’s no motivation for her to lie. - (beat up his dad story) - Criminal experts will agree with him to follow the money in cases because money is the root of all evil. Like a news station that will make more money by making a monster instead of telling a true story. It is not profitable to tell both sides. - People like black and white stores, not stories where both people make mistakes. - He love isolation. He was covered in his father’s blood when he went to juvie. His white shirt was brown with dry blood. He was happy to be there because he was away from people and life was simpler. Everybody in there was flawed, which is better than being with his hypocrite god-loving father. Typical Seventh Day Adventist garbage. Greg says he was one as well. When he was 13 he prayed and told god he wanted nothing to do with him. Many amazing things happened to him after that. - Says you have a lot of drifters who came and destroyed someone consistent in you life, then they left. He was that consistent person. He was making hundreds of videos and entertaining thousands of people per video. Now he’s down to 900 to 3,000 views per video. They came, they destroyed, they left. They destroyed someone you connected with, had a real bond with. A lot of you cheered them on as they did this and then they left. Now you’re left with the same person, but he’s more broken. He believed in good people before, but now that he was dragged down into dirt, he has dirt in his eyes. He can’t see the sun or trees. He can just see dark and sadness. He still feels your spit on his face from when you millions of people beat him senseless socially. - He says he saw a legitimate news source says there was an FBI investigation about him. Says the FBI never contacted him. - Leafy recently suggested he should become an actor. He compares it to Kevin Spacey. Says it would be sad to lose a netflix show or a movie deal because of people saying things about you. He says imagine people who were going to be on that show with you stop talking to you because they don’t want to be dragged down with you. He’s glad he wasn’t that big when he fell because it would have hurt more. Now he gets to be a no one who knows who he really is when most people live in an alternate reality. - When he lost BillyTheFridge as a friend, he didn’t lose anything because Billy was a fake friend. Billy wanted to be a white knight. Joe and Anastasia were great friends and wanted to still talk to him. Billy later on realized James wasn’t as evil as he thought and invited him to lunch with them. Says he (James) backed out and decided to stop talking to all of them. He says it’s sad he lost Joe and Anastasia as friends, but he didn’t want to drag them into the drama and make their lives more miserable. Having friends was a burden and he didn’t want them to hurt. - (Regina / Adam) Dobs is barking. - He feels like this whole thing is a grand opportunity to look at things the way they are. He doesn’t trust anyone anymore and he doesn’t believe in friendships anymore. - He swears on his life he’s more honest than Sarah, Billie, and Shiloh.

11 notes · View notes