Genre: A "what if" series full of angst and bittersweet feelings, it's about the slow coping of tragedies.
General warnings: SFW but meant for mature audiences, heavy mentions of death, brief mentions of self-harming behaviors( s!icide, self-harm, substance abuse), grief, generational trauma, missing persons.
"=⌕ Summary:
Set 25 odd years in the future from cannon, this follows the reader (who has a name for plot reasons but your name is a nickname) and other parties threw their experiences after the battles with LoV are long over and their friends are gone.
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MASTERLIST:
╰┈➤ [Prologue] The Tokyo Museum of Fallen Heros; a memorial exhibit.
Your shock is evident in your wide-eyed stare, her lips licked in a tight frown as she scans your appearance—the mess you both returned in is a horrendous sight to the woman and the last thing she had ever expected from you. She doesn’t care for the reason you’re messy, or that you’re finally standing beside Sakusa by choice. She simply sees the dirt at the hem of your dress and creases in your clothes; the way the river water had forced your neatly shaped hairstyle into a bird's nest. And she cares that Sakusa, the future king of the kingdom that she has devoted herself to, is in the same state beside you.
She opens her mouth and you know there’s an onslaught of disappointment is boiling at the back of her throat, threatening to spill and spoil the happiness filling the palace more by the second, but she stops herself: it’s not acceptable for her to have an outburst in front of so many people that she perceived to be lower than her.
There’s an uncomfortable silence amongst everyone as they wait for the woman to say something; not even Sakusa dares to say a word and his confidence from earlier disappears under the woman’s glare that’s filled with distaste.
“I expected you home,” It’s been so long, months, since you’ve heard her voice; you're not ready to have her chastise you again. Not after the first truly happy day you’d had in those months. “And instead you’re–” If you hadn’t known her as well as you did you might have been clueless do what her facial expression meant as she stopped herself from saying anything more.
It wasn’t for your benefit; she was just too disgusted to say the words out loud–and instead, you’re acting like a commoner. Or maybe it was that she wanted to keep appearances in front of the staff and the rough mercenaries looking on with confusion, and obvious detest in Atsumu’s case.
It wasn’t for your benefit; she was just too disgusted to say the words out loud–and instead, you’re acting like a commoner. Or maybe it was that she wanted to keep appearances in front of the staff and the rough mercenaries looking on with confusion, and obvious detest in Atsumu’s case.
“Mother.” You speak up, voice breaking under your nerves. She’s staring at you with a gaze that you’re no longer used to seeing; in fact, it worsens your nerves and Sakusa’s attempt to calm you with a gentle touch to your hand isn’t as useful as he had hoped it would be. You swat his hand away subtly, creating a distance between the two of you as you make your way toward your mother.
“Hitoka,” you call to the blonde, who’s seemingly terrified of your mother, “Would you care to show my mother to the drawing room?” She nods slowly, stepping out from her hiding place behind Kiyoko. “I’ll join you shortly, Mother.”
With a frown on her face, she follows the young girl into the palace and you’re left to release a shaky breath; there’s no relief in it and there may not be until the woman leaves again. For now, all you have is the desperate look you give to Kiyoko who rushes to your side, takes your hand and leads you to your room, with Atsumu following behind you with a similar level of concern etched on to his face.
Sakusa watches on, wishing he could be beside you to ease your discomfort. After, finally, feeling like the distance between you had decreased, he wants to share comforting words and tell you nothing could go wrong when he is at your side. Instead, he has to accept the fact you find comfort in your ladies and the man he assigned to you; he has to push away the feeling in his stomach as the door shuts behind Atsumu.
Komori stands beside him, staring at the door the same as everyone left outside is doing, and the next step is unknown. Does Sakusa clean himself up and join his wife? Does he leave you to deal with your mother alone? He doesn’t want to but he’s unaware of what privileges he may have gained with the trust that was beginning to build again.
All the progress that had been made in just a few hours of being together feels incomparable to the way you trust those around you; he wants to be one of your people. He doesn’t want to leave your safety to Atsumu; the very idea of having him being a man you trust when he’s trying his best burdens his heart.
He ignores the ache, he knows it’s nothing compared to what he had done to you, and turns to Komori. “Find me when her mother leaves.” he orders, adjusting the sleeves of his dirtied shirt, “And ensure their meeting does not turn sour, my wife’s comfort is your priority.” Komori nods, happy to push aside the list of responsibilities that had grown after the cancellation of Sakusa’s meetings: he was equally as worried for you.
Sakusa makes his way inside, Komori close behind making his way to the drawing room to relieve the stress that the young girl was certainly feeling under the watchful eye of your mother. He arrives before you, greeting your mother and requesting Yachi prepare tea for the lady, giving her a welcome escape.
Shortly after, Kiyoko opens the door for you and, in much cleaner and professional attire, you greet your mother with a curtsey. Though, the scowl on her face in unchanging now she’s not in the presence of the prince. Atsumu stands beside the door and, even with your silent order for him to leave, he refuses to move from his position. There’s no danger in the room, but he believes you would be more at ease with as many of your people in the room as possible.
It works, with the four of them there you’re more confident in front of your mother. The same could not be said for Yachi as she pours tea with trembling hands.
There’s silence in the room as you wait for you mother to talk, her expression is full of disappointment as she glances over you: no matter how you altered you appearance she was never going to overlook the fact you had presented yourself in a manner she had never encouraged.
“Mother-” Your attempt to apologise is overlooked the second you open your mouth, she’s quick to interrupt you and force you back into silence. You would never dare speak over your mother.
“You leave your position unattended,” she begins, “No one was aware of your whereabouts and you lack the decency to appear again looking like a disgrace. You show your servants, your subordinates,” the way she spits the word leaves a fould taste in the back of you throat, “such an image.”
The foul taste turns sour and you feel your face warm as the anger burns within you; it’s not the first time she had made you feel this way but it is the first since you’d gained independence from her. Your the princess; the future queen. She may be your mother but she has no right to act this way to you anymore.
“Mother.” You begin again, all thoughts of apologising have left your mind and the sudden confidence within you is shocking to everyone in the room. “You talk as though I lack deceny and yet you offend the very people–my people–stood in this room.” You frown in her direction but your expression is nothing compared to hers.
“You-” she takes a breath to calm her emotions; she’s biting her tongue to keep herself from worsening the mood in the room. “You must think about your reputation. This way you are acting, it’s improper.” You sigh at the sound of her words, improper. Her favourite thing to say to you when you disappointed her, growing up every little thing you did was improper and yet, she still had exceedingly high expectations for you.
And the insult still hurt the same way it did when you were a child.
“It’s improper for a lady.” Your mother continued, not caring for the way your face fell at her berating. “For a princess. You are not only tainting our family name but the royal family as well. You mustn’t make anything more difficult for myself and your father.”
You try to get a word in between her ridicules but she’s relentless. There’s no chance for you to speak your mind; you’re bullied into silence by the woman. Komori watches on, unsure of how he can stop this with Sakusa’s voice nagging in the back of his mind insisting he finds a way now. Atsumu wants to step forward; force the woman away from you so you have a chance to breathe and your ladies watch with frowns on their faces: there’s nothing any of them can do to go regardless of how much they may want to.
“I raised you better than this. I raised you for this role and you embarrass me.” Finally falling silent, she waits for you to speak up again; apologise. But there’s nothing you can say while she stares, her eyes boring into you and making you feel small. There’s nothing you can say in retaliation.
She stands when she realises you’ll choose silence over confrontation, as usual, and announces quietly that she’ll take her leave. “Next time I visit, I expect you to be taking your position seriously, it is not only you a bad reputation will impact.” As she leaves the room, Kiyoko follows behind to escort her out; she’d much rather be there as a shoulder for you to cry on but she knows, if she doesn’t, Yachi will be the one to perform the role. Hitoka had been beside your mother for long enough, any longer and the poor girl may have had a heart attack.
Komori whispers to Atsumu, leaving the room to collect Sakusa, and you’re left with Yachi and Atsumu, neither of which is certain of what to do as you hold your head in your hands trying to keep your emotions at bay.
There’s little that would comfort you now, maybe Kiyoko would be able to encourage a few words from you but those less familiar with your mother were clueless about how to support you. Yachi wants to reach out; offer some comforting words but she’s left in stunned silence, still scared of the atmosphere your mother had created.
You hear the door open, followed by whispers, and you think Kiyoko is back in the room. You want to feel relief; you want her to ground you and bring you back to the reality that you live in. The one where your mother is no longer dictating your lifestyle and where your friendship with Sakusa is finally recovering. The reality where your closest friends aren’t the superficial children of anyone that craves power; where they’re the people around you that don’t care for the woman you’re supposed to be because they care for the woman you are.
“Miya,” the voice makes you lift your head quickly, Sakusa is the last person you had expected to see and, with Atsumu standing his ground beside the door, it’s clear the whispering was the demand for the room to be cleared. “out.”
You watch as Atsumu reluctantly leaves the room and you’re alone with Sakusa. He makes his way to where you’re sitting, taking the position beside you and another silence falls on the room though, this time, the atmosphere is calm, patient.
You lean your head on his shoulder and he stiffens for a second: it’s the last thing he expected after the refusal to let him take your hand. It’s welcomed nonetheless and he, carefully, wraps an arm around your shoulders, rubbing comforting circles on the skin of your arm. He still says nothing, waiting for you to share with him.
It’s all he can do whilst he’s clueless of the scene that unfolded in his absence. All he was sure of, was that his mother-in-law had destroyed the little happiness you’d experienced that day and he wanted to be the reason it came back.
“My mother,” you begin after what had felt like hours of silent solace from your husband, words quiet and soft, “I knew she was here to tell me–” You can’t find the words that explain the thoughts occupying your mind. “I knew what she was here for yet I still had hopes she was here to simply see me.” You sniffle quietly, trying to stop yourself from showing a side of you to Sakusa that was unlike the confident lady your mother expected you to be. “I wish she could see me for more than step into higher society.” You whisper, the comforting arm around your shoulder bringing more ease to you than either of you had expected.
“She does; she cares for you in her way. It’s certainly not a way you or I perceive to be love.” He tries to reason, “We were raised by people that think as she does, but we learnt that that wasn’t the way we were supposed to live.” Looking at you, he doesn’t miss the way you eyes begin to water again. “It is your choice. You are the only person that can decide how to live your life.”
I guess that I have been on here so little that I owe an official-
HIATUS ANNOUNCEMENT
While I don't know for how much longer this is going to last, tumblrs just been sucky to me, and tbh I'm thinking about creating a new account because this one seems to be blacklisted or something and I don't want something that is supposed to be fun turn into work. I've mentioned this when this bought first began but I felt as though y'all earned an official statement.
I am still creating stuff though!! Please check out my carrd to find my other platforms, most of which I am active on still!! Currently, I am working on a multichapter piece which will be posted in ao3.
you know when you make something you are so proud of and you are so giddy that you made it but even your friends are dont even pay any attention to it so you kinda just feel so,,, bad about yourself. Like "I thought this was so cool I was so excited and proud of myself for making this, but no body barely pays any mind to it so was I wrong?? was it bad?? I never thought I would be able to do this, nobody likes it does that mean anything I make is just a failure??? Am I a failure??"
Hi Aero, just dropping by to say I was thinking about you and I hope that you’re doing well. I’m sending you lots of love and good vibes and I hope you get to smile a lot <33
‘you’re kidding me…’ you thought as your stomach dropped as you held your finger down on your boyfriends instagram story. it was august first; national girlfriends day, and much to your excitement your boyfriend had a coloured circle around his profile picture which had meant he posted.
what you didn’t expect to see him post however was a compilation of photos of his self proclaimed ‘girl best friend’ littering the screen with max demarco’s ‘heart to heart’ attached to the story playing over the background. ‘happy national gf day to my favourite girl’ you read as your eyes grew heavy.
tapping off the story and tossing your phone aside, you stared up at the ceiling, tears twinkling under the soft room light and your heart feeling heavier than ever. you didn’t even have it in you to contact your boyfriend to question his social media antics, not right now anyway, not whilst the wound was still so fresh. you’d get back to that later on.
the natural light from outside slowly grew darker as the hours droned on by as your position never changed. fresh tears washed over dried ones until your head was pounding from the non stop crying yet you refused to do anything to ease the pain. your eyes slowly drooped down before closing entirely, exhaustion hitting you hard and stopping you from moving for the next ten minutes before your phone vibrated from the other side of the bed.
you left it there not wanting to look at the device figuring it was your friends checking up on you after seeing your boyfriends story. yet there was no continue spam of messages coming through unlike whenever your friends would text you. one notification came through before you were left in the heavy silence of your room once more.
giving in, you grabbed the phone and tapped the surface to check it. your eyes squinted as they adjusted to the light before widening upon the words across your screen.
‘@k.tetsu has tagged you in a story’
kuroo tetsurō; your academic rival and bane of your existence.
your heart pounded as you tapped on the story unsure of what to expect before your breath hitched as music reached your ears and candid photos of you from across the classroom and shots you frowning slightly you knew the boy had taken to tease you covered your screen. ‘national gf day <3’ was typed across the photos as well as giveon’s ‘like i want you’ played in the background of the post.
your jaw stayed ajar as you took in the post and fact someone that wasn’t your boyfriend had posted and appreciated you. sliding up the story you decided it was only right to thank the boy for the kind gesture despite your rivalry and half playful attitude you’d offer to each other each class.
‘thank you :,)’ you sent in reply as you rewatched the story still in awe.
not even two minutes passed by before your phone vibrated again as the boy replied.
‘no need to thank me. it’s only natural i post my girl on national gf day ;)’
you laughed airily as your heart fluttered against your chest. before you could type a reply, kuroo responded once more.
‘but please hurry and break up with him and let me be your bf to make this post legit, i’m not tryna come across as a home wrecker over here’
there was nothing to homewreck. your soon to be ex boyfriend had made it clear where his priorities laid and they weren’t with you.
august first would be the day your priories would begin to lay with someone who clearly put you first. and that someone would be kuroo tetsurō, your academic rival, bane of existence and future long term boyfriend.
— leaking my irl name xoxo,, just wanted to put this out here bc i really don't mind if people would like to call me by my irl name. feel free to call me either of those names, tho i'll mainly refer to myself as milo on tumblr !!
— reblogs would be really appreciated so this doesn't get lost in my queued posts <3
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