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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

No Boyfriend’s

Masterlist

Henry comes home to find out his three year old princess has a boyfriend, whats a dad to do?

Warnings: swearing, fluff

A/n: so I had so much fun wrighting this fluff piece! Thank you to @jessevans for requesting it.

No Boyfriend's

You walked up to the preschool to pick up your daughter from her afternoon session. You had to admit when Henry had first sugested moving out of the city You had been a little skeptical. He had been adamant that he wanted your child to have a childhood much like his. Out of the hustle and bustle moving out into 'the sticks' as many londoners would call it. You'd settled in a quaint picturesque little village near Canterbury in Kent the location was perfect for henry's work with the port of dover thirty minutes away and the center of london with all the airports around an hours drive in the opposite direction it was ideal. And best of all it was out of the way and had all the amenities within the village itself a post office, shop,pub, Doctors surgery and pharmacy the local primary school and pre school was literally a five minute walk from your house and the closest secondary schools were a ten minute bus ride into canterbury itself and when the time came you had six to choose from.

The reason for the move? Your now three year old Daughter the apple of her daddies eye. You remebered the day you'd told your boyfriend you were pregnant, you'd been terrified as much as he said he wanted a family you couldnt help that twinge of doubt. But he was exstatic within moments he had darted out of the room when he returned he was clumsily trying to dial his mothers number with shaking hands tears streaming down his face as he kept asking if you were sure even when his mother picked up, you could here her laughs of joy as he told her. He paced the room leaving you to sit on the bed giggling as he refused to sit down whilst on the phone with his family every time he walked past you he move his hand pressing on Your flat tummy asif trying to feel the child already that or he was trying to imagine you with a bump and that grin? You'd never seen him smile like that before it truly melted your heart seeing him so happy. He was always and attentive boyfriend but once you was pregnant he was..Incredible always by your side when he was at home tending to your every need and he somehow managed not to be over bearing.

It was when you went to the first scan that he had proposed some might say it wasn't the most romantic but for you it was perfect! Leaving with the first photos of your little jellybean and a fiance. Fuck yes! You thought that you couldnt get any happier but then came the gender scan. You knew he didnt mind what they were but you also knew deep deep down you both wanted a little girl to coddle over and buhe wanted a daddies girl someone who he could be their knight in shining armour. He could bearly keep still beside you holding your hand tight watching the screen trying to get a look at your little 'nugget' as he had called them he couldn't keep quiet either with every swipe of the ultrasound wand he was changing his mind.

"Girl? Is that? I can see? nope Boy definatly boy"

"Henry babe...dont get to excited that's the umbilical cord...I think?" They were being a little bugger crossing their legs making the sonographer work hard to move them around as you had to move again and again trying to get the little one to move. Finally they spoke.

"And you two are about to have... Little....Princess! You have a baby girl on the way congratulations" you both froze looking at the screen seeing your baby...your daughter. Immediately you both burst into tears.

"A-a girl your sure?" Henry asked in a quiet shaky voice the woman smiled nodding handing you both tissues then moved slower over the child showing you exactly what she saw then printed off some of the photos for you. Once home Henry began refering to her as 'little lady' on account of her 'protecting her modesty' by crossing her legs.

It wasnt long after youd began talking about moving seroiusly, the house was big enough sure but now you knew the baby was a girl it all seemed much more real. Sure you'd both spoke about buying a house together on and off as youd moved in to his place earlier in the relationship but this time it was more feasible the idea of raising your precious little girl in the middle of london didn't bode well for Henry he was also concerned about haveing photos of her taken he was an actor hell your relationship was posted all over social media by your third date! He didn't want that attention on his daughter so you both started seriously looking. It only took another nine weeks to find a place you both fell in love with the Georgian detached house it looked like a mini manor with its decorative columns and tall windows had a huge garden to for kal it was perfect.

At six months you had a small private wedding and it was then that he anounced your marriage and baby Cavill, potsing your favourite wedding photo of you in you and Henry facing each other laughing witb your foreheads together, you were wrapped around each other as close as ou could get considering the bumb that had seemingly grown overnight his hand resting on the cute bump you were laughing because she had just kicked him when he had told you he loved you. Almost like 'dont forget about me!', Kal had photo bombed to his head poking out between your an Henry's legs smiling , a part of your flowy dress caught up on the bears ear head tilted the only one looking at the camera and in the same post he added an ultrasound of your baby girl. You got congratulations from many of yours freinds and family. And Henry's freinds and costars each wondering the same thing 'how the fuck did Henry keep it quiet?'. You wondered that as well, the hole pregnancy was just memory after memory. Henry made sure you did everything you could to document your daughters creation, you did the photo of your bump once a week the last one being you in the hospital in the middle of slow labour holding the gown tight around you a mere half hour before she was born. He had made sure you did the belly casting which had been tidied up and trimmed painted pink and was in the cupboard, then the 4d scans expensive tho they were nothing and you mean nothing compared to seeing her little face for the first time, it was then you realised she looked nothing like you! She was all her father although a slightly more feminine and less sharp and it was also there you were told she had lots od hair...Curls you felt like you'd hit the jackpot. At the birth he had been incredibly supportive until he wasn't, well you disagreed he wanted to film it and not just your face he wanted to film it you said no but regretted it after as it would have been solid proof of what happened. You see one moment he was there then mid contraction....you heard quiet 'nope' a huge thump is what alerted you to his fall.... there was an alarm pressed and nurses came running in each giggleing, it was rare now days to have a fainter.

"Are you FUCKING KIDING ME?! HENRY?! OI! HERNY? CAVILL GET YOUR ASS UP!" You had to stop shouting and started breathing heavy as another contraction pulled at you once over you began barking orders to the nurses.

"KICK HIM...KICK HIM IN THE NUTS! DONT WORRY ABOUT STERILISING SUPERMAN HERE! NEVER AGAIN! HE WONT THEM TRUST ME... HENRY GET UP! ARE YOU LISTENING? STOP BEING A LITTLE BITCH! I AM NOT DOING THIS AGAIN COS HE FUCKING MISSED IT! LOOKING WHEN I TOLD HIM NOT TO!" The nurses didn't know what to do it took three of them to place im in the chair each trying desperately not to laugh as you had a melt down screaming at him to 'wake the fuck up' You swore you even heard laugher from outside signaling that his family had heard. Yes your wonderfully supportive husband had fainted through stress? Excitment? Anxiety? Low blood sugar? Each time you asked him it had been different answer but and to quote him 'it was definitely not because I looked' which neither you or his brothers will ever believe or let him forget. Luckily he came to as you finally birthed his daughter. A stunning screaming little dark haired bundle. He sobbed when he held her for the first time leaning over her cradeling her so gently leaning over her kissing her as many time he possibly could he was the first one to hold her, hug her kiss her and change her. The photo of his first cuddle hung proudly in the hallway ,you will never forget that moment, the moment when Henry's whole world changed you could see then just how much he had wanted this. Your daughter was going to be the luckiest little girl in the world.

Paige had grown into a daddies girl, through and through which made today much better. Henry was coming home from filming man from u.n.c.l.e he had been away for months and you had kept his arrival home a secret. Henry was going to make it home in about twenty five minutes. You stopped just before the colourfull gates unable to go in with Kal, you could see the kids lining up in twos underneath the oak tree in the small garden. You smile moving to stroke Kals ears hushing him as he barked loudly vibrating with exciment his tail thumping on the floor as he sat like the good boy he was. At his bark you could hear the kids all squeal with excitment, they loved it when you brought the 'wolf' to the preschool. It was funny hearing Paige whine to them that 'his name is Kal and he's a bear'. He was quite the spoilt pup when he helped you pick up his sister getting hugs and kisses of all the Paige's class mates. Finally the small class was walked out of the garden one of the teachers holding the gate lettjng them leave to their parents. Paige waited in line pointing to you then was let out you ducked down hugging her kissing between her her curly little pigtails.

"Hey baby! Have a good day?" She nodded passing you her small bag and a small potted plant? You looked at her confused but said nothing. She turned and giggled hugging kal smoshing her face in his chest making him stand up she pulled back and squealed as he latherd her with kisses three hours away from her was apparently to long!

"Oh no Kal! Stop it silly bear!" You laughed watching her push weakly at kal who began to settle down now that his 'pup' was with him. You noticed the other parents hovering there kids all pulljng itching to come get Kal cuddles. You smiled to them nodding suddenly they came over all giving him pets and love which he lapped up. You also used it as a sort of lesson the do's and donts of petting dogs, which did some of the other parents a favour. Kal wagged his tail and droped to the floor he couldnt roll over fast enough directing the tiny hands to scratch his belly mouth open tongue lolling about as he panted one happy little bear. After you were sure all the kids got there cuddles you moved calling kal he huffed at you ignoring you instead wanting more love. You smirked down at him sighing as the children giggled. Finally after much coaxing from the other parents you and Paige managed to heave kal away with promises of chicken and snuggles at home. Soon you was on your way home kal padding beside you happy as can be.

Paige took he spot beside you holding his lead with you she was talking about her 'boyfriend' a little boy who she had taken a shine to. It was really sweet he had just moved to the area a little asian boy who paige had bonded with quickly. Really they were just best freinds but he was the first boy she had made freinds with hence she had opted to call him her boyfriend.

"So then Micah played let me play and-and he let me be a knight!" You smiled at her as she beamed excited.

"Really? A knight?" She stopped at the road with you looking both ways then crossed quickly.

"Yeah! Like in daddy's games!! And he gave me some of the bany tomatoes in his lunch...did you he grew them in his own garden!!" You gasped sown at her.

"Really? Oh my, sound like a little dream boat!" she scrunched up her nose lookjng up at you placing a tiny hand to he forehed sheildjngnher eyea from the afternoon sun

"Wha?" You chuckled shaking your head at her.

"Never mind jummy is just being silly" nodded to you her lightl blue eyes sparkling at you then Continued talking about her day mostly about Micah and the games they played.

When you reached home you watched as kal began barking and whining which could only mean one thing. Henry was home already, you unlocked the gate and released the dog with a quiet 'go get daddy' he tore off whining running to the door scratching and pouncing barking the whole time.

"Mummy whats wrong with kal?" You looked down at her knowingly"I'm not sure why don't you go see to him?" She nodded her head biting her lip then licking it, she looked so much like her father doing that. Then she was off running to the house just as Henry opened the door. She froze then screamed for him quickly falling to pieces with grabby hands wantjng her daddy. You watched all choked up as always she was bawling her eyes out by the time he had jumped the steps to the house scooping her up in his huge arms. He clutched her to his chest shushing and rocking her as she cried into him fisting her small hands in his shirt just calling him over and over. He moved his head kissing her trying to calm her, he hated and loved this. He hated her getting so upset when her returned but secretly loved that she missed him. The first few times he left he was worried she wouldnt remember him but juste as youd promised him she had.

The first time he came home you’d taken her to the airport to meet him...He had ended hup having to sit in the back with her as she refused to let him go getting hysterical each time he tried to pry her off of him. She had gotten better as she got older understanding that daddy had to work and now she was older she could speak to him on the phone and video chat. Each time after the initial crying and snuggles she would stay stuck to his side weather she was sitting on the sofa between his legs when he was playing games or in the makeshift gym with him useing his reps to practice her counting...even if in five mineuts he managed two hundred by her count they were always together. Hell sometimes he even read a new script as a bed time story, which not even you were privvy to!

You laughed walking up to him winding your arms around them both cuddling your daughter between you he leaned in kissing ou on the lips.

"God its good to be home" you smiled smoothing one of paiges high pigtails she whined calming down kicking her little legs wrapping an arm around his neck and moved suckling her thumb a little. He moved you all into the house patting her bottom lightly somthing he had done since she was born it always soothed her. You moved to the kitchen opening the back door letting air in it was to hot, you placed the small plant on the windosill by the sinck giving it a tiny bit of water as you noticed the siol had dried out. Henry stayed close behind you wanting to be around you, you moved to the slow cooker flicking it on to warm up the already cooked casserole. He came up behinde you movijng to have Paige on one hip still rocking her slightly even tho she had calmed down.

"Ohh look baby chicken casserole...Did you help mummy with that today before school? " She giggled peering over the pot.

"Yes daddy! I putted in the veggies! And tatoes! Daddy!" He smiled at her gasping.

"You did the veggies and the potatoes?! Such a clever girl making daddies favourite dinner" she giggled at the praise nodding.

"And-and I tasted it to!" he gasped at her as she got all excited

"And what do you think?" She grinned and 'whispered'

"Needed salt" you spun round and gasped at her offended.

"You little!" You chased her and Henry around the kitchen island wriggling your fingers as if to tickle her.

"AHH HAHAHa NOOO! DADDY RUN RUN!" you giggled as he scarperd out of the kitchen hovering by the door and moved all you saw was the tops of their heads peering into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes as they made a 'plan of attack' you turned back to the pit placeing the lid back on.

Suddeny Henry had you, arms pinning yours to the sides as Paige 'tickled' you making you laugh.

"Oh my god! Stop I give I give!" Finally Paige relented koala climbing Henry who quickly scooped her up to his hip.You moved in kissing her cheek then henry as he wrapped his free arm around you nuzzling in to your neck giving a quick nip before licking at your skin.You giggled trying to escape yet all he did was grab you around your waist and hoist you up.

"HAHA! I have you both now!" You laughed and Paige squealed as he spun around holding you both before making his way to the living room you wriggled free pretendingnto run from him making paige call out to you for help as he threw her up in the air holding her with 'slam dunking' paige to the sofa making her laugh and scream as he followed lifting her littl tshirt blowing rasberries on her tummy makeing her squeal and laugh louder. You smiled at the two, this is what you missed when he was away, the laughter of a full house. You sat down in Henry's armchair as he and Paige 'wrestled' soon attracting kals attention who like the loyal steed he was came to paiges aid pouncing henry making him groan and roll off her givingnher and kal the chance to escape to the garden, you both let them the garden was safe and having kal around was like a live in nanny he wont let anything happen to her.

Henry rolled over on the sofa lounging back panting crooking a finger at you. You crept over moving to sit in his lap, he tugged you down to him pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He moved sitting up more cupping your ass smirking.

"Soo? Did you think about what I mentioned?" You grinned and pretended to think for a second making him groan leaning in leaving kisses on your neck and jaw.

"I did" you finally replied, you felt him hold his breath as his nose ghosted your ear.

"I stopped them that night~ all back to normal now" he pulled back staring at you

"Really? You mean it?" You nodded them brought you forward for a deep kiss. He had mentioned trying for another child when he came back, youd always intended to give Paige a sibling but not when she aas still a baby baby. Now that Paige was older and going to be in school next year you had felt ready to try again and had be over the moon whne henry had suggested it in a video chat instantly stopping your contraception so eveything would be back to normal and you could start trying asap asfterall you knly had him home for a few months then he was off to play superman again. He smiled lunging forward pinning you below him devouring your mouth you moaned as things got heated.

You felt them. Eyes. Blue eyes to be exact. You both sighed and turned to Paige who was staring unblinking at the two of you from the door. You moved pushing him up.

"Mummy? Wheres my plant I wana show daddy what I grew!" He looked at you and sighed a little, you could tell he was a bit dissapointed but you waved him off as he stood pulling you up with him you moved in whispering.

"Tonight love" he grinned and jumped up a bounce in his step holding his hand out to paige who took it.

"Its on the windowsill in the kitchen" Henry nodded left the room letting you relax for a while already knowing you were picking up your kindle to read. Once in the kitchen he lifted Paige placing her on the counter and pulled over the small plant.

"So whats this then?" She smiled touchingnthe leaves softly

"Its a strawberry plant daddy...I did it from a tiny seed!" He smiled at her looking to the plant it wasnt half bad small but alive which is more then he could say for his when he tried.

"Oh you did this? At school?" She nodded at him and moved the leaves about.

"Yes and it will get bigger and grow pretty flowers...And the flowers will grow a strawberry! Miss bou said we cant pick em till they are a bright red like in the shops... and we can take pictures in to show em off!" He nodded to her

"So your gardening at school now? Is it fun?" She giggled putting the plant down

"Yeah we got lots in our vegetable patch...we got some lettuce and peppers and spinach and and tomatoes! But they not ready yet...Micahs is! Micah grows the at home... can we grow some veggies daddy?" He smiled at her

"We certainly can...Besides we will need to plant your strawberries in the garden...I will make your ownn little growing patch amd we can grow anything you want how does that sound?" She squealed and bounced on her bottom making him smile.

"Lets make a list and we can go get them tomorrow" she nodded in agreement. You walked in the kitchen as henry and Paige leaned over the counter making a list

"Whats going on here then?" Paige quickly riped the paper from under Henry's nose.

"List mummy! Of palnts for my veggie patch! Daddy wants to help!" You smiled peaking over the paper seeing two halves one side had strange 'paige writing' the other a list Henry had written. Compost, tools, string, pots then lots of different fruit and veg. You chuckled shaking your head.

"You missed watering can...maybe we could get a waterbutt? And one of thows plastice green houses to start the seedling off?" He smiled nodding addjng them to the list as you went and checked dinner. You nodded then turned to the other two."Right you tow dinners done wash up then go wait at the table...Had it in the slow cooker all day just needed to be heated up" he leaned over kissing you once again thanking you then helped Paige was her hands leaving to the dining room with Paige.

You did this everytime he came home early dinner meant an early bedtime for Paige and then You could give Henry a proper homecoming. You dished up the dinner home made chicken casserole you moved quickly with the three bowles placing them on the table then sat down ready to eat as Henry began talking about work. you smiled letting him gush about his work, you loved seeing him like this he blushed slightly.

"Any way enough about that, how have my two girls been?" You watched at Paige grinned across the table to him.

"I made a new friend daddy!" You swallowed your mouthfull choosing to keep quiet you knew where this was going you grinned into you bowl. He smiled at her leaning over to wipe her mouth quickly making her giggle at him as he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh really? And whats her name?"

"Haha nooo! Daddy its not a girl...I've got a boyfriend!" Henry choked onhis mouthfull paiges face dropped and she looked to you worriedly you smiled reassuringly at her. Henry hit his chest coughing finally getting himslef under control, he looked at you shocked and terrified you nodded at him chuckling.

"A-a boyfriend? Poppet dont you think your a bit err young for that?" She frowned at him shaking her head.

"No daddy! He is really nice! He lets me be a knight! And today we had lunch together and he fed-ed me his tomatoes."

"Gave paige he gave you his tomatoes" you corrected as Henry gaped at her unsure what to make of it.

"So he is just a friend?....he better be" he grumbled the last part under his breath.

"He is a friend...My boyfriend I love him daddy... he gives me hugs! And Kal likes him to! He's my hero" You giggled as Henry was panicked and at a loss.

"Really....love I thought daddy was your hero?" Creased up he actually looked a bit hurt from her words she gave him a sympathetic look.

"Yes daddy you are...But Micah is to! He is soo pretty and fun and he don't make me be the princess all the time...And he shares his colours"

"Okay so you love this boy Micah?" She nodded pushing her food around in her bowl.

"What do you love about him?"

"His hair! Its black and shiney! And and he is cute!"

"Aha but you do know he isnt your boy friend right? Your not aloud boyfriends yet....No boyfriends untill your older." He said she looked at him wide eyed then you her bottom lip quivering.

"What? But but I love him!" Henry crossed his arms at her she mimicked him scowling

"No absolutly not baby" .she whined and smaked the table in a huff

"NOOO! MY BOYFRIEND!" He raised a brow at her as she had a paddy.

"No boyfreinds untill your 21 and thats final ittle lady"

"No! Micah is mine! My boyfriend! A-and you cant stop us from playing! So there!" Henry rose a brow trying to ignor your quiet chuckles as Paige made huffed and stuck her nose in the air being a right little madame. You watched givjng Henry the stink eye as a grin crawled across his face. Here we go.

"Its illegal...he could get in trouble, daddy could get in trouble" Henry tilted his head at her as she gasped trying to read him, you could see her mind trying to work him out. Is he lying? Or not? but her father was an actor...And a damn good one he had a poker face like no other. You knew where this was going, you knew you should stop it but his was gold! You had a feeling that henry was not gojng to ckme out on top.as she opend her mouth.

"W-well we wont tell..Keep it a secret!" She said holding a finger to her lips Henry tutted shaking his head.

"Oh poppet...Do you know where daddy has been these past months?" You squinted at him trying to see exactly where this was going knowing you were going to have to pick up the pieces. She nodded then shook her head no. He smiled devilishly at her. Oh shit here he goes.

"Daddy has been to spy school" you gasped at him oh hell no he wouldnt...yes he fucking would you could see the twinkle in his deep blues.

"Spy school?" She spoke in a small voice then turned to you looking fro one to the other he nodded at he

"Y-your a spy?" He nodded and she gave him a sa look.

"Yes, and I made friends with lots of spies" she twitched slightly shaking her head.

"And they told me that the spy rules says that a spy's little girl isn't allowed a boyfriend until they are twenty one....If they did find out daddy could get in trouble...You dont want daddy to be in trouble do you?" She shook her head bottom lip trembling as she was torn. She looked like she would explode as she tried weighting up her 'options'.

Suddenly Henry dropped his smug look and looked more like a deer in the headlights as Paige began wailing moving her arms making grabby hands to you. You sighed and hoisted her into your arms rocking her trying so hard not to laugh.

"W-why is da-daddy mean?....I ju-just want to pl-play with my boyfreind!" You patted her back rocking her.

"No-now D-daddy will get i-in trouble! But I-I just w-wana plaayy!" She cried harder hicupping between her words.

"Oh sweety come here shh shh" you gave Henry a look as he leaned back in his chair crossing his arms at you shaking his head. Stubborn and protective of his little lady.

"Nope..Not having it" you hissed at him knowing you had to spell this one out for the big idiot.

"Daddy didn't mean it,he wont get in trouble at all baby girl"

"Yes I did"

"HENRY!" he shut up at your hiss

"Bu-but d-daddy said-"

"Hey look at me...Dont listen to daddy he is an idiot and just jealous of Micah" she sniffled an nodded

"Y-yeah cos he-he's got pretty Shiney hair... D-daddies just got stupid curls!" You giggled as Henry looked aghast at her not believing wht ha was hearing

"Exactly daddy is just being a grump! you can still play with Micah...He is your best friend isn't he?" She nodded sniffling

"and you love his like a friend right?" Henry now realised his mistake blinked at you as you rolled your eyes shaking your head at him like 'what the fuck? Really? Shes three' .oh. She pulled away wipinng her eyes looking to henry's matching blues.

"Really daddy? C-can I still play w-with micah?"

"Yes of course...I'm sorry baby...you and mummy was right I just got jealous...daddy is used to being your only hero." Smooth cavill real smooth. She bought it tho nodding he tilted his head down.

"Yo-you wont be in tr-trouble" he shook his head at her

"A-and Micah wo-wont be in t-trouble?" Again he shook his head and reached for her.

"No baby daddy was just being silly...Come here Can you forgive me poppet?" She thlught about it then nodded lunging for him cuddling him he mouthed a sorry to you but you just rolled your eyes at him. Idiot.

It was later that night when Henry returned to your bedroom after reading Paige to sleep,. You both flitted about one another getting ready for bed ou was brushing your teeth when he brought it up.

"So who is this micah then?" You rolled your eyes still hearing a little hostility there...To a fucking three year old. You spat out the toothpaste and looked to henry leaning on the door.

"A little boy...He moved to the village just after you left...Paige was instantly taken with him, he is asian so was avoided by the other kids...you know what she's like with hair and shes never seen straight pitch black hair before... she gushed about him for a few days then they became best freinds....And she call's him her boyfriend because he is the first male friend shes made! God henry really shes three! There none of that shit yet...not for a good few years!" You turned away from your sheepish husband.

"So? nothing i need to know? theres nothing going on? whats his parents like?" You blinked at him..

"Seriously? Like are you being serious now? Ok well fuck it his dad has taken over the doctors surgery and is actually your and my doctor now that dr marsh has retired! His mother is a stay at home wife, they have a cat called fuji; cos he is fat and a gold fish called mino because its a mino...he is a sweet polite boy ...his favourite colour is green he grows fruit and veg in his garden and you know what Henry he fucking loves batman! and whne he batman versus superman comes out he is gonna want batman to kick your ass! there you happy Jesus fucking christ almighty!" Henry smirked moving towards you slowly stalking towards you really.

"Fuck off" he just chuckled quickly wrappjng himself around you.

"God your so sexy when our mad come here~" you blinked at him

"Oh hell no You did not get me riled up to have rough sex.....Henry I!....you little shit!" He laughed knowing you’d caught onto him making you more irritated and dragged you to the bed kissing at your neck along the way.

"Come on love time for number two...A boy to keep and eye on Paige for me when I'm away!" You chuckled relenting as he laid you down on your bed.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x daughter #henry cavill x child

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lightskinrry · 3 years

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spill about the nymph fantasy pls!!! also take care & i hope things get better really soon for u and ur family <3

Omfjsjsj thank you for indulging me and being sweet ily❤️

This became incredibly long and poorly written im sorry lmaofhfn but I’ve been composing this story in my head for weeks so there’s so many details😭😭😭 well I put it under the read more <333 also pls picture either harry answering fanmail or harry in the golden mv but in a prince Philip from the little mermaid outfit for this lmaofejfn

Soooo hear me out Harry is a prince in a far away land and outside of his prince duties he loves to play music he loves art and he doesn’t like the high society life so everyday once he’s done at the castle he travels to the forest near by and there’s this enchanted place hidden behind the bushes deep in the forest and there’s a pond and a small waterfall and a big tree with a huge branch and it’s so beautiful and he comes here everyday to play music and write and sing and every day the nature around him in this little hidden haven responds; the wind blows to the rhythm of what he’s playing, the water dances around when he sings and he just feels so at home and safe in this place he leaves little offerings and gifts

he doesn’t know exactly what it is about this place but there’s something there that he loves and then one day he’s talking to himself about a song he’s writing trying to find lyrics and he feels water dripping down on his forehead and he catches a glimpse of someone perched up on the branch watching him but they disappear before he actually can make a form out of them and he tries to shake it off but everyday he discovers a little bit more of whoever is hiding there; he hears a giggle when he’s playing out of tune, humming when he plays the strings of his guitar, a foot print in the wet grass and everyday he talks to them without ever seeing them reassuring whoever lives there that he won’t harm them and that he wants to know them but they never show up

until one day the land is attacked and Harry is wounded during battle he runs to the refuge hoping no one would find him he tries to heal his wound but he passes out sure he’s going to die and when he awakes someone is leaned over him their lips so close to his he thinks an angel wants to kiss him but the moment his eyes open fully the person runs away from him he tries to stand up and ask them to stay but the pain of his wound hold him down he looks down on it and realize it’s almost completely healed he looks around him and he sees little pots and other items and food used to heal him he crawls to the water pond to drink and he looks at himself the peach fuzz on his face indicating that’s he’s been out for almost a week and someone took care of him all this time he’s so baffled he rambles thank yous endlessly he asks the person if he can at least see who saved his life and he promises over and over again he won’t hurt them but there’s still not a peep ....

he lays down and fall asleep bc he’s still very weak and when he wakes up again he keeps his eyes closed and he feels water dripping down on his forehead again he speaks before moving or he doesn’t even open his eyes, he’s softly greeting the person who helped him thanking them and reassuring them again,,, he can hear their breathing and the droplets of water still hit his forehead in the most gentle way so he knows they’re still here.

He decides to open his eyes very slowly and he finally sees the person perched up on the branch, their naked body laying on it and gazing down on him, water dripping down their hair and twigs and flowers inside their hair,, he can’t quite believe his eyes for a second but once they make eye contact he just stares silently, the nymph stares back; eyes big with wonder... they stay there like that silently for a while he doesn’t dare to speak by fear they’ll run away again but in the silence the nymph gets down of the tree.

Harry stays down on the grass his head looking at the sky not wanting to make a move,,, he can feel them walk around him, looking at him and he feels safe.... the nymph kneels next to him and touch his face with their fingertips, softly tug on the curl that’s falling on his forehead, they check on his wound and grimace at the look of it, they get water and plants to put on it and Harry flinches at the pain but doesn’t make a sound. When they’re done they make eye contact again but they don’t speak and the nymph leaves and as they walk away Harry tries to stop them and ask them for at least a name and they just turn around and smile at him before disappearing again....

Harry realizes his wound is finally healed and he knows he has to get back to the castle so he leaves promising to come back again the next morning he finally makes it back home and it’s a celebration that the prince has returned safely and the next morning he takes his guitar and some food to bring to the pond and he stays there offering the food to the nymph waiting for them to come out he stays there and wait all day but they don’t come out he’s starting to think that maybe he made the whole thing up in his head bc of the pain but just as he starts to leave he hears branches and twigs breaking behind him and the food he brought is not there anymore he takes a deep breath and looks up to the branch where he saw them for the first time and they’re there!! Laying on their tummy gazing at him and eating the food he brought.... before he can speak the nymph gets down of the tree and analyzes him, they walk around him in a circle looking to see if he’s maybe hurt, they check his wound and smile contently at the sight of it healed,,, Harry doesn’t move and doesn’t speak but the nymph touches his face before their name fall out of their lips....

They are finally talking and Harry couldn’t be happier he knew it was real!! He speaks ever so softly scared that if he speaks louder he might scare them away again,, he doesn’t dare to touch them not even their hands let alone their arms and he doesn’t look at their eyes too long he’s so intimidated by their beauty and grace he can barely make sense but he profusely thank them for saving his life and he rambles about knowing there was someone living here. The nymph interrupts him to ask him to sing bc they love to hear him and he’s so taken aback he can only say yes so they sit next to him and listen while he plays the guitar and sings songs about long forgotten love stories and heartbreak

He stays there for hours just playing and singing, the nymph doesn’t say a word they just listen... until it’s dark and Harry excuses himself because he has to go home,,, the nymph finally asks him if he would teach them how to play the guitar and he promises he’ll back tomorrow to teach them

And he comes back... every day for weeks, teaching them the guitar, writing songs, listening to them sing, bringing them food and flowers and other trinkets he finds that he thinks they would enjoy and everyday the nymph speaks more and more and they tell him how much they love the sun and their favorite flower and color

One day Harry comes back and the nymph greets him gleefully jumping on their feet so happy to see him and he stays there all day they play and sing and write and eat as they do and by the end of the day as the sun sets and the pond is washed over in golden tones he pulls out a gold necklace with a sun pendant,, he explains to the nymph that it’s a gift for them that he saw the sun pendant and it reminded him of them,, he asks if he can put it on them and the nymph agrees so filled with tenderness from his gesture,,, they tell him they love it and that they’ll keep it forever and once he’s done placing it on their neck as they turn around to face him their eyes meet and it’s like time is frozen, they kisses his cheek to thank him and wishing him a good night... Harry is slightly disappointed but he kisses their cheek back for the first time and the nymph gets so flustered and so Harry starts to leave but right before he could get out of the bushes the nymph appears in front of him and thank him again they caress his cheek right where they kissed it a few moments ago and in a deep breath Harry cups their face to bring it closer to his and as their lips are barely inches away he whispers can I kiss you to which the nymph only answers by pressing their lips to his,, when their lips finally detach they’re both blissfully looking at each other,, the nymph says good night and watch Harry walk away promising again he’ll be back the next morning

When he comes back the next morning bringing the nymph his usual offerings; food and flowers and crystals and rocks just things he knows they enjoy they spend the day again talking playing and singing they don’t mention the kiss but when the day ends and Harry is about to leave the nymph offers him a necklace they made out of pearls specially for him they ask if they can put it on him and as they’re done placing the necklace on Harry and he turns around to face them; they lean over to his face, eyes closed and lips pouted ready for a kiss... Harry giggles looking at their silly face expecting a kiss and they get embarrassed they explain to Harry that they thought it was custom to kiss after giving a gift and Harry cups their face and kiss their nose,, telling them how cute they are for being a little clueless on social norms,, he kisses their forehead and their eyelids and finally their lips before whispering that he loves to kiss them

From now on they make it a little tradition to kiss everytime they give each other something, making their own little social rules in their own little world

One day Harry arrives at the pond and the nymph is nowhere to be found but two other beautiful nymphs are there, they analyse him with despise talking among themselves that they don’t understand why the nymph of the pond would find interest in a human like him, they do refer to him as pretty and magnetic but that he’s a man and he’s never to be trusted... Harry doesn’t necessarily understands what’s happening but he just asks if the nymph is here referring to them by name and the nymph comes out and cast the others away, apologizing if their siblings were rude to him... Harry tells them that there’s no need to apologize and they keep their little ritual and learn about each other more

It’s only when the sun starts to come down that they’re laying on the grass, the nymphs head on Harry’s chest that they contemplate the sky in silence and the nymph kisses Harry’s chin and jaw and as the breeze passes them by they start to kiss, their hands traveling all over their bodies and their heartbeats synchronising... the soft evening air starts to feel heavier and it’s like there’s a wave of heat in the pond,, the nymph straddles themselves on Harry never unlocking their lips and when he breaks the kiss to breathe he’s suddenly very aware of what the other nymphs said about him; he becomes hesitant and shy away from the nymph’s mouth,,, he asks them if they really want to go further than a kiss, further than touches, if they’re sure they want him; if they really trust him

and the nymph only grabs his face to kiss him deeper to let him know that they never had a doubt and so they make love right there on the grass; the nymph on top of him, their hips moving to the rhythm of the water and their face gleaming in the golden hour and Harry can only say how beautiful they are, how perfect they are, how they feel so good.... Hes sitting up while the nymph rides him so he can make eye contact and kiss their lips, his hands resting on their waist, sliding on their hips and sometimes grabbing their ass, always moaning on the nymph’s lips about how magical they are and its when he picks them up to fuck into them that he finally hears them talk between muffled breaths and moans; repeatedly calling his name... he thrusts harder every time the word harry leaves their mouth until they both come undone on each other, the nymph first : waves of water covering Harry and a last moan of his name against his lips and barely seconds later Harry releases himself inside the nymph,,, thanking them time and time again

and now they’re staying in this position, their lips trying to find each other in the dark now that the sun has set, giggling in each other’s mouth its only after a while that Harry finally gets up to leave and the nymph is somehow terrified by the idea that he might never come back but right as he leaves, same as every night, he kisses them and promises to come back tomorrow....

so yeah thats about where im at in the nymph fantasy lmaodvnh from then he keeps coming back and they keep fucking in every possible positions so its just horny ass shit and then I thought maybe he’s gonna ask them to come to the city to visit the castle and attend a ball and since theyre a bit clueless on social cues it will be fun and awkward and maybe there’ll be conflict like he’s already promised to someone else or maybe he’s actually the god Apollo trapped in his human form and he’s found a new muse but now that hes in love he doesnt know what to do who knows my brain is full of possibilities lmaohsdvbhv

#I just realised this is 2K words long lmaoferjhbguer #I AM SO SORRY

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kareofbears · 3 years

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 1/5

“Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs to his apartment after a lengthy run.

It’s hot for spring, mild for summer, and now that it’s late June, it’s finally starting to teeter into real heat. He escalated slowly, gripping the guard rail like an old man to make sure his legs don’t give out, in no rush to head back to an empty apartment. His mom’s been doing back to back shifts, businesses booming like it does during this time of the year.

Normally, that would make him miserable. Nothing worse than hopping back from a day of fun shit only to come back to an empty living space with laundry piled to the nines and the TV left running. He doesn’t blame his mom because he’s not an asshole, but he never dealt well with being alone. But nowadays, he’s actually starting to like it. Crave it. Maybe a little too much.

It’s easier to deal with being alone than getting that sinking feeling he gets whenever he talks to his friends.

Shoving his hand in his basketball shorts, he pulls out his keys when something makes him pause. The plastic plant beside the entrance had been moved. Ryuji squints. Quietly, he grabs the knob and turns. It’s unlocked.

“Hey.”

Ryuji lets out a frustrated sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “Fucking hell. How’d you get in here?”

Seeing Ann sit primly with her legs crossed in a dining table that’s barely big enough to put two plates down evokes a feeling of nostalgia in him. She holds a key between her fingers idly. “Spare key hasn’t changed since we were thirteen.”

He walks to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk and drinks it straight, ignoring her grimace. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he offers it to her.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, putting it back in the fridge. “I’m gonna shower. I think we might have some chips in the cupboards if you want some. Might be stale though.”

When Ann speaks again, her tone is flat. “You haven’t been hanging out with us. Or even talking to us.”

He tries not to let the annoyance show in his face too much. “Yeah, well, what part of ‘I need some alone time’ was confusing to you?”

Wood creaks, and he can feel her presence right behind him. “Cut the crap, Sakamoto. Something happened, I know it did. It’s not like you for your big mouth to be shut like this.”

Shaking his head, he strides to his room, praying that Ann will take the hint.

She doesn’t. “Okay, so I’ll just keep talking until something happens.” She leans against his door frame as he rummages for a change of clothes, listing off with her fingers. “It’s summer vacation, so it’s not a school thing. Phantom Thief stuff has been done for a while, so it’s not that either. I saw your mom last week, and she’s doing great. Congratulate her on the promotion for me, by the way. And the only other thing in your life that’s important is—” he hears her pause suddenly. “Are you and Akira doing okay?”

The sudden sharpness in her voice is enough to make his irritation ebb away for a second. “We’re fine,” he answers, pulling a probably clean shirt from the bottom of his drawer. He knows just how much she’s invested in their relationship. She’s pretty much a third member given how desperate she is to make them work. “I would’ve told you if we weren’t.”

“Thank god,” she breathes. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes. “A big fat load of nothing with nothing sprinkled on top. You want me to say it again?”

“If it’s nothing, then why aren’t you over the moon that Akira’s finally visiting tomorrow?”

His stomach does a weird flop inside of him. He can’t tell if it’s a good flop or a bad one. “I’m over the moon,” he defends. “I’m crazy excited.”

“Then show it!”

“Okay! Damn, sorry I wasn’t happy enough for you.” Giving up on finding clean shorts, he picks one up from the floor and hopes it isn’t too gross. “I’m headed to the shower.” He rounds on her, giving her a glare. “And do not tell Akira that anything’s going on with me, ‘cause there isn’t anything going on. You’re just gonna make him worry for no reason and he’s gonna be all—” he frowns, overexaggerated. “—About this, so cool it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. He won’t hear about it from me.” Ann gives him a long stare, and he refuses to look away. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, softer this time.

“Never been better. Now scram.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” she calls as she marches through his apartment, foot out the door. “Noon! Leblanc!”

“I got it!” he yells back.

When the lock clicks back into place, Ryuji leans his back against the wall, letting his eyes slide shut. Is he that obvious that Ann would notice? He rubs his eyes with palms, frustrated. If Ann noticed, Akira’s definitely going to notice, and that isn’t allowed. He’ll just have to do better.

Going into the bathroom, flicking on the shower, he realizes he forgot his towel in his bedroom. Stupid Ann, distracting him.

Padding back to his room, he nabs it from the side of his bed, refusing to look at the letter collecting dust on his desk as he flicks the light off once more.

—

Akira came home to a face-full of streamers, two pots of curry, and six arms tackling him. Smiles and hugs were passed like a bottle of wine after a war has been won, and Akira shrugs it all off like he isn’t soaking up each and every exclamation of how much they miss him for a rainy day. Morgana gets his fair amount of head scratches, Akira gets enough noogies to warrant a concussion, and even Ryuji somehow manages to forget his problems for approximately three minutes.

It’s evening now, and while everyone had already left (not after slamming down two plates each and Yusuke brazenly asking for tupperware after the fact), Ryuji decided to linger.

“So,” he starts, sleeves rolled up as he washes the dishes while Akira dries. It might not look like it, but he doesn’t mind doing his chores; especially not with the way they both purposefully knock their knuckles against each other whenever they pass a plate between themselves.

“So,” Akira repeats. “I’m home. That’s cool, huh?” Even with eighteen layers of nonchalance layered on top of each other, there’s no hiding the lilt in his voice.

“Pretty damn cool,” he rinses a mug and hands it to him. Ryuji pauses as he watches Akira dry, lip quirked up. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Cleaning?”

“No, you bastard.” He reaches forward, unable to help himself as he pinches his cheek. “Smiley.”

Akira slaps his hand away. “I’m always happy,” he says, voice fond.

“I didn’t say happy, now did I? I said—” Ryuji wipes both hands on his jeans before pinching his cheek with both hands. “Smiley!”

He doesn’t fight back this time; instead, he lets Ryuji knead his face. “Your hands are wet,” he complains, slightly slurred.

“Suck it up.” His skin is mesmerizingly soft. Probably softer than even a girl’s. He would hold him like this all night if he’d let him. “This saves you from washing your face tonight, so you’re welcome.”

With one last tug, he reluctantly sets him free. Akira’s face is red and blotchy from the assault, but somehow he pulls it off because of course he does. “Thanks,” he deadpans.

“Don’t sweat it, dude. You know I got you,” he laughs, and for a second, he feels good. Light. Being with Akira does that to him, a pendant that wards off all evil. The pendant must’ve had some fine print in the contract though, because his stomach drops again when he remembers again. Ryuji turns around and starts scrubbing the pan harder than he needs to. Chill out, chill out, chill out.

Arms encircle his waist. “Sojiro’s gonna smite us if we don’t finish these before he opens tomorrow,” Ryuji says.

“I know.” A chin hooks around his shoulder blade, sliding in place. A perfect fit. “We’ll get to it.”

Ryuji leans back, far enough to smell the shampoo in his hair. He breathes in deep. It’s not what he’s used to, probably different brands in his hometown, but it still smells nice.

With the water still running, a group of businessmen’s laughter booming from just outside the cafe, Ryuji nearly says it. To take that weight off of his weakened knees and share some of the burden with someone who’s never complained about carrying some of his baggage. It would be embarrassing, humiliating, fucking mortifying, but it would be better than this, right?

He opens his mouth. “Missed you,” is what comes out instead.

“Missed you more, I think.” A beat passes, and then Akira continues, quietly: “You don’t know how good it feels to be back.”

That was all it took. The final piece, the last lock. The words he needed to convince him that this was the right thing to do. If he was on the fence of whether or not to tell Akira, this was the tug that took him over the edge. Because Akira came here for one reason: to have fun. To feel good again. To feel like Akira again. Is Ryuji really going to be the one to shit all over that? To fuck up his summer vacation with his problems again?

Yeah. Fuck that.

He wishes he can pull Akira impossibly closer. “Welcome home.”

It can wait until he leaves. After that, the world will just have to explode, taking him with it.

—

Ryuji’s in bed that night, tossing and turning, blanket tangled in his legs and head underneath his pillow, when he finally caves.

Smacking around for his phone, he pulls it to his face, squinting against the bright light.

SR: futaba

The response was immediate.

SF: what SR: that was fast. whatre you doing up SF: im always up. why are YOU up SR: just wanted to talk SF: ok

He waits a few moments to see if she’d continue the conversation. She doesn’t.

SR: hows school? SF: ?????? who cares, its three am SR: i care SF: ugh, go to sleep. we’re meeting tomorrow anyway SR: yeah but you dont talk about school during group meetings much SF: alright weirdo SF: schools cool. people mostly leave me alone, and i think akira must’ve tipped off kawakami cause she is wayyyy too nice to me even after bullying her in front of the class SR: what did you do lmfao SF: she said that whoever could recite pi to ten decimal points can get a bonus ten percent in the final SF: and i kept going until the bell rang SR: damn! SF: its mostly okay though. better than i thought it’d be for sure SR: and how about actual school stuff SR: like classes. Math, science, english, all that shit. SF: sheesh, easiest part no doubt. could do all that stuff in my sleep SR: really? even though youre a year behind? SF: uh yeah? i could be eight years behind and still dunk on these clowns with one hand tied behind my back and watching a live stream

Ah, right. Futaba’s a literal genius. As in ‘Make A Documentary Of Her In Twenty Years In A Movie He’d Never Watch But Makoto Would Love’ kind of genius. He forgot.

SR: nice SR: thanks, im gonna sleep now SF: kk see you SF: (¯﹃¯)

—

“Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Ryuji says when he opens the door to his apartment.

Ann is sitting in his dining chair once again, this time donned in hot pink shades and a comically big sun hat. He tries not to let annoyance and panic flare inside him. He loves her, because of course he does, but he was banking on stocking up some energy and alone time before they hit the road. Maybe even shed a couple of frustrated tears, who knows? As long as he’s alone, it’s fair game.

“Hey, don’t give me any of that,” Ann says. “You and packing your luggage is like mayonnaise and my flawless complexion—it’s not good, buster. Remember Hawaii?”

He feels his skin heat up, and slams the door harder than he should. “How the hell was I supposed to know I’d get randomly checked? ‘Sides, I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“A backpack filled with condoms and a toothbrush might as well have been illegal.” Ann reaches into her pocket, whipping out a wrinkled piece of paper. “You can’t pull that kinda crap now, and if I know him as well as I do, I’m sure Akira’s already packing for that.” She laughs at her own joke and raises her hand enthusiastically. He can’t help but grin as he high fives her. Hey, even if his life is falling apart, at least he’s still getting some, right?

“So I’m here to help,” she continues, shaking the sting from her palms. “I finished packing a day early and everything, so I better get some thanks after this.” Before he can complain, she holds up a finger, expression stern. “I know you don’t need help. Yes, I’m still worried about you. Yes, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you. Let me do this stupid little thing, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”

His stomach churns, more intense than usual. “You’re still worried about me?” he asks, breath hitching. What? No. Did he fail at that too? Does she know? That must mean Akira knows, right? And if Akira knows, then—

“Whoa, hold on!” A hand grips his shoulders. “Deep breaths, Sakamoto. Don’t spiral on me now.” Gently, he’s led to a chair. He sits gratefully and waits for his heart rate to drop. The entire time, Ann stays quiet.

Eventually, when the room stops closing in on him, he sighs and leans back against his chair. “Sorry,” he says, feeling really stupid. Damn, what happened to him keeping this on the down low?

She slaps his knee. “Shut up, don’t apologize for that,” she scolds, and he almost smiles. It’s easy to forget how good Ann is at this sort of thing. For better or for worse, she’s had plenty of practice while talking to Shiho. The grip on his knee tightens. “Ryuji…”

He shakes his head. “No.”

And, for better or for worse, she absolutely does not let things go.

“Look, buddy.” The grip is starting to hurt, and it means business if her red acrylics are anything to go by. “I just saw you have a teensy little panic attack two damn minutes ago, and you’re expecting me to just leave you to it? Are you a clown? Are you a clown in a circus, Sakamoto? Is that what you are?”

“I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He shoves her hand off his knee, and before he knows it, his voice is raised. “Christ, can’t you just leave me alone? All you do is get up in my business when I clearly didn’t ask you to. Just cause we did this whole Phantom Thief crap together doesn’t mean it gives you the right to everything going on in my life.”

He loathes the ringing in his ears from his own voice. He hates it when he yells in the apartment, but hates the silence that follows more. Too much like his dad, too much like his exhausted mom.

Ann is staring up at him, hard and unwavering. “You’re such a piece of shit sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“If you want me off your tail, you’re gonna have to work harder than that.” She gets on her feet, glaring at him. “‘Piss me off and make me leave in tears’ was your tactic, right? Boring. Overdone. Try again.”

The way she’s standing, shoulders pushed back and chin jutted out like she’s ready for a shoot in some kind of army magazine, means she’s dead serious.

“Ann, just get the fuck out of my house. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Ooo, classic 'angry and make me storm off’, right? Better, but not good enough.”

“What the hell are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you could say whatever pops into your bleached head—” she flicks his forehead, viciously sharp nails digging into his skin. “And I wouldn’t go anywhere. You could call me names, or threaten me, or try to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are bright blue, but he can still feel the heat of it like Carmen was inches in front of him. His throat quivers when he swallows. She’s really not going to give in.

“My knee’s been real bad lately,” he relents, making a fist and lightly knocking it against his thigh. “Normally it acts up during bad weather, but the sun hasn’t left in weeks and it still sucks. I didn’t wanna tell anyone, ‘cause I hate talking about…” he trails off, but she doesn’t need him to continue. They both know damn well who he’s referencing.

Ann’s face crumbles. “That’s horrible,” she says, absently rubbing the red mark on his forehead. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

He waves it off, the same way he does whenever his mom asks him if he’s getting enough sleep. “Don’t sweat it. I know how crazy you get.”

It’s a real testament to how worried she must’ve been when she didn't take the olive branch. “I know you probably don’t want to worry the group, but you should tell Akira.”

“Ann—” he starts wearily.

“You know I’m right about this. Now that the Metaverse is back and we’re going to be running around more, he can’t not know about this. Your boyfriend aside, he’s our leader. Something really nasty can happen if we’re not thinking straight.”

“...Sure.”

Ann gives him a weird look. “That was surprisingly easy. I thought you’d complain more.”

She’s getting way too sharp. “What, you wanted me to be a dick about it?”

“I guess not.” Leaning against his kitchen counter, she chews her lip like it’s bubble gum. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji stands to stretch, ready for this conversation to be over. “You can keep this between us—”

“—Except for Akira,” they say in unison, Ryuji exasperated and Ann insistent.

“Fine. I’ll back off if you think you have it under control.”

“Hallelujah, she’s finally giving me space.”

“But,” her gaze is harder than steel. “Never, ever keep secrets from me again, got it?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Gotcha. Can we get started now? I’m over talking about my horrible past so that we can finally have a straight-out-of-an-anime summer vacation.”

Her eyes brighten up. “Yes! Okay, I made this huge list and I know for a fact we’re gonna have to go for a quick shopping trip—”

“Quick? So, like, three hours going by your standards?”

“Don’t interrupt me. We need to pack some swim trunks, toiletries, and I know you’re worried about your mom so we’ll go grocery shopping for her before we leave in the morning.” Feet tapping excitedly, “This is gonna be so fun. You start packing, I’ll go shopping. Rendezvous in an hour.”

Before he even gets a chance to put a word in, she’s already out the door.

—

Later that night, when everything is messily thrown into one oversized backpack and a rucksack and the fridge is chock full of groceries for his overworked mother, he gets a text.

TA: i know you said not to bring it up but i dont care TA: i searched it up and apparently cold and hot compresses can help with the pain on your knee TA: also getting shoes with really good support would help too. i modeled for some shoe brands, i can def get you some discounts!!! TA: like, i know this is all base level stuff and you know this already, but i bet you we can ask sophia for more help. maybe she can access top secret doctor stuff for knee injuries?? :O

Ryuji stares at his phone for a long moment, before shoving it under his pillow.

Great. Add ‘guilt’ and ‘keeping up with a lie’ to the list of shit he has to worry about.

—

“A lake!” Yusuke cries, kneeling in front of the body of water like a man discovering a desert oasis. Gently, he cups the clean water and cradles it against his cheek. “You are nothing like the garbage-infested sewers in Tokyo. You are crystal clear. You are divine. You are salvation. You are—”

“Akira, Inari’s being a weirdo again,” Futaba points an accusing finger at Yusuke, who’s shirt is slowly absorbing more and more of the water. “At this rate, he’s gonna have to change.”

Makoto grunts as she lugs out the grill singlehandedly, a loud clang ringing out when she nonchalantly sets down a family-sized piece of machinery. “Alright, here it is.” She catches the look of awe that Ryuji’s giving her. “Does it still shock you that I can probably bench press you twice over?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where you’re hiding all that muscle, prez,” he snorts, and it’s the truth. Her and Akira must be the same breed, considering they’re both way too lithe to be this strong. He’s seen the way they throw a punch in the Metaverse—they could probably disintegrate a dude in real life if they really wanted to. Like yeah they workout, but not that much. Maybe they’re dieting too? He’s tried dieting, but ramen is just way too good, even at the expense of muscles.

“Ryuji, when you’re done spacing out, can you grab the ingredients?” Akira calls out.

“Ugh, cut the mind reading dude, it scares the hell out of me.”

He shoots him a signature Kurusu Akira smile; small yet disarming all the same, and it never fails to get Ryuji’s heart to do weird flips. “It’s not mind reading once you realize that I’m just obsessed with you.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji grumbles as he stalks off into the RV. Damn him and his genuine words and compliments.

He pulls out their luggage from underneath the table. Akira doesn’t need to say what ingredients he needs to grab—he’s helped out enough times during Leblanc’s afterhours to know the curry spices by heart. Ryuji might be a failure, but hey, he can do this no problem.

Grabbing bottles and shakers and balancing them on top of his arms like an overworked waiter, he glances left and feels his heart dropped. The envelope from his room—dust-free from rubbing against the rest of his luggage—is sticking out of his backpack. After a quick adjustment, he uses his free hand to shove it deep in his bag, hearing the paper crinkle in on itself.

It was a spur of the moment decision to bring it along with him, one that he’s still half-regretting. Why’d he do it? Maybe he was worried that he might enjoy this trip a little too much? Maybe he was some kind of masochist that likes having his problems and anxiety follow him literally everywhere he goes? Maybe he was scared to hell and back that his mom would find it before he had a chance to tell her himself? Fuck if he knows.

Poking his head out of the door, he yells, “Heads up!”

Throwing a bottle of black pepper, Akira catches it without looking. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Too late, I already sweat a little bit.”

Ryuji squints. “It’s sweated. Right, Ann?”

“Don’t look at me. I went to America for modelling, not a spelling bee.”

“I won all my spelling bees in middle school,” Makoto says, chest puffed out in pride.

“Were you the only one who joined?”

“That’s not important.”

Akira’s phone beeps enthusiastically, and Sophia’s voice rings out. “Got it! According to the internet, ‘sweat’ and ‘sweated’ are both grammatically valid. Technically, both Ryuji and Ann are correct.”

“Can we all just shut up for a second about sweating, for the love of god,” Futaba fans her face weakly. “It’s already sooooo hot. I feel like my skin is melting. Yusuke, is my skin melting?”

He looks at her for a moment, peering closely. “Yes.”

“How about we go in for a quick dip in the lake?” Haru offers, and Ryuji suspects that she can feel the same energy that he’s feeling when the group gets like this. “We were all talking about how beautiful it was, and it would cool down Futaba-chan no problem.”

She leans down, swirling her hand in the water. “It’s a little chilly, but it’ll definitely take care of the heat.”

“Good idea!” Futaba jumps up and throws off her shoes, ready to march in. “This is gonna feel so good.”

“Socks!” Akira reminds her.

“I know that!”

Haru and Yusuke follow suit, eager to get away from the heat, Makoto going in to change to shorts. Ryuji guesses it’s probably not an easy feat to roll up leather pants. Probably makes it either to ride motorcycles, or whatever people with leather pants do.

He feels a poke in his side. “You hopping in with them?” Akira asks.

No. The answer is already at the tip of his tongue, ready to roll out. Given how cramped the RV is, keeping up the trademark Sakamoto energy while lugging more baggage than an airport employee is brutal. It’s barely been a day since they started the trip, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Already his chest feels heavy with something, and whenever all the windows are rolled up, it gets weirdly hard to breathe. But if he says no, Akira would definitely know something was up.

“Uh—”

“Actually, I think we’ll take over the curry for you,” Ann cuts in.

Ryuji turns to her, startled and wide eyed.

“Why?” Akira asks, just as confused as he is. They both know how much Ann loves being in the middle of things, especially in group hangouts.

“Because you look like you could use a break. I know for a fact that you had to pack Yusuke’s stuff for him, or else the van would’ve had fifteen canvases and an easel, and you had to grocery shop for everyone, and talk Haru out of a guilty spiral because she wasn’t confident enough in her driving. And all this before—” Ann looks down at her wrist to peer at a non-existent watch. “Five o’clock.

He frowns. “Sure, but I’ve done twice as much during our prime. This,” he gestures at the pot. “Is a walk in the park. Thank you, though.”

Ann sighs, heavy and contemplative. “I didn’t want to say it out right, but since you’re being difficult…” She places a hand on his shoulder. “You should hang out with Futaba more. Being gone from her for that long has been rough, and yes, we took care of her while you weren’t there, but you’re different.” Her hand tightens. “You know, Wild Card and all that.”

“That’s not what that means, but I appreciate the effort,” Akira says. Despite his words, it’s clear that what she said bothered him. Eyes flickering to Futaba, enthusiastically kicking the water to see how far the droplets would go, he directs his gaze to Ryuji. “Is it okay if…?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, pretending like relief isn’t crashing through his body. “Go.”

Akira kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” When he pulls away, he gives Ann a hesitant look.

She grimaces. “Thanks, but no. Go hangout with the gremlin.”

He gives her a salute and saunters off, rolling up his jeans to wade through the water, making sure to splash Futaba on the way there.

After a moment of silence, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll say it. Your acting classes are actually doing you some good.”

“Ha!” she points at him triumphantly. “And you said it’d be a waste of time!”

“I didn’t say that.” Ryuji slouches into a nearby camping chair, the one that Sojiro forced them to lug along, hoping that some of his fatigue would seep away. “We both know that Futaba’s never been better, so what’s up? Why’d you throw out Akira like that?”

“It’s not for me, stupid,” she scoffs, but he can’t help but feel the weight in his chest get even heavier. He sinks even deeper into his chair. “The water was cold, right? That would make your knee even worse.”

“Yeah,” he blinks, having already forgotten the whole fucked-up knee story. “Thanks.”

“I won’t chew you out for not telling Akira, even though I should. But like I said,” she ruffles his hair. “I got your back. I know it must be hard, but you’re still acting all normal. We’re lucky that it’s only affecting you in the real world, too.” She had come up with that one herself, and thank god she did, cause he wouldn’t have known what to say if she had confronted him on how he could easily do flips and sprints in the Metaverse. “That just takes a lot of guts, and even though I know for a fact this would make you feel so much better once you tell him, I trust that you know what you need better than me.”

“Quit trying to look all cool,” he says, and prays to fucking god that the red on his face comes off as embarrassed gratitude rather than earth-shattering guilt. “And aren’t you supposed to be cooking, curry master?”

“Hey, he asked you to do it, not me. I’ll help you get the ingredients, but no way I’m doing the whole cooking shebang.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, as if he doesn’t secretly love the idea of getting to cook for Akira this time instead of the other way around. Pushing himself up, Ann reaches out to help him. “You don’t gotta baby me, Takamaki.”

“I’ll baby you for as long as I need to, and then eventually Akira will be the one babying you. We come in shifts.”

“I hope you’re unionized.”

Makoto pokes her head out of the RV, wearing a showercap. “Did someone say unionized?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji staggers back in shock. Crap. “How long have you been there?”

“And why are you wearing that?” Ann gasps.

“Not long, and I don’t want my hair getting wet in case I fall in. We have no idea what’s been in here.”

“Were you going to fall in a bathtub?”

“Did you want me to push you in?”

“No, ma’am.”

—

There wasn’t a problem initially. Well, not one in Palaces, anyway. Wait, they’re called Jails now, which is really confusing. Ryuji’s just gonna have to avoid using those words so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.

Back in Shibuya, it had been...fine. Attacks landed, punches were dodged, Batons passed like his life depended on it (and it did). Like clockwork, instinct came to him and the weird nostalgic normalcy of fighting Shadows made it bearable.

Ryuji was off his game, and he could tell.

But he was barely off his game. If anything, he still had a foot on his game. Maybe even an entire leg on the game if he was being generous. He was still enough on the game that even Akira doesn’t notice.

But the weird part was, he doesn’t mind the fact that he’s off his game. In an even weirder way, he’s never been more on his game in his entire life.

“There!” Futaba’s voice crackles through the comms. “Uncle is open wide!”

“Her name is Ante, Oracle,” Makoto responds, brass knuckles jammed into the throat of some poor Shadow. “It’s open, but it’s vicious.”

Ryuji calls for Kidd just as she pulls away, wiping out the rest of the weaker ones with ease. “This thing’s like a goddamn mousetrap.” Ante’s serpent body slithering on the cool tiles so fluidly that it gives him the creeps. Her tail has tiny spikes etched into it, like mini knives hot glued onto a tetherball. The minute any of them even come close, she strikes outwards. “How vicious is vicious?”

“Depends on how fast you are.”

Akira’s head jerks up, and when their eyes meet, cracks a smile. “Fast, you say?”

Ryuji grins wider than he has in days. Joker relying on him? How can someone not feel a little giddy at that? “Say no more, leader.”

He stretches quickly, and feels eyes piercing the back of his head. Ann, probably. Shrugging it off, he sprints low towards Ante. As long as Ann doesn’t say a word, there won’t be a problem.

She’s taken hits from where Akira’s been concentrating on her. A mixture of bullet holes in its scales mixed in with cross slashes from where his bless attacks hit had left her delirious and pissed off. When he’s close, she bares her fangs and strikes, only for him to skid on the smooth tiles, rugged hands touching his mask.

“Come on out, Captain!”

His blond hair ruffled from Kidd’s attack, a crack of lightning came down from his Persona’s mangled hand, and a split second later her tail had been sliced clean through. And another crack comes, her neck landing on the tiles with a muffled thud. An attack that should’ve just been enough to incapacitate Ante had instead completely decapitated her.

A beat of silence passed as everyone processed what had happened. Ryuji’s mouth drops open, but he can’t muster any surprise.

He doesn’t know how, or why, but for some reason his attacks have been at least five times as strong as they had been back before the Metaverse was still intact. Moves that he didn’t even know are on the tip of his tongue, as if he had practiced them all his life. Normally this would only happen after rigorous training for months, adding up in tiny increments.

Now it happens every day.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the right side of the gym today,” Futaba laughs awkwardly.

“What on earth was that, Skull?” Haru asks, eyes wide. “I had never seen you do something like that.”

Morgana’s tail swished. “She makes a good point. When’d you learn that one?”

“I don’t know.” He calls back Captain Kidd, eyeing the drop that Ante had left behind, but doesn’t move forward to snatch it up. “But whatever the reason is, it’s awesome as hell. I mean, did you see that? Sliced that thing open like a stuffed bear.”

“Let’s not bring stuffed animals into this, please,” Makoto frowns.

Akira’s giving him a look again, and it leaves Ryuji unsettled. “What is it, dude? I got something on my face?”

“No,” he steps closer, and his voice drops. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I’ve never been better, man.” He flashes him a grin, hoping that it’s bright enough to distract Akira’s ever-searching eyes. “Come on, let’s get moving. Natsume’s heart isn’t gonna change itself.”

After one last glance, he nods, and Ryuji can see the minute Calculating Joker comes back. “You heard him. Let’s get moving, everyone.”

They all follow him up the stairs, eager to get moving past the eternally bleary and uncreatively written setting of Natsume’s Jail.

“Psst!” Ryuji hisses at Ann, who turns to him with a question in her eyes. “Panther! Get your ass over here!”

“What?” she whispers back.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I fucked up my knee when I rushed her, and I still haven’t told Joker, so do you mind…?”

An expected look of disapproval emerges from her expression, and Ryuji hurries to beat her to the punch. “I know, I know! But I can’t tell him in the middle of all this, now can I?”

“Fine,” she grumbles before calling Carmen. “I’ll cover you for now, but only ‘cause I’m a good friend and I’m super cute.”

“Yeah, the cutest, prettiest, whatever.” He glances over to Akira, swooping down to grab Ante’s drops before heading up. “Quick, before he looks back.”

Diarama washes over him, and even though relief floods through his body, he can feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. He’s not sure if it’s from her inherent heat or from the stress of lying to her again.

“Better?” Ann asks.

“Way better. Thanks.” He catches Sophia looking at them curiously. “The kid’s watching us. You better move ahead before she starts analyzing our personality types or something.”

Her eyes light up. “You think she’d do it if I asked? I really wanna know.”

“Just go!”

Ann hurries to catch up to Sophia, and while she’s distracted, Ryuji gently rolls up sleeves—he had gotten nicked by Ante as he slid. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he had gotten thrown through walls, been hit by mini hurricanes, been blown up by a boat, and walked away from all that still swinging.

Yet lately, any tiny, fractional, miniscule injury is enough to shoot unbearable pain throughout his entire body. It’s as if he was back in Kamoshida’s Palace, where every punch thrown at him had been life or death.

Glancing down at his forearm, he sighs. The cut was gone, but he can’t keep asking Ann to heal him in secret every time.

“Skull?”

Hurriedly pulling down his sleeve, he glances up to see Akira standing in front of him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you,” he says casually, as if those words don’t mean the entire goddamn world to Ryuji. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “My bad. Let’s go.”

They clambered up the staircase, and Ryuji decides that all of that stuff—getting injured and having it hurt like hell—just isn’t too important.

That just means that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn't get hit, and he’s had plenty of experience dodging punches that were thrown at him before.

—

“Cheers!”

All of them raise their red plastic cups, clinking it against each other in a way that they see adults do all the time on TV. Apple juice and iced tea slosh as they gulp it down eagerly, excitement so prevalent that they can hardly taste the cheap, convenience store-esque quality of their drink.

“This isn’t too bad,” Makoto muses, leaning against the faux-leather seats of the RV. “Though it would probably taste better if it wasn’t room temperature.”

“Does it look like this place has a mini fridge?” Futaba says, legs swinging down from her top bunk. “That’s a good idea though. I should’ve bought mine from home. Can you imagine we’re halfway through a six hour road trip and you want iced coffee and boom! Two feet behind you is Futaba’s Ice Cold Cafe, one hundred yen per use.”

“I hope you’d be ready to sleep on it, because this place is cramped enough as is,” Akira slaps the wall a few times, the way a rancher would a sturdy horse. “We’re lucky with what we have.”

“I know that! Without this thing we never would have been able to conquer Natsume’s Jail.” She reaches down to muss Yusuke’s hair. “I’m sure Inari feels good about that.”

He smiles, hair sticking up in all directions. “Of course I feel satisfied. Though I understand his struggle, being able to stop a fellow artist into becoming a true monster is always something that will bring me joy. Justice will never stop feeling good.”

“Cheers to that!” Ann raises her drink. “And you know what? This wouldn’t have been possible had Ryuji not kicked some major ass in that Jail.”

The group whoops and hoots loudly, and Ryuji can’t help but scoff when Ann winks at him. “Aw guys, you’re making me blush. I’m fucking awesome, sure, but we’re all pretty amazing.”

Haru shakes her head. “She’s right, Ryuji-kun. WIthout you, defeating dragon Natsume would’ve been much more difficult.”

“Even I can admit that you’ve gotten much stronger, Skull.” Morgana leaps onto the table, licking up the bowl of apple juice that Haru had left him. It feels wrong to let an animal drink that, but he’d never say anything about it. “Have you been training?”

Ryuji shrugs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ooo, look at Mr. Humble all of a sudden,” Futaba jeers.

“I’m always humble!”

Ann grimaces. “I don’t think so. Remember when you finally got Akira to go on a date with you—”

“How dare you. He was begging me to go on a date with him—”

“And you wouldn’t stop telling us about how you had nabbed the coolest guy in Tokyo—”

Ryuji nearly jumps over the booth to put a hand on her mouth. “Quit yammering, Takamaki, I’m begging you.” He feels something slimy on his hand, and pulls back quickly. “Ew, did you lick me?! That’s so effing gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He feels a hand on the small of his back, warm and familiar. “I don’t think you’re gross, Ryuji,” Akira says. “I think you’re very clean.”

A harmonic beep rings through the air. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sophia’s clear voice cuts in. “But Akira, you got an email.”

“Thanks Sophie.” He points to where his phone is perched on the windowsill, propped up so she can see them celebrate their victory. “Can you…?”

Ryuji wordlessly passes it to him as everyone breaks off into smaller conversations, chatter blending into each other until it sounds like the kind of white noise he would queue up when he’s desperate to get some studying done. Immediately, Akira begins scanning through his phone, gray eyes focused.

He props his head against his shoulder to read alongside him and makes a noise of interest. “You signed up for cram school?” he asks, surprised.

“I did,” he replies, thumbing through the details of his admission.

Ryuji stares at him. “But you’re so fucking smart. Why are you paying who knows what to learn shit you already know?”

“Because Tokyo U barely cracks a 30% admission rate, and chemistry is hell incarnate.” With one last few clicks, he sets his phone down with a wince. “Sure is expensive though. We might have to reform the heart of someone in the education committee.” When he continues to stare at him wordlessly, Akira turns to him. “Don’t worry, I’m still leeching off of the Thieves' money from last year, so it’s not too bad when you take into account my part-time back home.”

“No, that’s not—I’m just—” he shakes his head and forces himself to start over. “Since when did you decide on Tokyo University?”

It’s Akira's turn to look taken aback. “What do you mean? You’d never leave Tokyo, especially if it meant leaving your mom.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m making you choose between me and your hometown!” he exclaims, but he already knows in his heart what Akira’s choice is going to be. It’s stupidly obvious. For some reason, the longer this conversation goes on, the tighter his chest feels.

The feeling doubles when Akira’s eyes, always focused and always sharp, subdued at his words. “Are you really comparing yourself to that place? You know I’d choose you over anything.” He reaches forward and combs through Ryuji’s hair, hushed and gentle in a way that only Akira can manage. “I’m so excited to live life with you again.”

The white noise, so comfortable before, abruptly turns overwhelmingly loud—grating and unbearable and painful to be around. Ryuji stands abruptly, barely reacting to Futaba’s yelp when he backs into her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I…” his eyes dart around, flinching when he accidentally makes eye contact with Akira, and again when he locks eyes with Ann.

The sudden silence from the group is somehow worse than the noise from before, and if the tightness in his chest gets any more painful, his lungs are gonna burst into a million pieces and he’s not gonna be able to pick it all up from the ground if everyone’s watching.

“Trash,” he blurts out.

“What?” Makoto blinks, glancing up from her map.

“This place is disgusting and it’s way too cluttered and it’s bad to leave such a big mess so I’m gonna—” Ryuji grabs the plastic bag filled with garbage, haphazardly tossing empty cans and plastic cups into it. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Before they can question him, he’s already out of the RV, towing trash and leaving his friends behind him.

—

“What the fuck was that?!” Ryuji screams into the sky.

He was far enough from the trailer that he knew they couldn’t hear him even if they had strained their ears, and it was late enough into the night that even the tourists weren’t poking around to look at the shrines or the Great Masamune himself.

“Keep it a secret’, my ass! That was the second dumbest thing—no, the third dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. Do you know how high that threshold is, Sakamoto? High! Higher than you can see with your own two eyes! Higher than Yaldabaoth’s goddamn crane-sized spine!”

Swooping down, he grabs a fistful of pebbles and throws it as hard as he can. “You are so selfish! What happened to keeping ‘Kira happy, you effing asshole?” Relishing in how far it went, he takes another two more. “You are so annoying. You are—” he throws, the rocks landing with a little plink. “Insufferable. Stupid. Selfish. A fucking—” this time, he doesn’t even know where it lands. “Gah!”

Turning on his heel, he glares up at the statue and grits his teeth when he sees Masamune’s stoic expression. “Don’t give me that look—you’re dead. You ain’t got nothing to complain about. Everyone’s remembering you as the guy who saved Japan, or whatever. But guess what? You’re probably a loser. A dumb, stupid loser who convinced everyone that you’re good for something when you’re worth jack shit!”

Before he can stop himself, he takes the garbage bag full of cans, glass bottles, and crumpled chip bags and hurls it at Masamune. It hits the base of the statue, far below damaging the One-Eyed Dragon himself, but the glass cracks under the force of being thrown, tearing through the plastic and causing trash and shards to explode all over the steps. Ryuji’s chest is heaving as he stares down at what he’s done.

“Impressive.”

He whirls around at the voice behind him, stomach lurching straight to the ground when he sees who it was. “In his years of war, I doubt that anyone’s ever tried throwing waste in his direction in order to defeat him.”

“Yusuke,” he breathes, feeling his frustration draining away to make room for even more guilt, if that was even possible. Ryuji cannot possibly look any more of an asshole than he does right now—tearing his throat raw in a public space, surrounded by the garbage he had thrown at a national monument in front of a guy who clearly worships and respects art that’s old as hell. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I was just…” he hesitates. “Talking to myself.”

Yusuke hums, unconvinced, and carefully approaches the mess in front of him. Ryuji waves him off. “No, don’t. Broken glass is a bitch, especially the little pieces. If that gets in your skin, it’s game over. You’d have to go into the hospital for sure.” He grimaces. “Trust me. My dad used to throw beer bottles at our place like he was in a ball game, and that ain’t fun, I promise you that.”

“I see.” Turning around, Ryuji hoped that he was magically going to head back to the group and not mention this to anyone there, but instead Yusuke stopped in front of a water fountain. “You’re right. If you’re not careful, it could be very easy to hurt yourself when dealing with broken glass.” Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket in a way that only Yusuke can, he soaks it in water before crouching down at the shards glimmering under moonlight. “But if you use wet fabric to dab it on the shards itself—” he pats the concrete and flips the fabric over, revealing the moist and glistening pieces stuck on its side. “You can clean up the pieces with little to no danger.”

“Huh.” After a moment, he realizes that he’s making Yusuke do the dirty work for him. “Pass me that. Thanks for the tip, but I can take it from here. I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s totally my fault that the glass is here anyway.”

He doesn’t look up from his task, eyes focused and movement meticulous. “No need. If you’d like to help, you can start picking up the non-dangerous litter around us.”

Ryuji does as he’s told, wincing as he has to pick up sticky, pop-soaked wrappers with his bare hands but he doesn’t complain. Karmic retribution has never held back against him. “The glass thing,” he starts, squatting down and picking up empty cans and plastic utensils with curry remnants still stuck to them. “They teach you that in Kosei?”

“No, from one of Madarame’s past pupils actually.” Yusuke shifts over to dab at another glass-covered section, concrete looking clearer with every pat. “Sensei had a rather violent habit of hurling canvases at the wall if they do not meet his standards, and his actions had led to many of our more fragile belongings being shattered when he did.” His tone doesn’t change, but Ryuji can see his shoulders tighten. “At least it allowed me to move away from that house very quickly, considering I had very little to pack away.”

Ryuji opens his mouth to comfort him. Instead, he finds himself speaking in a low tone. “Glad that bastard is rotting in jail,” he resists the urge to spit on the ground. “Then afterwards, I hope he rots in hell, just to really cover all of our bases.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yusuke. “Thank you,” he smiles, and all Ryuji can do is nod. There isn’t much you can say after that without making it weird. But how weirder can it possibly get when the two of you are off towing around someone’s perception of the world on a daily basis?

They continue to work in silence; the wind is gentle, but it’s enough to rustle the leaves and allow Ryuji to feel some relief from the summer heat. He’s picking up wet paper tissues, and it’s gross, but it’s nice to be doing something with his hands.

He’s just about done his part of the clean-up when he can’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

“No,” Yusuke answers without looking up. That’s another thing that Ryuji really appreciates about him—playing dumb has never been something that he’s done to get out of an awkward situation. To be fair though, Yusuke himself is an awkward situation.

“Why not?”

“Did you want me to?”

That question makes him pause, and Yusuke doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve always been the most vocal in the group, and while many a time it has been our downfall in terms of secrecy, I have always considered it one of your strong points. And if you, Sakamoto Ryuji, are indeed struggling with using your words,” Yusuke’s eyes turn to him. “Then it must be very difficult to talk about.”

A beat passes. “No,” Ryuji mutters. “I don’t want you to ask.”

“Then I won’t,” he says easily. “But I do have a question.”

“Lay it on me.”

Yusuke shuffles to crouch down next to him, and it’s kinda weird seeing someone as elegant as him pose like some kind of hoodlum. “Does Akira know about your struggle?”

His mind flashes back to the confused look back in the RV and he scratches his neck roughly. “I bet he does now.”

Yusuke leans back, shocked. “He doesn’t know?”

“I’m getting there! Don’t pressure me, man. You said it yourself, I’m fucking struggling.”

“Well, yes, I did say that, but it’s Akira,” he says the name almost reverently. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that something is askew.”

“I just said that, didn’t I? Goddamn, you and Ann are just two of the same peas in the same freaking pond, aren’t you?”

“It’s ‘pod’, Ryuji,” he corrects. “Ann is aware?”

“She—” Ugh, how does he explain that she thinks she knows, but really he had lied about what he told her? “She basically knows.” And because his fat mouth just keeps getting fatter, “She’s sort of part of the problem.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen and Ryuji hurries to cover up for his mistake. “She’s not a problem, it’s just that I didn’t explain…It’s really my fault, and how I deal with internal shit, you know what I’m saying? And Ann’s just kind of in the crossfire, so what ended up happening is when I talk to her about what I’m feeling, I end up just feeling worse.” He winces. First he lies to her and now he’s shit-talking her? “I did not say that. What I really mean is that, uh, feelings...and actions...are complicated,” he finishes weakly.

“I see,” he says finally.

It seems that even Yusuke has a threshold for uncomfortable moments, because he rises to his feet. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Thanks for the glass trick.”

“No need to mention it. It’s much easier to clean up a mess when you have someone helping you.” He points vaguely behind himself, “Would you like to head back together? I’m sure by now the festivities are winding down, and the trash you were so keen on disposing of has definitely been thrown away.”

Ryuji blanches. It grossed him out that he forgot he was holding an armful of garbage in his hand. “You go ahead. I just need to,” he rocks his arms, almost cradling the wet garbage. “Throw this out.”

“Very well. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

He waves at him, and Ryuji wiggles in response (unless he wants it all hitting the ground and restarting that whole process again, which, no thanks.) After dumping it all into a nearby trash can, the process of which lasts several minutes since he still had to sort out the recycling, he feels a buzz in his pocket.

KA: come back when you can KA: i miss you

He takes a shaky breath.

SR: on my way

#p5 #p5s #ryuji sakamoto #akiryu #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #akira kurusu #pegoryu #happy birthday ryuji this ones for you

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ughitsnic · 4 years

Text

Quarantine fluff: Tom Holland

Request for some quarantine fluff with tom.i hope this was okay i wasn't really sure on what to write but i had fun and got carried away and for once its over 1k. which is alot for me lol.

i cant think of a title so if you have any suggestions please please let me know.

When lock down was being announced tom did everything he could to convince you to stay with him at his house opposed to you staying at your uni accommodation and of course you couldn't say no to those big brown puppy dog eyes, even if you had only been dating just over 2 months.

"Babe we can finally watch all of those movies we wanted to. Every night will be movie night and we can go out on walks with Tessa in the evening and watch the sun set. We could get a new hobby. I know you wanted to start painting" Tom says quickly getting over excited and setting the hopes way to high for this quarantine. These movie nights and evening walks only lasted a week, who was you kidding it lasted 3 whole days and the plans quickly changed to spending all day snuggled in bed together the same tv show, that you had both watched a million times, was playing in the background.

"You're such a pretty boy" you whisper tracing your finger down the slope of his nose and kissing it softly and flatten down his unruly brows. Everything about this boy was perfect and you couldn't believe how lucky you were to be with him right now.

"Babygirl..." he whispers resting his head against yours. "I am nothing compared to you, this might sound cheesy but youre smile physically makes my knees weak" your cheeks immediately heat up at his sweet words.

"Gross!" Harrison shouts pretending to be sick in the doorway. "It's 2pm time to actually get out of bed lovebirds" he groans. "I'm going to Tesco what do you want"

"Stuff to make bread" you say. "I've seen everyone making bread, it can't be that hard" you explain.

Bread making lasted 2 weeks, 3 at the most. You were sitting on the kitchen floor, your back against the counter, Tom across from you as you waited for the bread to bake, you absentmindedly scroll through instagram the bread was almost done and you couldn't wait to try it, you had a good feeling about this loaf.

"If this is anything like last time i'm banning you from touching the oven until this is over" he warns as the timer goes off, you carefully get the bread out, so far so good.

"It smells amazing" he admits getting up. You get the knife and slice it carefully, immediately frowning it looked nothing like the picture in the book. You pass it to Tom to try and you watch his face as he takes a bite, scrunching up his nose, unlike last time there wasn't disgust written across his face. His eyes widen as he takes another

"Is it good?" You ask nervously, biting your lip, he quickly nods covering his mouth.

"Really good, really really y/n you should drop out of uni and start baking bread full time" he says cutting another slice. "Open"

Then the tiktok addiction and of course tom was the better dancer and he easily mastered every dance after only 10 minutes.

“Don't post that!” Tom begs as you continue to cry with laughter at the clip of him throwing it back to savage. You wipe the tears. “y/n baby please!” he whines reaching for the phone.

“If i don't post it can i save the video, just for me please” if looks could kill, you would be dead right now. “Remember that picture you have of me, i let you keep it” you try to bargain with him. He laughs reaching for his own phone and getting that picture up and showing you. You cringe. You were passed out on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the toilet. You were so drunk that night, it was when you all thought it would be a good idea to start drinking everyday at 10am because there was nothing else to do and you all got yourself into some messes. Whilst the memories were funny, the hangovers are lethal.

“Or was it this picture?” tom smirks, yet another drunk picture of you but this time you were stood on the coffee table, listing your skirt flashing a pair of spiderman boxers you brought as a joke. “Ill suppose you can keep the video”

Eventually you got round to watching some movies.

"I don't even know why we are together what do you mean you have never watched Iron Man! That's a classic" you boyfriend stood in disbelief, hands on hips. "Have you even seen captain america?"

"I've watched guardians of the galaxy" you laugh and he just shakes his head. "We can watch them tomorrow you promised me we can watch twilight tonight"

"Im not watching twilight"

"Fine, ill watch it with harry then" you say picking up your blanket off the sofa and grabbing the bowl of popcorn.

"No don't go baby" he reaches for your hand and pulls you back into his lap. He sits quiet watching the movie, trying to act as though he wasn't enjoying it every time he caught you looking at him. But when he didn't notice you would watch him gasp or get annoyed with Bella. When they finished it was 2am and he turned to you.

“That was a roller coaster”

"Team Edward or Jacob?" You question smiling.

"Edward is that even a question, Edward is-'' he quickly stops himself. "Cool or whatever i don't" he shrugs.

"You loved it!" you laugh

"No" he presses his lips together trying to fight a smile

"You did"

"Okay maybe i did a little"

"Just a little?" You question skeptically.

"Fine, i loved it alot, almost as much as i love you" he admits.

"You love me?" You whisper in shock, you watched the realisation set in at what he had just said.

"Of Course i love you y/n why else would i have eaten all those crappy loafs of bread and learnt those dances?"

"Not all of my bread was bad"

"Around 90% of it was" he smiles and you have to agree, he kisses the back of your hand

"I love you too"

"If you loved me you would watch iron man" he says, looking up at you through his eyelashes, there they were again, those puppy dog eyes.

"It's 2am?"

"So? We have nowhere to be tomorrow" he says already opening up Disney+ i promise you will love it" around half way through the film tom ended up falling asleep, his head on your shoulder, you put the blanket over him, moving his hair back off his forehead and kissing him, cuddling back up to him to finish the movie. Once the movie was done you put the rubbish into the bin and the pots in the sink to soak, you turn off the lights and go back into the living room, tom had since layed down sprawled across the sofa.

“Cuddle with me” he mumbles his voice rough, opening his arms. You squeeze next to him, your chests and noses pressed together. “Hi” he smiles, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hey cutie” you whisper.

“Sorry i fell asleep”

“It's okay, it's exhausting doing nothing all day” you whisper, closing your eyes, trying your hardest to fight falling to sleep. Tom shuffles around, pulling you onto him so you both had more room, your head now on his chest.

“Am i squishing you?” you question, you didn't care if you was, you couldn't be bothered to move.

“No this is nice” he yawns, running his fingers through your hair. “Love you”

“I love you too”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 15: Midnight Manhattan]

A/N: Hi y’all! Thank you so much for your patience and support. I think it’ll be worth it...this chapter has something you’ve been waiting for. Only three more chapters left after this one! 💜

Chapter summary: A family visit turns awkward, Chrissie loses her cool, Roger and Y/N have a difficult conversation, John tells the truth.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies, miscarriage, cute kids, drama, angst, more drama, more angst.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen @anotheronewritesthedust1 @pomjompish @writerxinthedark @culturefiendtrashqueen @allauraleigh@deakydeacy

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

They say losing a child will destroy a marriage, and you’re sure that’s often true; but it didn’t destroy yours.

Roger is the only one who can truly understand—who can feel that same aching and eternal, ravening absence in his bones—because he’s the only one who lost her too. He mourns with you, he stays awake through long nights with you, and when the future seems too oppressively bleak to imagine he drags you back into the light with tired daybreak smiles exchanged over mugs of tea and songs plucked on his acoustic guitar by the roaring fireplace, stories and jokes, walks through the green trellises of Hyde Park and the marble halls of the British Museum filled with ancient treasures stolen from Egypt and India and the Yucatan Peninsula, Italy and Greece, leaving craters of hollow memory littered across the planet like the imprint of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.

Together you bury her ashes in the garden behind the Surrey house. John brings you a pot of white calla lilies, and when the weather warms you plant them beside the small black stone carved with two names you never speak: Joan Aurora. Together you watch the blossoms grow up and grow old and wither back into the earth like everything does when the clock runs out, when the universe claims back the debt of life we borrow thinking that we own it. And through it all Roger is so persistently kind and patient and present that you’re willing to try for another pregnancy, despite the odds stacked against you like moving boxes, despite the crushing heartache that another loss would entail; despite your fearful, growing suspicion that in both casinos and the genetic lottery, the house always wins.

It never happens again, and you reach a sort of peace with this; but it’s a peace that makes you feel small and immaterial, like when you think too much about how vast the universe really is, like when you wake up restless before the dawn and wander out onto the cracked cobblestones in the garden as the sun burns the darkness off the world from east to west, watching the stars as they vanish in a sky bloodied with another world’s light.

A year passes, and then another, and then another; and every February 15th John sends you a new pot of white calla lilies to plant in the garden where other people’s children play.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Look, look, look!” Laszlo frenetically waves a crayon illustration in front of your face. On his head is the hat you knitted for him, green and featuring a large white L and with sprigs of fluffy brown hair like John’s peeking out around the edges. “I can draw like Daddy!”

It’s November 24th, 1981, and Queen is in Montreal. The band is playing two sold-out shows, one tonight and one tomorrow, and Brian and John have flown in their families for one last visit to tide their wives and children over until the touring break at Christmas. Laszlo is six years old now, Anna nearly five, Lena three, Antoni—fast asleep and presumably dreaming of such complexities as Hershey’s chocolate bars and Care Bear plushies—two; and there have been no additional Deacon children, a fact which seems to be the source of some disharmony between John and Veronica. What Laszlo has drawn with his rainbow of Crayolas most closely resembles a very chubby banana, but with black spots like a Dalmatian’s.

“Oh my goodness, you’re a young Picasso!” you exclaim. “It’s amazing! It’s a...it’s a...a...” Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up. “It’s a...giraffe...?”

“Yeah!” Laszlo confirms, grinning.

Oh thank god.

“Very impressive,” John tells you. “I would have guessed pineapple with leprosy.”

“It’s not a leopard, Daddy,” Laszlo says seriously.

“Yes of course, I didn’t say leopard, I said leprosy, which is entirely different—”

“It’s not a leopard!” Laszlo insists.

“You heard the kid, Deaks,” Roger says, winking. “No leopards. Come over here, kiddo, let me see the nice giraffe...oh yes, it is so obviously a giraffe, you can tell by the expertly placed spots...”

“You’re so good with them,” Veronica marvels, perhaps not quite approvingly, noting how Antoni is dozing peacefully against your chest, a red hat stitched with a massive A snug over his jumble of auburn hair. “He never sleeps for anyone. Not even me.”

“Being comfortable to nap on is one of my many talents.”

“It’s true,” Roger notes, smiling, combing through the knots in his brittle bleached hair.

“No, no, no, don’t try to be modest, you’ve always been fantastically good at caring for people. I remember Brian was half dead when you brought him home from that hospital in Boston.” Chrissie is sitting on the floor of the dressing room with Anna and Lena, helping to facilitate a glamorous wedding for Barbie and Ken. Teddy and Evelyn, both four years old and with massive mops of dark ringlets, are scribbling on coloring book pages of screeching dinosaurs and plunging prehistoric comets above tangles of jungle treetops.

“Hmm,” Veronica agrees lukewarmly. “You’ll be a wonderful mother to your own one day.”

You wince, bite your lower lip, peer down at Antoni’s pacific little face. His eyes, when they’re open, are a greyish blue like John’s. Chrissie kicks Veronica’s ankle and glares at her. Brian glances over from where he’s tuning his Red Special, one rangy leg propped up on a chair.

“Not so sure that’s in the cards,” you demur.

“Keep praying, dear,” Veronica offers. “The Lord will provide in his own time.”

You blink at her. She stares pityingly back with infuriating, weepy eyes. Everyone is suddenly very quiet, except for Freddie; he starts humming Another One Bites The Dust and taps his white Adidas sneakers in rhythm.

“What uniquely helpful advice,” you reply.

“Well, surely one doesn’t need biological children to be fulfilled in life,” Roger tells Veronica lightly, like it’s a warning.

She looks thunderstruck, like this is such a novel concept, like Roger just shared with her the secret to time travel or immortal life. “Perhaps not, but you know...it’s so terribly important for most women.”

“How feminist,” Chrissie quips, lighting a cigarette, flicking the ashes away irritably.

John leans into Veronica. “Stop it,” you can just barely hear him say.

“It’s interesting you would bring up timing, Veronica,” you observe. “We were all so discrete about yours.”

Freddie snorts, tries to pretend it was a sneeze, smooths his moustache as he studies himself in the mirror.

“I’m just trying to help, love,” Veronica claims innocently. “All this can’t be good for you, this ceaseless globetrotting. Almost never waking up in the same place twice. The stress of it!”

“What do you want her to do?” Roger snaps. “Sit at home nine or ten months out of the year and, what, scrub the windows until I come back? Take up watercolor painting? Knit the world’s largest quilt?”

“I’m just saying that less physical and emotional strain might help with the situation.”

“Because you’re a freaking doctor, right?” Roger flares. Chrissie kicks Veronica again.

“People should spend more time close to home,” she continues, undaunted. “There’s nothing more important than family. Look at me, I should have another on the way by now, but the band’s schedule is simply murderous...”

“Trying for a football team?” you inquire. And in the same moment you realize: This isn’t about me at all. This is about her and John.

Freddie is still humming, modelling his Superman tank top and tight white jeans in the mirror, cinching and re-cinching his belt, sliding a red sweatband unto one wrist. The kids—all except the unconscious Antoni—are giggling and pushing each other around on the slippery linoleum floor, seemingly oblivious. John whispers something to Veronica, his face dark and furious.

“John should be home more,” she bursts out. “For me, for the children—”

Roger scoffs and rolls his eyes. “For christ’s sake, lady, he’s not your bloody lapdog!”

“You don’t really need him,” she protests, almost pleads. “He’s just the bassist, he thought this would be a hobby to fill his time on weekends when he was in school, he didn’t sign up to live this way and Queen could find another bassist and you don’t need him—”

“We do need him! He’s not just some bassist! He’s a genius and he’s irreplaceable and there’s absolutely no Queen without him, we swore to it, I’d leave if he ever did!”

“You did what?!” Brian exclaims. Freddie hums louder, stomping his sneakers to the beat, mock-boxing with his reflection in the mirror. John raises his eyebrows at Roger as if he had assumed Rog wouldn’t remember that, assumed he had never really meant it. Roger, flushed, fumbles with his lighter and finally lights a cigarette on his third attempt.

Antoni stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and Chrissie swoops in to take her turn holding him. She bounces him on her hip as she sashays around the dressing room, casting fierce scowls alternately at Veronica and John and Roger.

“You don’t understand,” Veronica hurls at Roger, lashing out like a cornered animal, her voice raw and splintering. “You’ve never sacrificed anything. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of just falls into your lap. No heartache. No consequences. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the people who get burned.”

“You don’t know anything about me—!”

“Look, I get it,” you tell Veronica. “You want John to yourself. Anyone would. You want a normal life. But that’s the tradeoff when you love someone brilliant, isn’t it? You have to learn how to share them with the world. Because the world is so much better off with them in it.”

Veronica glowers, venomous and spiteful. She’s wearing makeup tonight, quite heavy makeup; she’s started doing that with increasing frequency. “I have no intention of sharing a husband the way you’ve had to.”

Roger stands, stalks to Veronica, towers over her, blows smoke into her stunned face. “Ma’am,” he says quietly, so the children won’t hear. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, darlings!” Freddie flits over, pulls Roger away, fluffs his hair and straightens his black smock-like shirt as Roger glares around Fred’s shoulder at Veronica. “Fabulous. You look like a ten-year-old about to make a papier-mâché vase for his mum in art class. I adore it. Off you go.” He pushes open the door to the hallway and shoves Roger through it.

Roger nods for you to follow him, and you do.

John frowns as you pass him. I’m so sorry, that expression says.

You shake your head in reply. Not your fault.

Roger slips his arm around your waist as you disappear into the hallway with him.

“That fucking miserable, judgmental, delusional, dogmatic bitch—”

“Shhhhh.” You cup his feverish cheek with your left hand, weighty with the ruby ring he gave you four years ago in New Orleans, and yank the white bandana out of his back pocket with your right. Then you knot it around his neck, smiling. “There. Now you look a little more rock and roll.”

“You’re not mad?” he asks in disbelief. “How are you not mad?”

“She’s clearly very unhappy. I feel sorry for her.” You tug on the bandana gently, fondly. You can hear Chrissie chastising Veronica behind the closed door of the dressing room. “Don’t let it ruin your show.”

“No, I would never.” But his eyes are still distant, unsettled, anxious in a way that is rare for him. “You are a freakishly good person, you know that?”

“I try. Don’t forget to smile so I can get some good pictures.”

“Oh, I’ll smile plenty. Just like this.” A grin splits through his face, and the Roger you know and love is back: bright, triumphant, flashing the daggerish points of his canine teeth. Then he draws you into him and kisses you, his rough hands in your hair, his lips smiling against yours. “Love of my life,” he whispers, rather pensively.

He shakes out his right arm—the one with the jagged scar along the soft vulnerable underside, the one he broke in a stairwell in Yokohama in the spring of 1975—and stretches the hand a few times. And you find yourself wondering, as you always do when he seems distracted like he does now, before he starts staying out late into the night, before he starts coming home drunk or high or not at all: Is he getting bad again? Is he?

I would never have to worry about that if I had married someone like John.

You fling that thought, that inconvenient and perpetual thought, back into the shadows where it came from; like a pebble tossed into the misted tree line of a forest, like a shell pitched into the sea.

“Rog, are you—?”

“I’m fine,” he cuts you off like a blade.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s someone screaming out in the hallway.

You reel out of bed in the darkness, step into your slippers, yank on your fuzzy white robe. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 4:11 a.m. Roger and Brian had stayed for one more round of drinks at the club when you and Chrissie left to go back to the hotel, Chrissie to relieve her nanny from kid duty, you to quiet a budding headache. You note—with a vague, drowsy sort of dread—that Roger is not in the bed beside you, his hair a disheveled blond mess peeking from beneath the covers, snoring softly, his calloused hands outstretched towards yours. Beyond the door there are earsplitting clashes of broken glass, thumps and pounding footsteps, people shouting. And now you can recognize Chrissie’s voice, shrieking and wrathful: “Now you’ve done it, now you’ve really done it, you’re going to fucking kill her!”

You throw open the door to see Roger crouched against the hallway wall, covering his head with his hands; he is surrounded by shards of glass, tiny hotel shampoo and mouthwash bottles, Bibles ripped from nightstand drawers. He’s dripping with what smells like a combination of every kind of alcohol you’ve ever tasted, and maybe some you haven’t as well.

“I wish she’d never fucking met you!” Chrissie screams, launching a bottle of Grey Goose from the minibar in her room at Roger. It explodes against the wall just above his head, and glass and vodka rain down on him. Brian is unsuccessfully attempting to coax Chrissie back into their room as she ignores him. “I wish she’d never stepped off that fucking plane because the day she agreed to come to London with you was the worst day of her life!”

“Will you stop?!” Roger yells. “Jesus christ, Chris!”

“She saved you,” Chrissie hisses, landing an elbow into Brian’s gut and sending him flying backwards. “She saved your life and this is how you repay her, you disgusting degenerate bastard!”

A bottle of Captain Morgan hits the wall and detonates two inches from Roger’s face.

“What’s going on?!” you shout at Chrissie, your arms crossed over your chest.

A few rooms down the hallway, a door opens and Freddie wanders out in a pink kimono. After a moment, John and Veronica appear from their own room in their pajamas, rubbing bleary eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep so I phoned my mum and guess what’s on the cover of the News Of The World this week.” Chrissie points at Roger. “Go on. Tell her. Tell her what you did.”

He knows; he doesn’t say anything, but he knows. You can see that he does. It’s lurking in the shallow cerulean pools of his glistening eyes like a shadow, like a ghost.

“What did you do?” John asks him, mystified.

Roger doesn’t answer. He’s looking at you, at Chrissie, back to you. It isn’t often that Roger is fearful, acutely and bone-rattlingly afraid; but he is now.

“Fine, you don’t want to own up to it? I’ll do it. I’ll tell her, you coward.” Chrissie spins to you. “Dominique Beyrand is seven months pregnant.”

I’m surrounded by goddamn mothers. “Okay. Good for her.”

Chrissie waits for it to hit you. And then it does.

Oh. Oh.

“Bleeding christ,” you hear Freddie sigh, rubbing his forehead. Veronica covers her gaping mouth with one pale hand, and she doesn’t look smug or vindicated or condemnatory; she looks terrified. John is watching you, you can see him on the periphery of your vision; you are dimly aware of him edging closer as you gaze at Roger, your eyes wide and blurring with tears, your throat burning.

You can’t understand it, can’t imagine it, and then suddenly you can: his fingers threading through her glossy black hair, his lips skating over her neck, promises whispered through nightscape phone calls, haphazard lies whispered to you; reckless, small-boned, doe-eyed children with Dom’s olive skin and Roger’s sharp little canine teeth.

This is the part where I wake up. This is the part where it turns out to be just a hellacious dream.

But you don’t wake up, because this is real.

“Oh,” you exhale, brainlessly, helplessly.

Roger doesn’t sputter some desperate apology, he doesn’t beg you to forgive him. He stares at you with huge, starry blue eyes, booze dripping from his hair, surrender etched into the concave slump of his back and shoulders.

You ask him, already knowing the answer: “It’s not just a fling, is it?”

“No,” he replies miserably. “I thought it was, but it isn’t.”

You nod, those first hot tears spilling down your cheeks. “Okay,” you concede, your words brittle and fracturing. “I’ll file as soon as we get back to London.” File for divorce. File this entire misadventure away in my mind as a horrific and juvenile mistake. Shred the good memories into oblivion so I can’t remember how alive he once made me feel.

That seems to bother Roger, jolts him into urgency. The white bandana is still tied around his neck. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Are you fucking joking?” you pitch at him. “Are you not done humiliating me yet? Am I not ruined enough? Do I somehow still look remotely whole to you?”

John’s hand closes around your wrist. “Don’t,” he tells you gently.

Roger begins: “I never wanted to hurt—”

“But you did,” you seethe, tears slithering down your face. It’s sinking in now, it’s becoming real, it’s materializing from years of gnawing distrust into fact. They were all right about him. They were always right. John’s arms circle you, holding you back as you struggle against him. “You fucking did and I forgave you like an idiot just so you could prove to me over and over and over again how exceptionally little you cared.”

“That’s not true—!”

“You’ve done enough!” Chrissie roars at him. Brian wrestles a bottle of Don Julio out of her grasp. “You deplorable slut, can’t you see that you’ve done enough?!”

Freddie approaches Roger, dusts the glinting flecks of glass out of his hair, wrenches him staggering to his feet.

“Come on,” John murmurs, towing you towards your room. Veronica is tracking him with blazing eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go ahead, Roger!” you shout as John drags you away, as Roger is corralled into Freddie’s room. “Get clean for her, get clean for her children, tell her she’s the love of your life and marry her and give her a ring but don’t forget to remind her that none of it means a single fucking thing—!”

John stumbles with you into your hotel room. He slams the door behind him, and the world goes deathly quiet. You reel aimlessly, collapse onto the edge of the bed, dazed, staring at the bland landscape paintings on the wall, ticking down the mental list of things you’ll need to get from the Surrey house: photographs, paperwork, John’s sketches, the conch shell from Ostia.

What about the calla lilies? What about her grave?

And there’s another list as well, whether you want there to be or not; a list of things you’ll never feel again.

His teeth grazing my knuckles, his palms cradling my face, his raspy voice as he writes songs on quiet nights, the way he loved our daughter, the way he sets souls alight like wildfire.

John just stands in the middle of the hotel room, heaving in ragged breaths, his hands on his waist. And for a long time, neither of you speak at all.

“Do you want me to stay?” John says finally.

“You can’t,” you reply, thinking of Veronica and the children.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No. I’m fine. I want to be alone.”

He comes to you, lifts your chin with one careful hand, touches his forehead to yours before he leaves. “You are never going to be alone.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the key clatter in the lock, and your hotel room door creaks open. You’re laying on the floor after Queen’s second show in Montreal, staring blankly up at the ceiling, counting the black dots in the tiles like stars, imagining constellations of monsters and heroes and doomed love.

John appears above you, his brow furrowed. He shuttled all of Roger’s things to Freddie’s room after you packed them up this morning, then he took Roger’s key. “What are you doing?”

“Fantasizing about my own death.”

He checks his watch. “Will you be done in twelve minutes?”

“What happens in twelve minutes?”

“We have to leave for the afterparty on a yacht.”

You groan, sitting upright, rubbing your sore and sleepless eyes with the heels of your hands. “I can’t do it, John. I don’t have it in me tonight. I can’t mingle with all of those obnoxious music industry people. ‘Yes, hi, hello, yes it’s true, I am the sad barren soon-to-be-ex-wife, oh what a charming nineteen-year-old model mistress you have on your arm there, I too was once young and desirable and disastrously stupid.’”

He smiles. “You’re still somewhat desirable.”

“Thanks.” You reach up, take his hands, let him help you to your feet.

“You realize if you don’t go I’m going to have to hide in the corner and compulsively eat miniature quiches all by myself.”

“Your enchanting wife isn’t attending?”

“She wanted to stay with the children. Also, she hates me.”

You chuckle. “She doesn’t hate you. She passionately does not hate you, which is the problem.”

“So you’ll come with me.”

You mull this over. “Can I get so drunk I forget I exist?”

“Sure. If you promise to stay near me and away from the water.”

“Yes, I suppose that you, as a convicted felon, would be high on the list of suspects if I was to go overboard.”

“Losing you would be the worst thing that ever happened to me. Who would I call to post my bail?”

You laugh as you beam up at him, knot your fingertips through his hair, see your silhouette reflected in his greyish eyes that today remind you of storm clouds, of torrential autumn rain, of thunder. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go to your torturous yacht party.”

“Aww, what a tragedy, being forced to enjoy all the trappings of stardom” John teases, and then you can see the regret wrinkle across his face; because people don’t joke about things like tragedies around you anymore.

“It’s a hard life,” you agree. “But it feels a little easier when you’re around.”

You slip into a dark blue dress and heels and your bomber jacket that doesn’t match at all. John meets you in the hallway in a black suit. You share a limo with Brian and Chrissie, who chatter nervously about anything they can think of that doesn’t involve Roger or marriage or children or love. Bri points out constellations through the open moonroof as frigid Canadian air pours in and rattles your dangling diamond earrings, whips through your hair. John smooths the runaway strands, rests his arm across the back of your seat, smiles in a tranquil sort of way and actually appears to pay attention as Brian narrates the stories of the stars and their celestial families: Pegasus, Aquarius, Pisces, tiny Triangulum, the lightning strike zigzag of Lacerta, Perseus.

“You look gorgeous,” Chrissie tells you, and she seems to mean it.

“Thank you,” you reply politely. “If only I was also French and fertile.”

The yacht is docked on the bank of the Saint Lawrence River, an island of roaring laughter and music and twinkling strands of lights in an ocean of night. John leads you onboard, waves at the photographers who douse you in flashbulb luminescence, stands with you by the railing at the stern of the vessel as it pulls out into the river. Periodically some palpably accomplished stranger will appear, shake John’s hand, start asking him about You’re My Best Friend or Another One Bites The Dust or Under Pressure; but mostly the two of you are left alone. You drain flute after flute of pink champagne as John nurses his Manhattans, debating the merits of the various appetizers; you—ever the proud Bostonian—are partial to the bite-sized lobster rolls, while John prefers the Swedish meatballs speared on puzzlingly tropical toothpick umbrellas.

Roger is on the yacht too of course, and every once in a while you catch a glimpse of his blond hair or his blush-colored polka dot suit, hear his voice carried on the cold November wind; and you ignore this as much as you can. Twice he starts migrating towards you, and you and John pretend not to notice, dart through the crowds to the other side of the boat, your hand clasped in John’s as he weaves relatively anonymously through ballgowns and suits and reporters’ microphones. And he peeks back at you, grinning, and says: “I bet you’re thrilled no one knows who I am tonight.”

Chrissie steals you away briefly to keep her company when Brian gets snared into an excruciatingly dull interview about Queen’s next album; and when Brian comes to collect her, John greets you with a fresh glass of champagne in one hand and his fourth Manhattan in the other.

“You better make sure you don’t go overboard, Mr. Deacon,” you say, taking the champagne flute and resting your forearms on the yacht’s railing as waves break against the hull. Freshwater mist peppers your cheeks, your collarbones, the backs of your hands. Through the speakers pluck the opening notes of Hotel California. “Oh god. This song.”

“Fond memories?” John asks with a smirk. “That whole night is a blur to me.”

“It makes me think of sharks for some reason. And the Olympics.”

“It makes me feel...” He considers this. “Overwhelmed with self-loathing.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the least loathable person I’ve ever met.” You sip your champagne, gaze out into the moonlit currents that run from the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean, to the shores of every place you’ve ever called your own. “How long did Dante live in exile from Florence?”

“Twenty years.”

You whistle. “That’s a long time to be away from home.” The fingers of your left hand clutch the railing, which is gold and sturdy and stingingly cold. “I feel a little like him sometimes. Except as you get older, home starts to feel less like places and more like people.” You twist off your ruby ring, glance down at it fleetingly, and toss it out into the glistening black waters of the Saint Lawrence River.

John looks over at you. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”

You nod slowly, mournfully. “Yeah. It’s really over.”

“And how are we feeling about that?”

“Relieved. Petrified. Exhausted. Mostly I’m just sad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “For everything.”

“Why? None of it was your fault.” You sigh, shake your head, peer out into the river, into the night sky, into the stars. “Maybe this is a good thing, you know? A blessing in disguise or whatever. I can move on knowing I did everything I could to salvage the marriage. I can be free. No more waiting up at night for someone who isn’t coming home. No more searching through pockets and suitcases for white powder or used needles. No more News Of The World headlines.”

John is still staring at you.

“What?” you ask, smiling warily.

He downs the rest of his Manhattan, twirls the glass as the ice cubes clink against each other. Finally, he says: “I could have given you a very different kind of life.”

Your lips, slick with gloss and tingling with sharp carbonation from the champagne, part to ask John what he means; but then you know. Your voice is a quivering, astonished whisper. “It was about me. You’re My Best Friend.”

“Yeah, it was. And most of the others were too.”

It was about me. All those years ago, that song was about me. And it still is.

“John...”

“I watched you fall in love with Roger, watched him fall in love with you. Watched this agonizing fucking dance that you do...he can’t give you what you want, you can’t be happy with less...and I just kept waiting to wake up one day and not want you anymore. And it never happened.” He laughs, briefly, bitterly. “I mean, for christ’s sake, I refused to propose to the mother of my child until I was sure you’d stay with Roger because I thought...I thought...you know, maybe. Maybe one day you’d change your mind. And I wanted to be there if you did.”

You gaze at him, soaking him in, unambiguously aware that there is no part of you that is afraid, no part of you that is shuddering or surrendering or apprehensive; there is no instinctive chorus begging you not to fall in love with him. There’s no sensation of falling at all. It feels like you’re somewhere you’ve never left.

“I know that next to someone like Roger Taylor I don’t look like much,” John confesses. “That I don’t feel like much. That I don’t light anything up the way he does. And if you can’t imagine a future with someone who isn’t him, someone who isn’t like him...then I completely accept that. But you’re always going to feel like home to me.”

You’re My Best Friend. You And I. Spread Your Wings. In Only Seven Days. Need Your Loving Tonight.

They were all about me. They were always about me.

“John...”

You don’t know what to say. You know exactly what to say.

From the crowd, a man dressed in a blue pinstripe suit and holding a Cuban cigar bellows for John. He whirls, offers a shy wave, trots over to say hello. But as they discuss concerts and albums and tours, John’s eyes meet yours through the sea of strangers and cigarette smoke, through the shifting shadows cast by flickering incandescence and moonshine.

And you watch him as the constellations and all their stars rage above, the same stars that in the time of Dante sailors read to point them home.

112 notes · View notes

come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//just criss-cross things. bokuto koutarou//

Request: Because of you- Im getting hella forced to rank Bo higher up in my list so can I ask for any fluff of him too?- all writing reign is up to you bby- asdfghjkl

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: i hate that i wrote an almost 2K word fic about BRAIDING HIS HAIR

There was a routine in the Bokuto household. The alarm went off promptly at 8:30 every morning and was snoozed with a tired groan until at least 8:45. Your boyfriend would roll over, slowly opening his eyes to give you a sleep smile. He’d plant his lips to yours, his upper half hovering slightly over your body, letting you run his fingers through his bedhead, knowing just how much you loved it when it sat softly against his forehead rather than styled into its normal spikes. He would whisper a gentle, “Good morning,” voice still heavy from sleep, nuzzling his nose with yours. Those five minutes of soft morning affection were always his favorite part of the day.

But, he’d roll out of bed, remembering what time it was and that he only had an hour before he needed to get going. You would go make a pot of morning tea while he was in the bathroom, showering and going through his regular morning routine. It was rare when things were thrown out of balance, but no matter what, it always felt like your little world was crashing down around you. Sure, it sounded dramatic, but mornings tended to be rushed already. There was little room for error in the tightly knit schedule.

But when you heard Bokuto’s heavy groan of frustration bubbling from his chest as you were pouring the steaming tea into two mugs, you weren’t sure what was wrong, but you knew that it couldn’t be good. You were already on your way to the bathroom to see what happened when he called out a loud, “Babe!”

Pushing the door open, you didn’t know what you were expecting. But, Bokuto with half of his hair spiked up? That was not it. He just turned to look at you, puppy eyes filled with sadness. “I’m out of hair gel,” he mutters, lips contorting into a pout as he shows you his empty container.

“I thought you went and got some yesterday, Kou?”

He see him shift awkwardly in his place, hand going to rub the back of his neck. “Well, you see, I was going to but then, you know that pet shop on the way to the store?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you-”

“I wanted to play with bunnies and then, I just forgot!” He whines, voice filled with exasperation, throwing his hands up in frustration with his one-track mind. “But, now what am I supposed to do? I can’t go out like this,” he points to his hair disaster, “and if I leave it down, it gets in my eyes and I won’t be able to concentrate on practice, because I keep having to push it back!”

You place a hand on his back and push him towards the shower. “Why don’t you wash the gel out and we’ll see what we can do, okay?”

“But, I already showered! I don’t have time for another!”

“It’s just your hair, baby. It’ll take you five minutes.”

Your boyfriend nods, not having any other solution to his current predicament. And you were right, in a matter of minutes, he was out of the shower, hair plastered down against his forehead as if it had never been gelled in the first place. Back in his clothes for practice, he sat up on the counter, furiously rubbing a towel against his hair while you rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find anything that could keep his hair out of his face. You could use hair spray, but it probably wouldn’t be a strong enough hold. You had a thin elastic headband, but as much as he moved around, it would just fall off his head more than it would stay. Bobby pins? No, Bokuto would probably fidget with them like he always did when they were in your hair.

It’s while he’s watching you contemplate a solution that he has one of the best ideas he’s ever had. He tugs on a strand of your hair to get your attention. “You know that criss-cross thing you do?”

“Criss-cross thing? What are you talking about, Kou?” You ask, looking up at him.

“You know, the thing with your hair. The criss-cross thing!” He shouts, hopping down from the counter in excitement, rummaging through a drawer. He knew that you kept them in here somewhere . . .

Bokuto is beaming as bright as the early morning sun as he holds up your little container of elastics. “You can do that to my hair!”

Your mouth opens in a little “Oh” as you finally figure out what the hell he was babbling about. “You want me to braid your hair?”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t know, baby,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, examining it’s length. It was longer than it usually was, sure, but it was still pretty short. But, Bokuto was looking at you with expectant golden eyes, a look that he knew you could never refuse. “I’ll try my best.”

He gives a hoot of excitement, wrapping his strong arms around you. “You’re the best! Okay, so what do I do!?” The man is practically bouncing as he stares down at you, ready to do whatever he must to let this to be executed as well as possible.

“I just need you to sit,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder to try to get him to sit, but he refuses to budge.

“Wait. Can I make a bowl of cereal first?”

You can’t suppress your little giggles and just nod your head. “Yeah. Go get yourself some breakfast, baby.”

You don’t even have to say another word before he’s bounding towards the kitchen. In a matter of seconds, he’s sitting on the floor of the living room in front of you, a bowl of Lucky Charms in his hands. He had the television on, reruns of your favorite sitcom playing on the screen. You would’ve taken a picture of him right then and there if you weren’t pressed for time.

You part his hair down the center where he normally separates his spikes. You take three sections from the front, pausing before you start the ‘criss-cross thing.’ “Kou, if I pull your hair too much or it feels too tight, just let me know, okay?”

He just turns his head so he can smile up at you. “Oh, come on, babe! The criss-cross thing can’t be that bad! I’m a tough guy. I’ll be fine.”

And he was, but you on the other hand? You were not. Your fingers were cramping from tightly holding his hair before you were even done with the first braid. It was way harder than you had initially thought. The short strands of grey hair kept slipping from between your fingers, frustrating you further.

But, Bokuto didn’t notice in the slightest. He was so lost in the gentle tugs of his hair and the feeling of your fingernails gently raking his scalp as you collected another section. You should’ve seen his content grin, happily munching on his cereal, wiggling happily in his spot, cute little hoots and hums escaping him every few moments. He looked like a happy toddler, watching Saturday morning cartoons.

He’s shaken from his bliss by a firm hand on his shoulder, “Baby, I need you to sit still,” you say, tying off the end of the first braid. It only spanned down to the crown of his head and the hairs at the nape of his neck were left out, but the braid accomplished what it needed to.

Bokuto takes your words into accounts and stops moving. You can hear him give a little “Hmph” as he settles down, sitting firmly into his spot to finish off his cereal while you get to work on the remaining section of hair.

Fingers near exhaustion and hand muscles tensing with each passing criss-cross motion, you manage to pull your boyfriend’s hair into two little braids. “Kou, can you turn to look at me?” you ask, wrapping the last elastic around his hair.

He twists in his spot so he can stare cutely up at you. He looked absolutely adorable, two dutch braids running down his head, the tiny fluffs of remaining hair sitting cutely at his neck. There’s a soft hum of approval as you tug some of his baby hairs down to frame his face. “What do you think, baby? Will it hold for practice?” You ask, stepping back and taking your phone out. There was no way that you were letting this moment go undocumented.

You snap a quick photo before Bokuto gets up, shaking his head vigorously, jumping around all to see if the braids will break their hold. When he’s convinced that they're not going anywhere, he hovers over your shoulder, staring down at your phone screen. “Aw, come on, babe! I look terrible in that! Delete it!” He whines, making a grab for your phone.

You pull your phone closer to your body in an attempt to shield it from him. “What are you talking about? You look very cute, baby,” you say, looking up at him with sweet eyes.

“Can we at least take a better one before I go?”

You can’t even give an answer before he’s snatching your phone, the front-facing camera pointed towards the two of you. Your boyfriend slings his arm around your shoulders tugging you closer to his body as you both give goofy smiles for the camera. He places a soft kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours as he pulls back. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re the best, baby girl,” he whispers, pecking your lips one more time.

You’re completely prepared for him to hand you back your phone and get his things to leave, but rather, he holds your phone out of your reach, tapping away at the screen. “Kou, what are you doing?”

“Sending them to myself. I have to post my pretty girl to Instagram later,” he claims, beaming down at you as he hands you your phone. He presses another kiss to your lips before heading to the front door to slip on a pair of sneakers and grab his practice bag. “I’ll see you later!”

You say your good-byes, checking your phone as it vibrates. There’s a smile that takes over your face as you see your new lock screen. Bo’s smiling face is filling the screen, slightly obscured by:

1 New Message: Kou :)

I have the other half ;P

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #x reader #imagines #one shot #bokuto #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto x reader #koutarou #he fucking hoots #tell me otherwise #oh wait #you can't #god he's so baby

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cottage-babe · 4 years

Text

Burning Scars part VI

Previous | Chapter 6 | Next

Masterlist

This one is extremelyyyyy short and im so sorry guys; school is starting up again and i have to catch up from what i missed last year!!

hopefully i can keep up with my schedule of thursday updates, but i might change it to sundays so i can work on it during weekends. either way thank you for reading this <3

Summary: Y/n, a werewolf from a hidden village, comes across Zuko and Iroh after being exiled. How has fate intertwined the wolf into the avatar’s destiny?

***** this chapter takes place on Season 2 Episode 11*****

___

“What’s going on? Is the club meeting over?”

Y/n awoke to the always-defensive voice of Zuko the next morning.

She quickly decided, while her mind was still muddled with sleep, that the boy’s voice had waken her up far too many times and far too early in the morning. Just for one day, she wanted to be able to sleep-in like she did with her pack.

The girl cracked her eyes open and found that her chin still rested on her chest. Her eyes slid up to analyze the commotion that ruined her sleep; Zuko stood in a defensive stance toward... an empty space. Of course, he was being dramatic for nothing.

Iroh and Fung were standing by the teen boy, seeming as if they had just left the room the Y/n and Zuko weren’t allowed in. The girl rubbed her eyes roughly to remove any sleep from her face and clumsily stood; almost tripping over her own feet. As she gained her composure, Iroh addressed the two teens.

“Everything is taken care of,” the Uncle smiled, “We are heading to Ba Sing Se.”

Oh? Another town?

Y/n felt as though she really needed to study a map soon. She was never taught the names of any human places and after the disappointment she experienced with the ‘Misty’ Palms Oasis, she decided that the best thing for her would be to learn. There can’t be that many places, right?

On the note of traveling, the werewolf also realized that while the boys had let her tag along on their trip, she didn’t really know what the purpose of it all was. She had agreed recklessly instead of asking the simple question, so, where you guys headed? To be fair, it didn’t seem like Zuko and Iroh knew where they were going until now, but it was kind of stupid of her to just join so quickly.

She couldn’t say that she regretted all this, though.

Iroh and Fung bowed to each other; a silent way of thanks for all they had done for the other. Zuko lowered his arms and calmed down. He looked at Y/n, but quickly looked back at his Uncle when he saw that she was already looking at him; the thoughts of the previous night still apparent in their minds.

“Ba Sing Se? Why would we go to the Earth Kingdom capital?” Zuko questioned. It was surprising that sleep was completely evaded from his voice, a clear contrast to what the girl guessed her voice would sound.

Fung turned toward Zuko. “The city is filled with refugees. No one will notice three more.”

So that’s what she was now, huh? A refugee, a fugitive; she keeps being called all of these things that didn’t apply to her. She’s done nothing wrong, yet there were men searching towns for her (Of course, she’s aware that most of this came with befriending Zuko and Iroh, but it still made her nervous when she thought about it.). Who knew her life could turn so..... exciting?

“We can hide in plain sight there,” Iroh continued off of his friend’s words. “And it's the safest place in the world from the Fire Nation; even I couldn't break through to the city.”

The Uncle had a pleased smile on his face; an odd thing to see after he confessed his defeat. It’s so surprising to Y/n that a man this nice and heartwarming used to be a war General.

Suddenly, a light bell sounded out. They all looked toward the place it came from and found their eyes pointed toward the front door. A young man had opened it before closing it gently. He had three sheets of papers in his hold.

It had taken her a minute, but Y/n realized that it was the same man who had interrupted her and Zuko’s... moment? Is that what she should call it? Her eyes drifted to the boy of the topic and met his auburn iris’s. Simultaneously, their eyes shot the ground and blushes spiked their cheeks.

It’s gonna take a while to get past this, huh?

“I have the passports for our guests,” the young man by the door began, “but there’s two men out on the streets looking for them.”

Y/n’s curiosity got the better of her and she walked to the door; sliding open a small window in the upper part to peek through. She stood on her tippy toes to let her eyes pass over the slot. Her gaze met the two men from the tavern, the old one and the long-haired one, holding a paper and asking random citizens if they had seen the people on the sheet. The werewolf assumed that her and her travel buddies adorned it.

“Yeah, it’s the same guys from the tavern.” Y/n said before sliding the slot shut. “They’re right there, so there’s no way we can get past them.”

“Great,” Zuko sighed and raised his hands up in defeat, “What do we do now?”

Fung and the passport-man shared a look; seemingly speaking to one another telepathically. Before long, Fung broke their stare and addressed Iroh.

“I think we might have something that can help.”

___

This is not what I had in mind.

The idea that the florist had was promising at first; he would hide them in large vases and bring them over to the edge of town. It was an easy, simple, and foolproof plan.

However, looking at the situation now, this was definitely not ideal.

After Fung’s declaration, him and the young man by the door went around the flower shop in search of the pots. It seemed like a difficult task, as most were filled with flowers, plants, etc, but soon they came back to the trio with their escape plans in tow.

But... they only came back with two.

To be fair, they were rather big; she knew that if she went in one, there would be a lot of extra room. But, once again, there were only two.

Y/n stood on a chair in front of the vase and opened the lid to take a peek. There were small bits of sand that lined the bottom, but other than that, it was relatively clean. She nodded her head and climbed back down to the floor.

“Well, I think it’s best that we get you out as quick as we can.” Fung stated as he gestured toward the vases.

“Wait, that’s it?” Zuko asked. “But there’s three of us.”

The passport-man from earlier shrugged his shoulders, “It’s the best we can do; plus, I’m sure you and the girl can fit together.”

The blush that seems to appear a lot more nowadays found its way back to Y/n’s cheeks. She and Zuko really weren’t going to catch a break, huh? Really, all she needed right now was some alone time or some silence to think. The last thing she wanted was to constantly be around the boy that was stressing her, much less be stuffed in a vase with him.

It seemed at this point, though, Zuko taught himself how to not let the red push itself onto his face. That’s a skill that Y/n really needed to teach herself.

Or he just doesn’t care about the ‘moment’ as much as you do.

This thought shouldn’t hurt Y/n as much as it does. But it also should surprise her as much. He’s a human boy, a prince no less. Zuko’s probably had times like they did with a dozen other people, so it’s most likely nothing to him. She was nothing to him.

“Uh,” Y/n butt into the conversation before the teen boy could argue anymore. “I really don’t mind it. We need to get out of here fast, anyways. As long as you don’t mind, Zuko.”

She looked down at the ground; not wanting to meet the eyes of her traveling friends. She was afraid that if she did, Iroh might see the distraught in them and ask what’s wrong. The last thing she wanted was for someone to think that she was hurt.

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment. All the while, Y/n was trying to conceive a plan on how she could escape; perhaps all on her own? I mean, there’s no way I’m on a wanted poster right? They probably just know that there’s a girl with them, not what she looks like.

Then, surprisingly, the boy spoke again.

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t mind.”

Y/n didn’t really have time to react, to look at him with surprise and stand there shocked, before Fung and the passport-man began to usher the trio into their respective vases after placing them on a wooden cart. While Iroh’s friend aided in stuffing him in the pot, Zuko offered Y/n a hand so she could jump into the vase easily; well, as easily as falling could be. She hadn’t expected the sand at the bottom to be so slippery, so she had to grip onto the boy’s hand tightly. Y/n still didn’t let go when she had to squeeze herself to the sides; trying to help Zuko on his way inside, but not helping much.

Unfortunately, Zuko had entered the pot facing her direction, most likely by accident. This meant that when they had found themselves squeezed together, their faces so close that Y/n could feel his breath fanning her forehead. Before things could get awkward, the werewolf tried to find a way to turn her body, but ultimately found that the area was so tight that neither teens could move. Soon, the men on the outside closed their vase with something heavy, enclosing them in a dark space.

“Do you think you could let go of my hand?” Zuko whispered after the girl stopped her struggling.

Y/n quickly dropped her grip like it was burning. She wanted to say something witty or mean or anything just to make herself seem less embarrassed, but she didn’t get the chance as the cart jolted to a start and Y/n flew forward. She stuck her hands out instinctively to stop her from falling (as if she could even shift in the vase) and found her palms pressed against Zuko’s chest with her head above his shoulder.

“Sorry,” She said as she started to push away; only to land right back in the same spot as the moving cart hit a bump.

The boy gripped her arms and began to speak, probably to push her away and tell her off, but a knocking sounded against the outside of the vase. The teens froze in each other’s arms.

Were we being too loud?

Of course, Y/n had assumed that their whispering couldn’t be heard from the outside, but she was probably wrong. She had to remind herself from now on that they were pretending to be a pot; and pot’s shouldn’t be talking.

The wolf could hear people speaking around their disguise, but she wasn’t sure if they were friendly or not. She desperately hoped they weren’t the two bounty-hunters.

She gently lifted herself off of the (maybe?) angry teen and tried to straighten her back as much as she could. The voices around them faded away after a few minutes and the path felt smoother, they most likely left the Oasis already and entered the sandy dunes outside the village. The wolf couldn’t hear any bustling around them, so it further confirmed her suspicions. She was about to inform Zuko of her idea, but he had already begun to move before she could even utter a word.

The boy attempted to stand up to peak out the top, but the unevenness of the ride caused him to buck his knees to keep balance.

Of course, one of his legs gave out and rammed straight into her chest.

The girl saw it coming, she really did. Y/n knew that his actions were unsafe, but she hardly had any time to say anything on his rash decisions.

She was forced back against the wall of the vase harshly. The pot itself, being narrow at the bottom and wider in the middle, reacted strongly to the force of the push. It toppled over, bringing the two teens inside tumbling with it. They honestly could have acted it off as a pot of flowers falling over ‘accidentally’ if the force of it didn’t crash the vase into the side of the cart. And if it didn’t completely smash the vase into pieces, revealing two teens that are most definitely Wanted. But of course, the worst thing just had to have happened.

Zuko and Y/n landed onto the sandy floor with a yelp. The bright sun greeted the teens as the cover that they used previously laid in shards around them. The flowers from the lid splayed around them; everything just reeking mischief and disaster. The boy was spread out halfway on top of the werewolf, groaning out in pain.

What was he acting hurt for?

Angrily, Y/n pushed the boy off of her and cast quick glances to survey the area. She was right on her assumptions from before, the Oasis was a long walk away and they were surrounded by soft, burning sand rather than buildings. Iroh was still in his vase peeking out to see what the commotion was and the random White Lotus member that pulled their cart stared with his eyes wide. Her glare snapped back to the boy that caused this whole situation.

“You stupid idiot!” Y/n yelled as she stood up. “Do you know what could’ve happened if someone saw us?”

Zuko leaned up onto his arms and pushed himself into a standing position before glaring right back at her. “Don’t call me stupid.”

“Yeah, well how else should I describe you then, because if you had stopped just for one moment to think, then none of this would’ve happened! You just had to be nosy instead of waiting for someone to tell us that it was all clear!”

“I knew that it was fine, that’s why I looked! I didn’t just do it randomly, I thought it through!”

“Sure, Zuko. That’s why you hit me, right? Was it all a part of your plan?” Y/n was absolutely fuming. Perhaps some of this anger was pent up, but Zuko’s brashness set her over the edge.

“Enough!” A loud voice boomed out.

It sent shivers up the werewolf’s spine. Fear spiked through her for half of a second before recognition soothed her. Iroh had made it out of his container and stood by the cart, looking like a strict parent about to punish his children. Y/n almost cowered, but stood her ground. That’s definitely the voice of a War General.

“Y/n, you can’t be mad at Zuko for letting his curiosity get the best of him.” Then, he looked at his nephew, “Zuko, you shouldn’t have hurt Y/n and should have waited until we were told to come out. Now, no more arguing.”

Zuko scoffed before turning to briefly talk to the man pulling their disguises, mentioning their Ostrich-Horses and backpacks. Y/n turned the opposite direction, looking at Iroh before picking up the fallen flowers that littered the floor. The uncle waited, seemingly waiting for one of the teens to spark up the argument again.

Spirits... how am I going to survive this?

___

Today was so stressful... did a bunch of school stuff and then had to take care of my dad. proud of myself for posting tho ((even tho its technically a friday))

Previous | Chapter 6 | Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @bucky-blogs @hopefuloperaangelnerd @simplyfandomish @oddlypointlessescapes @lozzybowe @woohoney @whalerus @cece-lives-here @bwndito

#atla #zuko #zuko x reader #avatar

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

Note

Yohoo~! Can i request a scenario where s/o is akaashi’s long time crush and v popular in their school, always smiling to people left and right but she’s suicidal and depressed when no one’s around and akaashi discover it one day? I hope you understand what im saying haha, thank you~!

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon! For anyone who feels this way, it’s always better to talk it out rather than bottle it in, I learned this the hard way :’) // I’ve made the reader female, if that’s alright with you!

P.S: next request is a sequel everyone’s been waiting for ;)) can you guess?

tacenda. | akāshi keiji

word count: 1804

warnings: depressive and suicidal themes!

(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence

16 years old and Akaashi had never seen you cry. Not even once.

He recalled it from the moment he’d known you. From the lengthy days in grade school up until the wee hours in high school. Not a single tear had left the premises of your face.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

When the both of you were in first grade, he had watched you stumble and roll onto the coarse surface of a gravel road. Your knee had gotten helplessly scratched, the injury pulsing with deep, crimson liquid. At the sight of the open wound, your friends had cried and cried, whining about how the indomitable L/N Y/N had been overpowered by a simple road.

Akaashi had watched you from afar that day, the cacophonous cries of your volatile friends pulling his attention away from the family of stag beetles nesting in a tree.

Girls will cry at just about everything, he had thought, the shrillness of your friends’ lament boring into his head. I think Y/N’s going to cry too. I should probably go look for Kaneko-sensei—

“Hey, hey. I’m fine, see? You guys are such crybabies, Rui, Akarin.”

Akaashi’s face had whitened like a blank sheet, unable to correctly register the tone of your voice. Even your friends had stopped crying at your lukewarm reaction.

Your knee had been oozing out blood like a spilled bottle of ketchup, yet there you were, completely impervious to the obvious pain that your wound displayed, laughing and smiling like you always did.

It was from that day that Akaashi realized you were much harder to crack than you seemed to be.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Ten years into the present, Akaashi Keiji still hasn’t had you solved.

Ten years into the present, you were still the well-liked, striking L/N Y/N he had known since he was six. In fact, you were even somewhat more dazzling each day. It didn’t dismiss the thought that you were an indomitable puzzle he was raring to decipher.

“If you ask me, L/N-senpai’s way cooler than any of the boys. Yesterday, she saved me from a speeding car on the way to school!”

“That’s so lucky, Mayumi-chan! Oh man, I would do anything to trade places with you.”

“When she spoke to me, I felt my insides tingle and everything… is that what it’s like to be in the presence of a deity?”

Lunch time was the only tolerating hour for Akaashi to eavesdrop on any of the school’s ongoing sensations without having to be called out for it. Like any other day, one of today’s hot topics was you.

Ears growing bigger by the second, he caught bits and pieces of the astonished first-year girls’ conversation. As they walked off into a corner, he managed to hear something along the lines of ‘beautiful’, ‘goddess’ and ‘confess’—but even that wasn’t new to his ears.

Yes, you were charming, kind-hearted and an absolute delight to be around but that didn’t even bring him closer to the truth behind your impossible perfection. His acquaintance with you from childhood didn’t do him any favors either, which was a downright pain-in-the-ass.

After all, Akaashi figured, if he was finally going to officially proclaim his feelings to you, he’d have to have at least a tiny grain of yours.

“Hey, Akaashi. You’re awfully quiet today. You good, man?” the captain of the volleyball club poked at him, stuffing his face with his second loaf of yakisoba-pan.

Sighing, Akaashi recollected his composure. “I’m alright, Bokuto-san… and please don’t eat while talking, you’ll choke yourself if you do.”

Bokuto said something, mouth full of yakisoba, bread and variants of sauce, but it all fell deaf on Akaashi’s ears because he had already picked up another conversation about you…

“Man, L/N’s trying out for a student council position again this year, right? That girl’s got a mad stamina when it comes to volunteer work.”

“Yeah…”

The conversation seemed to stray into the usual topics, but there was a malicious undertone that kept Akaashi’s ears on guard.

“…But don’t you think she’s just a desperate try-hard? Sometimes, she seems kind of shallow to me…”

‘Shallow’. That was definitely new. It was new, but it was irrefutably wrong.

Akaashi felt acid rising to his head. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, hard enough to possibly draw blood. He wanted to get up. He wanted to get up and beat the crap out of that guy.

But sitting in the spectator’s seat like always, Akaashi could only frown and watch. You were the star of the show and he was your closet fanatic—his abilities limited to throwing you congratulatory roses at every occasion. He would kill to share that spotlight with you.

The cafeteria began to clear up and Akaashi recollected his thoughts before returning to class. Class 2-6 had Modern Literature for last period—Akaashi wondered if his day could get any worse.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Practice ran late again with Bokuto’s persistent pleas for him to set for his ‘new’ variant of a cross spike.

Bokuto-san just wanted to do a cross spike while shouting ‘Hadouken’. Akaashi thought. What’s the difference from his usual spikes? I don’t get it…

Akaashi felt a wrinkle settling on his forehead as he double locked the clubroom for good measure. The captain’s insistence had prevented him from submitting the form for a school bus reservation—in fact, it had been Bokuto’s job in the first place. Akaashi couldn’t blame him though; Bokuto’s image didn’t exactly line up very well with paperwork and the Student Council (unless, of course, if it involved trumpeting about himself in front of its female members).

To his relief, the Student Council office was always open until 8:30 pm. It was now 8:15 pm. It would take him only a couple of minutes to drop off their form in the inbox bin. Then, Akaashi could finally sink himself in the warm clutches of his bathtub, surrounded by steam and the maybe that aromatic bath oil his aunt gifted him from Okinawa…

However, upon noticing the light streaming out of the rectangular, translucent window of the office accompanied with a faint sniffle from within, Akaashi felt his blood run cold.

It’s only 8 pm. It’s impossible. Ghosts don’t roam around student council offices, right…? I hardly think they’d come to this high school either… Oh no. How did that prayer Grandmother taught me go again?

Swallowing sharply, Akaashi’s fingers took the shape of the door handle and he pushed, eye screwed tight against whatever was going to greet him. “S-sorry for the i-intrusion.”

“Akaashi-kun?”

Akaashi let out a guttural noise inside his throat, teeth pinned to a grimace. Pupils adjusting to your slouched figure, he sighed, relieved that you weren’t any form of a Yuki Onna. However, your eyes were bloodshot, hair sticking up in various places. Any traces of your “perfect” appearance had been washed away with the tears that scarred your cheeks.

Looking at you in this state shattered Akaashi.

“I’m sorry.”

Meeting your darkened gaze, Akaashi murmured, “What?”

“I’m a selfish person for saying this, but I don’t want any of it anymore.”

Akaashi didn’t know how he didn’t notice the glint of a silver blade encircled by your fist until you pointed its tip at the upside of your wrist. He didn’t even think by then. He didn’t even think about the reservation form he dropped on the floor. He didn’t even count the steps he took to bound over the meeting table. He didn’t even think about how roughly he yanked your wrist away, knocking the cutter into a dark corner of the room.

He didn’t even think when he shouted, “Don’t!”

You furrowed your brows, palms clenching in resistance to his iron grip. “Are you stupid?!”

Akaashi’s hold on your arms slackened at your words, but he knew better than to let you go.

“I can’t take it anymore. It’s all too much!” more tears clump at your eyes, threatening to spill on Akaashi’s uniform slacks. “I tried! I tried to make everyone happy, but all they did was hurt me. It’s all my fault I’m like this. Please let me go, Akaashi-san…”

Your voice grew soft as your cries receded into gentle hiccups swaying in the windless room.

“Please let me end this…”

Akaashi felt the same acid from this afternoon bubble in his throat again, but this time he made sure it spewed. “Are you stupid, L/N-san? You can’t make others’ happy unless you’re happy yourself. Everyone knows that, you idiot!”

Akaashi felt his insides crumble as soon as his head registered the fact that he had called you, the most popular second-year at Fukuroudani, an idiot. But at least his words had stunned you so deeply you fell silent.

“Do things that make you happy, L/N-san,” he spilled, filter for words dissolved into nothingness. “It’s okay to take breaks and say no. Talk it out with someone you’re comfortable with. I’m even more positive that your friends will be happier if you were honest with them about your feelings. But doing things like…”

Akaashi’s attention caught the teasing shine of the cutter next to a potted plant.

“…this, would just make them miserable, won’t it? You may not see it, but everyone admires you. I admire you too. I would give anything to be like you. Kind, patient and all the more charming… You may not see it, but a lot of people are already happy just with your existence. That was you, L/N-san. You made them happy.”

Your gaze turned to that of a defeated puppy. A stray tear rolling down your cheek, you slid your arms down to take Akaashi’s hands in yours. In the midst of all the tension, his hands really felt like a warm bowl of miso soup. You really wanted to drink it all up to a finish.

“I’m really sorry for all the trouble I caused you, Akaashi-san.”

“It’s alright. Sorry for calling you an ‘idiot’,” saying more things than necessary really tired him out, but his energy really knew no bounds when it came to you.

“I-I’m really sorry, ‘Kaashi-san…’M really s-sorry…”

The hiccups returned and the dam to the waterworks burst at the linger of your voice. Despite all your trembling, Akaashi made it a point to hold you like he was never going to let go. If he had known from long ago, he’d tell you every day that he loved you, regardless if the feeling was mutual or not.

But he didn’t say a word for the length of the evening that he held you. His embrace seemed loud as it already was.

Akaashi Keji was 16 years old when he first saw you cry. And he was only 16 years old when he promised he was never going to let you feel that way ever again.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji imagine #akaashi keiji scenario #sfw #fukurodani x reader #bruh haikyuu writing #akaashi x rader #keiji x reader

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if-the-crown-fits-translate-it · 3 years

Text

Discord pt 98

[Date: 19/03, 06:01 AM GMT - 19/03, 06:50 AM GMT]

[CW for unethical floral experimentation, injury mention]

kateza affectionate: “mona, don't be so hard on yourself, ok?”

Maxwell: “....i....think we should tell her about the other stuff

mona”

Little-K1ng: “............theres more????”

Marcus: “.........heh”

Little-K1ng: “uh. heh?”

Maxwell: “I saw syds observation post from yesterday...it had a scrrenshot of something I said, and jack and them told me thats what you didnt want me seeing yesterday....”

Marcus: “Oh that

....yeah”

Little-K1ng: “O_O

uh..........................................................”

Marcus: “...that’s kind of what the argument was about”

Little-K1ng: “,,,,,,,,,,,,um

oh fuck. i

max...”

Maxwell: “im not upset”

Little-K1ng: “i just...”

Maxwell: “i took some time”

Little-K1ng: “you're... not?”

Maxwell: “and i get why you did it

yeah

but”

kateza affectionate: “you're in an unprecedented situation. a situation that keeps getting worse and worse with seemingly no reprieve. I don't blame you for slipping up here and there- there's so much stress involved that it's almost expected for you to be upset. i don't think anyone blames you for doing these things. that's all i wanted to say.”

Maxwell: “its gotten worse

baroness has images of more times where i've slipped up

at least twice during my argument with her”

Little-K1ng: “oh christ”

Maxwell: “and then I switched back to ender for certain words....”

Little-K1ng: “i.....”

Maxwell: “and....i sent prince an ask on faer blog....”

Little-K1ng: “you... did?”

Maxwell: “saying i was sorry for upsetting faem and i hoped i could see faem again soon”

Little-K1ng: “oh no oh no

oh max....”

Maxwell: “fae said "see you soon, page"”

Marcus: “...max signed the ask as page as well”

Maxwell: “no no

the was the second one”

Marcus: “..there was one before??”

Maxwell: “after he answered the first one i closed my eyes to breath”

Little-K1ng: “how can i be getting worse so much faster....”

Marcus: “.....I don’t...remember”

Little-K1ng: “unless...”

Marcus: “...huh”

Little-K1ng: “oh fucking christ no non on ono nonon ono nonono.....”

Maxwell: “and when I opened them like three minutes had passed and I had sent an ask as page apparently”

Little-K1ng: “did..... did crown do something? did he get in? did he get in when i left the door open??? and make it worse???????”

Marcus: “...I don’t

...max i don’t remember you sending an ask

Only page”

Little-K1ng: “is it my fault? did... did i do that? did i really.... i..... left you vulnerable....... i....”

Maxwell: “no it isnt your fault”

Little-K1ng: “i just....... this doesnt.... this doesnt hurt me nearly as much as it should.... im not... im still not upset..?”

Marcus: “Mona, Crown didn’t come in...I would’ve seen him. It’s not your fault”

kateza affectionate: “this isn't your fault mona

you're probably emotionally tired”

Little-K1ng: “but i just... i still just feel empty about it. i feel fully justified about this and i know i fucked up but im not hurt”

Raeva: “oh...”

Maxwell: “uh....I have marigold tea if you want some”

Little-K1ng: “i cant even fucking apologize right”

Marcus: “You didn’t mess up

...max what”

kateza affectionate: “you're emotionally burnt out, Mona. This is a bad situation”

Little-K1ng: “wh. where did you get marigolds?”

Maxwell: “oH

uH”

Marcus: “max”

Little-K1ng: “....;max????”

Maxwell: “hm.....well....

Little-K1ng: “max i dont have any tea except dandelion root

you're 16 you dont have money or a car

where the fuck,????”

Maxwell: “fetch was hurt....and i wanted to make sure I could help him tomorrow if he came back home tomorrow”

Marcus: “.....arent the flowers on your laurel...”

Maxwell: “.....”

Marcus: “max you didnt”

Little-K1ng: “mAaAaAaX??!!!!

what the HELL”

Marcus: “Don’t yell at him!”

Little-K1ng: “ahhhhh??????????????

im ??? not yelling on purpose im just????????

what the hell ??????”

Maxwell: “i wanted to help and it works?!”

Marcus: “you tested it???”

Maxwell: “yes”

Little-K1ng: “thats such a silly idea max of course it worked??? magic is like that sometimes??? but why would you have even thought about it ?????????”

Marcus: “max”

Maxwell: “i...”

Little-K1ng: “thats so silly how did it taste wh”

Maxwell: “i knew marigolds have the ability to help heal wounds...they can help speed up the process sometimes by a couple of days”

Marcus: “Are you okay??”

Maxwell: “they can help with blood flow”

Marcus: “Which ones did you cut off? Did you only cut one?”

Little-K1ng: “are you???? ok max first of all. heavy metal poisoning speedrunning. nice one. but also. dude cmon they double when you do that”

Maxwell: “and can sometimes even be used to treat infections...

i only cut one but it workss”

Little-K1ng: “one flower for how much ??”

Marcus: “...”

Little-K1ng: “like. did the water change color? bubble strangely? make fucked up ender noises at you??”

Maxwell: “i got a scrape on my arm when I was pacing outside waiting for fetch and I dipped a paper towel in it and put it on the wound”

Little-K1ng: “god maybe i am emotionally exhausted”

Maxwell: “it almost fully closed instantly”

Marcus: “...I kinda hope it made ender noises that would be funny”

[Maxwell: “it almost fully closed instantly”]

Little-K1ng: “hUH”

Maxwell: “it healed the wound faster than normal

not completely but enough”

Little-K1ng: “oh you better hope you dont do that too much and find out once your laurel wilts the wounds just open wtf”

Marcus: “I don’t think normal marigolds do that”

Little-K1ng: “thats like. supremely fucked dude??? thats weird.”

Maxwell: “.....”

Marcus: “...interesting”

Little-K1ng: “if you only used one did you??? just use the one i cut?”

Maxwell: “i wanted to help fetch

no the...one you cut was a bud

i needed one with petals that was bloomed...”

Marcus: “Y’know Max, I don’t think anyone else would’ve tried that”

Maxwell: “also the bud hasnt wilted despite being cut off a day ago...

but yeah i needed petals”

Marcus: “....”

Maxwell: “i tried to take em off when it was on my head but it felt like I was pulling out my hair so i stopped and just....”

Little-K1ng: “no, i understand the need. i get it. i want to help fetch too and honestly? i would have done the same”

Maxwell: “took a whole one”

Marcus: “...are you okay?

How did that not wake me up”

Little-K1ng: “im. i just. i feel so screwed up about this whole thing.”

Maxwell: “i didnt yell”

Marcus: “...”

Maxwell: “i numbed it with ice and grabbed the scissors

fetch wasnt happy when i told him”

Little-K1ng: “well of course not”

Maxwell: “jack saw it as an experiment”

Marcus: “...you talked to fetch?

Like directly?”

Little-K1ng: “you told him???”

Maxwell: “no he was messaging her”

Little-K1ng: “i dont even tell him when i hide a pill in some cheese for him

wait dont tell him that i said that”

Marcus: “I thought he just gave an update and that’s how you knew about stuff”

Maxwell: “to let us know he wouldnt be home tonight

yeah and i said i knew a way to help heal him”

Marcus: “...”

Maxwell: “he...knew i was gonna do something I shouldnt have

theres still quite a bit left”

Marcus: “....i can see why he would think that”

Maxwell: “it's in a bowl....

....you can use some if you need it”

Little-K1ng: “...........ok. would it be weird. if i drank it

like a little bit

maybe itll?? pick up my mood or something”

Marcus: “What if it cures your migraines”

Maxwell: “i dont know if it works for moods”

Little-K1ng: “god i WISH”

Maxwell: “uh give me a sec”

[Marcus: “What if it cures your migraines”]

Little-K1ng: “MARCUS IF IT DOES THAT IM GIVING YOU TWO THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE”

Maxwell: “you could try but as far as i remember it wont work

it works for wounds and inflammatory stuff”

Little-K1ng: “damn”

Marcus: “Why would you give it to me-”

Little-K1ng: “yeah ill be honest i maybe do not want the weird rat juice . at least not right now”

Maxwell: “its...flower

i put the petals in a pot and boiled em”

Little-K1ng: “Brain Flower of the Rat is not exactly the most appealing tea flavor, max. with all due respect”

Maxwell: “then i strained them”

Marcus: “Juice of Brain Flower of the Rat then”

Maxwell: “actually tastes slightly like normal water...

if anything slightly sweet

jack said it might taste like rose water”

[Marcus: “Juice of Brain Flower of the Rat then”]

Little-K1ng: “sick new lacroix flavor”

[Maxwell: “jack said it might taste like rose water”]

Little-K1ng: “.....rose water?”

Maxwell: “yeah you boil the roses then strain em into a bowl

like i did with the marigolds”

Little-K1ng: “i like rose water... :/ guess maybe i do want the fucked up rat brain plant water”

Maxwell: “you could try some its not like I cant make more”

Little-K1ng: “....hm !!! dont like that

do not make more rat water”

Maxwell: “....”

Little-K1ng: “i will try some but do not make more”

Marcus: “...please stop calling it rat water?”

Little-K1ng: “marcus?? do you want to try some (Patent Pending) Maxwell Ratatouille's Funky Fresh Brain Tea™️?”

Maxwell: “....

im too tired for this shit”

Little-K1ng: “im coping max.”

Marcus: “....”

Maxwell: “ fair”

Marcus: “I don’t have any injuries?”

Maxwell: “im.....i might go to sleep soon....

who?”

Marcus: “Who?”

Little-K1ng: “we dont have injuries

basically

okay so uh?? bottoms up i guess”

sip sip

sip

Marcus: “..oh wait

My elbow?

Does it work on old injuries?”

Little-K1ng: “uh. hm

it tastes good?”

Maxwell: “oh yeah its burned! it wont get rid of the injury but it might help with any lingering pain?”

Little-K1ng: “it tastes nice actually, the rose water thing was actually accurate

........................................huh

wtf”

kateza affectionate: “I’m gonna head to bed. Stay safe y’all. Much love /p”

Little-K1ng: “gn Kate !

hm. okay”

Maxwell: “hm?”

Marcus: “What Mona?”

Little-K1ng: “so. i may have forgotten to mention out loud to yall but i have some pretty bad joint pain

like, typically, its a mid level pain all the time

and its jsut? less

less pain

thats nice”

Maxwell: “told ya it works!”

Little-K1ng: “it.... does !

dont make more though

ill enjoy this for as long as it lasts but for gods sake max dont pick the laurel for tea”

Marcus: “Please don’t make more rat juice max”

Little-K1ng: “gonna do a rat juice high five marcus

try it??”

Marcus: “I’ll..try just applying it to my elbow”

Little-K1ng: “something something dab joke”

Marcus: “Man you really are tired huh?

Little-K1ng: “i am so tired

work was hard

and i came home, expecting like, the remnants of a fight”

Marcus: “Okay- oh”

Little-K1ng: “only to realize that like, just about every problem for the last 2 days are probably entirely my fault”

Marcus: “Mona”

Little-K1ng: “and i dont actually have it in me to think i actually did anything wrong and i keep getting angry and snapping at people who dont deserve it”

Marcus: “Mona it’s fine

I promise”

Little-K1ng: “<:(”

Maxwell: “you okay marcus”

Little-K1ng: “^this is an incredibly forced frown. again, i dont feel bad”

Maxwell: “the water didnt hurt you right?”

Marcus: “Huh?

No it’s quite soothing actually”

Little-K1ng: “yeah weird right ??”

Marcus: “A bit”

Little-K1ng: “i WILL physically fight you max if you try to make more though

i will get mad. dont”

Maxwell: “....sorry”

Little-K1ng: “i mean dont be sorry for trying it, that was a good idea

but you've done it once, thats enough”

Marcus: “Please don’t make more max”

Little-K1ng: “for safety reasons”

Marcus: “Yeah”

Little-K1ng: “i dont know how easily those stems get infected

and with how deep they run i really dont want you to find out

i already endangered you all this far, please dont help me do that

guys... you both look so tired”

Maxwell: “you wont endagenr us its fein”

Little-K1ng: “maybe you should go to bed”

Maxwell: “im fien”

Little-K1ng: “sounds like it ,':)

head to the tulips, dormouse :)!”

Maxwell: “fuckign what”

Maxwell: “awwwww i love emas”

Little-K1ng: “do you guys want to sleep in the living room? my bed is pretty huge”

Maxwell: “oh iv emafe a neast on the fllor”

Little-K1ng: “oh perfect, and it looks like marcus is already asleep :) thats okay!! goodnight you guys”

Maxwell: “nihgtn”

#on:discord #by:maxwell #by:marcus #if the crown fits

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awful-roffle-archive · 3 years

Text

Meteors dot txt

A/N: this definitely got to a point i just took the characters and setting and did my own story with it but uh. its fine. no idea if i’ll ever come back to this but?? im running out of writing spoons rn so! you get this as is with its really choppy ending :^) nothing’s been proof read by someone else but i tried my best so uh. enjoy lmao

word count: 3,420

"Today's broadcast reports there will be a meteor shower raining over Pelican Town this evening! Make sure to take an umbrella with you! Hehe." The meteorologist quips before the broadcast goes back to the news about the latest about the Gotoro Empire. Rayzan sighs and shuts the TV off, sipping at his coffee.

"What's so important about some damn meteor shower? It's... what, space rocks? Big whoop." He mutters to himself, shoving a rather... strange (to put it lightly) tasting cheese cauliflower into his mouth. It's what he gets from buying food from Joja - hopefully he wouldn't start glowing or something as a side effect. With a grunt he pushes himself off of the floor, throwing the plastic container to the side. He'd clean it up later. Probably.

He jumps as there's a rapping on the janky screen door, and he instinctively grabs his gun from behind a potted plant. Pulling the door open, he aims it directly between the other's eyes.

"What the fuck do you want." His tone is harsh and cold, and he never breaks eye contact with her.

"Oh!" Maru stumbles backwards on the porch, holding her hands up. "I'm sorry! I just- uh-" She falters over her words, clearly taken aback.

"Spit it out."

"Can you put down the gun? Please?" Maru chooses her words carefully, keeping her hands in the air.

"I thought I made it perfectly fucking clear I didn't want anyone bothering me." He moves the gun downward, but his gaze still seems to burn through her.

"Well, yes, but..."

"But you wanted to anyways, right? You decided your high-fucking-horse is more important than my privacy."

There's a long pause before Maru says anything. She just stands there, gawking at him. "I just wanted to tell you about the meteor shower tonight. Everyone's going to be gathered at the beach, if you wanted to come." She speaks simply before turning around and stepping off the porch. "Yeah. I'm aware." He slams the door, the screens rattling as he locks it. "Yoba damn everyone in this fucking town." He grumbles and hides the gun once more.

Grabbing whatever clothes he could find from his dresser, he stares at himself in the mirror. So much for keeping up appearances, huh? He takes a deep breath and runs some hair gel through his hair, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He gags and spits into a bucket of lake water. His plumbing hadn't worked for, well, what felt like months now and he wasn't about to go ask Mrs. 'Oh how are you? Where are you from? How is the farm? Do you have any family?' Robin for help any time soon.

Pulling a shirt over his head he makes his way outside, staring at his rather sad attempt at a garden. He was supposed to be a farmer and he couldn't even keep a few peppers alive, let alone an entire farm's worth. Deciding to water the crops, despite them being... well, very dead, he tosses his farming tools aside and heads into town.

---

The walk always felt long and tedious. He had looked into getting a car before, but the walk to even GET to a dealership was way out of the question, and with the only bus in town out of commission, he was pretty much stuck in town and on foot. The sun beat down on him endlessly, almost taunting him for daring to move during the summer.

As soon as he reaches town he instantly heads for Joja. The saloon wouldn't be open for another few hours, and he sure as hell wasn't going to sit in Pierre's and listen to his badgering about how the farm was doing. Instantly being hit with the a/c of Jojamart he takes a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Quite the walk, isn't it? You should take a sip of the latest JojaCola flavor! NuBerry - a delicious combination of raspberry and cranberry thrown together by our team of talented scientists! Joja is not liable for any injuries or side effects that may occur while drinking NuBerry. NuBerry - Fresh and full of smiles!" Morris spews off like a recorded advertisement, making Rayzan roll his eyes. He instead heads back towards the freezers, holding it open and just soaking in the cold as he sinks to the floor.

“Probably shouldn't stand there with it open like that.” A voice comes up from behind him, leaning over his shoulder.

“You and I both know you don't care about their electric bills.” Rayzan smirks as he looks up to see Shane leaning over him. “Unless you've suddenly had a change of heart?” He puts a hand to his heart, leaning back.

“Nah. Last I heard there was some freezer monster back there. Snatches up kids that don't know better.” Shane quips and stands up straighter. “Besides, I gotta put these in there.” He motions to a palette of frozen pizza boxes.

“Mind if I nab one of those to go?”

“Hey, if you can get it past Morris be my guest.” Shane pauses, “But if you get caught I didn't see shit.” He grins before going back to restocking the freezer.

“You underestimate me greatly.” Rayzan snatches a box off of the pile, waiting until Morris was busy doing who-knows-what until stealthily stepping out the door with it.

“Oi, watch it kid.” Pam exclaims as Rayzan runs directly into her, almost dropping his box.

“Whatever.” Rayzan grumbles and rushes past her, wondering where the hell he could keep this for the time being. There was no way he was walking all the way back home for just this. Looking around he exhales before checking his watch. 10:04 am. Fuck. What was he supposed to do for at least another two hours before the saloon opened?

He could go to the mines... but that didn't solve his pizza dilemma. He groans before staring down at the river. Maybe... No, that would make it soggy. Shit. He settles on hiding it behind a rock in the shade – at least it would stay cool there. Wiping his hands off he heads past Pierre's, only to get stopped on his way.

“Hey, Rayzan! How is the farm coming along? You know, if you need anything we-”

“Yeah, yeah. You sell seeds and shit. I'm thoroughly aware. It's the only fucking shit you sell.” Rayzan interrupts her, turning back around with his arms crossed.

“Well... Pierre and I have discussed expanding our stock recently. If you have anything you'd like to see feel free to let us know!” Caroline smiles, holding up a small basket of tomatoes. “These are freshly grown from our garden, they're rather fresh, too. We were thinking about selling these, would you like to try one?”

“...I'll pass.” Rayzan rolls his eyes, continuing up the path.

“Oh, well, I'll see you later at the meteor shower then!”

“Doubt it.” He picks up his pace, running up towards the mountains. The air always feels crisper up here, fresher. He takes a moment to breathe as he reaches Robin's house, then immediately ducks by it. There was no way he was sticking around for more pleasant conversations with the townsfolk. ESPECIALLY Robin.

---

As he ducks into the mine, Marlon looks over at him and just laughs. “What, are you planning on starting an earth quake and almost killing yourself again? Didn't have enough last time?”

“Shut up. I didn't even bring my gun this time.”

“You didn't bring your sword, either. Or a pickaxe... What exactly are you planning on doing down there?” Marlon points out, nodding towards him. “May be half-blind but even I can see that's not a good idea.”

Rayzan takes a moment to look over himself, realizing he didn't actually bring any tools. “...Fuck.” He sighs in exasperation as Marlon laughs at him.

“Get out of here kid. I'm not in the mood to rescue you again.”

“Shut up.” Rayzan repeats himself, leaving the cave with a roll of his eyes. He heads past Linus' tent with a nod of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets before heading up towards the train station. Oh how he wished he could hop on the train and get the hell out of here. Instead he pushes the door open to the spa, heading for the locker room. With any luck no one else would be there.

Unfortunately, this wasn't his lucky day. Alex sits up from the weight bench as he waves at him.

“Hey man, didn't think I'd see you up here again.” Alex grins. “That offer to spot you is still open. You know, so you don't drop your weight on your foot again. How's that doing, by the way?”

“It's fine.” Rayzan says simply, yanking at his locker door.

“You gotta pull it up first.” Alex speaks up after a few moments of Rayzan fighting with the locker.

“...I knew that.” Rayzan responds, moving the handle up before pulling it open properly.

“Oh! Uh, are you going to that... that shower tonight? Haley's dragging me along. Don't know, might be pretty cool.”

“Wasn't really planning on it. Everyone keeps asking me about it.” He grumbles and grabs a towel, heading for the showers.

“Well, it's just, basically everyone in town goes to these things. It's kind of a big deal, these festivals and all.”

“Yeah, I got that. Now, do you mind? I'm sweaty and I'm not going to wash myself off at home with lake water.”

“You don't have a shower?”

“No.”

“Why don't you-”

“I'm not asking anyone to fix my shit.” With that, Rayzan pulls the curtain to the shower shut and tosses his things down. What's with everyone in this town being so damn talkative?

---

He spends the next several hours in the pool, ignoring Penny and Alex talking about who knows what. His day is rather quiet after that, deciding to head to his usual place in the saloon – where, yes, he does get Gus to put his pizza in the freezer for him for the time being. He ends up falling asleep in one of the booths, nursing his glass of beer. He's only awaken by Shane poking him in the side.

“Wha-? Ah... Mm..” Rayzan murmurs, stretching his arms out. “Thought you'd have more courtesy than to wake a sleeping man.” He grumbles drowsily.

“Didn't want to, but otherwise it'd be Gus and I figured you didn't want that. He's locking up here to go see the meteor shower thing. Jas wanted me to go with her.” He doesn't sound very enthused about it either. “Want to go keep me company?”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah. I know.” He frowns, but steps aside as Rayzan gets up.

“Guess so.” He sighs, then looks over at Gus by the door. “Can I get my pizza after? So I'm not holding it the whole time?”

“Of course! I'll leave the door unlocked for ya.” Gus beams before heading outside, Shane and Rayzan soon following after.

“So did Morris say anything about the missing stock?” Rayzan glances over, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Hah, no not really. Don't think he even noticed you leaving. Lillian didn't either, or at least she didn't mention it.” Shane ponders as they walk the rest of the way in silence.

---

They pick a spot that's far enough away from everyone else to not be bothered, but close enough that Jas wouldn't complain to Marnie that Shane didn't show up.

“You ever seen one of these things?” Rayzan speaks up after awhile, looking up at Shane.

“Nah, I'm not really... into space stuff. There's enough to worry about on this planet, you know? Never mind worrying about whatever the hell aliens out there are getting up to.”

“Agreed.” Rayzan nods, pushing his hair up out of his face before staring up at the sky as the meteors begin raining by. Everyone is quiet other than the “oohs” and “ahhs” and other noises spoken in awe of the event. As Rayzan looks around he sees people making various wishes, Robin and Demetrius kissing, and Vincent and Jas playing astronauts off to the side. A faint smile grows on his face as he leans back, letting the sand seep between his fingers. This was nice, despite his many protests against it.

Eventually, the shower ended and the crowd started dying down as everyone went home. Shane said his goodbyes as he carried a very sleepy Jas off, and Rayzan was left alone. Rayzan sat there for a few more minutes listening to the ocean. Everything was peaceful, until a loud crash roars through the beach. The sound shakes through the town, and Rayzan jumps from his spot.

“The f-?” He suddenly wishes he had literally any weapon on him. He hesitantly makes his way over to the right hand side of the beach, staring at the smoldering pit among what used to be small tide pools. “Uh.” He mutters to himself, looking back towards Elliott's hut. No reaction. Was he already asleep? How did he NOT hear that? He shakes his head and grabs a stray stick from by the trees, poking at the object in the middle of the pit with it.

“Uh...” Rayzan repeats to himself, looking down at his hands. If he did end up burning himself Harvey wasn't asleep just yet, right? He'd probably be fine. He cautiously picks up the object, finding it to be - surprisingly - not as hot as he thought. It was fairly large, having to be held with two hands, and seemed to be glowing a soft blue aura. It's exterior was rather dark, with dull white spikes protruding out the sides. Although he tried to pull it apart it was no use – whatever it was, it was rather sturdy.

“Damn you're heavy.” Rayzan mutters as he stares at the egg-shaped object in his hands. He looks up, pondering to himself about what to do with this thing. He begins heading back up towards town, only to be interrupted by Maru.

“Oh my yoba – I could hear that crash from across TOWN! To think something actually hit the ground! And you're holding it!” Maru begins rambling off, clapping her hands together. “Can I see it? That doesn't look like any meteor I've ever heard of, but of course space is really vast and there could be plenty of different-”

“Whoa, whoa. Listen, if you want this thing take it. I don't know what to do with it.” Rayzan begins trying to hand it off, only for it to stab him in the arm. “What the fuck?”

“Oh- Oh dear, are you okay?” Maru widens her eyes, frantically trying to grab it again – only for the object to protest yet again. Rayzan grunts in pain, nodding.

“Maybe we should... not. Do that.” He hisses as he carefully sets it down – thankfully it lets him do that – before rubbing at his wrists. “Fuck, what is that thing?”

“Well, I'm not entirely sure... It seems at least somewhat sentient though, don't you think? Exciting!” Maru grins before turning her attention back to him. “...Right, we should get you to the clinic.” She reaches down to pick it up off the floor, only for it to spray some form of mist into the air. “AH!” She exclaims as she stumbles back, holding a hand over her face. “Okay! You pick it up!”

“I'm not touching that thing again!”

“We have to at least move it somewhere no one else can get hurt.” Maru insists, rubbing at her eyes. Rayzan grunts and picks up the foreign object, carrying it in his arms as he follows her to the clinic.

Harvey looks up from his paperwork as the door opens, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I locked... Oh, Maru, hello- Are you okay? What is- Rayzan are you bleeding?” He gets up frantically, moving around the counter.

“I'm fine, he might need stitches. Don't... touch that thing.” Maru aggressively points to the object. “I need to go wash out my eyes.” She motions vaguely in the air before walking off. Harvey blinks a few times before looking back towards Rayzan as he sets the object in a waiting room chair.

“Alright... well, let's get you sorted. I'll... call Gunther and let him know about this also.” Harvey furrows his brow, walking Rayzan back towards the examination room. “What happened, exactly?”

“I don't know. That thing fucking... Grabbed me when I tried to give it to Maru.” Rayzan hisses in pain as Harvey looks over his wounds.

“These look pretty deep – did it get you anywhere else?”

“Not that I can tell.” He shakes his head as Harvey frowns. “I feel kind of... sick, though.”

“Hopefully that's just from blood loss and it didn't inject you with anything.” Harvey notes before gathering everything necessary.

---

Rayzan wakes up in one of the hospital beds in the morning and groans as he sits up. “...So that wasn't a dream. Fuck.” He looks down at his bandaged arms with a frown. Harvey comes in with a smile, holding a clipboard close to his chest.

“Well, good news, you aren't going to die.” Harvey smiles before continuing, “You ended up passing out last night so I set you up here. As far as I could tell, there's nothing lethal in your blood stream either. Maru and Gunther are in the waiting room discussing the...” Harvey trails off for a moment, “Well, if you'd like to talk to them, you're free to. Be sure to keep those bandaged though, alright? And I wouldn't advise any excessive movement... If you need any pain killers, let me know.”

Rayzan nods, pushing himself out of the bed. “Yeah, thanks doc.” He mutters and heads into the waiting room.

“Oh! Mr. Rayzan, it's always a pleasure to see you. This is certainly an interesting specimen you've found here!” Gunther smiles as he stands up straighter.

“Yeah, and it tried to fucking kill me. Can't you take the yoba damn thing to the museum or something where I don't have to look at it?” He glares at it, crossing his arms over his chest before wincing and simply putting them down by his sides.

“Ah... I was looking into that, actually. It seems it's imprinted on you somehow and is rather territorial about it.”

“It's done what? I'm not a damn mother duck or something! If that shit turns out to be an alien I'm not taking care of it.” Rayzan protests angrily, leaning against the counter.

“If it would let me I'd take it off your hands after it hatches or... whatever it's going to do, but until then no one can touch it.” Maru frowns as she looks over at him. “I guess you could just drop it off somewhere, but there's no guarantee it still won't try to find you once it hatches...” There's a pause. “Though I'm absolutely open for helping you out with it as much as I can! Maybe we can be co-parents of it!” She laughs, though it doesn't last long as she sees Rayzan's expression. She clears her throat as she looks away. “Up to you, of course.”

“I'm probably just gonna drop the thing in the river or something. Maybe it'll float off to wherever. Or better yet, drown.”

“Mr. Rayzan, sir, if I may interrupt, I don't think that's such a good idea.” Gunther speaks up. “We don't know anything about this creature – it could be invasive to the local environment. It's better to keep it close so we can learn more about it.”

“Then you take it!” Rayzan picks up a wooden crate, then sets the object inside of it. “There. Yours now. Have fun with your murder egg.” He shoves the box into Gunther's arms and storms towards the door.

“Rayzan!” Maru shouts, but frowns as she turns back towards Gunther. “I think we're on our own here.”

Gunther nods, “It seems so...” He looks down at the object, then nods towards her. “I'll take this over to the museum for now and try to figure out what it likes... Perhaps find a sun lamp.”

Rayzan rolls his eyes as he slams the door behind him. He heads towards the saloon, grabbing his frozen pizza out of the freezer before making the journey home. He'd be glad to sleep in his own bed again.

#my writing #my ocs #rayzan #stardew valley #sdv #dont @ me i based this off a dream i had last night that wouldnt get out of my brain <3

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