lol at ghoap breaking down your door because there are men with guns and no one in this building is safe, get what you can and hop out the back window i'll catch you but now you've been sitting in a "safe house" that seems a little too furnished. it's even got internet and cable. so when you ask how the situation back home is looking-
soaps just like ??? not sure what yer talkin bout, hen, but eat your breakfast it's gettin' cold.
asking ghost that what about the strange men? with the guns? did you find out who they were or who they worked for? and he's just, "what men? are you in danger? seen anyone suspicious? soap watch 'em," now he's grabbing a gun and heading out to check the perimeter
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I’m Here // Minors DNI
Summary: Chuuya doesn’t remember his dreams, but he feels it. [Based off the canon fact that Chuuya doesn’t dream/doesn’t remember his dreams.]
Tags: Nakahara Chuuya/ GN Reader (referred to as Doll once but gender isn’t specific), SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Not Much Warning, But Chuuya Cries, Also Mentions Chuuya’s Thoughts Of Not Feeling Human So Dehumanizing Feelings Of Oneself.
Nakahara Chuuya/Reader Drabble
Chuuya doesn’t dream, or at least he doesn’t remember them.
And yet there’s an overwhelming feeling of grief stirring inside of him when he awakes abruptly, a sheen of sweat drenching his face and around his neck. Soft pants fall from his lips as he sits upright, one of his calloused hands flying up to smooth over the left side of his chest where a dull ache throbs within. He doesn’t know why this happens, but it does. He knows that even if he doesn’t remember his dreams, he subconsciously knows what they’re about. Feels what they’re about. His past— the people he’s lost— the things he’s had to do to survive.
Chuuya doesn’t cry.
But he does tonight, melancholy overtaking everything else in him. His tears are silent and scarce, the feeling unusual and almost surreal to him. When did he become so weak?
“Chuuya?” Your voice is groggy and slurred from sleep as you shift beneath the covers to slowly move to sit up.
Chuuya’s breathing hitches, thankful that the room is pitch black. He can barely make out your figure next to him, but see that you’re moving to lean closer to him. Chuuya clears his throat and responds quietly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, Doll… Go back to sleep.”
Your hand moves to feel out next to you to find him until it lands splayed out on his back, “Why are you up? What’s wrong?” You ask, worry lacing your tone.
“Nothing, m’fine…” He sighs out, making a move to wipe his damp face with his hands. His hands stop though when he feels your warm hands cup his face and wipe away his tears with your thumbs.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” You murmur, shuffling to switch positions, though slightly difficult due to your limited vision. You face Chuuya now, hands moving from his face to smooth down his wild bed hair from tossing and turning. “Why are you upset?” You’re just the slightest bit confused having known about Chuuya’s inability to dream— or that he doesn’t remember them, so it couldn’t be that. Could it?
“I…” Chuuya sniffles, but it’s barely discernible. “I had a bad dream,” He pauses before letting out a shaky exhale, “I feel it.”
You almost frown, but it curls into a gentle smile, though you know Chuuya can’t see it in the dark. “You feel it?” It’s an innocent question, much like your touch as you tuck some of his damp bangs behind his ear. You feel him nod, leaning into your touch for comfort— seeking you out in a moment of vulnerability. You don’t elaborate on your thoughts about the three simple words he spoke— that you think he’s more human than any other being you’ve met— that you wish he’d look at himself through your eyes and see how living he was beneath his flesh and bones. But you push it to the back of your mind for a later conversation.
“It aches,” Chuuya’s voice strains, wishing the throbbing would disappear from his chest.
“I know,” You whisper. Your hands find themselves slipping around his waist to hold him from your position next to him, “But I’m here.” You reassure, head resting into the crook of his neck.
He turns his head to place a gentle kiss to your head, arm looping around your back to caress along your spine soothingly, “You are.”
Chuuya survived all his life, but with you, he felt like he was living.
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Cheng Xiaoshi, jokingly while filling legal papers: Maybe we should just get married. It would be easier.
Lu Guang, slamming a piece of paper on the table: Okay, sign here.
Cheng Xiaoshi, stunned: Lu Guang, is this a marriage certificate?
Lu Guang: Yes, you just have to sign it.
Cheng Xiaoshi: Where did you get it?
Lu Guang: It's easy to get one don't worry about it.
Cheng Xiaoshi: For how long did you have this?
Lu Guang: Does it matter?
Cheng Xiaoshi: Why is your name already signed?
Lu Guang: Do you want to get married or not?
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